Half Marathon finishing at Stuart Park, Wollongong, 23-8-1987
Caroline tries to take a picture of Tristan playing, Peter looking on. Grandma Uta enjoys watching Tristan.
It is Peter’s Birthday!
Pictures from 1987/1988
It is Peter’s Birthday!
Category: Memories
It is Peter’s Birthday!
My Family’s Reaction
https://auntyuta.com/2011/12/06/575/
After reading my account regarding the lucky escape from the bombs in 1945, two of my grand-children had a few questions. One asked, whether there had been a lot of noise, when the bombs came down, the other one wanted to know, which song little Peter had been singing, when we were bombed. And had the lights gone off?
Well, we always had some candles handy, in case the lights would go out. On this occasion for sure the lights all went out instantly. The noise was horrifying as the bombs hit us. It was such a terrific noise that nobody could be in any doubt, our house had been hit this time. In the quiet that followed and before people started to move around to look for an escape, they did light a few candles.
Five bombs had hit our building in quick succession. Immediately afterwards it was absolutely quiet. That meant, there were no more planes in the air. What if the last plane, that was around, just had to get rid of the last five bombs before flying back to follow the other planes who were on their way back already?
As far as little Peter’s song is concerned, I think it was probably the song about little Jack who wanders off into the world and his tearful mother stays behind. After seven years the boy thinks of his mother and very quickly runs back home.
OUR LUCKY ESCAPE
Today I remembered again how we escaped all these bomb raids during World War Two. and how we escaped the bombing of grandmother’s place in Leipzig in April 1945. Here I wrote about it:
https://auntyuta.com/2011/12/08/our-lucky-escape/
Some of my children know a bit about our lucky escape in 1945. In case they want to find out a bit more about it, I am now trying to write down whatever I do remember.
During the last war years we had stayed away from Berlin, living east of Berlin in a desolate country area. With the Russians fast approaching at the beginning of 1945, my mother decided, we would move to grandmother’s place in Leipzig, rather than go back to Berlin to our apartment which we still rented. We children were never allowed to visit Berlin during the years of the bomb raids.
From the beginning of February 1945 my mother, my two brothers and I stayed in Leipzig with grandmother and cousin Renata. As I remember it, there were frequent bomb raids. We were used to the sound of the sirens and having to stay in the cellar for hours at a time.
After Christmas, schools had not opened any more. We played a lot in the surrounding streets with other children. But we were never allowed to stroll very far. In case of an alarm , we had to be within the vicinity of our cellar. For us children this was just part of every day life. My brothers were three and six years, I was ten years old. The winter was very cold, but we still had enough to eat, were dressed warmly. In the kitchen there was always a fire going in the oven for cooking and for hot water. In the bedrooms we had enormous feather-beds to keep us warm.
There was talking about that this bloody war was soon to end. We sure were looking forward to this! I cannot remember ever having been scared or thinking that anything bad could happen to me. Or to my family. To us children it seemed rather entertaining to be sitting in the air-raid shelter. Many people congregating as soon as the sirens went off, was extremely exciting! We did get to know everyone, who lived in that tall five story building. The adults would talk to us children, asking us questions, just being friendly.
And we would listen to the adults talking to each other. I remember that I always found it interesting to listen to adult conversations. And sometimes all of us would sing a few songs. I loved the singing of songs! When we could hear bombs hitting somewhere in the neighbourhood, it never seemed very close to us. This meant we were all right. Often my three year old brother entertained everyone by singing solo. They were cute little children’s songs. People always encouraged him to sing more songs because they loved his singing.
In April there was another bomb-raid. We had a relaxing time with everybody in the cellar. It was a long lasting alarm, went on for hours. Since it was in the middle of the night, mum wanted us to go to sleep. We were able to stretch out a bit on our makeshift beds. But I don’t think we were able to go to sleep that night. My brother Peter was still singing his songs when several bombs hit us. This time there could be no doubt that the bombs had fallen right on top of us since the noise was absolutely deafening! My six year old brother Bodo started crying. I felt so sorry for him. It was terrible seeing him being so horribly scared. I said to him he needn’t be afraid. Soon everything would be over.
