And if I go, I'll get you E-Book

Hildegard Maria Bertschy

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 513

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

With her text, Bertschy proves that real life writes the true stories, which, like a conversation between friends, does not shy away from the deepest shame and the worst grief. Together with Alexander, the protagonist who has been beaten by fate but is still full of life, we explore life in the Second World War, the post-war period and the fall of the Berlin Wall. The adventure in Spain gives Alexander new zest for life, when he, together with Julia, dares to take the step of emigrating in the guesthouse. That even in sunny climes, not everything is always sunshine and roses and that life casts its shadows, Alexander has to learn in the hospital. He would never have thought that his health and his relationship could be so closely linked, but, as they say, you live and learn.

Leseprobe

The first years of youth

Alexander, a boy from a middle-class background, was born in 1929. His father Karl, born on October 4, 1895 in Hamburg, was a handsome man with a proud bearing that made him appear taller than he actually was. His look was friendly and good-natured, and he wore a well-trimmed and well-groomed, narrow moustache above his broad, beautifully drawn lips. His light brown hair was parted on the left and combed flat to the right. His mother Dora, born on 01.02.1896, came from the countryside, from Buchholz in the district of Harburg. She spoke Low German, but was fluent in High German, which she first learned at school. Dora had a petite figure, dark, slightly wavy hair and was not particularly tall. As I could see from the photos of her, her facial expression was somewhat melancholy. Dora gave birth to her sons Malte and Alexander, her second son, on August 28, 1929 in Hamburg Harburg-Wilhelmsburg in the Maria Hilf clinic. Alexander was a boy who could already walk at the age of ten months, as his mother told him. She also told him again and again how they played tag together and how he could run under the living room table without hitting his head once, he was so small. He still remembered the games with his mother, but he must have been older then. "Oh, I can still remember her laughing today, we had a lot of fun together," he told me. As a little boy, Alexander had great difficulty speaking. When he started at the age of two, he could barely get the words he wanted to say right. The first word that came out of his mouth was "tschasch", which is why he was nicknamed Tschaschi. He was called this by all his family membersduring his childhood and later by his friends too. Today he is no longer Tschaschi, but his speech impediment is still with him. I don't mean that he stutters or doesn't speak fluently. Rather, it shows how profoundly and persistently this speech impediment affects him. I just noticed that he is one of those people who easily lose the thread of a conversation when they are interrupted. Unfortunately, most people don't have the patience to listen and don't let these people finish. Especially when Alexander is nervous or excited, his speech impediments become apparent. He simply needs more time to express himself. In addition, he tends to speak quietly and softly. This makes it difficult for him to assert himself like others who have a resolute voice.

