The effect of the murder of six million fellow Jews on the Israeli son of Czech parents, who survived the Nazi death camps, has not diminished with time, no matter that it happened before he was born My parents both survived the Holocaust. I have no memories of ever being told anything of what my parents went through, but I always knew most of what I know today. This must be due in part, at least, to what was visible: both my parents had numbers tattooed on their arms. There were photographs in the house of my grandparents and of my many uncles, aunts and cousins. None of them was alive. I twigged early on that something terrible had happened. My parents were born in Czechoslovakia. My father married his childhood sweetheart and had a daughter, my half-sister. In 1942, he was sent to a w