Judith Kerr - When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit

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Partly autobiographical, this is first of the internationally acclaimed trilogy by Judith Kerr telling the unforgettable story of a Jewish family fleeing from Germany at the start of the Second World WarSuppose your country began to change. Suppose that without your noticing, it became dangerous for some people to live in Germany any longer. Suppose you found, to your complete surprise, that your own father was one of those people.That is what happened to Anna in 1933. She was nine years old when it began, too busy with her schoolwork and toboganning to take much notice of political posters, but out of them glared the face of Adolf Hitler, the man who would soon change the whole of Europe – starting with her own small life.Anna suddenly found things moving too fast for her to understand. One day, her father was unaccountably missing. Then she herself and her brother Max were being rushed by their mother, in alarming secrecy, away from everything they knew – home and schoolmates and well-loved toys – right out of Germany…

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First published in Great Britain by William Collins and Sons and Co. Ltd in 1971

This edition published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2017

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd,

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Text and illustrations copyright © Kerr-Kneale Productions Ltd 1971

Note from the author copyright © Judith Kerr 2008

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2017

Cover illustration © Judith Kerr 2017

Judith Kerr asserts the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007274772

Ebook Edition © 2017 ISBN: 9780007380466

Version: 2017-06-15

For my parents

Julia and Alfred Kerr

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright First published in Great Britain by William Collins and Sons and Co. Ltd in 1971 This edition published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2017 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is www.harpercollins.co.uk Text and illustrations copyright © Kerr-Kneale Productions Ltd 1971 Note from the author copyright © Judith Kerr 2008 Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2017 Cover illustration © Judith Kerr 2017 Judith Kerr asserts the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780007274772 Ebook Edition © 2017 ISBN: 9780007380466 Version: 2017-06-15

Dedication For my parents Julia and Alfred Kerr

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Note from the Author

Keep Reading

About the Author

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Anna was walking home from school with Elsbeth, a girl in her class. A lot of snow had fallen in Berlin that winter. It did not melt, so the street cleaners had swept it to the edge of the pavement, and there it had lain for weeks in sad, greying heaps. Now, in February, the snow had turned into slush and there were puddles everywhere. Anna and Elsbeth skipped over them in their lace-up boots.

They both wore thick coats and woollen caps which kept their ears warm, and Anna had a muffler as well. She was nine but small for her age and the ends of the muffler hung down almost to her knees. It also covered up her mouth and nose, so the only parts of her that showed were her green eyes and a tuft of dark hair. She had been hurrying because she wanted to buy some crayons at the paper shop and it was nearly time for lunch. But now she was so out of breath that she was glad when Elsbeth stopped to look at a large red poster.

‘It’s another picture of that man,’ said Elsbeth. ‘My little sister saw one yesterday and thought it was Charlie Chaplin.’

Anna looked at the staring eyes, the grim expression. She said, ‘It’s not a bit like Charlie Chaplin except for the moustache.’

They spelled out the name under the photograph.

Adolf Hitler .

‘He wants everybody to vote for him in the elections and then he’s going to stop the Jews,’ said Elsbeth. ‘Do you think he’s going to stop Rachel Lowenstein?’

‘Nobody can stop Rachel Lowenstein,’ said Anna. ‘She’s form captain. Perhaps he’ll stop me. I’m Jewish too.’

‘You’re not!’

‘I am! My father was talking to us about it only last week. He said we were Jews and no matter what happened my brother and I must never forget it.’

‘But you don’t go to a special church on Saturdays like Rachel Lowenstein.’

‘That’s because we’re not religious. We don’t go to church at all.’

‘I wish my father wasn’t religious,’ said Elsbeth. ‘We have to go every Sunday and I get cramp in my seat.’ She looked at Anna curiously. ‘I thought Jews were supposed to have bent noses, but your nose is quite ordinary. Has your brother got a bent nose?’

‘No,’ said Anna. ‘The only person in our house with a bent nose is Bertha the maid, and hers only got like that because she broke it falling off a tram.’

Elsbeth was getting annoyed. ‘Well then,’ she said, ‘if you look the same as everyone else and you don’t go to a special church, how do you know you are Jewish? How can you be sure?’

There was a pause.

‘I suppose …’ said Anna, ‘I suppose it’s because my mother and father are Jews, and I suppose their mothers and fathers were too. I never thought about it much until Papa started talking about it last week.’

‘Well, I think it’s silly!’ said Elsbeth. ‘It’s silly about Adolf Hitler and people being Jews and everything!’ She started to run and Anna followed her.

They did not stop until they reached the paper shop. There was someone talking to the man at the counter and Anna’s heart sank as she recognised Fräulein Lambeck who lived nearby. Fräulein Lambeck was making a face like a sheep and saying, ‘Terrible times! Terrible times!’ Each time she said ‘terrible times’ she shook her head and her earrings wobbled.

The paper shop man said, ‘1931 was bad enough, 1932 was worse, but mark my words, 1933 will be worst of all.’ Then he saw Anna and Elsbeth and said, ‘What can I do for you, my dears?’

Anna was just going to tell him that she wanted to buy some crayons when Fräulein Lambeck spied her.

‘It’s little Anna!’ cried Fräulein Lambeck. ‘How are you, little Anna? And how is your dear father? Such a wonderful man! I read every word he writes. I’ve got all his books and I always listen to him on the radio. But he hasn’t written anything in the paper this week – I do hope he’s quite well. Perhaps he’s lecturing somewhere. Oh, we do need him in these terrible, terrible times!’

Anna waited until Fräulein Lambeck had finished. Then she said, ‘He’s got ’flu.’

This provoked another outburst. You would have thought that Fräulein Lambeck’s nearest and dearest were lying at death’s door. She shook her head until the earrings rattled. She suggested remedies. She recommended doctors. She would not stop talking until Anna had promised to give her father Fräulein Lambeck’s best wishes for a speedy recovery. And then she turned back in the doorway and said, ‘Don’t say best wishes from Fräulein Lambeck, little Anna – just say from an admirer!’ – before she finally swept out.

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