Grandma won't let us starve (1945–1949) E-Book

Edith Slapansky

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

Seitenzahl: 230

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

In an understandable, exciting, and very personal style, the author recounts the events following World War II. Growing up in Ratzeburg, in northern Germany, she experienced the worries and hardships of people during the post-war period as a child. But as children do, the author, together with children from her family and circle of friends, always found ways to have adventures suitable for children, even though there was a lot they lacked. She remembers her grandmother with great gratitude, who went above and beyond to spare her large family the worst of the hunger.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

1945

1946

1947

1948

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1945

I feel the need to write about an unusual woman, my grandmother. But I don't really know where to start. I think I'll start with a striking event in the last days of the war.

Shortly before the end of the war, we had no more school lessons, which we children were not at all sad about. I was only nine years old at the time and was very happy about the extra vacation. We children didn't understand anything about the war as such. We didn't really know what it was about either - but whispered in our ears behind closed doors: "We lost the war!" But you weren't allowed to say that out loud. We had heard such words from adults and would repeat them without really understanding them.

I asked my mother to let me spend the vacation I had been given with my aunt Frieda in the country. I always spent my school vacations here.

I was at home in Ratzeburg and my aunt lived on the "Bäk", just under three kilometers away from us. I had to walk this distance, which I didn't mind at all. The only thing that mattered to me was getting there as quickly as possible.

Helga, my aunt's youngest daughter, was my age, we got on unusually well and that's why I loved being with her.

My mother allowed me to go to her. Overjoyed, I wanted to set off immediately with a small bag that my mother had packed for me with the essentials. But she kindly surprised me and said that she wanted to take me to my aunt's by bike so that I wouldn't have to carry the bag the long way. She also wanted to discuss with my aunt how long I could stay.

Aunt Frieda was her sister-in-law, they always got on very well and we usually stayed with her in the country during the school vacations.

Helga and I barely took time to say hello, we could hardly wait to be out and about. Every minute was precious to us. Weather permitting, we spent the whole day outdoors in the fresh air. We preferred to romp around in the meadow behind the house, where there was an old willow that we used as a tree house. It wasn't too high, so we could climb up easily and had a comfortable place to "live" in the old branches.

We also loved the small stream that flowed through the meadow not far from the pasture. There were lots of small animals in it, which always aroused great interest in us. We were particularly fond of the small sticklebacks and our imagination knew no bounds, so we immediately had an idea of how we could get our hands on such a cute little fish.

Together we went into the house to our aunt, asked her for a hermit jar and a string to catch one of the cute little fish. She was reluctant to give us a jar to take outside because she was afraid it might break and we might hurt ourselves. In order to get hold of the glass, we promised to take good care of it.

When we arrived at the stream, we tied the string around the edge of the glass, which we wanted to pull up at lightning speed as soon as a fish was in it. We lay down on our stomachs at the edge of the stream, sank the glass into the water and waited patiently in the hope that a stickleback would swim in. To our great delight, we didn't have to wait too long, and after a short time a curious little fish swam into the glass. We quickly pulled it up on the line. To our great surprise, not only was the fish in the jar, but also some tadpoles, and we were very proud of our successful catch.

Full of joy, we ran into our aunt's house with our "aquarium" to show her our great catch. She admired the stickleback, but then said: "It's better if you release it again, otherwise it won't survive for long." Helga and I were a little disappointed by her statement, we definitely didn't want to release it straight away, so we decided to keep it with us during the day, but so that it wouldn't die, we wanted to return it to its family in the stream in the evening. The fish actually survived the day.

We were constantly on the lookout for new adventures. Most of the people in our immediate surroundings already knew us. As long as we didn't do anything wrong, some neighbors tolerated us roaming through their gardens. Sometimes we were chased away, but that didn't bother us at all, we just went somewhere else.

We were particularly taken with one garden because it still contained an old, brick oven where bread was baked in days gone by. We imagined that the fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel could have taken place here. In our imagination, we watched the events unfold and couldn't shake off the strange feeling that the witch might still be hiding somewhere in the bushes - and watching us.