Father Karl, a dominant man, was a captain on a long voyage in 1931, which was the job title at the time, today we would say captain on merchant ships. These ships, on which he worked, sailed between Hamburg, Chile, Japan and Hamburg. His mother, Alexander and his brother Malte were often left to their own devices because of their father's job. Mother Dora had a lot of responsibility and work to do with the two boys. She was a very hard-working woman and had the household well under control. She was also largely responsible for their upbringing, which she managed extremely well. The boys were always admonished to be orderly, because what a boy doesn't learn, a boy never learns. They must become independent, my boys, she often said when father was at home . She sewed the two boys' clothes herself to save a bit of money here and there. Alexander's brother Malte was born in December 1921. As a result, he never really noticed his brother, who was almost eight years older, during the first phase of his childhood. He thought about it and said after a pause: "It must have been the distance between our ages. He was already at school and when he came home, he was interested in other things, he didn't care about me." He himself was apparentlybar not a wanted child, as he told us, because a second child was not expected, as he was later repeatedly told. "The things people have to swallow," he said, pulling back the corners of his mouth and laughing mischievously. "I came anyway and I'm still here." I was amused by his statement, because this phrase was typical of him, he has a mischievous side to him. He went on to tell me that he loved his mother more than anything and that his father was mostly away at the time due to work. A total of eight families lived in the house where Dora and the boys lived. The Jacks, older people without children, didn't get to know each other very well because they hardly ever left the house. There was the Plöse family, the owners of the house, with their two children, who were younger than Alexander and his brother. The Heinickes, quiet, withdrawn neighbors, lived their own lives, just like the Jacks. They avoided contact and conversation with their fellow residents, but were always correct and friendly. The Fischer family had two daughters who were quite a bit older. Both lived outside Hamburg and were already married. Mr. and Mrs. Reichmann's entrance was on the left-hand side of their front door. The couple lived alone and had no children. Mrs. Reichmann, a pretty blonde woman, always had a smile on her red-painted mouth, which Alexander always liked. She was also the one who always had a kind, loving word for the boyand sometimes stroked his hair with her hand. You could tell when she was leaving the house because you couldn't miss the sound of her shoes. The scent of her sweet perfume also spread throughout the stairwell. Then there was Deisböck and his fat wife, who also lived in the same house. He, a civil servant, a lanky, conservative appearance, always had his nose to the sky, like Hans guck in the air. He usually wore a gray suit with a light-colored shirt underneath and a brownish tie. He was not at all sociable, and if you hadn't happened to see him in the stairwell from time to time, he would certainly have remained a stranger to his flatmates.ner. His wife took care of the household and if you saw her in the stairwell, she would look at you from the side, return your greeting, but then leave immediately. The two of them were the parents of a little boy who was still in a baby carriage. The Beckers' front door was on the right-hand side of the stairwell. They were the ones with the twins, a girl and a boy, about five years younger than Alexander. Peace reigned in the house, everyone was friendly, there was no intrigue and everyone lived the way they wanted to. Alex hardly knew boredom in his childhood. Sometimes he stood at the window in the living room to watch the goings-on in the street. Back then, there were only carts and diesel-powered vehicles on the road. You could also see DKW, Opel, Triumph and Mercedes passenger cars. In the classier cars, the passengers were so embedded in the sumptuous upholstery that they were barely recognizable. In those days, only the rich could afford such vehicles. Many people walked or were lucky enough to own a bicycle. This meant they could get about their daily affairs more quickly on a steel steed. "Imagine, we didn't even own a bicycle!" said Alexander. Everything they needed to live was in the immediate vicinity of the house, so there was no need for a bicycle. Then there was the family who lived in the neighborhood across the street, they were very special people. They had a child, a boy called Günter, who was a fine lad. Alexander didn't know the neighbor boy's father personally and never had the opportunity to speak to him. The man spent his days doing nothing, or so it seemed to him. He spent hours looking out of the window at the street with his head in his hands. Günter's mother was rarely seen, she was probably busy with the housework and certainly had a lot to do. He also never had the opportunity to speak to her during his youth or later. Alexander found it strange and incomprehensible that people behaved like that. He was often out playing with Günter, her son. Mother Dora behaved differently in this respect. She was happy when the children showed themselves at the front door, so she had control over who her son met. Alexander was never allowed in at his playmate's front door, which he actually understood, as it wasn't common for children to visit each other's homes back then. But he would have liked to at least have a chat with Günter's parents. In his own opinion, Günter's parents had a way of behaving that deviated from social norms. They must have been financed by the state. Günther was a nice, funny boy who was fun to be with, and Alexander particularly liked him. The boys were not allowed in the courtyard of the house, there was an absolute ban on playing. The grumpy landlord Plöse, a master painter by trade, did not tolerate children there. This was also where the residents' washing usually hung out to dry. The housewives also didn't like it when children crawled under the freshly washed laundry. It was precisely this forbidden aspect that was so appealing, and the hanging sheets served as welcome cover for the rascals when playing hide and seek. Plöse's work utensils were always in the yard and he must have been afraid of his paint buckets and ladders. So the children went to the park almost every day, which was opposite the former military district command. The green area was close to his home and was a play paradise for many children in the area. According to Alexander, the park apparently still exists today, but he can no longer remember its name. Mrs. Tschebong lived nearby, across the street, in her own nice house. She was Jewish, a ladylike, well-groomed, friendly woman whose husband had been dead for some time. At that time, Mrs. Tschebong owned the lending library, which was very popular. He always borrowed Karl May's books from her, said Alexander, who was often referred to by the nickname Alex. There were racks in the lending library and you could walk through the rows of shelved books. You would often come across people bent over a book at one of the small tables. You had to be quiet in the library and hardly dared to kick your shoes or even cough. Mrs. Tschebong only charged a few pennies for borrowing books and you were allowed to keep them for a certain amount of time. Mrs. Tschebong was suddenly picked up one day by the Gestapo, the Secret State Police. She was taken to the concentration camp in Fuhlsbüttel, or so it was said in the neighborhood, or at least it was assumed. Unfortunately, the lending library was closed immediately and the poor woman was never seen again. Fuhlsbüttel is a district of Hamburg and is located in the northern part of the city. Alexander's mother always had the same comment when a person from the same street they knew was picked up. "That darn National Socialism, we won't see him or her again, believe me, you'll see," Alexander heard her say. She always had a thoughtful expression on her face when she said this and you could see her raise her brow, creating deep wrinkles in her facial expression. What she was trying to say was still incomprehensible to Alexander; in his opinion, it was just mother's talk. However, almost everyone already knew what the abbreviation KZ meant. The people in the concentration camp were to be re-educated and also to adopt the thinking of National Socialism in the Third Reich, that much was clear. But people had no idea what was really happening at that time. Not only Jews, but also non-conformists and people of other origins, such as Roma, were sent to these concentration camps. Many who did not follow Adolf Hitler's thinking, who were critics of the regime, were taken away without further ado and had to do forced labor, or so they were told. Above the large forged iron gates of the concentration campswas written: WORK MAKES YOU FREE. This slogan was well known and Alexander understood these words as a child. If the people there worked well, they would soon be free again. He often thought about Mrs. Tschebong, an extremely nice woman who worked hard and had her heart in the right place. She had always worked, why did she have to be brought there, was she not as good as Alexander had always assumed? Questions upon questions to which he received no answers at the time, as the adults themselves didn't know.

