Love and War in the WRNS

by Vicky Unwin

  Hermann died when Tom was six and, despite the fact that he barely knew his father, his father’s character was to influence him greatly throughout the rest of his life. As he writes in a letter to Sheila on 12 November 1946, ‘I fear you will find me a difficult man to live with even as mother found father. The trouble is I am too highly strung … always dissatisfied, always dripping …’ On 25 and 26 October (maybe his birthday made him so maudlin), he writes ‘if you marry me you are marrying a madman … this is the typewriter12 pa used to write his books on … He was mad too, mad and genial.’ A few weeks before their marriage he says, ‘it isn’t too late for you to realise you are marrying a soft fool, a dithering and undetermined semi-lunatic … I’m quite serious’.

  Hermann Ungar came from a very respectable, wealthy Jewish family in Boskovice, Moravia. In fact the name Ungar was only adopted when an ancestor, a Rabbi, probably Zebi Hirschl Ungar (1730–56), had visited Hungary to spread the faith (Ungar means Hungarian in German). Although they lived in the ghetto by law, they owned the largest house, the Kaiserhaus, or Emperor’s House, and his father was a respected brewer and purveyor of spirits, sometime mayor and leader of the local Jewish community. One of my father’s early memories is visiting his grandparents in the summer holidays and going round the vats of fermenting schnapps, running his finger under each tap, and licking it to get the taste of the spirit. The house dominates the square in the restored ghetto (Boskovice is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site), with a plaque to Hermann Ungar, and is still in use as a pub.

  Emil, Hermann’s father, was extremely well read, fluent in French and Russian, although German was their first language (my grandmother used to say, ‘Czech is for peasants’) and his wife, Jeannette Kohn, would give French lessons to the Grafin (Countess) in the local Schloss. Jeannette was a direct descendent of the High Rabbi of Prague, R Schmuel ABD Prague Ha-Levi (1756–1834). One of Hermann’s stories, ‘Colbert’s Journey’, published posthumously with a preface by Mann, is a gentle dig at his father’s bourgeois pretensions.

  Hermann was sent to the local grammar school in Brno, where he was a nervous boy and was treated by a neurologist at the age of 13 for ‘sexual urges’. In his late teens he fell in love with his cousin and, after the affair finished several years later – it was not suitable as they were first cousins – he had the first of many nervous breakdowns. He went on to study law at the universities of Berlin, Munich and Prague, and joined the imperial army in 1914 to fight on the Russian Front. He broke his leg, and later suffered from various ‘nervous complaints’, including depression, and was declared ‘unfit’ for frontline duty. The terrible things he saw during the Russian campaign were to affect him forever.

  Hermann Ungar.

  As a young man he had been an ardent Zionist; his sister Gerta had emigrated to Palestine in the 1920s and, although he became disillusioned with religion to such an extent that his two boys, Tomy and Sasha, were brought up ‘out of the faith’, he was claimed on his death by the leading Jewish writers’ groups, and has always been categorised as such. His tragic death at the age of 36 was as a direct result of being considered a neurotic hypochondriac – he died of peritonitis because no-one took him seriously when he said he felt ill. My father and his brother both inherited this obsession with their health.

  Tom’s mother Margarete, or Greta, was also from a respectable wealthy Prague Jewish family. She had already been married when she met Hermann, and the boys had an elder half-brother Hunza Weiss (John West). He and his father had fled to England before the war started, and later emigrated to Canada. According to reminiscences of friends and acquaintances, ‘Margarete – in contrast to Hermann – was “a healthy, happy, powerful and earthy person”, “statuesque, somewhat taller than Ungar, very attractive appearance”, “a very beautiful woman, richly endowed with female charms”, “a force of nature”.’13 She was an operetta singer, and held salons in their smart Art Noveau apartment overlooking the banks of the Vltava river. We scattered my father’s ashes there in 2012, looking on to his family home.

  Tom travelled to London, aged only 16, in 1938 to join his brother John and to study agriculture. In 1939 he used his last pennies to call his mother and brother to encourage them to leave immediately, which they did. The Ungar parents and Hermann’s younger brother, Felix, his wife and two children, dithered in Boskovice and Prague due to Jeannette’s ill health, although his Stransky niece and nephew were among the last to leave Prague on the Kindertransport. They were only 2 and 4 years old. Their parents Otto and Louisa Stansky, along with Greta’s mother, Paulina, and the rest of the Ungar family were not so lucky and disappeared in 1942, first to Terezin, and thence to Auschwitz, and were never heard of again.

  Greta Ungar with her three sons, Sasha, Hunza Weiss and Tomy, c. 1927.

  Many years later I questioned my father about his denial of his Jewish roots, and he said his mother had told them that once they arrived in England they were to claim to be Catholic. She, and as a result my father and his brother, was terrified that if the Germans won and it was known they were Jews, they would face the same problems all over again. He never lost that fear of anti-Semitism, and it explains why he continued to keep quiet about his ancestry and why he devoted much of his life to helping refugees.