Another time we played family. But we needed a child for that, and Aunt Frieda's pet cat had to be used. We dressed her in doll's clothes and tied a hood on her head, which she didn't like at all. To make matters worse, she was also put in the doll's pram. After this we were always quite scratched up because the cat wouldn't stay still voluntarily. And to keep the cat in the pram, I held it down with one hand so that it couldn't jump out and pushed the pram with the other. So I could only move forward in a crouched position.

At the slightest moment of inattention, the cat took her chance and jumped out of the doll's pram to disappear. It was quite a funny sight to see the cat scurrying around in its jacket and hood until auntie rescued it from its predicament . The cat would then run away as soon as she saw us from a distance. I don't think she liked us any more, even though we meant so well by her.

With all our activities, we even forgot to eat. Only when we were too hungry did we make our way home to satisfy it. My aunt cooked the best stew in the world you could imagine. It was also a dish that could be reheated quickly, as Aunt Frieda never knew for sure when we were coming over for dinner. We hardly wasted any time satisfying our hunger and were on our way again in no time - to new adventures.

Whenever we felt like a snack, we would pop into our great-grandmother's house, who lived in the next village, in a long row of houses, where all the windows had the same flower pots with red geraniums that shone out at us from afar.

We loved coming to visit her from time to time. In our opinion, she baked the very best milk bread in the world. It was also very cozy at her place and she only let us into the living room if we had taken off our shoes first. We dutifully took a seat on the old red plush sofa. Great-grandma used her beautiful plates with the violet pattern especially for us to bring us the milk bread that we loved to eat at her house, and we had a glass of milk with it.

Our great-grandmother was a native Swede who had emigrated to Germany. We both loved her very much - and she loved us. She was a very calm, even-tempered person and we always felt particularly at home with her. Probably because we two restless spirits were the exact opposite.

As the three of us sat comfortably at the table, she asked us what we had already done today. Instead of answering, I asked: "Great-grandma, what are those men out there in uniform?" I could see them riding past from my window seat. "They're all on bicycles!" I said. Great-grandma got up to look out of the window so that she understood what I was talking about.

"For God's sake!" she cried, "the men in the gray uniforms look like Russian soldiers!"

"What are Russians?" Helga and I asked as if from the same mouth.

"They're soldiers," she replied. "And what are they doing here?" we asked. She didn't get a chance to answer, because at the same moment there was a heavy knock on the door. Great-grandma opened it and my mother stood in the doorway and said very excitedly: "Edith, you have to go home with me right away before the border to Bäk is closed." She was so excited that she had even forgotten to say hello and gave her grandmother a very emotional account of what had happened.

"The Russians are marching in right now! They want to close the border to you by the evening! I absolutely have to get back to Ratzeburg with Edith in time!" she said excitedly. My great-grandmother was frightened and I started crying loudly because I didn't want to go home with my mother when it was so nice here. Helga stood silently by and didn't say a word. She hadn't understood what it was all about either.

My mother hugged and kissed her grandma tightly and said goodbye to her and Helga, but then said: "If there's a chance, we'll let you hear from us! And say hello to Grandpa for me!" She then said to me that I should also say goodbye because otherwise we would run out of time. I did as I was told and trotted after her, crying.

My mother had come on her bike and I sat behind her on the pannier rack. Before we set off, we turned back to wave to great-grandmother and Helga, who were crying in the front door.

The journey to Ratzeburg was quickly accomplished by bike. My mother could have covered the three kilometers in a quarter of an hour if there hadn't been a fairly long hill halfway up which we had to walk. A long line of foreign soldiers passed us in the opposite direction. They instilled a little fear in us, the strange men. When we reached the top of the hill, we continued on our bikes. My mother pedaled hard to get out of this somewhat scary area quickly. It could have been that we would have been stopped and we would have been taken away without further ado. That's exactly what my mother was afraid of.

