A poignant personal letter has shed new light on the dramatic escape of playwright Sir Tom Stoppard's family from Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia in 1939, crediting the courageous intervention of another doctor's wife for their survival.
The Key Figures in a Life-or-Death Drama
The story, recounted in a letter regarding Stoppard's obituary, centres on the intertwined fates of two medical families in the town of Zlín. Sir Tom's father, Eugen Sträussler, and a colleague, Dr Alexander Gellert, both worked at the local Bata hospital under its director, Dr Bohuslav Albert.
Dr Albert had successfully secured positions for the two doctors at Bata company outposts in Nairobi and Singapore, and they had obtained permission from Britain to travel. However, their plans were thrown into chaos when Adolf Hitler's forces unexpectedly invaded Czechoslovakia in March 1939. Alexander Gellert was subjected to a gruelling 10-day interrogation by the Gestapo but failed to secure the vital exit permits.
A Mother's Daring Confrontation with the Gestapo
With the situation desperate, it was Nelly (Kornelia) Gellert, Alexander's wife, who took matters into her own hands. Described as very beautiful, she went alone to the Gestapo headquarters in Zlín. There, she confronted a solitary Gestapo officer and declared she would not leave until he issued the exit documents for both the Gellert and Sträussler families.
In a stunning move, she openly revealed she was Jewish. The officer reportedly refused to believe her, "because she was so beautiful". Captivated by her boldness, he ultimately relented. Nelly Gellert walked out with all the necessary permits, securing the safe passage of both families from imminent peril.
A Lasting Debt of Gratitude
The profound debt owed to Nelly Gellert was personally acknowledged by Tom Stoppard decades later. In 2019, following the death of Vera Gellert—born in Zlín just days before Stoppard himself—the playwright wrote a letter of condolence to her family.
He concluded it with a powerful testament: "Speaking of survival, you may know that I and [his brother] Peter and our parents owed our lives to Nelly in 1939, because she charmed or forced our exit permits from the Gestapo office. There is so much more to say!"
This intimate account, shared by Adrian Phillips, adds a deeply human layer to the history of one of Britain's most revered literary knights, highlighting a moment of extraordinary bravery that changed the course of his life before it had truly begun.
