Escape from
Italy through Portugal

Notes:

There are two separate versions of Dad's description of his exodus, the first in English that he wrote in October 1994, and the second that he wrote in German to Christa Heinrich, who was writing about the subject. [She did actually reply back (see below). Dad's letter to her is in 1997.] While there is considerable overlap, the latter version has some additional detail, so I have tried to capture just that additional material with notes. In addition, he wrote a couple paragraphs in response to some questions from Ms. Heinrich.

I have broken this story into three pages: (1) getting out of Italy, (2) imprisonment in Lisbon, and (3) getting out of Portugal.

Dad's Memoirs (English version):

A not so funny thing happened on my way to USA.

A few months ago I ran across a notice in "Aktuell", a newsletter from Berlin which mother receives irregularly. A Mrs. Heinrich was interested in refugees who had been detained in Lisbon. I started composing a report-- of my odyssey - but then decided to send first a short letter to the lady - which turned out to be a wise move because she never replied, nor was my letter returned - another one of the many assorted mysteries of my life ! I have now decided to translate the report ( first composed in German for Mrs. H's benefit). Here it is!

Dads's response to some questions:

Some of your questions are not easy to answer. We were locked up because we arrived illegally (!) In Portugal, i.e. our visas were not approved by the international police. They let us land because the Japanese ambassador was particularly committed, not because he loved us so much, but because the shipping company was more afraid of the English in Liverpool if we were still on the ship. Incidentally, we had no difficulties in the investment port (Marseille, Gibraltar and Casablanca). In 1932 my wife and I spent three weeks in Portugal, including Madeira, we really enjoyed it. I have no prejudice against the country or its inhabitants - I hardly know them either. When I came to a door, I waited for someone to open it - keys and handles became symbols of freedom. I do not have any photos from that time, nor can I remember any other passengers.

This report has become longer than I expected. I would also like to apologize that my typewriter makes very cheeky mistakes and does not recognize umlauts. Sometimes I had written something earlier and now copied it. But the content has not suffered from it. I thank you for various interesting enclosures and hope that our contributions are useful.