Holocaust Memorial Day

Today marks the 72nd anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau by the Red Army.

In 2008, I had the privilege of shaking the hand of Walter Kammerling at a Holocaust talk.  Walter, an Austrian Jew, was 14 years old when Nazi Germany and Austria united in the Anschluss of 1938.  Walter witnessed the Kristallnacht, a name he believed was far too romantic for the horrors on the 9-10 November, when Synagogues, Jewish-owned shops, businesses and homes were attacked across the country, and hundreds were sent to Dachau concentration camp.  Kristallnacht translates as Crystal Night or Night of Broken Glass.

Walter Kammerling (source: Holocaust Educational Trust)

In a very loose sense, fifteen-year-old Walter was lucky - the war had not yet been declared, and Walter's parents were able to send him to Britain on the Kindertransport, a series of rescue efforts to bring refugee Jewish children to Britain from Nazi Germany.  On arrival, he was sent to a camp at Dovercourt, Essex, before being moved to Northern Ireland, where he worked on a farm for three years.  In 1942 he met his future wife, Herta, in London, marrying her in 1944, whilst on embarkation leave from the British Army, with whom he was serving in Belgium and the Netherlands.  Like Walter, Herta had been a child of the Kindertransport.  When the war was over, Walter and Herta returned to Austria, where they had two sons.  They moved back to Britain in 1957, the country they now called home.

Walter left behind a mother, father and sister, whose terrible fate he would discover at the end of the war.  He has since spent his life giving talks and educating people on the horrors of genocide, and the need to resist prejudice and discrimination in the modern world.  His story has been written up in the Bournemouth Daily Echo in 2015, and is well worth a read.

Walter's British registration certificate (source: Bournemouth Hebrew Congregation)

John Turner II, the railway platelayer

In the 1840s, London became gripped by a phenomenon known as Railway Mania, a speculative frenzy in which money was poured into new railway companies, creating routes the length and breadth of the country.  In West London, this saw several companies, such as the London and Southwestern Railway (LSWR,) London and Windsor Railway and Great Western Railway, build new lines west of the Thames, in an attempt to run ever-more trains in-and-out of the capital.  One destination that companies wanted to reach, for the very prestige of serving Queen Victoria, was Windsor.  A great period of embankment, bridge and station construction followed, with stations such as Twickenham and Hounslow & Whitton cropping up in the dozens.  Railway Mania collapsed in the late 1840s to early 1850s – partly because of cautious investors, and partly because most of the railway network had been achieved – but the frenzy had left behind a mature and sophisticated network, the backdrop against which John Turner - my great-great-great-grandfather - arrived in Isleworth, having left his home village of Buscot, Berkshire, in the 1850s.

Curiously, not long after his arrival in West London, John travelled to Beenham in Berkshire, where he married a domestic servant, Charlotte Anderson.  The couple returned to London together, to settle in at “Mr Lewis Cottages,” 4 Heath Lane, Isleworth, Brentford.  There can be little doubt that John’s arrival in London was fuelled by work, the city providing opportunities for labour and pay unparalleled in the sleepy Berkshire countryside.  On arrival, he quickly found employment as a carter – one who drove a two-wheeled horse-drawn cart for transporting goods.  Isleworth was a big market garden district in the 19th century, supplying many of the London markets, so it’s likely that John was involved in this trade.  At the time, many of the carters were also employed by the railway companies, to deliver and collect goods and parcels, and it appears that John was amongst these, beginning his lifelong association with the railways.

OS map showing Hounslow & Whitton Station in the 1870s.  Heath Lane lies two roads to the north

Given that the family’s home was a stone’s throw from Hounslow and Whitton Station, it is highly likely that John worked for the LSWR, and was soon put to work on the rails themselves, working as a railway platelayer.  The role of the platelayer was to inspect and maintain the permanent way of the railway, ensuring the track and its component parts (rails, sleepers, fishplates, bolts) were safe.  John’s duties would have included greasing points, watching for wear-and-tear, and working in teams to replace damaged sections of the track.  John would probably have been assigned a two-mile stretch of track to patrol from his platelayer's hut – a single-room shelter adjacent to the line, equipped with a table, chair, and simple heating stove.  Such shelters can still be seen along the lines of the British railways today.  The job of the platelayer could be dangerous, and John would have needed to keep his awareness at all times – there are numerous reports of platelayers being killed by passing trains.

For John, there was plentiful employment – even more so when the Thames Valley Line opened in 1864, ushering the Turner family’s move to Layton’s Lane in Sunbury-on-Thames, at this point still very much in the countryside.  The Thames Valley Railway, also operated by LSWR, connected the village of Shepperton with Twickenham and London Waterloo, and provided a brand new stretch of track for John to patrol, which he did for the rest of his working career.  

Sunbury clock tower in the 1890s

John Turner began the Turner family’s association with the railways, which would last for three generations.  He and Charlotte spent the rest of their lives living in Sunbury-on-Thames, moving from Layton’s Lane to the Staines Road in the heart of the town, which by later 18th century was a suburb of London.  When John retired from his work inspecting the railways - a job he must have held for around 50 years - he received something that would never have been possible back in Buscot – an old age pension.

Painting of a LSWR locomotive in its original livery, in 1855.  Note the platelayer's / signalman's hut

Happy New Year

Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)

Seen the lights go out on Broadway

I saw the Empire State laid low

And life went on beyond the Palisades

They all bought cadillacs

And left there long ago

They held a concert out in Brooklyn

To watch the island bridges blow

They turned our power down

And drove us underground

But we went right on with the show

I've seen the lights go out on Broadway

I saw the ruins at my feet

You know we almost didn't notice it

We'd seen it all the time, on Forty-second Street

They burned the churches down in Harlem

Like in that Spanish Civil War

The flames were everywhere

But no-one really cared

It always burned up there before

I've seen the lights go out Broadway

I saw the mighty skyline fall

The boats were waiting at the battery

The union went on strike

They never sailed at all

They sent a carrier out from Norfolk

And picked the Yankees up for free

They said that Queens could stay

And blew the Bronx away

And sank Manhattan out at sea

You know those lights were bright on Broadway

But that was so many years ago

Before we all lived here in Florida

Before the Mafia took over Mexico

There are not many who remember

They say a handful still survive

To tell the world about

The way the lights went out

And keep the memory alive

Billy Joel