CHILDREN DURING WWII - FINLAND
WRITTEN MEMORIES by Anita (from Helsinki)
"FINNISH WARCHILD IN SWEDEN"
 
People walking down into a bombshelter in Helsinki during the Winter War 1939-40


”Born 1933 so I have memories from both the Winter War, 30 November, 1939 – 12 March, 1940; and the so-called Continuation War 29 June, 1941 – 19 September, 1944. Remember in 1939 that there was an air raid and we had to go down into our (communal) laundry room. It had been reinforced with logs and boards in the walls and the ceiling; mostly fragment protection – it would never stand a direct hit to the building. All the adults were upset and talked about the Russians, Karelia and Vipoori. Eventually we were evacuated, due to that we lived in central Helsink . “We” being my mother, my sister who was then 3 years old, and I.
One night, in a blacked-out taxi, we went to Salo where we could stay with my maternal aunt and uncle. That winter was dreadfully cold and we cried whenever we needed to go out – it hurt everywhere. We were at home in Helsinki a while but were evacuated again, this time to Kauniainen (which now belongs to Helsinki). There we stay at a “folk college” with Jahvetti and his family. During the war, Jahvetti was a very well-known voice heard on the radio every afternoon at a certain time. The Finnish people recognized his voice and know that what he says is true. Otherwise there was much misleading propaganda on the radio.

Radio report about the bombing of Helsinki November 30th 1939

During this time my father was drafted into the Helsinki fire department. My parents were bi-lingual but we spoke mostly Finnish and when I was 7 years old I started at a Finnish folk school (Tehtaankadun Kansakoulu). At the folk college where we were staying while evacuated were also the children who were the sickest from the children’s hospitals in Helsinki. One could often see little white coffins in the cellar.

Tehtaankadun Kansakoulu - First Grade (Anita is encircled)


Then the Continuation War started, 29 June, 1941. My father was drafted again. We were still living in Helsinki. Sitting in the laundry room again. Always had a bag packed and slept with our clothes on so as to get ourselves quickly to the air raid shelter when the sirens were heard. Sometimes we woke up first at the “danger past” signal.
One night when we came up from the laundry room our windows were gone, broken, in pieces. Had grown a little orange tree from a pit. It had gone out the window and fallen two stories into the snow. I wanted to go out and bring in my orange tree but Mamma said it had probably died in the snow. I was so angry at the Russians!
Often, after a bomb night, when we go out we can see halves of buildings. One could see directly in to people’s flats, the other half of the buildings lay in pieces in the street. There was something red in the snow – I think it’s blood but Mamma said it’s lingonberry jam?! The shops had wide white strips pasted over their windows against the blast waves. Some were quite artistic, like spiders webs.

Results of the Russian bombardment of Helsinki (newspaper picture 1941?)

The bombardment intensified and it was decided that my sister and I are to be sent to something called Sweden. We were never asked – one never spoke of it – to spare the children? One day in February our bags were packed. Mamma (and Pappa?) took us to the Post Office’s bomb shelter where there were lots of children already. Then we did not see our parents until a year and a half later, in August of 43. The train we rode was full of children with tags round their necks. It was crowded. We slept on net shelves or pieces of sheetrock laid down between the wooden benches.

Finnish children on a train to Sweden 1941

Sometimes the train stood still a long time, somewhere. The train was blacked-out and we were absolutely not to pull at the curtains because then the Russians would see the light and could bomb us. We stood still for several hours outside Oulu. When the train started up I was naughty and peeped carefully out through a crack between the curtains. The whole town of Oulu was ablaze! One day we got pea soup on the train. One girl accidentally spilt her plate of soup on her dress, but it was green so it didn’t show much!

The bombardment of Oulu 1941?

The train stopped at Tornio. Soldiers came and wrapped us in military furs and carried us over the border to Sweden. To Haparanda. On the Swedish train we got to lie in real beds with real sheets. We got hot milk and buns to eat. The train continued to Boden where we were unloaded. We were lodged in a school? Lots of beds in a hall. There were two us in each bed, we lay foot-to-foot. Sometimes they pulled us up from bed while we were sleeping so they could vaccinate us. They’d poke us in the back and it hurt terribly. We were also “deloused” there. Where my bag has gone is anyone’s guess. One day we were put on a train again. We arrived in Sundsvall February 2nd, ’42 .

Finnish children passing the border between Finland and Sweden (Torni/Haparanda)

Mamma had said I was to obey and do what the grown ups tell me and not to cry. That I should be glad to get to go to Sweden. We were lined up at the station in front of a crowd of adults who look at us. My sister was 6 years old, pretty, with dark, curly hair. I was 8 ½ years old myself, thin as a rake and with straight, rat-coloured hair. Suddenly a lady and a man came over and took my sister away. According to the information from the National Archives, I have (since) read that I was supposed to go with these people. There were a few of us left at the station. Eventually a bus arrived and took us leftovers to Kubikenborg’s orphanage outside Sundsvall . No idea where my sister is, nor where I am, myself.