Mother Dora maintained good contact with her friends, whose husbands also went to sea. Because the women were alone a lot and for long periods of time, they had to organize themselves for better or worse. So once a month, Mother invited her friends to a coffee party. Before the ladies arrived, they baked diligently and Alex was allowed to help his mother. He used a wooden ladle to mix the mixture for the cakes that his mother had prepared in a bowl. He always dug his index finger into the sweet batter and snacked on it when his mother couldn't see it, he said. Alexander was already too fond of sweets back then and found it hard to resist, although his mother didn't appreciate it when he did. His mouth curved into a broad grin, he said: "I still have the smells of the various fine baked goods that mother conjured up in my nose. If I closed my eyes, I'd be standing at the table with her in the middle of the kitchen again. When I stand in a bakery today and look at the delicious cakes and pastries in the display cabinets, memories of my childhood come flooding back. Then I often can't stop myself and always treat myself to something good."

Alex, he was still a little boy, always dressed nicely, who usually behaved in a well-adjusted way. According to old photos, he was a pretty boy, just the way mothers like their children. When Dora's girlfriends arrived, he was already scared in advance. "Oh, I still remember how Paula almost crushed me between her big breasts, Isometimes struggled to breathe so as not to suffocate in the lushness of her bosom!" he laughed. For my part, I tried to visualize this situation and it amused me. "Believe me, I hated these assaults, this kind of hugging," he said, grimacing. If Mother allowed it, he always made his escape in advance if possible. Anna Viertel and Sofie Jörn were different from the big-breasted Paula and were more his style. They were very well-groomed ladies, well-dressed, and they didn't ambush Alexander at the front door. They simply shook his hand in greeting and treated the boy the way he was used to being treated by his parents. This kind of hug didn't exist in the family, or at least it was unusual. He was not often cuddled by his parents. The relationship with his father and mother was nice, but rather formal and physical closeness of this kind was rarely practiced.

One weekend in the summer of 1936, it was shortly before Alexander's seventh birthday. His father, who had once again returned from a long journey, had a grumpy face. Alex probably noticed his parents' disagreements as they ate dinner. There was none of the cordiality between them that he was used to. Not because they were arguing, no, he could see the noticeable disagreement on their faces. Mother had a sad expression in her blue eyes that day and Alexander thought he even noticed tears in them. Father Karl remained silent, his expression hard and almost frightened the boy. Under normal circumstances, the family would normally talk a lot, and father in particular always had interesting stories to tell about his travels. Alex was almost glued to his lips with his mouth open and listened attentively to his father's words as he spoke. It was exciting when he talked about the high seas and the dangers of his job. Like the time when they were in distress at Cape Horn, caused by a rapid change in the weather. He talked about waves that were meters high. Of kawenzmänner that suddenly piled up like a wall in front of the ship out of the blue. As captain, he and the 23 crew members were pushed to their limits. The safety of the sailors, some of whom had wives and children back home, was his sole responsibility. He talked about how he and the crew had to steer the 150-metre-long ship through the monstrous waves. According to him, small ships had no chance on the dreaded route that day, they were unable to withstand the enormous swell and were mercilessly swallowed up by the sea. The Maipo, which was steered across the oceans by Alexander's father, seemed huge to the boy. The boy was filled with pride when he looked at his father in his captain's uniform, he looked good in it. Unfortunately, the trips ashore were always short and they always set sail again far too quickly. Dora knew how to dress smartly and preened herself whenever they accompanied her father to the port of Hamburg. The goodbyes were always cheerless, short and dry when he left, because they knew it was a separation that often lasted more than a year. Then the two of them stood on the quay alongside many others. Alexander always held mother's hand as they gazed out into the forest of ships' masts. Each sail was a testimony to the adventures experienced on the high seas. There it lay, the mighty, proud sailing ship on which his father was captain, a magnificent sight. Soon the Maipo, together with his father and the crew, left the harbor and tears welled up in Alexander's eyes, it made him sad. Many of those present, who accompanied their fathers and sons to the harbor, waved for a long time until the ship finally sailed. Alexander was aware that his father would be back at sea for a long time, leaving him alone with his mother and brother. Although he was no stranger to this process, he was always overcome with the same irrepressible sadness.

