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Ludwig Ernst Eichbaum was born on 27 April 1923, the only child of Friedrich and Gretl Eichbaum. His father was born on 16 December 1888 in Gunzenhausen, Bavaria, Germany and his mother, fourteen years his junior, on 2 November 1902 in the German city of Coburg. Lutz lived all his childhood in Nuremberg, an almost thousand-year-old, Gothic and very picturesque Bavarian city, in a mixed denominational and popular residential area. His home at Rudolfstrasse 29 comprised the whole ground floor in a narrow four-storey building which was entirely owned by his maternal grandmother. The neighbouring buildings were similar and looked as if they were all glued together in a tightly jammed row. Lutz and his family were the only Jewish family living there, the three upper floors being let out to their various tenants. His maternal grandmother, Selma, who lived with Lutz and his parents, occupied two adjoining rooms, a bedroom and a lounge, also situated on the ground floor. Selma was only thirteen years older than his father, and when still in her forties had lost her husband to illness before Lutz was born.

The large attic beneath the roofline accommodated the drying washing from all of the residents and there was a large cellar beneath the house where the family and tenants kept coal for their heating requirements; the winters could be very long and cold, and it usually snowed. A pulley lift enabled everyone to transfer their coal and firewood up from the cellar to all floors. Lutz was always happy to volunteer to clear the snow from the footpath at the front of the house; he used a long-handled wooden spade to push the snow away from the walkways and into the gutter.

There was no garden out the front and not much more than a yard out the back containing a large brick fireplace. There was just room for a small chicken run where the Eichbaum family kept several fowl; it was Lutz’s daily task to feed the chickens and collect their eggs. He quite enjoyed this responsibility and became adept at the latter, learning how to keep out of the way of a particularly aggressive fowl. On warm weekend days his parents would sit outside in deckchairs and read the newspapers. Lutz would endeavour to divert their attention by trying to engage them in more playful activities. When Lutz was older, he delighted in owning a ‘Brownie’ box camera and would surreptitiously take pictures of his parents in their more amusing states of repose or concentration. Their happy family life then seemed indestructible in their unknowingness of what lay ahead.

The Eichbaum family hired a maid, Kuni, who lived with them in a room down the end of the hall. It was not unusual at that time for families of moderate incomes to have live-in help and Kuni became part of the family. She was a young woman with an easygoing nature and Lutz was fond of her. She laid out his clothes for him each morning before undertaking household chores and preparing the family meals, which allowed his mother to have a lot of spare time to spend with him, having only one child to care for and no need to do paid work. Lutz remembered that Kuni always wore a sparkling white apron when visitors came to the house and a dish was placed near the front door in which appreciative visitors could deposit a few coins as a tip. On her day off her boyfriend would call for her at the house and Lutz would look forward to her later telling him about the film she had just seen. She left their employment when Lutz was almost thirteen because of Nazi edicts that no Jewish family was allowed to employ Aryan female domestic help under the age of 45 years; Kuni was of the Catholic faith. The family didn’t replace Kuni and most of these tasks would have been taken over by his mother and grandmother, as Lutz was never even expected to take care of or select his own clothing until he was forced to leave home at sixteen years of age.

Lutz was a good-looking child with a friendly, open and sometimes mischievous face and good-hearted nature. He was always just under average in stature and had fair, wavy hair which earned him the nickname of ‘Curly’ from some of his school friends. Gretl was the more sociable and fun-loving of his two parents and Lutz was particularly close to her. Unlike Lutz, she had naturally dark hair and features and was the taller of his two parents; his father was bald from the earliest time Lutz remembers him and always wore thick, round metal-framed glasses. Gretl affectionately called her husband Fritz. He had served in the German Army during World War I as an acting field hospital inspector attached to a military field hospital (No. 20), not a combatant role, probably due to his defective eyesight. His father hardly ever made reference to his wartime experiences, except to inform his family that he still possessed a small handgun, which he had kept from the last war. It was more recently discovered through the Bavarian State War Archives that Friedrich Eichbaum, at the age of 26, received the Military Cross 2nd Class with Swords, the Prussian Iron Cross 2nd Class and Official Honours 3rd Class for special service to his country.

