British Jewish veterans who fought for Churchill in WWII say the level of antisemitism in modern times feels like 'the whole world is against us' | Retrui News | Retrui
British Jewish veterans who fought for Churchill in WWII say the level of antisemitism in modern times feels like 'the whole world is against us'
SOURCE:Daily Mail
EXCLUSIVE: They proudly fought for Britain to free the world from the clutches of Hitler's fascism. But 80 years on, three Jewish veterans say they are alarmed by surging levels of antisemitism in the UK.
They proudly fought for Britain to free the world from the clutches of Hitler's fascism.
But 80 years on, three Jewish veterans say they are increasingly alarmed by surging levels of antisemitism in the UK - and fear 'the whole world is against us now'.
Joe Slyper, 106, Don Breslaw, 102 and Solly Ohayon, 99, still remain largely positive about Britain, but believe anti-Jewish hatred today is at levels they themselves did not experience when they were younger.
He told Adil Ray and Kate Garraway: 'What we fought for was our freedom, but now it's a darn sight worse than when I fought for it.'
While the trio are not so forceful in their opinion of today's Britain, they acknowledge the Second World War brought an end to Nazism - but not racially motivated hatred.
Don, who was just 19 when he was conscripted into the army, has come to sombrely conclude 'we've always been different - and when people are different, people tend to find cause to dislike us.'
The three spoke to Daily Mail as part of wide-ranging interviews on their wartime experience and how Britain compares today to before 1939.
Joe Slyper, who holds the distinction at 106 of being the oldest living Jewish man in the UK, the still sprightly veteran sees life now as 'completely different' to when he was growing up
Don Breslaw, 102, has expressed concern over surging anti-semitism in today's world
For Joe, who holds the distinction at 106 of being the oldest living Jewish man in the UK, the still sprightly veteran sees life now as 'completely different' to when he was growing up.
Born in Mile End, East London on July 15, 1919, he recalls simpler times and a 'happy childhood'.
Speaking from his comfortable care home in north London, a softly spoken Joe said: 'I remember as a youngster we had the North Eastern Railway running at the back of the garden. I used to stand on the wall and wave to the passengers as they went by.
'We had no fridge, just an outdoor pantry in the garden and an outdoor toilet. I still remember the gas lighting before we switched to electricity.
'Our family had the original "cat's whiskers" [an early crystal radio] to listen to the news, and then we had the wireless, which was powered by an accumulator [early form of rechargeable battery] which we had to take to a place to be charged every week.'
Shortly after he turned 20, Britain declared war and Joe was among the first recruits signing up for the British Army.
'There was going to be conscription so 10 of us, all friends, went together to the recruiting offices in Epping Forest. We thought if we signed up together we would be able to stay together, but the first thing they did was split us into different groups.
'I was left with just one friend, Alf Hirschman, and myself.'
Joe had just turned 20 when Britain declared war - and was among the first men to sign up
The pair arrived at Exeter barracks, where they were attached to the 9th Battalion Devonshire Regiment. Joe was trained as a signaller, where he learned semaphore and Morse code, before being transferred to Chichester as a basic training instructor tasked with preparing soldiers for deployment overseas.
'We used to give the recruits their first six weeks training in the army. When they came into the army, we trained them on how to become soldiers. Everything from firing a rifle, machine gun and anti-tank gun grenades to elementary tactics.
'We took them on 20-mile route marches. And when they left us, they were sent to fighting units, and we handled the next lot of recruits and so on.'
Serving throughout the war, Joe said he recalled only one incident where he was targeted for being Jewish.
'We'd been out shooting and it was pelting down with rain. When we got back to the truck, I said to a guy called Crowther: "Help me load up the truck with the empty ammunition boxes."
'But rather than help, he told me to f*** off. Being a sergeant I had to put him on charge, and he got 14 days in the glasshouse. When he came out, he came straight up and apologised.'
Joe said he endured life in the army 'as much as one could', reflecting he was barely out of his teenage years when the war broke out.