That Sunday in summer at dinner, he didn't know what had caused the discord he noticed between his parents. Was it because of him, had he done something wrong? His brother Malte wasn't at home and so he couldn't talk to anyone about his fears. It was impossible to talk to his parents about it, because back then you didn't get the answers that would have helped you understand. What's more, questions were usually a taboo subject in his youth. Nobody was interested in the children's worries, so young Alexander was left in a vacuum that day. His parents' relationship did not improve at all when his father returned home months later, on the contrary. The disagreements increased while he was at home, and there were often heated arguments between the parents. The boys felt the effects of this, and Alex also knew that it didn't bode well. He thought that his mother would be glad when his father finally left again. The following year saw the inevitable separation of his parents, but there was never a divorce because Dora didn't want one. It was bound to happen, Alex heard his mother say one day, because each of you lives for yourselves, so to speak. Alexander, who was actually with his mother most of the time, hardly felt the separation. His brother, however, suffered terribly because he was much more aware of the situation than the younger boy. His brother's grief didn't affect Alex much at the time, as he fortunately had his mother. After all, he still had his friends in the street, with whom he played almost every day. Dora was particularly kind to her sons after the separation, but acted possessively. She managed to turn the two boys against their father time and again. It was understandable that she harbored anger against her husband, but separating the boys from their father was not wise. He had not lived in the same house for some time now, but had moved into a one-room apartment. Alexander found out much laterwhy there were disagreements and later a separation. Apparently, his father was having an affair with another woman who was expecting his child. With bad words, the mother managed to keep her sons away from their father. What choice did the two boys have? After their parents separated, the two boys stayed behind with their mother in Hamburg Harburg. Alexander did not meet his father once in the next nine years, and that until after the war. After separating from her husband, Dora and her sons continued to live in the three-storey house. The house, built in 1890, contained simple apartments with no bathrooms and primitive kitchens. At least there was heating at that time, but it was bitterly cold in the bedroom in winter, Alexander told me. Dora had an extraordinary ability to furnish rooms practically. The apartment looked graceful, everything was always tidy and neatly organized. If you entered the apartment from the staircase, you entered the large living room via the hallway and then the master bedroom. To the left was an oversized bedroom, where there was no way to heat the room. If you lay in bed and breathed out with your mouth open, you could make out the breath, the room was so cold. In winter, ice flowers formed on the window panes, they looked like paintings. Stars, various flowers and leaves appeared on the frosted panes - there were no limits to the imagination. The bedroom, which the three of them shared, was large and spacious. Alexander remembers the layout of the room. In the middle of the bedroom was the double bed, where mother slept alone as if on an island. To the left of it was his brother Malte's bed and next to his bed was a small wardrobe. At the window, to mother's right, little Alex slept in his crib. At the foot of the beds stood a dressing table and a stool with a fur-like cover in front of it. Sitting there, mother did his hair every day, and he loved to watch her. The way she skillfully curled her hair with a comb fascinated the boy. She then examined her work in the side mirrors of the dressing table to see if her hair was neatly combed. If you moved the side mirrors into the right position, you could look at yourself from all sides, which the boy found very exciting. If you went into the living room, you could see the Volksempfänger, or "VE 301" radio, on the windowsill. At that time, there was also the more expensive community receiver, the Goebbelsschnauze, named after Adolf Hitler's press spokesman Dr. Goebbels. These inexpensive devices, made of bakelite and produced at high speed, were intended to reach the people; they were used for propaganda and only had two wavelengths. In 1933, on January 1st, the Nazis came to power and Goebbels wanted to bring an inexpensive device onto the market that everyone could afford. So the simple edition was finally brought onto the market for around 78 RM. The name (VE 301) had a meaning, VE stood for Volks Empfänger (people's receiver) and the number 301 for January 30th, because that was when the device was first introduced. The radio was black, tall and narrow and below it was the dial with the search function. In the middle, over the round loudspeaker hole, coarse jute was stretched. On the left and right were the buttons for setting the reception and volume. The device, which was not easy to operate, always had to be manipulated with both hands in order to achieve good reception. You had to pay a monthly fee of 2 Reichsmarks to listen to the stations, which almost everyone could still afford. If you looked to the right in the living room, there was a long sideboard. It was a particularly elegant piece, decorated with curved doors and relief work. Above it on the left and right were tall display cabinets containing various long-stemmed glasses. What fascinated Alexander back then was that you could pull out shelves from the sideboard to place china and cutlery. When his parents had guests, the fine china and highly polished silver cutlery were taken out of the cupboard. Mother laid the stiff, starched white tablecloth with lace borders on the table. The white porcelain plates with the blue flowers and the silver cutlery looked particularly good on it. When she set the table for the guests, the boys were only allowed to watch her, because she was always worried about the good pieces, which she guarded like a mother hen. In the same room there was an elegant stove that reached up to the ceiling and was covered in white tiles. When it was heated, the room quickly became comfortably warm. In the colder months, when people spent their time at home playing games at the table for hours on end, they particularly enjoyed not having to freeze. Chess or card games were a popular pastime in the family. Alexander also enjoyed playing with his metal construction set. With the metal base plates, you could build something according to a plan and screw it together, which was great fun for the boy. The dark, massive dining table at which they played was made of wood and the leather-covered chairs were placed around the table. Heavy, thick gold-colored curtains hung from the ceiling and covered the fine white curtains on both sides. In the men's room or smoking room, as they called it, there was an extendable table with matching chairs. A swanky sofa was covered in patterned, light gray fabric and stood against a wall together with two matching armchairs. Above the sofa hung a large oil painting with a gold-colored, wide frame depicting a sailing ship. Alex often stood in front of it in amazement as a boy, he thought the painting was beautiful. If there were visitors in the house, everything always followed the same pattern. After dinner, the male company would retire to the men's room to have their own conversations over a cognac and the usual cigar. The name of the room actually said it all. Women and children had no business there, everyone knew that and had to respect it. Through the door you could hear the animated conversation of the men, which separated the living room from the room in question. The women of creation were busy with the washing up and the young men. In the men's room there was a dark gray cast iron stove, which was of course heated up in the morning when male guests were invited. The fire was lit with old newspapers and small wood shavings and then charcoal was poured onto the embers to provide long-lasting warmth. Later, when Dora was separated from her husband and the room was no longer used, it soon served as a bedroom for her older son Malte. Alex continued to sleep in his mother's room, as there was enough space for two.