Fritz worked with his only brother, Zion, a bachelor, in a self-employed importing/exporting toy business. They lived comfortably and well, considering there was still a substantial amount of unemployment in Germany due to the Depression, which followed the slump in the world economy in 1929. Germany was hit particularly badly as the nation was still making reparations from World War I. Fritz was therefore able to employ cheap labour in the packing room. Lutz enjoyed the benefit of having his father work in the toy industry and was never short of playthings. One of his treats was to go to his father’s place of work and look at all the new arrivals displayed on the long shelves in the office; he remembers playing with toy cars and trucks and an electric train set. Fritz would usually walk the fifteen minutes home for lunch each day with his family and would sometimes invite prospective buyers (from England, Switzerland and Germany) to their home for dinner.

In the 1920s and 1930s Lutz’s father and uncle, as well as many of their acquaintances, were involved in the toy industry in Nuremberg, either in production or exporting goods. Lutz’s father bought the toy export business previously owned by Hans Krauss Nachfolger and retained the same business name. The office and packing rooms were situated in Kreuzlinger Strasse where they occupied some ground floor rooms. Several employees worked in the packing area. Each year Lutz’s father would travel to Leipzig to the internationally renowned Toy Fair (the venue later changing to Nuremberg itself). The following explains the context of the industry in which Lutz’s family members were involved.

Nuremberg and the toy industry

Nuremberg has more than 600 years of history in toy production and in the fourteenth century was one of the most politically, culturally and economically powerful cities in Europe, situated at the crossroads of important trade routes. It played a major role as the ‘birthplace of technol-ogy’, initially as a cottage industry, before producing goods in industrial quantities using master craftsmen to manufacture innovative toys of higher quality, and unskilled workers to make cheaper goods. There developed a distinct division of labour between labourers and organised craftsmen who set up guild-like organisations with more rigid trade rules.

Finger-length dolls were first made out of white unfired clay, the Tockenmacher or doll-maker gradually developing these into larger finer figures made of alabaster and tragacanth (a resinous secretion obtained from certain plants). By the eighteenth century doll makers began to specialise in the use of papier-mâché (head, arms and legs attached to stuffed bodies).

During this time wooden toys were also developed and these, along with dolls, were provided in large quantities for export. These wooden items, illustrated in a 1798 catalogue produced by prominent department store owner, Hieronimus Bestelmeier, comprised hobby horses, wooden building blocks and figures, fully-furnished dolls houses, miniature shops, tin soldiers, musical instruments, parlour games, magnetic and optical toys such as kaleidoscopes and mechanical marvels. Nuremberg also had a solid tradition as a centre for printing books and a wealth of products emerged for children and young people from the publishing houses.

By the turn of the nineteenth century, numerous smaller companies, the so-called Kleinmeister (small masters) took over production from the self-employed master craftsmen in the production of cheap metal toys, e.g. rattles, spinning tops, bells etc. Further growth in the German toy industry required more labour, and by 1889 a large component of toy manufacture relied exclusively on cheap labour of female and child workers, many of them as ‘out-workers’.

During World War I, Nuremberg’s toy industry was temporarily disrupted as the priority switched to arms production. The first Toy Fair in Nuremberg was held in 1950 when the original location, Leipzig, was cut off from western markets by the division of East and West Germany directly after World War II.

More recently, globalisation has seen a decline in the German toy trade with the production of plastic toys and the extraordinary growth of US and Asian toy industries. Only the most specialised manufacturers were able to survive, e.g. model railways and other innovations such as ‘Playmobil’. In spite of this competition, in 1995 there were still 25 toy-producing companies in the region and, due to the great importance of this annual trade fair almost all associations for Germany’s toy industry and trade have their headquarters in Nuremberg.

Lutz’ father also had a sister, Adele, who lived nearby with her husband Theodore Lebrecht and her brother Zion in their home at Further Strasse 4, which had a terraced balcony overlooking the long and steep back garden, leading down to a stream or canal; Lutz was forbidden to go near the water in his early years. Uncle Theo was a big, jolly, very likeable man with a florid complexion, and he loved to make up humorous poems for Lutz’s benefit. Aunt Adele was short and dark-haired with strong features and a personality to match. They never had children of their own, so doted on Lutz as if he were their own son. Lutz remembers that Uncle Theodore managed his own business and Aunt Adele was employed as a qualified baby’s nurse; she loved her work and always wore her uniform proudly.

When he was old enough, Lutz often cycled to their home after school and sometimes at weekends; he always looked forward to the tea and cakes his aunt had prepared for him. Lutz had no siblings or cousins but, although small, they were a happy family; both of his parents were warm and outgoing people. He had often hoped for a younger brother or sister but never asked his mother about it. Lutz was therefore the centre of attention, being the only child of his generation. This may have resulted in him becoming a gregarious and sociable child and he was successful in seeking companionship from other children in his neighbourhood and at school. This friendly, open nature was to stand him in good stead for the rest of his life.