I was right. It did not take long at all. All of a sudden, it was very quiet. Then some people started moving, investigating, whether we could still get out. Our main exit was full of debris. Impossible to get out there. There was a bricked-in escape to the cellar of the next door building. To make use of this escape, quite a few bricks would have to be dislodged. Then someone shouted that the window, that led from the cellar to the footpath in one of the adjoining cellar-rooms, was not blocked. It was easy, to get out through there!
A sigh of relief went through the crowd. My brother Bodo was not scared any more either. My brother Peter had never been scared at all. People said, this was because he had still been too little to understand. Later on, we found, that the building had been hit by up to five bombs. Right to the ground-floor, everything had been torn away. Miraculously, a lot of the ground-floor was still standing. This was my grandmother’s apartment! My grandmother was able to save some of her furniture together with all our belongings. A lucky escape indeed.
I published the above in December 2011 and here are some comments to this post:
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A Drop in Living Standards?
I ask myself the same questions again that I asked already a few days ago. Here they are:
“A drop in living standards to sustainable levels? It seems to me, hardly anyone is prepared for a drop in their living standards especially if our leaders do not have the guts to insist on it.
What then is most likely to happen in the near future?
Some more far thinking people tell us, something catastrophic may happen, namely the collapse of our natural support systems. . . . The majority of people so far resist believing all this. especially when the leaders give the impression that it is all right to just continue with our way of living the way it is. So, why change anything when we have such a ‘good life’; isn’t this the attitude of most people?”
I say it again, the majority of people so far resist believing that a drop in living standards to sustainable levels is necessary. I would say, in all war situations people generally did accept a drop in their living standards. They had to, right? My own experience in World War Two and the years after the war (in Germany that is) showed me that people could quite well exist with a huge drop in their living standards. Actually, a lot of people seemed to live a healthier life when food was scarce. This of course does not include people who suffered very ill health because of starvation! One might say, there is a actually a great difference between a scarcity of food for a lot of people and some terrible starving because of severe food shortages. . . . Anyhow, I think, excessive food consumption and wastage of food, the way it is being encouraged in our affluent society, we should better try to avoid.
I think the excessive climate changes could be kept in better check if we tried very hard to avoid all these excesses of our modern way of life. We should act more and more as though we are in a war situation already!
The problem is, that most people in First World countries do not believe as yet that severe climate change is something we should be prepared for. However, all our knowledge about the climate change crisis should tell all of us that a crisis it is, a crisis as great a we face in a great war. And this crisis demands that our governments and big corporations act accordingly so that people in these crisis zones have a chance to survive.
And here now are a few reflections of mine what for instance life in ‘advanced’ countries such as Germany was like in the 1930s and even during the war between 1939 and 1945, as well as in during the difficult post-war years.
What puzzles me is, that I cannot recall that at any time during those years anyone had to live on the streets. Even during the time of bomb raids the survivors of bomb raids, as far as I know, did not have to live in the open but were accomodated in buildings that could still be lived in. A lot of people had to share accommodation with other people, meaning a four room apartment, apart from the original residents, was then shared with several other needy people.
During the time of World War Two some very severe bombing campaigns occured all over the world with severe loss of life. Ten examples can be seen in the following link.
http://www.onlinemilitaryeducation.org/posts/10-most-devastating-bombing-campaigns-of-wwii/
Swinoujscie is just one example, where a great number of people, including refugees, were killed (in just one day!).
6. Swinoujscie (12 March 1945) – 5,000-23,000 killed
“The Polish city and port of Swinoujscie suffered extensive bombing at the hands of the US Air Force in WWII, and all in just one day. On 12 March 1945, the German-controlled city, which numbered many refugees amongst its population, was heavily bombarded. It has been estimated that between 5,000 and 23,000 people lost their lives in this extremely destructive raid. The exact figures are difficult to ascertain because Ð as in many other parts of the world at the time Ð much of Eastern Europe was in total chaos as the war drew to a close. Following the end of the war, Swinoujscie – formerly known by its German name of Swinemünde – was repopulated by Poles, and has remained part of Poland ever since.”
