My grandparents were Kurt Kaminsky and Ilse Tradelius. They died in the Theresenstadt (now Terezin) concentration camp in 1944. I know very little about them; only that they were involved in the clothing trade in Berlin and lived in Offenbacherstrasse. The apartment where they lived still existed in 1990. I have only one photograph of them. It is at the wedding of the parents of my cousin Heinz Tradelius who lives (or lived) in Durban, South Africa. It was probably taken in about 1908 and shows a large number of very imposing looking people – the ladies with huge hats and the men with magnificent whiskers.

Their only child (my father) was born in 1920 and named Fritz Werner Kaminsky. He was a very intelligent child. In 1938 he was in a school class, which contained two Jewish boys. They were both achievers and were asked to leave the school. My father worked in a laboratory for a year and left Germany in 1939 shortly before the outbreak of war. He told me the officials at the airport in Berlin stripped him and the told him he had better run if wanted to catch his flight to England.

My father’s aunt had studied in England. She had left Germany earlier and organized work for him in the laboratory of a textile factory in Huddersfield, West Yorkshire. When he first arrived at work he created a sensation by wearing “plus fours” – apparently fashionable in Germany but not in a mill town in the north of England. My maternal grandfather was in charge of the steam engine which powered the machinery at the factory. My parents first met when my father, who was an excellent dancer, was asked to make up a foursome and dance with her

My parents must have found the early days of their relationship difficult. The Second World War had started and my father was interned on the Isle of Man. The British must soon have realized that a lot of talent was being wasted as the internees wanted an allied victory and were prepared to contribute towards that end. My parents married in 1941 and I was born in 1943.

Religion did not play much of a part in my father’s life. Jewish by birth, he was an atheist by inclination and my mother’s views prevailed and we lived as a typical Yorkshire working class family. The only Jews we met were family who occasionally visited, and other refugees who had married English partners. My father spoke perfect English without a trace of any foreign accent, and was able to help me with my homework when I was at Grammar School.

My father never wanted to leave Huddersfield. My mother said he had been amazed by the warmth and acceptance of the people when he had arrived from Germany. He died in 2001. His ashes are interred in the Churchyard of the small church of St. Paul’s, Armitage Bridge. The stone covering them is easy to find. It is the only one with a Star of David on it!