At that time, it was still rare for anyone to have a bathroom in their home, which would be unthinkable today. People washed themselves in the kitchen at the sink with washcloths and soap, and they also brushed their teeth there. The family owned a zinc tub, which was carried from the cellar into the apartment on Saturdays for the weekly bath. Everything in the room had to be pushed aside beforehand so that the tub could be placed in the middle of the kitchen. Large quantities of water were heated on the stove and then poured into the gray zinc tub. The kitchen was shrouded in a thick fog, it was steaming and you could hardly see anything. Not everyone had their own bath water, they all used the same. The only difference was that water was scooped out from time to time using a jug with a handle and replaced with hot water. This weekly ritual was a pleasant pleasure, but proved to be incredibly time-consuming. In winter, mother always placed the bath towels on the heated stove, and when you got out of the bath, you wrapped yourself in the warm towel. Her temporary bathroom was very small and uncomfortable. If it hadn't had a window, it would have been more like a storeroom. The stove in the kitchen was heated with coal, just like the ovens. This meant that a fire had to be lit every day if you wanted to put something warm on the plate. The coal for daily use was usually carried up from the cellar in metal buckets by the two boys. If Dora stoked up the fire and it didn't reallywant to get going, there was often acrid smoke in the small kitchen. They almost suffocated in the smoke, waved both hands and ripped open the small window to the courtyard as quickly as possible. The toilet was on one of the lower floors of the house, which was shared with four other families. They were therefore forced to leave the apartment to relieve themselves. You reached the toilet via the curved wooden staircase and were glad when you didn't have to queue. In winter, the water in the pipes always froze, a laborious affair. A kerosene lamp stood behind the bowl and remained there throughout the winter to keep the installation free of ice. The flame of the kerosene lamp was used to thaw the frozen pipes so that the flushing water could flow again. Everyone in the household cut toilet paper from old newspapers. The pages were then threaded onto a hemp string with a thick needle. When you went to the toilet, you carried the bundle of paper with you like a handbag. It wasn't very pleasant to clean your bottom with the rough paper, but it was all you knew. There was a large laundry room in the basement of the house, which could only be reached via the courtyard. The courtyard and grounds were enclosed by a wooden fence, which was painted dark. If you entered the laundry room through the front door from the courtyard, you came across two zinc troughs standing on a solid iron frame to the right of the entrance. The large copper washing boiler, which could also be heated with coal, was in the corner and to the right of it stood the mangle. Long wooden washing ladles, which looked like oversized wooden spoons, hung scattered along one wall. When Dora had laundry day, Alexander was often there. He proved to be a good helper and so he was allowed to help her with the wet laundry. Mother fished the hot, boiled laundry out of the copper kettle with one of the long wooden ladles and put it in one of the two troughs. It steamed and everything was enveloped in a thick mist, just like a bath in the kitchen. Dora rinsed the laundry thoroughly in the troughs and then came Alexander's turn. The mangle was a machine with two thick rubber rollers mounted above a square trough. The wet laundry was turned through them, which was a great help for every housewife at the time, because otherwise they would have had to wring out the laundry by hand. The rollers were operated by hand crank, which was hard work for the boy. He also helped his mother stretch the washing lines outside, hanging them on hooks on the house wall and fixing them to the poles that were walled in the courtyard. If the weather was good, the laundry was hung on the stretched lines in the courtyard, otherwise mother dragged the heavy laundry baskets to the drying floor, which was located in the roof of the house. Laundry days were very strict in those days and took a whole day, from early in the morning until late at night.

School enrollment

Alexander started school in Hamburg-Harburg on April 1, 1936, but his father was still at home. He attended elementary school, which was an all-boys school. After finishing this, he went to secondary school at the age of ten. His brother Malte, who was already at secondary school at the time, was a particularly good and hard-working pupil who found learning particularly easy. Alex didn't have much trouble with the school material either, he often felt underchallenged. However, he didn't really like going to school, he tells me with a grin. His mother was always the driving force and mercilessly insisted that schoolwork was done meticulously. They still wrote on the black slate with a stylus. "The audible scratching of the stylus on the blackboard got on my nerves, it hurt my ears, but you had to put up with it," Alexander laughs. "I remember it like it was only yesterday. If I didn't write something to Mother's satisfaction, she would clean it up beyond recognition with a damp sponge. I can honestly tell you how upset I got about her. Then came her admonition to do it right the second time. So I continued to scratch angrily with my stylus on my blackboard. Often with some resentment, but I tried to do better, I knew the consequences." Alexander had a strict teacher at school, but he was fair to all the boys and he liked him a lot. This teacher managed to motivate his pupils and there was hardly a boy who did not like attending his lessons at the end of the year. He did not punish the boys with a cane, as was customary at the time, but used his own methods. Pupils who did not obeyor disrupted the lessons had to serve detention, do their homework or write something. Alexander always got away without punishment, he was an obedient and well-adjusted pupil who never wanted to stand out and did what was asked of him. Classes were very large back then, usually with up to forty pupils in one classroom. It was certainly not easy for the teacher to keep track of everything. That's certainly why many teachers used the infamous canes to chastise the children and teach them to obey. In those days, there was no parental support at home when children were beaten by their teachers. Some were careful not to tell anyone about it at home. The fear of receiving a slap or a spanking was too great. "Fortunately, my mother never hit me."