From about the age of six years, Lutz had two special friends who lived directly opposite in a house across the street. You could say that they took on the role of surrogate brother and sister, Heinz being the same age as Lutz and Rosa a few years older. The Appel siblings were not Jewish, but religion seemed irrelevant to their close bond. Most days they played on the Appels’ roof garden, and these episodes were some of Lutz’s happiest childhood moments. Their father was a building supplier and their premises included a huge yard stocked with a variety of building materials, a source of inspiration for imaginative play. There were steps up from the yard to the one-storey-high roof garden, and the three of them would sit on the wall surrounding the vegetable beds and chatter. Heinz and Rosa’s dog, an average-sized mongrel, not dissimilar in appearance to a black and white bull terrier, was often the focus of their play. Lutz’s mother would often complain that he spent more time at his friends’ home than at his own although really she was very happy for him. When Lutz met up with Rosa many years later she told him that he had been a cheeky boy, particularly towards his grandmother whom he would tease relentlessly. From these accounts it would seem that Lutz was a child secure in the knowledge that he was well loved.

Lutz’s mother had many friends and would spend several afternoons each week holding or attending coffee parties and playing cards with other Jewish matrons. When he was younger, Lutz sometimes accompanied her but at other times he was happy to stay at home with his grandmother, who would indulge him and buy him sweets. When his mother was due home at about four o’clock he would kneel up on the arm of the sofa to look out the window, watching for her to appear walking up the street. He pressed his face searchingly up against the glass, his nose squashed flat causing a cloudy mist to form, which he would repeatedly rub clear with his fingers.

The Eichbaum family was not overtly religious, particularly on his mother’s side, but his father was more serious about religion and attended the synagogue regularly. Lutz and his mother only attended on high holydays, two or three times each year on the Day of Atonement, New Year etc. and did not observe the rituals at home except for the Day of Atonement when they were supposed to fast for 24 hours; Lutz found abstaining from food for more than a short period very difficult to comply with and on more than one occasion broke the fast early.

Lutz started school at age six, attending the Nuremberg Hauptschule (a mixed-gender and religious establishment). He wore a school uniform but preferred to wear lederhosen at weekends and holidays; these traditional leather shorts and braces he enjoyed wearing until his early teens. He remembers that once the leather was worn in it was a very comfortable and practical garment to wear.

After the Nazi regime or National Socialist German Workers party came into power in March 1933, his parents were ‘persuaded’ to move Lutz to a Jewish school in order to avoid discrimination and educational disadvantage.

The onset of racial alienation and oppression of Jewish society was in part legitimised by government propaganda which scape-goated Jews for all the social and economic ills since Germany’s defeat in World War I. Over the next few years they would be increasingly segregated from commercial, economic, social and cultural life by means of a campaign which fostered animosity and intolerance from the non-Jewish community. This ruthless discrimination began with Nazis marching in the streets with plac-ards reading: ‘Germans, Don’t Buy From Jews’ and ‘ Jews Want To Destroy Germany’. They also encouraged the display of ‘Jews Unwelcome’ signs in shop windows, and anti-Semitic graffiti began to appear on walls and sides of buildings. Just before Lutz’s tenth birthday, on the Saturday before Easter, there was the first national boycott of Jewish businesses. It had mixed success from a Nazi perspective but it did its job in promoting fear and intimidation, at least temporarily, as intermittent lulls in persecution gave a false sense of security for those trying to adjust to this abnormal normality.

Lutz’s Jewish secondary school was about a half-hour tram ride from Nuremberg, situated in a small town called Fuerth. Lutz was very happy there and at first hardly noticed the change in the political environment. He never heard his parents discuss political issues at home; besides, they may have thought that this hatred unfairly targeted at Jews couldn’t last. The Nazi regime declared its single-minded offensive against the Jews in September 1935 when Hitler announced at the Nazi Party rally in Nuremberg that all Jews would be stripped of their rights and be reduced to the status of second-class citizens with no entitlement to vote. Hitler had promised the German people glory and a great future for their nation but first the country had to ‘purify itself ’ by segregation of all the Jews (as well as other undesirables).