  Greta and her two sons were evacuated to Wells, Somerset, where, aged 17, Tom joined the Home Guard. His mother worked in an armaments factory and Alec, as Sasha became from then on, managed to get into Bembridge school – both boys had been sent to the English school in Prague so spoke good English. Tom later joined Military Intelligence at Caversham because of his value as a German speaker.

  In 1943 he joined the Royal Navy’s Special Branch, training first at Skegness, where they were billeted in a disused Butlins camp, before joining HMS Pytchley at Fishguard, and then the Hunter, to provide Channel escorts, including for the D-Day landings. In 1944 he patrolled the Norwegian fjords aboard the Grenville.

  Later in 1944 he was posted to Scapa Flow where he served under Admiral Phillips and his role was to interpret Luftwaffe and Kriegsmarine HF and VHF traffic. From there he served on various ships in the Russian convoys, often on the admiral’s or commander’s ships as the intelligence given was crucial to the convoy’s survival. However, the closest he came to death was when he missed his footing jumping from a small lifeboat onto the HMS Lioness and ended up in the freezing water, sinking under the weight of his huge radio transmitter, which he was forced to relinquish, much to the fury of his commander. In early 1945 he joined HMS Hart under Commander Michael Sherwood on a mission to rescue valuable equipment from Germany of use to the Allies.

  His finest achievements came towards the end of the war, when in 1945 he was posted to Kiel under Commander, later Rear-Admiral, Jan Aylen, who was commanding the Walterwerke project. In addition to targeting a list of the top forty or fifty German scientists, including the inventor of the doodlebug, the primary objective was to persuade the inventor of the high-speed, hydrogen-peroxide fuelled submarines, Professor Walter, to give over his blueprints and defect to the West. Aylen, who did not speak German, received the credit for the mission, but it was Tom’s charm and fluency in German that was critical for its success and the eventual delivery of their equipment to the Vickers shipyard in Barrow-in-Furness. It was while Tom was working at Kiel that he met Sheila, probably at the yacht club, although it would have been normal for naval officers to socialise in such a small place as Kiel, surrounded by the former enemy.

  ❖❖❖

  By the end of August, Tom has returned from leave and it appears from his letters that they are contemplating a future together – in his last letter from Wells he writes, ‘let us hope that we, perhaps, shall achieve our Shangri-La. If there is a God – and I don’t think there is – he certainly should favour us. We have both deserved peace of mind and body.’ However, none of this is revealed in Sheila’s letters to her mother; symbolically she loses John Pritty’s ring while out on a walk at this time:
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  Kiel 11/9/46

  My dear Ma – Many many thanks indeed for your nice birthday card and letter – the only one I had! I had such a pleasant birthday but I will tell you all about that later on in the letter –

  … I’m afraid I lost the scarab ring for good this time as it slipped off my hand ‘somewhere’ while out for a walk last weekend, and although we searched and searched we could find it nowhere – maddening.

  Well, now for all my news – about ten days ago, soon after Tom came back from leave we had rather an unfortunate car smash, at 10 mph crashed into a tree – all so unexpected that I pushed my head through the windscreen and consequently got rather cut about. However, I was so beautifully stitched up by a German doctor that you can hardly see any scars at all even now and they say they will disappear completely with time. I may have to lose a tooth, that’s all. Poor Tom, so upset about it all, got the best black eye I’ve ever seen! He’s still got it too – after all this, our weekend at Bad Harzburg was doubly welcome, and we drove down there last Friday – It’s as beautiful as ever – and we walked for miles over the mountains amongst the pine woods – we really didn’t do much else and the weather was really quite nice –

  We drove back yesterday without rushing it and went through Brunswick and saw what it is like – Tom had been there before the war; it has been very bashed about and some really beautiful churches and old buildings have been extremely badly damaged – We stopped for lunch south of Lüneburg on a heath – lovely heather which isn’t quite the same as ours – Eventually we had tea in the Atlantic at Hamburg, and arrived here at about 6.45, not wanting to be back at all!

  I haven’t signed on for the WRNS. Most of the Wrens will have gone from here after the end of the month, and, even if they accepted my volunteering it would probably mean going home to H.Q. – I couldn’t be a signal officer, that’s one thing certain – I think I have done right – life in the service I should think would be rather pointless in peacetime – I am thinking of applying to take domestic science course lasting a month in October, which can be taken out here – You take that as the main subject with 2 auxiliaries such as art history, economics etc …

  Lots of love,

  Sheila

  My poor mother, the scars of that accident were to remain with her physically – her face was badly cut – and mentally as, in later years, she would blame my father for ruining her face and her teeth. Meanwhile, the Nuremburg trials are nearing the end, and Tom, who is being demobbed shortly, has managed to get a new job back in England:

  Kiel

  5.10.46

  My dear Ma –

  … Did I tell you about Tom’s good job? The powers that be are trying to get him to stop on in the Navy as they say his work here is so important. It is, of course, but there’s not much future for an RNVR sub if the Navy doesn’t promise a permanent commission. He leaves here in a week; I shall miss him tremendously.

  The last photos of Sheila before the car crash.

  After the crash: ‘Wounded warriors – unfortunately the printer has wiped out my white bandages, thinking they were a flaw in the negative. But Tom has a beautiful black eye and bump on his forehead.’