On his tenth birthday, it was a Wednesday on August 28, 1939, his mother behaved mysteriously. She wanted to take him for a walk into the city center that afternoon, but the boy didn't know why she was so keen on it, and even after a lot of guessing he couldn't come to a conclusion. The two of them set off after school in the late afternoon and walked towards the city. Alex liked to accompany his mother when she went shopping in town, as there was usually a little something for him. And he suspected that would also be the case today. "I'll never forget this birthday for the rest of my life, when I walked into the store with my mother. There were bikes in all sizes and I was actually allowed to choose one of them," he says. Just for him alone, he could hardly believe his luck. His mother told him that he had received the money from his paternal grandmother. He himself was convinced that his father had influenced this, because he didn't really know about his grandmother. He always had a strange feeling in his stomach when he faced his grandmother. He probably knew that he wasn't particularly popular with her. Theno longer bothered him, he was used to being in the second row and had long since given up wondering why. The older grandson, his brother, was more important to her and had grown close to her heart, as she often said. Now he was supposed to have received this bike from her of all people, which was strange. Her grandparents owned an elegant house in a privileged location in Harburg-Eisendorf. Alexander sometimes visited his grandma, but he never felt that these encounters were warm and he had no fond memories of these moments. He liked his grandpa much better, he often came to visit and whenever he walked home from work, he would pop in for a quick look. Grandma rarely came because she couldn't come to terms with the fact that her son, of all people, had married a simple woman. Alexander knew from his mother that she was from the country and had grown up in primitive circumstances. In contrast to Grandma, who came from an upper class background and had a different lifestyle.

When he and his mother, who was on hand to advise him, found the right Adler bike in the store, it was immediately adjusted to his size. The existing saddle was removed as it was far too high for the boy. At that time, a new one was attached to the crossbar behind the handlebars. Fortunately, this option was available on the bike model and so the proud boy was able to rest his feet on the ground. After the adjustment, mother Dora and her son took the bike with them. Oh, how happy he was. The two of them walked back to Haue and Alexander could hardly wait to try out his bike for the first time. When they arrived home, he sat on the saddle of the bike and his first attempts at getting around were quite successful. He put his feet on the ground and made good progress with walking movements. He made progress every day, daring to lift his legs to get on the pedals. Before long, he turned out to be a skilled cyclist, which was great fun for him. He was eternally grateful to his grandma for this great gift and soon wrote her a long letter, to which she did not respond.

It turned out to be a good thing that his mother had decided to take the bike with her the same evening. In Harburg's only bicycle store, all bicycles for the military were confiscated, it was said. Harburg was an industrial town and almost all the stores were run by Jews, including the bicycle store where they had shopped the day before. Afterwards, they knew that another person had been taken to the concentration camp who had previously had everything taken away from him.

After and at the beginning of Adolf Hitler's rise to power in 1933, the state and only association of German youth for boys (DJ) and for girls the BDM (Association of German Girls) were founded. Later, in 1939, these were transformed into compulsory youth service. All young males aged ten had to join the Jungvolk. Alexander joined on October 1, 1939, shortly after his tenth birthday, and was proud to be there at the time. He experienced his first day in the Jungvolk as a loose gathering of young people. Everything was like a game to him, like playing with his playmates in the park he knew so well. The first thing the new arrivals were taught was to form up loosely in rows of three and to stand still and at attention at the command of the Jungvolk leader. After that, they were told to move and to keep repeating the same commands until everything worked blindly. Alexander found this fun and enjoyed doing the same as the adults. Later came the exercises: turn right, turn left, at ease, stand still, march in step. Alexander can still hear it in his ears today, left, two, three, four, left, two, three, four. This is how the boys learned to deal with orders and obedience, to march at the age of just ten. The sensitive Alexander had no idea what lay ahead of him and what he was being drilled for along with many other boys. It was all so exciting and he experienced many things that he wasn't offered at home. The Pimpfe (meaning fart or fuse for a cruise missile) was what the boys were called in common parlance. Each had two uniforms, a lighter one for the summer and a warmer one for the colder months. A brown shirt with long sleeves and short dark trousers with a belt were part of the outfit. A dark scarf held together with a brown leather knot was worn around the neck and a red bandage with a black swastika on the left sleeve. For winter outfitting, the Pimpfe were given long, warm trousers and a visor cap with ear and neck flaps. Everyone was also given a driving knife, or combat dagger, as it was called, but fortunately it was unsuitable as a weapon. He remembers how proud and delighted he was with his new possession. How he used to look at himself from all sides in the mirror of his mother's chest of drawers in full gear. The outfit was not given to anyone as a gift, because his mother had to pay for it. She could certainly have put that money to better use back then, she often grumbled. It certainly wasn't easy for Mother Dora to cope with these expenses back then. Alexander looked at me and said: "Oh, I can still hear her swearing about it today, saying angrily: We owe it all to that Hitler! If she had said that during the war, she would have been hopscotched and ended up in a concentration camp for re-education, as it was called back then," says Alexander. Dora had always been an opponent of Hitler, but she was careful what she said outside the home. Alexander often warned his mother to be a little more careful with her daring words, which fortunately she had only ever uttered at home. He was afraid for her, and besides, you never knew where the enemy was, even the walls had ears. In those days, you couldn't trust anyone, not even your best friend. The young Alexander was almost fanatical due to his involvement in the Jungvolk and was convinced of what he was learning and had already been taught. He only realized later, when he understood everything better, that the whole thing had a military background. The intention behind it all became clear to the young Alexander as he matured and questioned many things. The Pimpfe received military and sports training, and loyalty and obedience were also part of their duties. They also had to know part of Hitler's life story and be familiar with the Horst Wessel song, the melody of which was composed by Josef Hayden. He still remembers the lyrics and begins to sing: "The flag up! The ranks tightly closed! SA marches with calm, firm step. Comrades who shot the Red Front and reaction march in spirit in our ranks." These political songs had a militant quality and roused the crowd. He learned many such songs in the Jungvolk and also sang along vigorously himself. The meaning of the lyrics was not important to him, he didn't understand them. Rather, it was the melody and rhythm that made these songs special for him. It was only later that he realized the meaning of the lyrics, which made him think. Once a week, the Pimpfe, dressed in uniform, met in a building that was only available to the Jungvolk. The children were politically trained, educated and made compliant in the group's ensign. The boys were also told why Hitler was against the Jews. Jews were portrayed as the only ones who had the money. They could use it to run their businesses and buy everything, while the others had too little. Everyone must have money to survive, Alexander thought, and he felt a great injustice. If the Jews had all the money, it was clear that the parents had very little. In addition, there was the obligation to pay for the children's uniforms, which Alexander felt sorry for. Anger against the Jews gradually developed in the ranks of the Jungvolk. There was a sense of growing resentment on the streets and the Jews were increasingly shunned. They were referred to as thieves of the nation. People with whom they had previously chatted on the street and liked were suddenly shunned. You could see caricatures of Jews with long, pointed hooked noses in inflammatory newspapers. The evil, distorted faces, horrible, frightening figures at a glance. "When I remember those terrible times, I could cry with shame," says Alexander. "As ten-year-old children, we were successfully influenced in a negative way by people trying to make us believe that Jews were robbing us of our money - that was criminal. We children believed that, and it meant that we also hated the Jews when we were still young. When I think back to that time today, I have to admit that it was easy to manipulate public opinion back then," says Alexander. "People had no work, daily life was difficult, and so it was easy for Hitler to hold an entire country in his clutches. Thank God it's not so easy today because people are starting to think."

