His main discomfort was that in the weeks he had been waiting to set sail for Palestine, there had been nothing to do. Together with some of the other young men, he had set up a makeshift football pitch where they exercised themselves when they were allowed ashore.

By that time, none of the transportees seriously expected to see Palestine. Their keep had been funded thus far by the Joint American Committee, but there was now doubt as to who might fund the remainder of the journey and above all else, the little ships were wanted for other purposes. Those with the necessary papers were told that they could go to the USA instead, but Felix did not mention whether any were able to take up the offer. They were, he put it angrily, stranded in thin air, and treated by the crew like "rightless emigrants".

His parents were still in Danzig waiting for their Brazilian visas, and Felix had written to them asking for his own visa to be forwarded to him in Kladovo so that he may go directly to Brazil, but the mail was being delayed and his parents had evidently not received the request.

For his part, Alex had described the freedom of London, including his social life. Felix responded by saying that he was surrounded by Austrian girls but he wasn't interested in any of them. He had resolved to wait until he was in Brazil, where he would start a completely new beginning. For the meanwhile, he would quickly set about writing for the London press, and hopefully raise some cash.

Alex never heard from Felix again. The personal letters from Yugoslavia are the only account there is.

In 2002, Alex and his wife Esther spent a long weekend in Vienna, where they visited the Jewish Museum. There they discovered that, in 1940, there had been a massacre of Jews in Kladovo and that Felix Nasimov was among them.

The originals of Felix's descriptive letters are now in the Jewish Museum in Vienna, and copies are now in our own Library at Grenfell Lodge.