ZGram - 11/14/2004 - "I could have been Heidi" / Part IV

[zgrams at zgrams.zundelsite.org]

Zgram - Where Truth is Destiny:  Now more than ever!

November 14, 2004

Good Morning from the Zundelsite:

The is the last part of a German soldier's recollection of the last 
weeks of World War II in bombed-out, utterly chaotic Germany:

[START]

      Our journey east across mid Germany to our homeland began on 
this mostly deserted road. While I pulled the wagon, my wife walked 
behind so she could be attentive to the children. And from time to 
time, Heidi insisted that she get out of the wagon and walk on her 
own for a while.

      And then it was about noon. We were on a by-road that led from 
Hamer to Delinghofen and Klusensdorf, when suddenly we heard the roar 
of strong air motors. I had heard enough of these motors in the last 
few years to recognize the sounds of hostile fighter bombers. "Run 
for cover," I shouted. "Now." My wife and I each grabbed a child and 
leaped into the brushy ditch along side the road. And since I didn't 
dare let go the wagon which carried our only means for daily living, 
it came plunging down behind us. And there, in the ditch, we hid 
among the brush. A moment or two later a row of detonations shook the 
earth. And thereafter, bombers repeatedly flew overhead towards a 
target which seemed to be on the other side of the hill. It was just 
our fate that we were hiding in a brushy ditch directly under the 
course of the fighter bombers.

    We covered our children with our own bodies to protect them from 
the flying splinters from bombs which missed their targets.  It is 
difficult to adequately describe the sounds and the emotions we went 
through. Only persons who have experienced fighting bomb squadrons 
flying 100 meters overhead in repeated entries on an extraordinarily 
close target, combined with the released chain reaction of gigantic 
explosions...could possible understand our situation. It was the same 
as being at the front.

      The attack lasted for an eternity and for a long time after the 
bombers had flown out of the area, the detonations continued. My wife 
held herself good, but it was no wonder that after this inferno we 
were all exhausted and in need of a change of clothing.

      We walked to a nearby farm and requested of the women there that 
we be allowed to relax in a room for a short time. The women received 
us cordially and told us their men were off fighting at the front. 
They also told us that an ammunition depot had been the target of the 
attack we had just experienced. Word was already circulating 
throughout the region that the depot had been pulverized by the 
fighter bombers.

      About four o'clock that afternoon a hazy sun shone through the 
powder and smoke vapors. It was time to get up and get moving, to 
continue our trip to our Sudeten German homeland. Both children sat 
in the wagon now. Our little Heidi no longer begged to walk on her 
own.

At ten o'clock that night I asked for lodging at a house in a town 
called Balve. The people here were extremely kind, and graciously 
offered a modest bed to my wife and the children, while I gladly 
slept on the floor.

      The next morning, while my wife was busy with the children, I 
went for a stroll around in this town called Balve. On the main 
street I came upon a column of German army trucks. To the soldiers I 
asked the question, "Where are you headed?" "To Erfurt," they said. I 
was very happy when the soldiers permitted us to travel along with 
them in the back of one of the trucks because we were a long way from 
Erfurt, which was a city in the east, in the direction of Dresden, 
and I was hoping that somewhere along the line we could catch a train 
for a faster trip home.  But after some time of bouncing along in the 
back of an army truck, I realized from the road signs, that the 
cities we were passing through were in a different direction than 
"Erfurt". Upon my questioning this unusual route to Erfurt, I heard 
that the army column was traveling to the city Herford, somewhat 
northeast of Bielefelt. It was then I realized that the soldiers I 
had talked to spoke in dialect, and when I had understood it as 
"Erfurt", in actuality the soldiers had said "Herford". So instead of 
traveling to the east all this time like I thought we should have 
been, we had been traveling to the north.

Now unfortunately, my mistake could not be changed at this time, so I 
was very grateful when after some 150 kilometers we finally arrived 
in Herford. I was also grateful that we had not been attacked by a 
fighter bomber during this trip, but now, if we wanted to get to 
Tetschen in a reasonable amount of time, we simply had to continue by 
train, and the only trains of any use to us had to run easterly, in 
the direction of Kassel-Eisenach. And since most passenger trains 
were not on regular schedules anymore it was necessary that I search 
out all incoming trains as to their destination. So I was forced 
then, to take the risk of sudden air attacks and wait with my little 
family in the vicinity of the Herford train station on the big chance 
that the right train would come along.

      After a long wait we got lucky and boarded a train to Hamelin, 
about 60 kilometers distant. But we had hardly stepped off the train 
at the Hamelin station, when we heard the shuddering tone of an 
air-raid alarm. It was night time, and no street lights, and we were 
in a strange city. We could only follow the streaming masses of 
people running for what would be the nearest air raid shelter. 
Suddenly we found ourselves in what appeared to be a gigantic, 
rectangular, several storied cement-air raid shelter, without 
windows. Stairless, serpentine path led to the different stories, so 
that we could go forward easily with the wagon. The lighting was 
extremely meager as is usual in such a shelter. We finally found a 
somewhat quiet corner and crouched there, waiting nervously with all 
the rest of the people for the all clear signal. Fortunately, Hamelin 
had not been the goal of the hostile aircraft that night.