The motto of the Pimpfe was: Jungvolkjungen are tough, silent and loyal, Jungvolkjungen are comrades and Jungvolkjungen's highest is honor. As a Pimpfe, you had the opportunity to earn badges: Iron at the age of 15, bronze a year later, silver at 17 and finally gold with oak wreath. Many years later, everyone understood this tactic very well; it was motivating and goal-oriented. Today, Alexander can only say one thing about it: "I couldn't earn any badges, because by then I had become very critical, especially of what was happening and seemed opaque to me. If I didn't like something, I often asked about it and was seen as a constant grumbler by leaders and my comrades. But that hardly impressed me, because I had to and wanted to know the truth." His young life continued, the winter of 1939 was just around the corner and the Christmas season was approaching. There was usually some snow at Christmas and so there was an opportunity to go to the nearby Haake recreation areabecause it was the only place where you could go tobogganing. It was an hour's walk to this area, but it was normal for Alexander and always a great experience. Mother Dora liked to accompany her son and so the fun on the mountain was twice as nice with her. Before they set off home together, they always had a big sandwich with butter and tea. Mother always carried the provisions she had prepared at home in the brown rucksack with leather straps. After a day like that, you needed something hearty to fortify yourself for another hour's walk.

The square smelled of pine resin and sweets and there was a special atmosphere. The hint of cinnamon flavor added to the mulled wine permeated the air at the Christmas market. Dora and the two boys especially loved this time of year. On Christmas Eve, the three of them went out to get the Christmas tree in the town center on Rathausplatz. They always stopped by the same grocer, Mr. Lehmann, who ran his stall at the Christmas market, first. Alexander giggled and said: "Choosing the tree was quite a challenge. We had three opinions and drove our mother to despair. Look at this one, or the other one, and then we brothers saw an even more beautiful tree. In fact, after a long back and forth, we finally decided and bought the most beautiful one." During the Advent season, there were many different stalls on the town hall square and the market traders offered a variety of tempting goods that could be bought as gifts for the festive season. You could see happy faces strolling through the alleyways of the market. The atmosphere was relaxed and peaceful. The three visitors, like many others, were interested in what was on display and stopped at some of the stalls to admire the gifts, some of which they had made themselves.

Christmas Eve was approaching and on the morning of December 24th, the boys and their mother decorated the tree in theliving room. With its golden baubles, pretty tinsel and white candles, Dora and her children's Christmas tree looked beautiful. The excitement grew. Alexander and his brother Malte wondered what the presents would be this year. They could hardly wait for the evening. Before the presents were given, mother always prepared the sons' favorite meal. There were hot Vienna sausages with delicious, crispy bread rolls and the feast was perfect. Home-baked cookies were on the table, accompanied by dates and oranges. Chocolate in a cardboard box decorated with Christmas motifs was never missing at Christmas. At that time, it was still possible to buy everything that could only be bought with ration cards the following year. Now it was finally time to unwrap the presents. Alexander's joy was immense as he received his first camera from his mother, an Agfa box. The obligatory stockings and underpants, which were very useful, were of little interest to Alexander that evening. Mother Dora received a chrome tea kettle from her sons, which she could put to good use in the kitchen. Alexander loved the contemplative Christmas season. "Oh, it was always lovely. I loved the beautiful traditional Christmas tunes on the radio back then. I enjoyed the cozy, atmospheric get-togethers," he enthuses. The New Year was just around the corner and people were wishing each other happiness, health and confidence. Many wondered what the year 1939 would bring and how the future would turn out.

