We have been collecting stories about people who participated in the Mass Flight of 1944 as part of a campaign to support the Mass Flight memorial in Pärnu. Here we bring you the story of Rory Truupold.

My father was an Estonian refugee from the Second World War — and a mountain climber. I never understood the more profound implications of who he was and what he did when I was growing up, but in the last years of his life when he finally opened up about his family’s history, I finally understood why he was the way he was. 

I did a few climbs with him at his indoor climbing gym in Sydney, and one day, I found myself at the top of the rather high climbing gym wall, having an epiphany about what makes my father tick. I discovered that to be a climber, you can only focus on your next move. You can’t look down or think about what you’ve left behind. The only thing that counts is what you do next. There’s no time to consider the past or look forward to the future. There’s only what you do next.

It makes sense now, although it didn’t when I was a kid, wanting a “normal” Dad at sports events cheering me on from the sidelines rather than the quiet man anonymously wandering around picking up other people’s rubbish. He was always content and supportive of what I was doing but remained unmoved by whether or not I was a winner or a loser. It also explains why you would never hear him say a bad word or critical remark about anyone, despite how deserving of scorn the rest of us may have thought they were. The only thing that ever seemed to matter was what you did next.

When I was in my early 20s, he explained, with some coaxing, that our original Estonian family name ‘Truupold’ had previously been a Germanic name ‘Treufeldt’ which translated in English to ‘Faithfield’ and may explain why many of my friends know me as Rory Faithfield.

He survived things that most of us will never have to face. His mother, my beautiful, brave, and pioneering Estonian Grandmother Helmi — a single mother at the time — fled south from their homeland in Tallinn as the Russian Red Army approached during the Second World War. They left on the night of Wednesday, 20 September, and the Red Army invaded Tallinn on Friday, 22 September 1944. My father was 16 years old.

As refugees living in Germany, they had several narrow escapes, miraculously boarding a train out of Dresden the night the British bombers came with their infamous firestorm. And, the day he went to the movies with his friend in the city of Ulm, 70 years ago, on the 17th of December 1944 — the day of its heaviest air raid.

He was a quiet, modest man who silently carried the scars, grief and knowledge of what happened to his Estonian family—both the ones who left and the ones who remained. He introduced me to the idea of doing things differently. Many kids I went to school with played rugby and cricket and went surfing. I played soccer and basketball and went skiing. He’d take us on annual family skiing holidays to the Snowy Mountains, where my parents first met on the slopes of Thredbo. He wouldn’t just take us on the usual adrenaline-inducing downhill skiing but preferred the solitary cross-country variety of exploration. He took us where no one could see whether you looked cool.

My father also introduced me to commitment — Living a life that showed me how to reach a little higher. He only ever said good things about others, which led me to conclude that it is impossible to fight the monster and not become it and that the only thing that matters is what you do next.

Initially written by Rory Truupold titled as “Eulogy – For My Father“’“; In Memory of Enn Truupold (23/6/1928 – 4/12/2014). EDITED & UPDATED 15 May 2024.

This story was collected as part of a campaign in support of the Mass Flight Memorial. If you have a story to share about your family’s mass flight experience, please write to us at news@eesti.org.au

We have been collecting stories about people who participated in the Mass Flight of 1944 as part of a campaign to support the Mass Flight memorial in Pärnu. Here we bring you the story of Saima Riner in English and Estonian.

In the Mass Flight of 1944, about 30,000 people escaped to Sweden and about 33,000 to Germany, according to the Estonian War Museum. The Estonian Archives in Australia (EAA) shares that about 6,000 Estonians ended up in Australia. EAA‘s digital exhibition raises the question – do you know how you ended up in Australia? 

There are not so many among us anymore who can share their stories. Please reach out to them, so we can make our Australian collection of stories – 1944 to 2024. Below are some questions you can ask.

1. Milline oli elu Eestis, mis jäi maha? / What was life like in Estonia and what was left behind?
2. Kuidas läks põgenemine? / How did the escape go?
3. Kuidas algas uus elu Austraalias? / How did the new life in Australia begin?

On 5 May 2024, Sirje Jõgi-Rivers asked Saima Riner, aged 92, for her story.

Saima lived with her mother, father, and sister Maila in Nõmme, at 2 Metsa Street (previously Kahro House), where the Nõmme House Owners’ Bank, directed by her father Karl Aleksander Nõmmisto, was located.

Her mother, Emma Elisabeth, supported her husband’s social activities, such as the Children’s Protection Association and the Tennis Club.

Both parents were born in 1902 and were on the deportation list in 1940, but managed to escape deportation with the help of good people. On September 21, 1944, with the help of friends, the family made their way to Tallinn harbor, where they were allowed onto the last convoy of ships without written permits.