'Six-and-a-half years felt a hell of a long time out of my life.'
In 1940, Joe (pictured left) was ordered to help escort a group of U-boat prisoners who were landed at Plymouth to a detention camp in Barnet, north London. His close friend Alf Hirschman (pictured right) was later sent to Salerno, Italy, where he was killed in action
Joe was granted three days leave to marry his sweetheart, Rose, at East London Synagogue in Stepney, London, in 1940
Despite applying several times for transfer to an overseas fighting unit, Joe remained in Britain throughout the war because his skillset was considered too vital - a decision he calls 'luck' more than anything else.
Even when he and his friend Alf, were finally posted to Salerno, Italy, in 1943, at the very last moment Joe was ordered to stay behind.
Alf however was sadly one of the many British casualties who lost their lives during the brutal offensive. 'I still think about my friend today,' said Joe heavily.
There were however lighter moments that he experienced during the war years. In 1940 he was granted three days leave to marry his sweetheart, Rose, who he had met at the textiles company where they both worked before the war.
When asked what he liked about his wife of 73 years, he simply replied: 'Everything.'
'I remember our first date. We went to see a film at the Palace Theatre in Haymarket, and the next time I was back at work, the boss said to me: "I saw you with a smashing girl at the cinema. Who was she?" I didn't dare tell him that she worked for him as well!
'The army granted me three days leave, so I left on the Friday, got married on the Sunday and was back to camp on the Monday.'
For many years after the Second World War Joe proudly marched with fellow veterans at the annual AJEX parade, which takes place in central London every November
Joe, aged 91. with his grandson, son-in-law and one of his great-grandchildren
He recalled how in the months after he married, Joe was ordered to help escort a group of U-boat prisoners who were landed at Plymouth to a detention camp in Barnet, north London.
'The army was very strict. I was two minutes away from the home we had bought in Finchley - but they still wouldn't let me go,' smiled Joe at the memory.
Once the war ended, he returned to the fashion industry, before moving into curtain making and interior design in his later years. He and Rose went on to have two children, Anne and Graham, and today he is a doting grandfather of five and great-grandfather of 10.
Time moved on but Joe never forgot his comrades. For the next 50 years he dedicated his free time to fundraising for the Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen & Women (AJEX), a charity set up to help disabled and elderly veterans.
Asked why he first became involved with the cause, Joe said: 'I remember we used to take ex-servicemen and women, Jewish and non-Jewish, to Brighton every year.
'And I met one fella who was "bomb happy" - his hands couldn't stop shaking.'
Having witnessed first-hand a veteran suffering the symptoms of shell shock, Joe said his 'mind was made up' that he would do all he could to help others.
As functions chairman of the Finchley and Hampstead Garden Suburb branch, Joe arranged visits to stately homes, overseas cruises, trips to Israel, and annual weekends in Bournemouth. His volunteering brought him to the attention of MPs, Lords and several prominent figures, including former Prime Minister, Baroness Thatcher - as well as an invite to Buckingham Palace.
'I was one of millions': Don Breslaw, 102, modestly looked back at his time in the British army during the Second World War
Joe also played a key role in fundraising for a block of 20 flats in Stamford Hill, north London, to provide accommodation for veterans.
He only stepped down from his role when he reached his 100th birthday - having raised altogether what in today's terms would amount to more than £4million.
Reflecting on Britain today compared to before the war, Joe said: 'It's a different life completely now. With all the iPads and the iPhones and all the modern technology, it's a different world.'
Does he worry at all that another world conflict could break out?
'God forbid, God forbid,' he said emphatically. 'When I think of the Nazis, I only have hatred. They did a lot of damage to the world. Six million Jews and millions of non-Jews were killed.
'It's terrible to think that there's still so many that hate the Jewish people.'
That said, Joe is a man always ready to see the brighter side of life and he remains positive about Britain.
When asked what his message for young people today would be, he simply advises: 'Just work hard and make the best of life.'
