Two wailing children - two worlds apart.

I was trying to orientate myself in the crowded central train station of Stuttgart. There I was after arriving on a flight from London's Stanstead airport, on my way to meet my father at one of Karlsruhe's Jewish cemeteries.

Across the bench was this mother with a little daughter, maybe 3 years old, who was waiting for the same train as me. It so happened that when we boarded the train, they chose to occupy the seats across the aisle, a fact that made me more at ease, not having to endure the stares and the renewed feelings felt as an ultra-orthodox Jew in a pure Arian environment.

Soon the last shrill sound of the conductor was heard, at which point the little girl realised that her favourite Winnie the Pooh, with a little zipper on his back was missing his baby teddy bear. She started becoming agitated, so her mother warned her to stay put whilst she was going to check it out on the platform. As the doors were already closing, there wasn't much she could do but to wait until the train started moving. When she returned to the child, her look betrayed the reality of the situation, at which point a huge hue and cry ensued, lasting a couple of minutes. I offered some of my home-baked biscuits, which served to divert her attention for a fleeting moment. Her mother was waiting for this opportunity and quickly presented her daughter with a treat: she will read to her from the animal story book.

That afternoon, the local workers union held a remembrance event for the Jewish children who were deported during the Nazi regime to Auschwitz via the Gurs detention camp. Special emphasis was placed on the fact that there was an overt partnership between the Wehrmacht and the then Deutsche Reichsbahn - without which the Nazis wouldn't have been able to carry out their devious plans.

Mr Jürgen Ziegler, chairman of the Retailers' Union of Baden related the following chilling story:

I was about 10 or 11 at the time, when strolling across the platform in the Karlsruhe train station I was called over by a little girl leaning out the window of a train. Her request: please take this coin and bring some drinking water for me and my crying brother. There were adults on the platform; still she chose me as the others were too preoccupied with some very serious business: they were saying goodbye to their children, wondering if they will ever see them again. Guarding the little kids was a couple of German SS'ers, one of whom happened to witness the exchange. He slapped the girls hand and ordered me not to return and to keep the money for myself. As I was retreating, I saw a man - most probably the father of the unfortunate children - fall on his knees in front of the devil and beg him "gnade, gnade" (lit. have mercy). The soldier lifted his pistol, shot the man in the head and ordered bystanders to chuck the lifeless corpse onto the train full of little children. The train's destination: the Gurs detention camp. From there the final stop was the infamous extermination camp Auschwitz. Out of over a hundred children, a minute number survived, only to return to a Karlsruhe bereft of their parents, their friends, devoid of the whole Jewish community."

The assembled, many of them in their late seventies, were by now wiping away tears. I sat there and wondered: if only these people would get up and share their experiences! What role did they play in the scenario that was just recounted, how did they behave in those dark times?

On my way back to London, it struck me how two seemingly unrelated cries of two children, one which I witnessed on the train and the other which was recounted on the same day - the contrast, the anguish, and the helplessness. Human brains would have to grow at least a couple of billion neurons to start comprehending the enormity of this paradox.

The event was well attended, during which Rev. Moshe Hayoun; the local Chazzan recited Tehillim and translated into German for visitors from amongst the local population and who was introduced by the head of the Jewish Community Mr David Seldner.

In what could be termed as a positive development, this event cemented the beginning of a link between several Jewish communities throughout Europe. All participants were unified in the aim to further the dissemination of Jewish values and enhancing the life of a fellow Jew.

For this occasion, I presented a special souvenir to the Karlsruhe Jewish Community: The Gurs Haggadah, which contains a facsimile of the hand-written Haggadah, by an inmate in the Gurs detention camp, southern France, which was then under the Vichy government's area of jurisdiction. Anyone familiar with the Karlsruhe community will know that over one hundred children were deported to this camp, from where they were subsequently sent on the death-trains to Auschwitz.