The Germans occupied Estonia, and upon being inducted into the Germany army, my father, speaking six languages, was used to interrogate prisoners instead of being sent to the front lines. We spent the first years of my life on my grandparents' farm near Jõgeva. When the German front collapsed in September 1944, my mother, her uncle, and I escaped to Sweden by sailboat. Of the Estonians who stayed, about 20,000 were deported to Siberia and most of them died there. My mother did not know where my father was, or even if he was alive.
Life in Sweden
In Sweden, we were placed in a camp for displaced persons, where I developed asthma in the crowded conditions. She had no news of my father so she started writing to friends in Sweden to see if they had heard anything. Later we learned that my father had made it to the coast ahead of the Russian army, had thrown away his German army uniform, and got on a sailboat bound for Sweden.
I learned to read Estonian and Swedish on my own, but the lack of formal schooling had some consequences later on.
The captain of the boat got drunk and passed out, leaving my father to sail the boat. Halfway across the Baltic, the boat was intercepted by German patrol boats and ordered to stop. They asked my father where he was going and he said Danzig, a port on the Polish coast. They replied that he had the wrong course and ordered my father to follow the patrol boats. After a while they left and my father changed course again for Stockholm, Sweden. He arrived in Stockholm harbour early in the morning and set off flares to announce his arrival. He was interned by the Swedes and sent to a DP camp. Like my mother, he started writing letters to friends in Sweden to find out if they had heard about us. After six months, they found each other and we were all reunited.
I grew up in Kagghamra, enjoying tobogganing in winter and swimming, fishing, and boating in summer. I learned to read Estonian and Swedish on my own, but the lack of formal schooling had some consequences later on.
Relocation to Canada
In the summer of 1951, my parents received bad news: Stalin demanded all Estonian refugees in Sweden be returned. The Swedish government complied, leading to deportations and executions. My parents quickly packed, and we fled to Canada as refugees, traveling by train to Rotterdam and then by boat to Halifax. We arrived in Canada and settled in Toronto, where my parents took menial jobs and borrowed money to buy a house in North York. My father found work at Ontario Hydro, and my mother worked at the department store Eaton’s.
I started school at nine, unable to speak English and mistakenly labeled with an IQ of zero. Despite initial struggles, I quickly learned English and advanced to grade six. I graduated from Glen Rush Public School and entered Bathurst Heights Collegiate in 1956. I started to pay attention in school and my grades improved every year. By grade 13, I was at the top of my class. I made new friends and took an interest in sports. Another Estonian family moved into the area and Sulev Toppi became my best friend. We played tennis together and keep in touch to this day.
University
I entered the University of Toronto in 1961, enrolling in Engineering Physics, a challenging course with a high failure rate. The first year was Newtonian mechanics, followed by electromagnetism and Maxwell’s equations in the second year, taught by professor James Ham, who later became university president. In the third year we were introduced to the fascinating world of quantum mechanics.
By this time I knew that physics was my field and not engineering. I bought the book Theory of Relativity written by Wolfgang Pauli in 1921 (at the age of 21) and it’s still being used as a standard reference today. I had difficulty reading this book because I had no background in differential geometry and other more advanced topics in mathematics.
My thesis focused on lattice vibrations in quantum crystals of solid molecular hydrogen.
I transferred out of the Engineering Physics course and enrolled in Theoretical Physics in the Faculty of Arts and Science. The dean in charge of the Engineering Physics course in the Faculty of Engineering was disgusted that I wanted to leave but did not cause any problems.
Graduate School
In my fourth undergraduate year, I took quantum mechanics with professor Jan Van Kranendonk (JVK), a top theorist. I wanted to do my PhD at U of T with JVK but he had very high standards and I was not certain that he would accept me. My first interview with JVK did not go well. He commented: “So, you would like to contribute to our knowledge ?” He also said that I had some Bs in my undergraduate courses and he normally only took students that had all As. In the end he seemed to like me and said “I think I’ll take a chance on you.”
My thesis focused on lattice vibrations in quantum crystals of solid molecular hydrogen. Initially, I struggled with the problem, and JVK admitted he didn’t know how to solve it either. Luckily, professor Roy Glauber from Harvard visited and his lectures helped me apply his results to my problem. This led to my successful PhD completion with five publications, including work on infrared absorption and Raman scattering spectroscopy of solid hydrogen.
Postdoctoral Work at Oxford
I was awarded a two-year postdoctoral fellowship by the National Research Council of Canada for study anywhere in the world. I chose the Department of Theoretical Physics at Oxford University because others from U of T had gone there and it had a good reputation.
The department was headed by Sir Rudolf Peierls, a German-born British physicist who had played a major role in the Manhattan Project to develop the atom bomb.
As a Canadian, I was considered a foreigner and a second-class citizen from a former colony. The work I had done for my PhD thesis was of no importance in their opinion.
It turned out that the department had no organizational structure to deal with visitors and when I arrived in September 1970, I did not have a place to stay. I spent the first weeks looking for lodging while staying in a hotel. In the process, I got a chill from the cold and damp English weather and my asthma problems, which started in the DP camp as a child, started up again. My condition got steadily worse and I stayed in my apartment in Headington (north of Oxford) most of the time.
In the department, which was located in a rundown two-storey building on Parks Road, I was given a desk in a small room on the second floor with three other people. The room had poor lighting and a window facing a brick wall. England had not yet completely recovered from the war. For example 60-Watt light bulbs were not available in Oxford, one had to buy them in London. Working and living conditions in Oxford were a far cry from what I had been used to at U of T.
Another issue was the attitude of the British towards foreigners. As a Canadian, I was considered a foreigner and a second-class citizen from a former colony. The work I had done for my PhD thesis was of no importance in their opinion.
On the other hand, my experiences with non-British people was different. Eugenia (Genia) Peierls showed up at my apartment with groceries when she learned that I was ill. Genia Peierls was from present-day St. Petersburg, Russia and she had met her husband there when he worked with Landau, the great Russian physicist. My guess was that Genia Peierls had not adapted to British ways.
After one year at Oxford I had enough and decided to leave. I had met professor Walter Kohn from the University of California San Diego (UCSD) when he gave a seminar at U of T and I wrote to him proposing that I spend my second year of my postdoctoral fellowship at UCSD. He replied immediately and welcomed me to UCSD. I packed my bags and left Oxford.
(to be continued)