As an apprentice pharmacist Don could have been excused from serving - but he chose to serve when he was called up on his 19th birthday
Don Breslaw, whose war experience took him from the shores of Britain to Algiers and the 'sharp end of the Gothic line' fighting Nazi troops in Italy, looks back at his time in the army with nothing less than abundant modesty.
'I was one of millions,' said the 102-year-old. 'I was pleased I did it. Samuel Johnson said: "Every man thinks meanly of himself for not having been a soldier." And if you serve in the army, you have done your bit, that's what I can say. But really, I was just a cog in a wheel.'
Don - who by remarkable coincidence shares the same birthday and lives in the same care home as Joe Slyper, and who also worked in curtains and textiles - was still a teenager when war was declared in September 1939.
He was brought up in Bethnal Green, East London. Don recalled: 'My parents had a very good business. They were drapers, we sold everything. Mother, bless her, was a wonderful cook. Father worked hard, but he liked to enjoy his life. He was a good man. I was very lucky.'
During the early months of the war and without knowing what was around the corner, Don was evacuated with fellow classmates from Parmiters Grammar School to Aylsham in Norfolk, where he was placed with a couple who lived in a miner's cottage.
'They were very nice people, Mr and Mrs Mills. They had a Norfolk oven, which was an oven set into the wall. My parents had a car and visited us, where they were entertained in the front garden with parsnip wine.'
He was then sent to North Walsham, where he was enrolled at Paston Grammar School.
'I was placed with a widower, Mr Farman, the richest man in North Walsham. He was a thatcher who had worked on cottages in Windsor Great Park. He and his son tried to teach me how to make a wicker chair with reeds, but I was no good!
Don Breslaw's war experience took him from the shores of Britain to Algiers and the 'sharp end of the Gothic line' fighting Nazi troops in Italy
'I wasn't unhappy there, but nothing was happening so I thought I would go back home again.'
Those initial months of the war, known as the 'Phoney War', led Don to believe he would be safe back home with his parents in east London.
'I began to cycle home and my dad came the other way with the car to pick me up,' he recalled.
Despite having matriculated, Don said he 'didn't have any aspirations for further education' and decided to become an apprentice to a pharmacist in Tottenham Court Road.
Life was interrupted again however at the outbreak of the Blitz in September 1940, forcing the family to evacuate out to a property in Windsor. They lived above a shop from where they continued their drapery business, with Don recalling they would travel back and forth to the other shop they ran in Bethnal Green.
On his 19th birthday on July 15, 1942, Don received his call-up papers. As an apprentice pharmacist he could have been excused from serving, but he chose to join the ranks.
'I was first sent down to Bodmin, Cornwall, for around eight weeks and then I was sent to the 62nd Royal Armored Corps training battalion near Barnard castle in County Durham.
'There I was trained as a gunner operator to communicate between the tanks.'
Don wearing his medals at an annual AJEX parade he attended with his son, Alan
He was later sent to Nottingham with the Lancashire Fusiliers, where he continued his role as a gunner and radio operator, before receiving his first foreign deployment.
Don was not told at the time that he would be sent to the so-called Gothic Line separating German and Allied forces. It was here that there were more than 7,000 British casualties between August 1944 and January 1945 alone.
Don recalled: 'I was sent to Liverpool. I can remember standing on the cobblestones waiting to get onto the RMS Samaria, a Cunard ship that sailed in convoy because of the risk of submarine attacks.
'I was placed on seventh deck, where we slept in hammocks. We washed with sea water soap - something I've never seen before or since - and finally we sailed into Algiers. From a distance, it looked very pretty there, with very white buildings.
'I can remember seeing a poor chap walking around with his army overcoat in the hot burning sun. He was suffering from malaria, which was quite prevalent in those days.
Don was deployed into the 10th Royal Tank Regiment stationed near Bone, where he stayed for nine months. He recalled the troops being affected by the excessive heat of the summer.
