Remembering Holocaust survivor Harry Spiro, whose family was his victory over the Nazis

To Harry, he was simply an ordinary man. A son to Lazer and Tamma, an older brother to his younger sister Gita, born in Piotrków Trybunalski in 1929 with a loving Jewish family.

Harry often spoke warmly about his childhood. Fridays were his favourite day of the week: the rush before Shabbat, accompanying his father to the mikveh, and evenings spent in synagogue before gathering around the family table. He would smile as he recalled how his father always seemed to find someone in need of a meal to bring home for Shabbat dinner.

That happy childhood was shattered by the Nazi invasion of Poland. Harry watched German tanks roll through the streets outside his home before the restrictions on Jewish life quickly followed: expulsion from school, the yellow star, forced labour, and eventually confinement inside the Piotrków ghetto, the first established by the Nazis in occupied Poland.

Still just a boy, Harry tried to help his family survive. He would sneak out of the ghetto searching for food and lied about his age to work in a nearby glass factory.

Then came the liquidation of the ghetto.

All those who worked in the factories were ordered by the SS to leave, everyone else to remain in their houses. Harry refused to leave his family, terrified they would be separated. But his mother forced him out into the street, believing it was his only chance to survive. Her final words to him were: “Hopefully one of us will survive.”

That was the last time Harry saw his mother, father and little sister. They were deported to Treblinka extermination camp and murdered on arrival. Harry was left alone.

He would go on to survive forced labour camps, Buchenwald concentration camp and a death march to Terezín, where he was liberated at the age of 15.

After the war, Harry came to Britain as one of “The Boys” - child Holocaust survivors brought to Windermere in the Lake District. Whenever he spoke about Windermere, his face would light up. “I had a clean sheet to sleep on,” he would say. “Soap and water to wash yourself. It was a different world.”

Harry rebuilt his life in Britain, marrying Pauline, raising a family and running his own business. In later years, he dedicated himself to sharing his testimony with tens of thousands of young people across the UK through the Holocaust Educational Trust.

I will never forget hearing Harry speak at our Ambassador Conference in 2017. As he shared his testimony, the room sat in complete silence, hanging on his every word. Then Harry looked out at the audience and said: “Now that I have my family, I can say: Hitler, you didn’t win, I won.”

For Harry, family was his victory over the Nazis and their collaborators. He adored Pauline, their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and often said that revenge was not the answer - family and hard work were.

What always struck me was that, despite everything he endured, Harry remained one of the gentlest and kindest people you could ever hope to meet. Softly spoken and deeply humble, he had a remarkable ability to connect with everyone, from students and teachers to MPs and footballers.

Hearing Harry speak was always heartbreaking because, as he told his story, you could still glimpse the young boy forced to confront the very worst of humanity. Yet he dedicated his life to ensuring others would learn from it.

Harry left a lasting impression on everyone he met. I will miss him deeply.

Karen Pollock CBE is Chief Executive of the Holocaust Educational Trust