The subsequent introduction of the Nuremberg laws formalised the Jews’ diminished status and the persecution was stepped up. ‘Jews Undesired’ or ‘Juden Verboten’ signs started to appear everywhere – at swimming pools, playgrounds, tennis courts, res-taurants, theatres and konditorei – the cafes which were highly patronised by the Jewish community. However, Lutz and his friends were undeterred, continuing to meet at each other’s homes or at Jew-friendly establishments. Lutz had some non-Jewish friends who were discouraged to mix with their Jewish counterparts and encouraged to join the Hitler Youth but Lutz doesn’t recall any particular victimisation from his peers during this period. Rosa and Heinz may have joined the Hitler Youth, but regardless of whether or not they did, their friendship continued undisturbed until Lutz’s sudden departure from Germany. Lutz lost touch with them both and although he would never see Heinz again, through a curious twist of fate he did renew his friendship with Rosa.

Lutz’s closest friend at his new school was Franz Hess, who lived in Fuerth where their school was located. He was the same height as Lutz, but had a thinner frame and curlier hair. They met at the beginning of the 1935 school year, which signalled the beginning of a lifelong friendship and (in Franz’s words) they ‘clicked right from the start’. They spent much of their spare time together, their loyalty to each other undoubted. They shared a similar sense of humour and used to joke around and sling off at each other much of the time within their group of friends. He and Franz sometimes used to stop at a coffee bar on the way home from school as Lutz was often hungry. He especially liked to purchase chocolate bars with his pocket money, which he earned partly by running errands for his mother to the local shop. One day Lutz remembers putting his coins in the machine for a drink and watching in amazement as the liquid gushed out and overflowed onto the floor instead of filling up his cup. It just didn’t stop! At first they gazed in astonishment at the dark, sticky fluid running down the front of the machine and beginning to pool on the floor, then Lutz looked at Franz and noticed that his shoulders had begun to shake, the laughter moving into his face until tears were streaming down his cheeks. Soon Lutz was also wracked in side-splitting convulsions at the comedy of the situation. They just couldn’t stop and nor did the machine.

In fact Lutz was quite the practical joker and he often co-opted friends, usually Franz, to commit harmless pranks. His favourite hoax was to attach a fine piece of string to a wallet and throw it out of his bedroom window onto the nearby footpath. The fun gained was at the expense of the gullible passersby, as they tried to pick up the wallet the person in charge of the string surreptitiously pulled it away. On another occasion he delivered a bucketful of horse manure through a neighbour’s letterbox to express his dislike for this person’s ever grumpy, fault-finding temperament.

At the age of thirteen Lutz celebrated the traditional bar mitzvah, first undertaking preparatory classes in Hebrew before reading from the Torah in the synagogue on the Sabbath after his birthday, which fell on a Monday that year. This ritual sym-bolised the fact that he had reached a level of maturity to be now considered old enough to take responsibility for his own actions. Afterwards, Lutz’s proud parents hosted an informal reception at their home for family and friends, and with the serious part of the proceedings completed, Lutz could appreciate the gifts and enjoy the specially prepared foods.

Lutz’s schoolmates also included Eric Heilbronn, a close friend whose father was a rabbi. Eric was academic rather than practical and Ernie recalls that he couldn’t even hammer a nail into the wall! Another member of their group, Harold Reissner, always dressed well and liked to talk about his numerous money-making schemes. Herbert Leiter was a very tall, skinny boy but surprisingly well coordinated despite his wiry frame and ‘coat-hanger’ arms. All these boys would often meet to play table tennis at Lutz’s home at weekends and sometimes after school. They gathered in his bedroom, which was large enough to accommodate the table tennis table as well as all the other items necessary to furnish a schoolboy’s domain. One school friend who never missed these meetings was Walter Aufhauser, who was the undisputed star at table tennis; his athletic frame never let a ball escape. The others would watch in wonder as his arms leapt away from his body, reaching every ball, as fleeting as a frog’s tongue catching its prey.

(After surviving Dachau concentration camp, Harold Reissner eventually emigrated to New York and, in his own words, became a ‘self-made’ man; he particularly enjoyed life’s luxuries and engineered his efforts into providing them. Walter Aufhauser would later emigrate to Israel and Herbert Leiter also survived the war.)

Henry Kissinger (who was later to become Secretary of State in the United States of America) was also in Lutz’s class at school, and he and Lutz were on friendly terms. Henry had a more serious and academic disposition and was not good at sports, but he did sometimes join the group for table tennis at Lutz’s home. Kissinger was given the abbreviated nickname of ‘Kissus’ but Lutz and his friends didn’t attribute this to any particular success with his female classmates! After the war Kissinger never attended any of the American reunions for former displaced Jewish inhabitants of Nuremberg and Fuerth; he apparently always told the organising committee that he had a prior engagement even though the reunions gave notice months in advance.