'I can remember standing in a shower, which was a suspended oil drum, in my khaki drill to cool off - but I was dry in about five minutes. We used to get up early and work until we couldn't touch the tanks any longer because of the heat.'
Eventually his unit was ordered on to Italy, sailing on the SS Cristobal to Naples. As the ship neared the Bay of Naples in March 1944, Don witnessed with his own eyes the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.
For the next few months he was stationed with the 1st Assault Regiment of the Royal Engineers on the banks of the Volturno River, near Caserta, before the unit was ordered to head further north towards the Gothic Line.
It was there that Don played a pivotal tole in operating the tanks to help rebuild bombed bridges and deactivate landmines.
'We just did our job as best we could. I didn't do anything important. I was just one of millions doing my bit,' said Don humbly, recalling the moments when he saw bombers flying overheard amid the incessant sound of German gunfire.
Of being a Jewish soldier, he said he was not treated any differently and only remembered a minor incident in which he was 'told to go back to Palestine'.
'But other than that they left me alone. I could honestly say I never suffered any anti-semitism.'
Of the situation today however, Don said he was saddened to see that incidents of anti-Jewish hatred are on the rise since Israel's war against Hamas and subsequent invasion of Gaza.
He warned: 'Wars are bad, they tear people apart. I'm not in favour of wars, I can tell you that much. It's a terrible thing that happens in war.
'When I say war now my mind goes to Israel and what happened on October 7 - it was unbelievable. It feels like we have the world against us.
Don married his wife Binnie in 1951, with the couple going on to have three children, seven grandchildren and six great-grandchildren
'But people who are anti-Jewish are like that from the word go. We've always been different, and when people are different, they tend to find cause to dislike us.'
Don was finally sent home on compassionate grounds in 1946 after his mother had an operation and he returned to work in the family business.
Nearly 80 years on, he said his biggest regret in life was never qualifying as a pharmacist. But Don did remarkably return to study to gain his BSc degree - from the Open University at the age of 87.
'I would have liked to have used my brain to a better extent. I was never brilliant, but I was above average. I should have used my brain for something scientific, but I did the best I could and I'm content with what I've done.'
After the war, Don married his wife Binnie in 1951 and they went on to have three children, seven grandchildren and six great-grandchildren. 'With another one on the way,' he smiled.
Of meeting his wife, he laughed: 'We were sat at a wedding and we just clicked. I must admit, we both wore glasses, but she wasn't wearing hers that day. And I wasn't wearing mine - so it must have been what I call a blind date.'
Did Don believe Britain was a better country in the past?
'We lived in an era where we accepted things as they are. Today people don't. It was more authoritarian in that respect, you did what you were told. It was good in some ways, but I don't want to remember the bad times. Living in the past is not for me. I like to live for the future.'
As for his message for the youth of today, Don said it was important for them to respect their elders.
'Keep your nose clean, honour your parents and do unto others as others would do to you. That's always been my philosophy in life.'
At 99, Solly Ohayon is the youngest of the three veterans. Aged 17, he was under the minimum age when he approached an army recruitment centre in Neasden - but in the months after thousands of men were lost following D-Day, 'no questions were asked'.
Born to Moroccan parents, Solly was raised in Barnes, south-west London and was the second eldest of five children.
Leaving school at 14 to work in his father's metal engineering firm, he was soon moved on to a factory in Neasden where he worked on parts used in the construction of Spitfires.
Speaking from his home in north London, Solly said: 'I used to cycle to work from Barnes to Neasden and I used to pass an Army territorial place every day. I don't know what made me think about joining, but I decided to volunteer. At that time, England was so short of men. After D-Day they would take on anybody just to replace those who were lost.
'I was young and wanted to serve because I thought I wanted an adventure.
'After a little bit of training in England, I was attached to Sheffield's own battalion and ended up being sent as a reinforcement to France and Normandy.
