Where Is Home?

“Klaus, Ulli, Anneros, Kinder kommt rein (children come inside),” mother called from the veranda door in the back of the house in Falkenau. “And don’t look out the window,” she added. ‘Don’t look out the window?’ My brothers and I were having a good time in the garden playing hide-and-seek behind the berry bushes that lined the white picket fence surrounded our property. “Mutti (mother) why shouldn’t we look out the window?” I asked.
“There are unfortunate people passing by. I don’t want them to see you staring at them.” I was puzzled. I sneaked to the window. I wanted to see the unfortunate people. Many women and children in peasant clothes carrying bags, bundles and suitcases were walking along the dusty country road passing our house. “Mutti, where are they going?” I had not experienced such a sight in our village before. No answer.

I was six years old. My sister Dorit (Dorothea) was four, Diethild one, my brothers Ulli (Ulrich) eight and Klaus eleven.

My grandmother, our Omi from Breslau was visiting. She and Mutti were rushing around whispering. It was uncomfortable, unsettling. All these people didn’t know where they were going. They were evacuated from their homes, towns and villages that were close to the Russian border, and it was unsafe.

Later on I found out that the war had already been raging for several years in the East; we were fortunate not having been involved directly so far. For two days we housed several of these refugees not realizing that our turn would be coming too. The Polish and the Russian army were moving closer to our area with their tanks and military equipment.

Not long after, everyone in Falkenau was summoned by the Burgermeister to gather at a large meeting hall. We had to be fitted with gasmasks. Many women and children lined up in front of tables, where grotesque looking masks in different sizes were displayed. One heavy green thing with a long ugly snout was strapped over my face. “You have to keep breathing in and out,” the lady told me. I tried to inhale; a raspy sound, that would filter the air in case it was poisoned with gas, terrified me. I couldn’t breath and I panicked. We all had to be fitted with these ugly masks, on and off, so many faces and children crying in fear. “God forbid we will have to use them,” mother said. She tried to explain war, but I couldn’t understand what that meant.

The radio continued broadcasting in loud voices. I lived in bewilderment afraid to go to bed. I would wake up in the middle of the night scared I would suffocate. I would sit up in bed breathing deeply in and out as if I had to fight for air. The humming monotonous sounds of the bombers high up in the sky kept me awake. Where was Vati? Was he safe? He was drafted into the army, like many other German men. I was scared.

In September I entered first grade, I felt important, I went to school, I did my homework and life went on. One day in school soldiers in green uniforms entered our classroom. They pushed us children to the back wall. It was frightening. They surveyed us with stern looks and piercing eyes. I don’t recall what they said. All I remember is that we had to greet everyone with ‘Heil Hitler’ from then on raising our right arm. ‘Hitler’s order’ we were told and we had to practice right away.

At home, when it got dark outside Mutti hung blankets in front of the windows. The flame of a candle flickered throwing spooky shadows on the wall. “We are not allowed to have lights on, Mutti told us. “The Poles and the Russians could see the lights and throw bombs from their plains.” Loud, drowning sounds filled the house. We went outside wrapped in our coats and huddled up against Mutti. It was a very cold winter, the last one at home. “Do you see the moving red lights up there?” Mutti pointed at the triangular formations high up above us. The monotonous hum moved slowly across the sky. “We call them Christmas trees. They fly in the formation of a Christmas tree. They are the dangerous bombers throwing bombs wherever they see lights. They destroy cities and towns. That’s why we have the blankets in front of the windows at night.” I shivered.