  The results of the Nuremberg trials gave rise to a few precautions here in case there was any trouble from the ex. German Navy, who were very fond of Doenitz and Raeder14 – we were all CB’d [confined to barracks] from Sunday to Tuesday and everyone rushed about with rifles. The ships here all sent to action stations in the harbour. In fact there was more Flap than that about it all! However, nothing at all happened.

  We met a very interesting man here last week – an American scientist from California University – we had him to dinner in our mess and took him on to see ‘Theirs is the Plan’ a very shocking film. We had a visit from the 1st officer from Hamburg yesterday, she’s rather the schoolmarm type – I went to an excellent concert with Tom in the evening, a bass from Berlin – The place was packed with most enthusiastic Germans, and he encored and encored at the end. We went on to the Yacht Club for dinner and got muddled up with a crowd of yacht crews, ending by singing ‘Viola Viola’ in company at the band stand. All very raucous and great fun. Tom hates dancing, but when he actually does it, gets on quite well and enjoys himself!

  On Thursday we went to the Opera ‘Falstaff’ by Verdi, an opera I didn’t know existed – it was excellent. The story of the merry wives of Windsor and so funny. Costumes and decor were very good too. Today we are going over to Travemünde to a party given to one of our young Lieutenants being demobbed, who is very keen on a German girl there. The party is being given by Germans, I wonder what time we shall get back – Tom went over last week, and returned at 6 am!!

  I do hope you are well – It looks as if I shall be here for another month at least.

  Heaps of love,

  Sheila

  Tom left Germany on 15 October, travelling by car to Cuxhaven, but before leaving he gave a ‘bumper party in his office for all his employees, both English and German and what a collection appeared – The 3 officers themselves, 2 marine drivers, German drivers, German friends and so on – It really went off very well – only one of the marines got really tiddly – Tom and Jack gave a combined farewell drinks party on Monday. It is strange for me to be here without Tom as we have done everything together for the past 3 months. He starts his new job in London straight away.’

  Sheila then goes on a three-week domestic science course at Bad Oeynhausen, to prepare her for the real world. She is planning to be back in England towards the end of November. On 25 October, she writes:

  I’m enjoying the course very much. Tho’ a lot of the stuff I already know – I would be quite content to cook and dressmake all the time. However, one picks up quite useful hints on washing, ironing, cleaning and valeting, as with a how to repair fuses and tap washers etc. – we spent one morning on those horrid treadle sewing machines – so difficult to make them work – and I believe we have to make ourselves a garment or leave the place!

  I have cooked scones, shortbreads, a sponge cake and helped in preparing lunch of roast mutton and 2 veg, trifle and coffee – the shortbreads were a howling success – we cook entirely with butter as we can’t get anything else!!

  It is not until 30 November that she rather archly admits to her engagement. Many of the details she gives of Tom’s life are wrong – not much of a surprise with hindsight:

  Domestic Science Centre

  Bad Oeynhausen

  30.10.46

  My dear Ma

  … You will probably be surprised to hear that I am contemplating matrimony – the lucky man being Tom Unwin – As you know, he has returned to UK and is in London now, with his new job – we have been thinking of this for some time now, but had to wait and see whether he got the job or not, and various other considerations. Well now, the thing is to get somewhere to live in or near London – and we’re afraid it will be terribly expensive – a small service flat in Town would be the answer, in which case I should probably get a part time job to keep me occupied as you know I hate London! If on the other hand we could get a small flat or house just outside London – it might not be so dear, and I should then have to stay at home and look after it – Tom’s job earns him £600 a year, which I think is very good to begin with – It is with a branch of the N.F.U. [National Famers Union] and will probably move abroad in the summer of next year – So we don’t want to get any furniture.

  I think you will like your future son-in-law, tho’ you may find him a trifle unorthodox – He is 3 years younger than I am – tall, fair, gray-eyed and well built. He is Czech by birth, and lived in Prague till 1939 when he came to England to study – now being naturalised. Subsequently, his mother and young brother, Alec, came over and settled in Wells, Somerset. His mother is a widow, her husband having been in the Czech Diplomatic Service, I think and who died of appendicitis when Tom was 9 – Of course, they have lost almost everything. They have much property in Czechoslovakia, but of course
that is all Russian now.

  As for Tom – he is an extremely clever linguist – and no one could tell he wasn’t English, as he gabbles away faster than we normally talk. His German is the same – He is far-seeing politically, and deeply interested in world affairs, and – a Socialist!! A terrific peace-lover – almost to being a conscientious objector! He is brilliant and almost fanatical in his views and ideals, and everyone who knows him well says they think he will go far. I hope he will. He loves music and the country and has had to do everything for his mother and brother since they came over here. Alec is now studying forestry at a school in the south. They have a stepbrother in Canada.

  I’m sure you will find him most loveable and easy to get on with – He’s sweet with children and when in Travemünde in 1945, held classes for German children to teach them English under the name of Uncle Tom – This was stopped by the N.O.I.C. as being unsuitable (!)

  He is temperamental and often gets fits of depression regarding the state of the world – But not the sort of temperament that flings frying pans about!