At school there were two memorable teachers. Herr Mandelbaum, who taught geography, was a large overweight fellow who was not very strict with his pupils. Consequently there was not much discipline in his class and the students got away with all sorts of misdemeanours. Conversely, Herr Heineman was a small man who taught history and biology and disciplined his class disproportionately, well beyond what could reasonably be expected from his diminutive stature. The students, hearing him approaching down the corridor, would jump back to their desks in the nick of time. Herr Heineman would hit the door handle with some force on his way into the classroom, always finding his students quiet and sitting up straight, in anticipation of the imminent subject matter to be studied. One day during botany studies they came to a passage describing the characteristics of the oak tree or eichbaum. Everybody thought that Herr Heineman would ask Lutz to read the passage but instead Herr Heineman asked Lutz’s girlfriend of that time, Susan Hamelbacher, to read out the narrative. The whole class roared with laughter.

Lutz considered himself an average student, quite intelligent but not excelling in any particular area academically. His end of term results were mediocre and if you were looking for his name on the exam list you would probably have found it round about the middle. He was encouraged in his studies by his parents, particularly his mother, who enjoyed helping him with his homework. Lutz’s favourite subject at school was history; he had a fascination for dates and the sequence of events, which would later motivate him to keep a diary to record his personal experiences as an interned refugee during World War II. However, his special talent and passion at that time was for sporting activities and he particularly enjoyed playing soccer at school; his usual designated position was right full-back. He also joined a Jewish sports club in Fuerth, which played a major part in his social life and he attended there most Sundays. He excelled at short-distance running and won many certificates and ribbons. During a competition he attended in Munich, Lutz and his team-mates were still hyped up and inspired by the previous year’s Olympic Games in Berlin and keen to prove their athletic prowess. Lutz won several of his events and shared some pencils he won with a member of the team, a boy named Arnold Hamburger. Another talented team member was Gert Holzman, who was renowned for his above-average height and his exceptional skill at the high jump.

Lutz met his future girlfriend Trudi at the sports club where he also befriended Liesl, who would later play a significant part in his life. Liesl was also a friend of Franz’s. She remembers a particular competition in Augsburg where she won a red tracksuit, and Lutz was awarded a glass bowl for winning a 100-metre sprint. From all accounts it seems that Lutz was an excellent sprinter.

There were several volunteers working at the club and Ernie fondly remembers Herr Baruch, who organised the meetings and events. Herr Baruch was a lot older than the other volunteers, a very pleasant man and wholeheartedly committed to his talented young teams.

Lutz’s early childhood could generally be described as happy and trouble-free. He was secure in his everyday routine, which was broken up by special holidays away with his mother. They took this opportunity each year while his father attended the annual Toy Fair in Leipzig. Some of Lutz’ earliest memories are of his mother taking him to a spa town on a lakeside, an hour or so train journey from home. They always stayed in the same hotel close to the edge of the water, and after a hearty breakfast they would walk the perimeter of the lake (which would take them the best part of an hour); on still days they would take a boat out. The main attraction of this area was the salt rocks that apparently had healing properties and it was a popular place for holidaymakers. One year they visited Konigsee, another favourite holiday resort for Nuremberg residents. The Konigsee Lake was nestled in the mountains of a national park and Lutz would gaze, enthralled by the radiant, emerald-green hue of the shimmering water.

Lutz’s mother had a good friend who owned a farm near Nuremberg at a little place called ‘Dennenloh’, and they often went to visit them during the school holidays. There were a couple of horses and some cows on the property, and Lutz particularly loved to go bareback horse riding; in fact he taught himself to ride and he would free-spiritedly canter or gallop across the fields and paddocks. Apart from their friends’ much younger son, there were rarely any other children around for company, but Lutz didn’t mind that as he enjoyed the fresh air and open space of the countryside regardless of company his own age. He remembers always having marvellous times there with his mother and her friends.

Nearer to home, Lutz and his mother regularly visited the Dutzenteich Park where, when the weather was fine, he would sometimes take his mother rowing on the lake among the other colour-faded wooden boats. It wasn’t particularly deep and was bordered by tall evergreen trees at one end and dense reed beds at the other. Lutz was strong and sturdy, and greatly enjoyed the physical sensation of rowing. Occasionally his grandmother accompanied them to the park and once she even took a boat ride with them. This was another memorable moment for Lutz when his grandmother insisted on getting out of the boat before they had completed their trip. Lutz and his mother eventually managed to reassure her and Lutz finally got them back safely to shore. Sometimes, on weekends, his father accompanied them on their walks but he never joined them in their rowing expeditions.