“Among the convoy was the ship Moero, marked with a red cross, which was torpedoed and sank within fifteen minutes. Also in the convoy was Lapland, an old cargo ship converted to transport people, from which we departed our homeland. The last image of the harbour, like a sea of fire, left the feeling that the whole of Tallinn was burning. When Moero sank, our Lapland also stopped to save whoever could be saved. As a 12-year-old girl, that image was very shocking to me, those poor half-drowned people, some so young…”

The ship reached Danzig, then under German occupation, from where we were sent by train to a transit camp near Berlin, then directed to where labor was needed. Our family was sent to Thuringia, near Jena, where my father was assigned to make optical lenses in a factory.

After the end of the war, when the division of lands came, Thuringia went to the Russians, and we had to flee again. This time we were helped by Americans with their large trucks and then by train in cattle wagons. Later, the DPs, displaced persons, were gathered into camps from where, about four years later, Western countries organised workforces for themselves.

On April 3, 1949, the ship arrived in Australia at Fremantle, and on April 7, Melbourne. The Estonian Assistance Committee in Australia guaranteed that the family would not be a burden on the Australian state but would find work themselves, so they did not come with work contracts but with a “landing permit”.

In the premises of the Swedish Church in Melbourne, an Estonian congregation operated, pastor Stockholm invited the then 17-year-old Saima to the congregation. Saima became the church organist, a position she held for over 50 years. A new life in a new country had begun.

Today, Saima has two sons, four grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren in Australia. Her sister Maila has a total of 9 great-grandchildren. Their parents are buried in Falkner Cemetery.

In addition to the burning of Tallinn harbour and the rescue of the wounded from Moero at sea, the departure from her Nõmme home is forever on her mind – leaving behind her grandmother and dog Bella, as well as other relatives, and all the joys and sorrows of childhood with the Nõmme pine forest.

Eesti keeles

Saima elas ema, isa, ja õe Mailaga Nõmmes, Metsa tanav 2, eelnevalt Kahro Majas, kuna samas asus Nõmme Majaomanike Pank mille direktor isa Karl Aleksander Nõmmisto oli.

Ema Emma Elisabeth kodune toetades abikaasa positsioonist tulenevaid seltskondlikke ettevõtmisi nagu Lastekaitse Ühing, Tennisklubi jne.

Mõlemad olid sündinud aastal 1902, olid aastal 1940 küüditamise nimekirjas kuid pääsesid heade inimeste abil küüditamise eest varjule. 21. Sept. 1944 sai perekond sõprade abiga Tallinna sadamasse, kus viimase konvoi laevadele inimesi lasti ilma kirjalike lubadeta.

“Selles konvois olid ka punaseristi laev Moero, mis tee peal torpeedoga hävitati ja mis põhja läks veerand tunni jooksul. Samuti oli konvois Lapland, vana kaubalaev ümber tehtud inimeste vedamiseks, kus ka meie oma sünnimaalt lahkusime. Viimane mälupilt sadama poole — see oli nagu tulemeri, jättis tunde, nagu terve Tallinn oleks põlenud. Kui Moero põhja läks, jäi ka meie Lapland seisma, et päästa keda veel päästa sai. See pilt minul kui 12 aastasel tüdrukul oli väga vapustav, need vaesed pool uppunud inimesed, mõned noorukesed….”

Laev jõudis Danzigi, tookordne sakslaste okupeeritud ala, kust meid rongiga edasi saadeti Berliini ligidale läbikäigu laagrisse, kust siis suunati sinna, kus tööjõudu vaja. Meie pere saadeti Thüringeni, Jena ligidal, kus isa vabrikus pikksilmaklaase määrati.

Pärast sõja lõppu kui maade jagamine tuli, sai Thüringen venelastele ja meie pidime uuesti põgenema. Seekord aitasid meid ameeriklased oma suurte veoautodega ja edasi rongiga loomavagunites. Siis koondati ka DP’d, displaced persons, laagritesse kust siis umbes neli aastat hiljem lääneriigid endale tööjõudu organiseeris.”

3. aprillil 1949 jõudis laev Austraaliasse Freemantle’sse ja 7. aprillil Melbourne’i. Eesti Abistamise Komitee Austraalias garanteeris et pere jai ja Austraalia riigile koormaks vaid leiab ise töö, nii ei tulnud mitte töölepinguga vaid perel oli “landing permit”.

Melbourne’i Rootsi Kiriku ruumides tegutses Eesti kogudus, mille pastor Stockholm soovis 17 aastane Saimat kogudusse. Saimast sai koguduse organist, mis ametit ta pidas üle 50 aastat. Uus elu uuel maal oli alanud.

Tänaseks on Saimal Austraalias kaks poega, neli lapselast ja kaks lapse-lapse- last. Õde Mailal on kokku 9 lapse-lapse- last. Vanemad on maetud Falkneri kalmistule.

Lisaks Tallinna sadama põlemisele ning Moero vigaste päästmisele merest, on silme ees alatiseks ka Nõmme kodust lahkumine – jäid maha vanaema ja koer, ning teisi sugulasi, ja kõik lapsepõlve rõõmud ja mured koos Nõmme männimetsaga.

This story was collected as part of a campaign in support of the Mass Flight Memorial – a worldwide Estonian diaspora project. If you, or someone you know, have a story to share about the mass flight experience, please write to us at news@eesti.org.au