Miraculously, my father survived starvation and forced marches while in labour camps and my mother and I survived the Budapest ghetto to come to England in 1947. My father died in 1955, aged 45, and my mother, her life embittered by her experience, died last year.
We were the lucky ones. My maternal grandfather was taken by the Gestapo from a bus and never heard of again, and an uncle was tortured and died in a concentration camp.
In spite of my own peaceful and tranquil life, the Holocaust has hung like a cloud over my life, knowing that it destroyed my parents' lives and their world.
How can I say 'never again' when the likes of David Irving deny that it ever happened and someone such as Andrew Neil offers him a five-figure fee and all the publicity he could ever have dreamt of?
Surely, there is some way to stop this diabolical nonsense - those millions who starved and toiled and died, tortured and in filth, deserve that little from us - don't they?
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