On September 1, 1939, the Second World War began with the invasion of Poland by the German Wehrmacht. A sad chapter had begun. Men and their sons were drafted and had to go to war. Many of them would never return home, of that they were aware, the suffering was indescribable. Families, now headed by mothers alone, had adifficult and hard time ahead of them. At the time, there was no answer to how long this misery would last.

Food was rationed in October. From this point onwards, everyone could only buy food using ration cards issued by the state. Rationing, which was in place during the war and until 1950, ensured better control and distribution for the population. For example, a stamp with an expiration date was issued for 30 grams of cheese or an egg. Without a stamp, you got nothing and your shopping bag inevitably remained empty. For each item you bought, you paid the value of the goods and gave the merchant the cut-out stamp. The merchant stuck it on a sheet of paper, but Alexander no longer knows exactly how this was settled later.

In 1930, the Hitler Youth was an important organization in National Socialist Germany that served to prepare young people physically and ideologically for the goals of the regime. One of the many activities organized by the HJ was the construction and later presentation of model airplanes. These activities were not only intended to teach technical skills, but also to strengthen community spirit. Alexander remembers how, on a sunny afternoon in the spring of 1940, tables were set up on the Uferplatz and covered with thin cardboard. The tables were neatly arranged in rows and each boy had his own place to present his model airplane. The home-made cardboard planes were printed in the original colors, and some had markings and insignia based on the real planes. A large crowd of spectators, including curious passers-by and parents, gathered around the tables to admire the boys' craftsmanship. During the presentation, the boys enthusiastically explained the special features of their models and the techniques they had used to build the plane. Alexander was at the Uferplatz that day for a specialreason. He really wanted to buy some of these airplane models. He went from table to table, admiring the craftsmanship that had gone into each of the models. He was also impressed by the passion and vast knowledge of the boys, who were all around 14 years old. It was possible to purchase the aircraft models that were set up for viewing as craft sheets. If you bought one of them, you also got the Uhu glue with it. There were not only German models for sale, but also English aircraft such as the Spitfire. Alexander bought the ME-109, the Stucka and a dive bomber, plus the ME-111 bomber and a few more models. With the model airplanes under his arm, Alexander left the shore. He knew that with this purchase he had discovered a new passion, a source of creativity. He spent many hours at the table, neatly cutting out the pre-printed sheets. With great care, joy and dedication, he glued the models together as the boys at the Uferplatz had explained to him. At the very end, he pulled in strings to hang them up. Later, with his mother's permission, the finished planes hung from the ceiling in his bedroom. Alexander proudly looked at and photographed his hovering airplanes with the Agfa box and then archived the souvenir pictures in his album.

Six weeks after Alexander started secondary school, on April 1, 1940, the bombs fell on the Harburg district. At that time, you could see advertisements all over the city, with bold letters reading: Mothers, send your children away. Sad but true, I have to admit, and a shiver runs through my body. I am thankful that I was not born in this unstable time. The children who spent their teenage years during the Third Reich were deprived of them. Unfortunately, such conditions will never be a thing of the past, because to this day the sanity of mankind has not improved and the world will never be without war. So it came to pass that girlsand boys, including Alexander, were sent on a journey. Kinderlandverschickung (KLV) was a programme organized by the Third Reich during the Second World War to transport children from threatened cities to safe rural areas. In addition to protection from air raids, these deportations had another purpose. The camps were run by specially trained youth leaders who were supposed to educate the children according to the National Socialist model. Being separated from their parents was particularly difficult for some children. The great fear and worry that something might happen while they were away from home and that they would not see their parents alive when they returned from abroad was an additional burden.

First Kinderlandverschickung Bamberg-Bavaria

The first Kinderlandverschickung was in April 1940 and lasted until September 1940. Parents were strongly advised to give their consent. Children from severely affected war zones in particular were to be taken away as quickly as possible. Parents were also allowed to keep their children at home or take them to relatives in the country, which was up to them. The boys from the secondary school in Hamburg were transported by train to avoid the bombing raids. Alexander told me that every child was examined before being sent away and had to undergo an aptitude test. Jewish children or children who were difficult to educate had no opportunity to leave, it was a hopeless undertaking. There were no costs for the parents for the deportation, as the state paid for travel and food. All the boys at the secondary school, a total of four classes with 80 pupils, now had to prepare for the deportation. The journey took the children to Bamberg in Bavaria. At the time, it was a huge logistical feat for the authorities, it should be added. Alexander's mother was very sad about the decision she had to make. It was solely for the sake of her younger son. She had no other choice, so she packed her eleven-year-old son's suitcase for the upcoming trip. Nobody knew how long the children would have to stay abroad on the day of their departure. It was a beautiful morning in the spring of 1940, the sun was shining and you would have thought the schoolchildren were going on an excursion. The mood was so good and many were looking forward to the adventure ahead. But others were crying, clinging to their parents, not wanting to leave home. While the children stood at the station with their loved ones