But we had a guardian angel with us and made it home unscathed. We went straight to my grandma's, where my younger brother Dieter was also waiting anxiously for our return while we were away.

My mother told her mother about the latest developments. Logically, my grandmother was now worried about her elderly parents. I haven't mentioned great-grandpa yet because he hadn't been present at what had happened.

My great-grandparents were both still sprightly for their age, but the fact that all contact with them was now to be interrupted by new borders worried my grandmother greatly. She told my mother what had happened in Ratzeburg during the day. "The English have invaded here, who knows what awaits us?" she said, frightened.

We were soon to find out. First of all, a curfew was imposed, but this was lifted after a short time. On another day, we were told that all the men in the village had to assemble on the market square as soon as possible. My grandfather was one of them. It was said that these men were to be sent to England as prisoners.

My grandmother was completely beside herself, she had lost her three sons in the Russian campaign and now they wanted to take her husband away from her as well. She had no sympathy for that. She gathered some women who were in the same situation around her and they marched together to the market square, where they cried and begged the commander for mercy for their husbands. They were already sitting on the trucks awaiting their transportation into captivity.

Some of the soldiers wanted to chase the troublesome women away immediately. But they were stubborn, stood their ground and didn't back down, making the situation embarrassing for the soldiers. They didn't quite know what to do with the women. The commander withdrew to the commandant's office with some of the soldiers for a consultation. It wasn't long before they reappeared and an interpreter announced his decision.

Men over a certain age were allowed to leave the cars and go home. Thank goodness my grandpa was there too.

Now came the time of great change for an entire nation. Everything, without exception, revolved around the procurement of food, and the surreptitious trade began to flourish. During this extremely bad time, my grandmother grew beyond herself. She was a real procurement artist in this area - after all, she had a large family to support. An older cousin of mine called Otto lived with my grandparents. He was an orphan and they took him in and looked after him. Grandma also looked after my mother, my brother, me and my aunt - my mother's older sister, who had been bombed out in Hamburg. After all, there were seven of us that she fed.

The entire population was now allocated ration cards, which were more or less enough to survive on, but never really filled us up. Hunger can really hurt, and we escaped it to some extent thanks to the self-sacrificing support of our dear grandma.

Contact with her old parents on the Bäk remained an additional concern. The border ran above the Ratzeburg Forest, where the road split at a point. The left went into the Bäk and the right to Mechow. There was a controlled barrier at this point, from where it was no longer possible to reach my great-grandmother via the usual route. There was only one way to get to them - around the lake in the reed belt.

I have to say that my grandparents lived in a house belonging to the cathedral parish, which was very close to the lake, opposite the Bäk. Refugees from Pomerania and my aunt from Hamburg, who had been bombed out, were also accommodated in this house. Now we were effectively separated from some of our relatives by Lake Ratzeburg. Due to its extremely convenient location, the house was to become an important contact point for refugees from the Soviet occupation zone.

Who in the family would now dare to make the risky journey around the lake in the reed belt into the Russian-occupied zone? After all, we wanted to stay in touch with our great-grandparents and wanted to know how they were doing. My mother immediately agreed to go, which of course displeased my grandmother. There was always a risk of being caught, and she didn't want to imagine what would happen to her daughter.

"I can go with them and protect them!" Otto joined in the conversation and my mother thought it was a great idea. But my grandma had a different opinion. "What kind of protection is a boy who isn't quite eleven yet?" she asked somewhat loudly. Everyone was quiet. But Otto was persistent and probably also a little adventurous. He said: "We're well hidden in the reeds. But as soon as we get out of the reeds, we mustn't take the main road, otherwise they would catch us straight away. But they won't see us on the dirt road! Auntie should just put on old clothes and a headscarf so she doesn't look too young!"

After much debate, my grandmother allowed herself to be persuaded in the hope that everything would go well.

In the meantime, she had heard from hearsay that there was a certain shortage of salt and vinegar in the country. God knows why - but there was. Just where these two preservatives were most needed - for preserving and curing meat.