Aged 17, Solly Ohayon (centre) was under the minimum age when he signed up - but in the months after thousands were lost following D-Day, 'no questions were asked'
'As soon as I got to the front line I realised it wasn't all glamorous being a soldier, what with the bombing and shelling and everything. We started hearing from people who had been there on D-Day and what they had seen. I began to realise how important we were, but also how serious this was.'
Solly recalled that at first the situation was 'calm', but as his unit advanced through France 'there was plenty more action there'.
'I did become worried, especially when they started shelling and launching mortars. If you were in an infantry battalion your chances of coming out alive were slim, especially as we were on the front line. I have to say that I was very lucky.'
There were in fact three occasions on which the brave veteran believes luck was on his side.
'The first was that I was put on advance to contact when we went through France. They never explained a great deal to me or maybe I didn't listen, but I didn't realise that I had to advance until we literally contacted the enemy. So whoever had been in the front would usually get shot first and their chances of surviving were slim.
'The second time was when I was transferred to the headquarters of our battalion, because they needed a signalman and I had been trained. The rest of my company meanwhile was sent forward - and they came under mortar fire. Half of them were killed that day. I was very upset, I couldn't believe it - some of those who died were people I was very close to.
'On another occasion, I was digging a trench on the front line and then we heard this shell come whizzing over and hitting the ground. It landed about two or three yards away from me but it didn't explode.'
Solly was also wounded by a grenade during the theatre of war - but only realised he still had shrapnel in his knee during a medical appointment many years later.
Solly with his wife of 72 years, Bertha, at an AJEX annual parade, wearing his war medals
He shook his head in disbelief as he recalled how fortune had repeatedly been on his side.
'My mother said she would pray for me - and look, I'm still here,' he smiled.
Towards the end of the war, Solly's unit was sent on to Holland, where his unit held the Allied line.
'The worst thing I can remember was doing the standing patrol among the canals, which had frozen over. All we could hear was the ice cracking around us.'
By the time his unit had advanced to Germany, the war was at an end and Solly was being recalled to Britain to be trained for the Far East.
Fate intervened once more with the rapid development of the Atom bomb, meaning the Second World War was finally over and he was saved from being transferred to Asia. He was instead deployed to Italy where he saw out the last months of his service as a dispatch rider.
Like Joe and Don, Solly does not recall being treated differently as a Jewish soldier, but acknowledges the situation is different today. 'There's a lot of antisemitism now, which is terrible,' he said.
After the war, he met his wife Bertha, who had arrived in Britain in 1939 from Vienna on the Kindertransport. The pair married in 1948 and initially moved to the fledgling state of Israel, before returning to Britain after three years when Solly's father fell unwell.
Solly with his wife Bertha and their three children, Sharon, Naomi and Joseph
Taking over the family business, the couple raised their three children in north London. Today, Solly has eight grandchildren and six great-grandsons.
'I'm still waiting for a great-grand-daughter,' he quipped.
Reflecting on Britain today, he said that times were better and he at least hoped that humanity had learnt a lesson from the Second World War.
'The worst thing that could happen is a nuclear war. I still remember when they dropped the atom bomb. I couldn't believe what I was hearing on the radio about the power of a nuclear bomb compared with normal bombs. No one should want to start another war, because wars are terrible.'
Of his advice to the younger generation, Solly said: 'Study as long as you can and don't throw your life into only work. Go out, play tennis, bowls or golf. Go skiing. Stay active and you'll live longer.'
As for his proudest achievement, there was no hesitation at all in Solly's answer.
'My children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. They are very important, aren't they really?'
Paying tribute to the three veterans, Dan Fox, national chair of AJEX, said they were from the 'greatest generation'.
He said: 'Joe, Don and Solly are amongst the few that now remain from that greatest, remarkable generation in the face of great evil, ensured the allied victory in the Second World War. All we have today, we owe to them.
'Their service as Jews perhaps has a particular poignancy given the nature of the enemy faced. What an honour it is to still be able to celebrate them today.'