Lutz loved to ride his bicycle around the streets of Nuremberg. He cycled just for the love of cycling but usually had some destination in mind – over to his Aunt Adele or to the homes of his school friends. Apart from the weekend sports club, this pursuit had become almost his sole recreation since the introduction of the Nuremberg laws, as most places of entertainment and restau-rants had become prohibited to Jews. However, the Eichbaums continued to lead an active social life with their family and friends despite the fact that their participation in cultural and community facilities and events was severely curtailed.

However, worse was to come with the introduction in March 1938 of the most pervasive anti-Jewish law yet since the introduction of the Nuremberg laws: ‘The Law Regarding the Legal Status of Jewish Communities’. This law further eroded citizenship rights for Jews by denying them legal protection and subjecting them to increasingly austere administrative controls by the Nazi regime. By June all Jewish establishments had to be registered and identified as Jewish, clearly labelling them as such in the shop window or business entrance. This naturally included Friedrich’s toy export business, but although a sign was duly posted up at this time it did not have an especially detrimental effect on his trading. The dilemma of whether to stay or leave became the main focus of conversation around Jewish dinner tables, at work and at school.

These restricting new laws didn’t seem to have had a profound impact on Lutz’s enjoyment of life, partly because he was well protected from adverse events by his parents, and being young he was easily able to adapt his own social life accordingly. However, he was aware at that time that Liesl’s parents (her architect father was Aryan, her mother Jewish) were forced to observe the anti-intermarrying laws resulting in their immediate divorce. The Eichbaums learnt about the increasingly threatening and divisive activities of Hitler mainly from the newspapers, and to a lesser extent from the radio. As a teenager growing up in these times, Lutz was aware of an insidious rise in tension and increase in restrictions when out in public areas, and he noticed the proliferation of Nazi flags waved in the streets and displayed in people’s windows; also the foreboding anti-Jewish slurs and yellow ‘Stars of David’ painted on abandoned shops and buildings. His non-Jewish friends and acquaintances were afraid of getting into trouble if they associated with him so they tended to keep their distance. Lutz was inclined to accept his parents’ interpretation of events and naturally, as their only son, they were keen to protect him from the intensifying intolerance and its sinister implications. However, Fritz and Gretl could not prevent their son from experiencing some victimisation first hand.

There were many theatres and an opera house in Nuremberg and, before the cultural restrictions were imposed, Lutz used to enjoy live entertainment. He remembers the last occasion, attending the opera with his school friend Franz to see a performance of ‘Die Fleidermaus’. Although he wasn’t particularly musical, this was a favourite opera of his and he waited for the curtain to rise in happy anticipation. It was a full house and Lutz noticed many Nazi officers seated in front of him wearing their distinctive swastika-emblazoned uniforms. Unfortunately for Lutz and Franz, Adolf Hitler was also in attendance that night, and before the curtain went up an announcement was made that all Jews should leave the opera house immediately. Lutz and Franz had no choice but to join the bewildered and humiliated crowd of outcasts and they quickly left the opera building.

Shortly afterwards Lutz encountered this prejudice face to face. He was walking alone when a Nazi soldier stopped him on the footpath and asked him for street directions. Lutz immediately and helpfully described the route, then mid-sentence the soldier asked him if he was Jewish. On hearing his answer the soldier’s tone turned cold and he said, ‘ I don’t want to know the way’ and briskly walked off. Lutz could have been mistaken for being non-Jewish because of his fair hair and blue-eyed looks; he certainly didn’t conform to the ridiculous caricature of Jews as depicted by German propaganda. At fifteen, Lutz and Trudi were spending much of their spare time together. She was slim and dark-featured, and although having a serious side to her nature, was quick to laugh at Lutz’s jokes. They enjoyed each other’s companionship and spent many hours walking around the streets of Nuremberg, their preferred walk taking them up to the circular tower, capped with a peaked turret; it was a main feature of the city landscape. Their relationship didn’t last long as Lutz had to leave Germany about six months later. Lutz never saw Trudi again. After the war he discovered through a mutual acquaintance that she had been transported to a concentration camp. She survived this experience but tragically, shortly after her release, Trudi committed suicide.