“The Second World War (1939-1945) saw many terrible developments in humanity’s history. Indeed, it was of course set against the backdrop of the wholesale destruction and planned extermination of whole groups of people because of their ethnicity, political allegiances or religious beliefs. The story of Nazi Germany’s aggression and the Allied Powers’ subsequent response – in a war that quickly encompassed much of the world map – is a story of power, technology and science. That same science lent its fateful hand to the aims of men and saw its terrible zenith in the horrors of the bombing campaigns of World War Two. Here we are not considering the equally horrific and never matched atomic bombing raids on Nagasaki and Hiroshima; rather, we speak of the meticulously planned and often prolonged campaigns that razed cities to the ground and devastated entire urban populations. Here, then, are the 10 most devastating bombing campaigns of WWII:
10. Osaka (March-August 1945) – 10,000 killed
The Japanese suffered tremendous loss of life during World War Two. Their bitter conflict with the United States was a war of escalating violence that culminated in the humanitarian nightmare of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Yet, prior to the one-off use of atomic weaponry against those two cities, Japan’s major urban centers were subjected to an extensive strategic bombing campaign. Of these cities, Osaka was hit particularly hard, suffering more than 10,000 civilian casualties in the months of March, June, July and August 1945. The first raid of 13 March and the early morning of 14 March was perhaps the most intense and destructive of these sorties of destruction. A total number of 274 American B-29 heavy bomber airplanes attacked Osaka on that night, leaving devastation in their wake. Napalm and incendiary cluster bombs were aimed at civilian housing by the low-flying bombers, and the chaos reigned for three-and-a-half hours. This single raid left 3,987 dead and 678 missing.
9. Kassel (February 1942-March 1945) – 10,000 killed
The city of Kassel, in the region of Hesse, in west-central Germany, was subjected to an ongoing bombing campaign that began in early 1942 and went on almost until the end of WWII in 1945. During the heaviest and most intense bombing raid, on the night of 22Ð23 October 1943, the British Royal Air Force deployed 569 bombers over Kassel’s city centre. The concentrated explosion of 1,800 tons of bombs – incendiaries among them – resulted in a lethal firestorm. At least 10,000 people died in the explosions and ensuing fires, and the flames were still burning seven days later. The city was targeted so vehemently largely because of its important military-industrial sites: the Fieseler aircraft plant, Henschel tank-making facilities, railway works and engine works were all based there. When the Americans liberated Kassel in April 1945, there were only 50,000 inhabitants; in 1939 there had been 236,000.
8. Darmstadt (September 1943-February 1944) – 12,300 killed
The German city of Darmstadt, in the southwest of the country, suffered several bombing raids, mainly during 1943 and 1944. Of these, by far the most destructive was the attack of 11Ð12 September 1944, when the RAF carried out an intense attack. In comparison to other German cities, Darmstadt was not a natural target: a university town, it contained few industrial targets, the Merck chemical factory being the main one of note. Despite this, however, the city was devastated by a force of 226 Lancaster bombers and 14 Mosquitoes, which intentionally spread their bombs over as wide an area as possible, targeting the medieval city center where the houses were constructed from wood. Almost all of these homes were obliterated as a fierce fire raged. It has been estimated that 12,300 inhabitants lost their lives and the Germans held the raid as an example of RAF “terror bombing.”
7. Pforzheim (April 1944-March 1945) – 21,200 killed
Towards the end of the war, Pforzheim, a town in the southwest corner of Germany, was bombed several times. The main reasons for the RAF attacks, as stated in a report dated 28 June 1944, was that the town was a center for the jeweler and watch-making trade and was thus likely to produce precision instruments useful to the German war machine. However, the town was not placed on the RAF’s target list until November 1944, and the main raid did not take place until February 1945. It has been suggested – by historian Detlef Siebert, for one – that Pforzheim was mainly targeted because it was easy to locate and contained a medieval city center susceptible to fire. In any case, 379 British aircraft took part in the February 23 attack, which in a terrible 22 minutes (from 19.50 to 20.12) destroyed 83 per cent of the town’s built-up area, killing 17,600 inhabitants and injuring thousands more. The inner city areas were more or less completely depopulated and the town ravaged as a result of explosions and deadly burning phosphorus materials.
