Speech by Etienne Glaser

80 years is a very long thread I have to follow...

...back to the events that we’re here to think about and remember. I was six years old. I lived in Copenhagen, but not with my parents. They didn't dare have their children living where they lived.They were hidden and we were staying with friends. The night before this day my dad (I hadn’t seen him in some time), suddenly came up the stairs to the flat, where I was living with some kind ladies who spent their time sewing every day. And sometimes even sung for me. That’s what I remember.

And now he was in a big rush. I had to get dressed. It was a bit annoying because I had to wear double clothes. I got double socks, double underwear, double shirts. Then we ran down the stairs, and a taxi was waiting, and in it sat my mum and my older brother. And we took a bumpy ride to what’s the equivalent of the metro: There, at the station. I remember in my great hurry I happened to run straight into a pole that was right there.

I hit my head on the pole and started to cry. A group of German soldiers stood a little further away. One of them left the group and approached us and picked up his bayonet and put it on my forehead. I remember the expression on my mother’s face, in that moment and she was unusually pale.

Then we spent a night on a train, that was partially darkened and stood at a standstill. 

And that took us to Norra Själland and at one point we had to run off the train, and then we were in a hurry again. We were supposed to run down to a boat.

I remember that I discovered new sides of my mother that night. Right in that particular moment.

She took my hand, and we ran. And I happened to step onto a railroad track that was full of water. I stopped and said, “My foot’s wet!” “Don’t worry about it, come on!” she said.

This was an entirely new person. My mother was usually quite strict.  And very careful

about being clean and proper and all that. The fact that she didn’t care that my entire foot was wet – I still remember that, 80 years later.

The boat was a fishing boat, and we were put down in the hold. You climbed down a narrow ladder and there were a lot of people. It was incredibly crowded. What I remember from the crossing was how the boat rocked a lot. The weather was bad. And there was a folding table. And on the table sat a man who was trying to make my life a bit more pleasant. He picked me up and put me on that folding table, and every time the boat tilted, I went down the “slide” and he caught me.  And then he put me back, and I thought it was great fun.

But it ended, of course. We couldn’t go on like that for long. I think I fell asleep. At one point, I tried to ask if I could come up on deck. The air was so bad down there. You could barely breathe. No, I couldn’t go up on deck. When I woke up and had to climb up, we had arrived in Höganäs.

And I think I remember the sight of lights. And that felt secure.

My mother had her best coat on. With a bit of fur, like this. Someone had vomited right on her.

She said “Oh, it’s nothing”. For me, that was a new mother. The tiniest spot would normally be a reason to act. She was covered in vomit, and it didn’t matter.

The most powerful moment was when a man lifted me up and jumped from the boat to the pier. I remember that I saw down straight down between the pier and the boat. The glimmering water pitch-black. And I felt like he was rescuing me across that water. That was how I felt.

Then we were in the harbour, and we were taken. What I remember was that we were taken to a big assembly hall. There was a stage there. And above the stage were the theatre’s two masks. One happy and one tragic. And I asked my mum and dad when the show was going to start. They assured me that there was not going to be any show right now.

Instead, the women’s corps served us milk and a bun.

These were some snapshots from that night.

As proof that it happened.

And I stand here as living proof.