Chapter VI. London: The End (1938-1939)

The Nazi invasion of Austria, which took place on March 11, 1938, was the signal for Freud's leaving his home for a foreign land, thus following the road his ancestors had so often wearily trod. But this time it was to a land where he was more welcome than in any other. On many occasions in his life he had debated taking such a step, and on many others he had been invited to do so. But something deep in his nature had always striven against such a decision and even at this final and critical moment he was still most unwilling to contemplate it.

Knowing how strong was this reluctance, and how often in the last few years he had expressed his determination to stay in Vienna to the end, I was not very hopeful about the outcome. But a couple of days after the invasion I had a telephone talk with Dorothy Burlingham, who was by now almost one of the Freud family, and three with Marie Bonaparte in Paris, so I decided to make a final effort to persuade Freud to change his mind. There were no aeroplanes flying to Vienna just then, but I got one on March 15 as far as Prague and there found a small monoplane that completed the journey. The sight on arriving was depressing enough. The airfield was stacked with German military planes and the air was full of them assiduously intimidating the Viennese. The streets were full of roaring tanks and also of roaring people with their shouts of Heil Hitler, but it was easy to see that most of these were imported Germans from the trainloads Hitler had sent in for the purpose. After calling at my sister-in-law's where Anna Freud got into touch with me I went first, on her advice, to the premises of the Verlag where we hoped that my asserting its international character might be of use. The stairs and rooms were occupied by villainous-looking youths armed with daggers and pistols, Martin Freud was sitting in a corner under arrest, and the Nazi ‘authorities’ were engaged in counting the petty cash in a drawer. As soon as I spoke I was al