Finnish war children at an orphanage 1941


Contracted chicken pox during my time at the orphanage. Many of the children there had caught it and the sick ward was crowded. We big children helped to comfort the smallest ones. One day when I was well again the radio played (or was it a gramophone?) the song “Jo Karjalan kunnailla lehtii puu…” Can’t understand why I crept under a table and cried. One mustn’t cry in Sweden!
April 17th 1942 I was suddenly with a family. A man who worked at a bank, a lady who is a teacher and their daughter who is 3 years older than I. I still spoke Finnish but must have picked up a little Swedish from my parents as I can’t remember it being difficult for me to learn Swedish.
The first day with my “war family” Gun (their daughter) and I went to town, to Sundsvall. We went to a shop where there were lots of sweets, but at that time I didn’t know what they were! Got to point at what I wanted and then I saw some beautiful, colourful little square packets that I wanted. They were liquorice caramels. That evening I got a big serving of manna porridge. I vomited all night, most likely due to that it was unusual and proper food which I’d not eaten in a long time.

Anita and her "war sister" Gun 1944

Slept in a small, green, pull-out child’s bed in a passageway between the dining room and the kitchen. I’m so envious of all those who remember so much and so in detail of their time in Sweden! I must have repressed lots of it. Think I started school in the autumn. All my classmates were very nice – it wasn’t so common yet to have a war child in ones class. Met my sister a few times during those 18 months. Received a few letters from Mamma. They were severely censored; either great bits were crossed out with black, or large pieces were cut out.
The 15th of August, ’43 we were to return to Helsinki. We were flown from Stockholm to Helsinki. We flew through huge air pockets on that flight and many of the children were sick. We arrived at a Helsinki still marked by the war but it was lovely to be home again. Our parents felt like strangers. We started going to school, now at a Swedish school. My sister had completely forgotten her Finnish, but I had no problem with it.
Then the bombing started again. We sat in the laundry room again. There were hits round our building but our building managed to escape unscathed. Although windows were something we’d not had in a long while. Just sheetrock at the windows. It’s not worth putting up real windows. In the shelter we sat and anxiously watched the clock. If the air raid alarm was over by midnight we would only be off school an hour or so. If it lasts until after midnight, we would have all the morning off.
We often had to queue for potatoes, bread, etc. And then it ran out just as it was our turn. When any of us had a birthday Mamma took milk fat and the milk ration card to the Fazer shop in Glogatan. She could then buy a cake which we divided into 4 pieces and literally gobbled up!
The bombardment became worse and worse. One night was really ghastly and when the “danger over” signal was heard we decided to go to the rock shelter close by. It was so packed with people that we couldn’t get in and had to hurry back to our laundry room.

Heavy bombardment of Helsinki 1943

Once again our parents decided that we were to go to Sweden. In February of ’44 we embarked upon the same long journey by train from Helsinki by way of Tornio and Haparanda. This time we landed in quarantine in Gävle. February 21st we arrived in Sundsvall again, at our “old” war families. My war parents had moved to a larger flat and I got my own room there. Started at the community girls’ school where “my auntie” taught. Can’t remember either any joy or sorrow about this trip #2. It was simply something one had to do. Must have repressed all sorts of feelings. Both my war parents worked. Gun was 3 years older than I; at that age the difference was enormous. Mostly stayed at home in the kitchen with the maid who was very sweet to me. But my time with my war parents was not in any way bad, the way it was for many others, as we’ve read. In the summer my war family went on holiday and I was sent to a playmate’s family. Peace came to Finland September 19th, 1944. We did not go home to Helsinki until June 11th, 1945. Why?

Arcturus
Finnish war children on their way home at Arcturus


This time the journey home went via Stockholm by boat – with the well-known old Arcturus. It’s crowded again, and high, rough seas so many children were sick and vomiting. Our parents and my sister feel even stranger than previously but in spite of that it is so nice to be home again. Helsinki is still marked by the war, bombed to bits and food is hard to come by. Much is still rationed. It doesn’t matter. Material possessions are not important. Hoping we will once again be a “normal” family. But we never do. Something has been broken which can never be fixed.
It is so hard to understand what it could be, but I think one felt betrayed. Have read in books that it was mainly children from families with many children, or with parents either sick or poor or dead who were first allowed to go to Sweden. My father was a civil servant, my mother a housewife and we were relatively well off. Our parents died many years ago so I can no longer ask them. There is so much – why? – that has come up since I got contact with the Finnish War Child Association. Have no memories of celebrating birthdays or Christmas in Sweden. Neither any memory of toys, and not one single photograph. Nearly 3 years of my childhood was spent in Sweden. As I recall, our trips to Sweden were never discussed at home with my parents. Perhaps they also felt bad, for sending us away?
I can anyway feel that I had greater security at home; I knew where my parents were and knew if our building remained standing, etc. Although I definitely had nothing to complain about in Sweden. But that is what the War Child Society is working towards: to not separate families – that it is better to stay together no matter what the circumstances round about are.
Have lived in Sweden since 1954. The feeling of rootlessness remains with me as it does with many other “war children”.

Here ends Anitas story!

Here you can find a painting Anita did illustrating her feelings about being a war child: Anitas painting