So my grandmother organized vinegar and salt for the relatives in the country so that my mother and Otto could take it with them on their way to their great-grandparents. What they didn't need themselves, they would pass on to other relatives in the village.

Dressed very inconspicuously, Otto set off late one Sunday morning with a rucksack and my mother with a not-too-large bag of vinegar and salt, with the ulterior motive that the sentries would be a little less attentive or sluggish from eating at lunchtime. They had devised this strategy in the hope that it would work. And we waited impatiently and nervously for them to return soon.

Luck was with them, and shortly after dark they returned home unharmed. Our joy was unimaginable, especially that of my poor grandma, who had been so worried about her parents that she had often had sleepless nights. Now she finally received the relieving news and was overjoyed to hear that they were healthy and doing well.

The other surprise was that they brought back a bag and rucksack filled to the brim with food - eggs, ham and bacon. We could hardly believe our luck, these wonderful treasures could not be outweighed by gold. "They don't seem to be hungry over there if they can give us so much food!" said my grandma.

"But you can't imagine how important the salt was for her," my mother replied. "So the situation results in a barter deal for us," said Grandma. "But now I'd like to know how you fared on your sneak route?" asked Grandma. "The most unpleasant thing on the way in the water were our wet feet, we were only able to dry them a little at great-grandma's and she immediately provided us with hot tea. Otherwise, the great-grandparents are doing well - as always. They have enough to eat and your niece, who lives near them, looks after them regularly," said my mother. "That's very reassuring," my grandma said happily. "What was it like over there with soldiers?" Grandma wanted to know. "Fortunately, we didn't encounter any soldiers directly, neither on the way there nor on the way back. But once they've covered the whole area, it won't be as easy as it is at the moment to get around the border unnoticed. At the moment, they certainly don't know the individual people in the villages very well. But once they've been here for a while, they'll notice every strange face immediately," my mother said, a little worried. "That's why Otto and I can try crossing the border again before it's too late," my mother said. "Do you really want to take that risk again?" my grandma asked hesitantly. "Get some more vinegar and salt and we'll take it to the great-grandparents a second time," said my mother, and Otto completely agreed with her.

Just two days later, they set off for the Bäk again. They wanted to seize the opportunity once again before order was restored over there. But after just two days, everything was different. They often encountered soldiers and had a rather queasy feeling at the sight of them. In contrast to the first time, they felt uneasy inside and were glad when they arrived home again without any problems with their bags and rucksacks full.

After my mother and Otto had told Grandma about the dicey situation of the presence of soldiers, Grandma said forcefully: "That's it, and I don't want you to go that way anymore, it's too dangerous, and for a woman at that!" My mother understood her mother's concern and completely agreed with her, because she didn't want to go any more herself. Her instincts had told her that it would be better not to take any unnecessary risks or challenge anything.

But Otto disagreed and said: "I can't carry so much on my own, but if I go over every few weeks, there are still enough advantages for both sides, and it keeps me in touch with my great-grandparents. A boy of my age alone is hardly noticeable." "I'll have to think about that first," my grandma said a little hesitantly.

Otto had convinced my grandmother of his proposal, and just two weeks later he was off on his own with a smaller bag filled with salt. My mother had kept her word and had not gone back on the smuggling trail. It would have been a challenge to fate, and despite the good food, it wouldn't have been worth it.

So Otto set off alone for the first time, and he set off very early in the morning. He intended to be back home in the early afternoon. But unfortunately this was not the case, and our fears were justified.

The fact was that this time everything was going to be different than he expected. Otto took his usual stealthy route along the fields until he approached the wooded area where he wanted to disappear unnoticed. From there, he wanted to take the path to the lake and then disappear into the reeds.

He was deep in thought when suddenly, out of nowhere, some soldiers patrolled past him. A shock ran through his bones, but he walked on calmly and tried not to let it show. But one of the soldiers had probably noticed his moment of fright, he turned around and waved his index finger at Otto. He had no choice but to do as he was asked. Then the soldier pointed to his bag and wanted to look inside. Otto did as he was told and opened it, and the soldier beamed all over his face at the delicious catch and took the bag of eggs away from him. Then he tried to ask him a few questions: "Where do you come from, where do you live, where do you get your eggs?"

