The poem below is based on this excerpt from my father in law's autobiographical account of his early life written for the family.
"In the event there were only minutes to say farewell to my beloved parents, to receive last minute instructions, to console each other about a likely reunion in the not too distant future and I was off, really alone for the first time in my life and a vast unknown fate ahead. The journey was full of foreboding. There were German troops in warlike gear at Cologne station and a long stop at the German side of the Dutch border with lots of officials examining papers, luggage etc. One of these asked me to step onto the platform after he had completed his duties in other compartments but my fellow passengers advised me to ignore him. I never saw him again. After a long time, the train moved and I left Germany for the first time. Dutch border checks were swift but I was able to send a postcard to my parents from Venlo station. Currency controls were such that the only permitted cash on me consisted on 17s 6d (75p).
A few hours later we reached the Hook of Holland and embarked on the ferry to England - my first ever sight of the sea. The visa was examined by a kindly English customs man. What a contrast to barking Nazi officials."
Verner is pictured with his younger brother and parents.
Father in Law
Such quick farewells to them both at the station.
Sixteen years old. They would not meet again
Leaving home, younger brother, his school and his nation
So young to experience such fear and pain
Last minute instructions from father and mother.
Consoled by the thought they would meet again soon
He is sent from the homeland. Torn from each other
By the furious barking of some Nazi goon
He arrived at the border and saw strangers' faces.
Fear gripped his heart. An official barged in
He examined him closely and told him to go
Back on to the platform. Voice reedy and thin
He started to stand as the man moved on down
To another compartment to hunt further prey
A hand reached across and a kindly young man
Pushed him back in his seat. He just whispered, 'Stay'
It seemed like an age before the sharp whistle
Blew loudly to signal the train must depart.
A jerk and a rattle. It moved from the station
The wheels beat a rhythm that mirrored his heart
Through the Dutch border. Checks thorough but speedy
A postcard from Venlo to tell of his ride
His parents he knew would be fretful and needy
Of news of his journey. This posted, he sighed
A few hours of travel to his destination
South of the Hague, where he clambered aboard
First ever view of the sea. A sensation
He'd never forget. For a while his heart soared
His visa perused by an English official
Not barking, not shouting not screaming but kind
He stamped both his papers. His look, not judicial
Unlike those sentinels he'd left behind
My life be would different. If not for that warning
If the hands of a stranger had not held him back
On the train, in the station, in Cologne that morning.
To be herded to death with rest of the pack.
To that young man who gave Werner protection
And never knew what would become of the boy,
I offer my thanks in this poor, brief reflection
He gave me my family. He gave me my joy