      During these March days in 1945 train traffic proceeded only 
during the night, so the next day, we stayed as much as possible in 
the vicinity of the shelter, waiting anxiously, hoping to board a 
train that night. The rest of our trip held numerous interruptions 
due to the mostly shorter stretches, and which at times, ran only on 
single track side stretches. For the most of the way, I stood in the 
space at the front of each railroad car next to our wagon. We could 
not even begin to think of real sleep or of any real washing of 
ourselves. And fortunately the tracks through the thoroughly bombed 
out Dresden had been shoveled free, and the last stretch of our trip, 
from Leipzig to Bodenbach moved along without anymore lengthy 
layovers.

      Sunday, March 25th, six days after we left Wuppertal, we arrived 
in our homeland. We received a very cordial greeting from my wife's 
Mama and also from my family. Once again, an adventure of mine had 
found its happy ending. Not one of us had taken sick. We had 
withstood dangers and hardships. We had many reasons to be grateful 
to the loving God. However, the persistant dangers and the constant 
tension of how to face up to our adventurous trip had been a 
difficult, nerve racking burden for us.

I thought it best that my stay in Tetschen to rest up from our 
journey should last no longer than two days, and after that I should 
very well be on my way again. It was already a fact that Canadian and 
USA units had taken the entire Ruhr and Wuppertal areas by means of 
two very strong parallel "pincer arms". And expected at any time now 
was the closing at the peak of this pincer arm, which would make it 
impossible for me to get to Wuppertal.

      Acquaintances I met on the street, offered the advice, "Don't 
return to Wuppertal." They referred to the impending closing of the 
Ruhr-Wupperkessel regions and to the end of the war which everybody 
surmised was fast approaching.

      As far as I was concerned my personal safety was not a 
consideration, so I refused their advice. To put it into perspective, 
I had taken leave of my post only because of conditional 
circumstances, which I had already taken care of; my wife and my 
children were back in Tetschen in safekeeping with relatives. 
Therefore, it was my inflexible duty to return to the factory in 
Wuppertal, exactly the same as if I had been under military 
obligation. My place was in Wuppertal. I was no traitor!

      As for my return trip to the Wupper Valley, we reckoned that 
train traffic had surely broken down even further from the enemy's 
air attacks in the last few days, and for much of the way I would 
have to rely on my own means of transportation, for instance, my 
bicycle. And I would probably have to sleep out of doors, so we 
packed a blanket in one of the two knapsacks I would take along. 
Unfortunately, the Hildebrandt's wagon would have to remain in 
Tetschen.

      During the evening of the second day I moved my wife and 
daughters from our house to my father's house, where in one of the 
apartments lived my sister, her husband and their daughter. And since 
at this time, a reunion with my family anytime soon did not appear 
very likely, my departure was not easy. For this last night in 
Tetschen I slept in Mama's apartment on Brucken Street.

      In the early morning of March 27, a Tuesday, I left Tetschen by 
train, and by chance used a train mounting for my bike, which was 
dispatched over Dresden to Leipzig. Now, for the first leg of the 
trip, to Leipzig, it went basically normal, but after that, my trip 
met with numerous interruptions. There were no scheduled trains west 
across Germany anymore, only trains of 3 to 4 cars, which frequently 
had to take the side stretches. Railroad bridges, viaducts, and even 
small train stations had been systematically demolished by fighter 
bomber squadrons.

      In those bleak March days of 1945 and up to the bitter end on 
May 8, 1945, the German Empire was a bloody war zone. By day, 
thousands of bomber squadrons flew over the land, pouring down death 
and destruction on the innocents, leveling their villages. By night, 
it was the heavy four motor bombers that dropped phosphorus, iron and 
steel on the cities, mostly the residential areas, where there were 
indeed only women, children and very old people. It had nothing to do 
with bravery and soldiery anymore, it was pure murder. The 
English-Jewish-American human benefactor did the job on the German 
civilian population. But, in spite of the year long bombing terrors 
on the open cities and the small places, the murderers did not 
succeed to unnerve the German civilian population, to ripen them for 
revolution. To the end, the German people remained true to their 
Fatherland. Time and time and again they dug in, fortified themselves 
and carried on.

     The betrayal of the German folk remained with a disgraceful 
clique of high officers and nobles, who alone are responsible for the 
fact that Soviet Communism became the deadly danger for the entire 
world after the capitulation of Germany on May 8, 1945, and up to 
this very day (April 23, 1980) as I write this.

[END]