Otto played dumb and pretended not to understand him. But of course he didn't believe him and said that he should come with him first. So Otto was forced to trot along behind him. On the way, the soldier pointed to Otto's head with his hand and said: "You stupid, you curly hair, we know you all the time, better cut your head bald," and made fun of him. Thinking it over, he played a little cat and mouse with Otto.

After a short walk, he went straight to a stable - it was a pigsty, into which he locked Otto without further ado. Then he said to him: "Come back - come and get you - later, locked the door and left.

When Otto had recovered from the initial shock, he let his eyes wander around to see exactly where he was, which was not hard to guess from the smell - in the pigsty! His only thought was to escape from this sty as quickly as possible. But why had the soldier locked him up here in the stable of all places instead of interrogating him immediately, he asked himself. Then the glorious thought occurred to him - because he heard the midday bells ringing, the soldier probably didn't want to sacrifice his lunch break for his sake, and certainly not because of a stupid boy. He could always interrogate him after the lunch break, he certainly wouldn't run away.

But this thought should be a mistake.

Because Otto only had one thing on his mind - escape. That's why he wanted to use the break to escape. Looking around the stables, he was aware that this was no easy task. That's why he was under so much tension and could hardly think straight because he was also under time pressure. Once the lunch break was over, he thought, the guy would surely turn up again soon and have his fun with him, hence the immense time pressure.

He took another closer look at the stable to see where he could find a way out. He had already checked the door several times, but unfortunately it was too well locked and there was no way to break it open without the right tools. In between, the pigs grunted in their pens, feeling disturbed by him because he was a stranger to them. Otto was not impressed by this and continued to look for a chance to escape.

His gaze fell again on the two small windows on one of the outer walls, which didn't look too promising. But they were probably the only way out. So he had to come to terms with the idea of squeezing through the small window. Unfortunately, there was no other way to escape.

He first took a closer look at the windows because they were also slightly raised and made it difficult to squeeze through. Otto was close to despair because he was running out of time and the fear was always breathing down his neck. But only one of the two windows was the way to freedom. He also had to break the window first in order to squeeze through the small opening quickly, and he still had no idea how to do this. Of course, breaking the window would make a noise that would probably be heard by the crew, who would then immediately hunt him down. No matter how great the risk, unfortunately there was no other way out.

At midday, it was dead quiet all around and any unusual noise would be noticed much more easily than usual. The pigs in the barn were also quiet and it was unlikely that they would make any louder noises. He was aware that he had to act very quickly and not think too much longer, because he had to be prepared for the lunch break to be over and then he would be picked up for questioning.

His mind was made up, it was now or never!

However, he was still missing the right object to smash the window pane and immediately went in search of it. He discovered a pitchfork with a strong handle leaning against the wall. He thought: "That should be enough to smash the window, just what I need for this purpose."

In order to stand higher, he stood on one edge of the ferche, which was used to separate the pig compartments. This way, he was very close to the window so that the process could take place as quickly as possible and he could squeeze through the small window as quickly as possible.

He thought through his plan a few times before putting it into action. He quickly smashed the window halfway out of the frame to minimize the risk of injury. Of course, smashing the window made a hell of a racket. Then he squeezed through the narrow window frame as quickly as he could, hands and head first. Slender as he was, he managed to slip through halfway and caught the sliding fall as best he could with the balls of his hands, but this caused him severe pain in the back of his hands, which he couldn't worry about now.

It was just a race against time to see if he could get away or be caught. He was about to start his run towards the forest when he heard the first noise. "I can't do this anymore! Where am I supposed to go? Where am I supposed to run to?" He turned around on his own axis to find a hiding place. Then suddenly there was a possibility. He had discovered a large elder bush on the other side of the pigsty with lots of undergrowth around it, and he quickly climbed into it in the hope of not being discovered.