5. London (September 1940-May 1941) – 20,000 people killed
The London Blitz – from the German word “blitzkrieg,” meaning “lightning war” – is, for British citizens, at least, the scene of some of the defining images of the Second World War. The capital of the United Kingdom was subjected to a sustained strategic bombing campaign carried out by the German Luftwaffe that is said to have lasted for 76 consecutive nights and was directly responsible for the deaths of 20,000 people. It is estimated that more than one million homes were damaged or flattened during the bombing, with poor areas of the city such as the East End suffering particularly badly during the onslaught. Yet despite such devastation, Britain’s resolve and unwillingness to succumb to the German show of strength helped changed the course of the war, and provided a launch pad for the Allied fight back of 1942-1945. To paraphrase Prime Minister Winston Churchill, they “never surrendered.”
4. Berlin (1940-1945) – 20,000-50,000 killed
The German capital endured a prolonged period of strategic bombing that lasted for almost the entire duration of the war. In total, Berlin was the target of 363 air raids between 1940 and 1945, from the airplanes of the British, the Americans and the Soviets. From 1939 to 1942, the RAFÕs policy of only bombing buildings of direct military importance was slowly supplanted by the new strategy of “area bombing” – that is, the bombing of housing and civilian centers. While the death of civilians was never explicitly recognized as its aim, the results of area bombing were inevitable. Between 20,000 and 50,000 Berliners lost their lives in the sustained bombing of World War II, and many times more people were left homeless.
3. Dresden (October 1944-April 1945) – 25,000 killed
Dresden, Germany’s seventh biggest city at the time of the Second World War, and an extremely important industrial centre, experienced one of the most severe bombing campaigns seen anywhere up to that point in time. During the most intense period, from 13 to 15 February 1945, 1,300 bombers from a combined RAF and USAAF force dropped more than 3,900 tons of high explosives and firebombs upon the beleaguered city. Fifteen square miles of the city center were utterly destroyed by the devastating firestorm that swept through the streets – the hot winds driving people back into the deathtraps that were their houses. The death toll was publicized to be as high as 200,000 by the Nazi-controlled German press in 1945, but subsequent estimates, including one supported by the city authorities in 2010, put the figure at 25,000. Even so.
2. Hamburg (September 1939-April 1945) – 42,600 killed
Much like Berlin, Hamburg experienced ongoing periods of bombing throughout most of the war. The city was a significant target for the Allied bombing attacks owing to the fact that it was an important port and industrial center and the site of major German shipyards and U-boat pens. The most severe bombing raid on the city came from a combined force of British and American bombers during the last week of July 1943. Operation Gomorrah, as the bombing mission was named, all but obliterated the entire city. The severity of the bomb blasts, which continued for eight days and seven nights, created a deadly “feuersturm,” the feared firestorm that reduced over eight square miles of the city to ashes. Some 3,000 aircraft took part in the raids, which left 42,600 dead and 37,000 wounded. It is estimated that a further 1,000,000 civilians fled the city. In total, 9,000 tons of bombs were dropped in an operation of such scale and force that mainland Europe had never seen the like of it before – nor has indeed since.
1. Tokyo (November 1944-August 1945) – 100,000-plus killed
The major strategic bombing of Japan by the USAAF began in November 1944 and continued until Japan’s surrender on 15 August 1945. The US had previously executed a minor bombing raid on the Japanese capital in April 1942; this early effort gave America a victory in terms of morale, but the bombing did not begin in earnest until more than two years later. When the powerful B-29 Super Fortress bomber came into service, the Americans made full use of it, putting its capabilities to extensive use over Tokyo. In fact, nearly 90% of the bombs that fell on Japanese home soil were dropped by B-29s. Of all the sorties over Tokyo, the raid of 9-10 March 1945, codenamed Operation Meetinghouse, was the most significant, and indeed is considered the single most destructive bombing ever. Around 1,700 tons of bombs fell on the city, destroying an estimated 286,358 buildings – made largely of wood and paper – and killing an estimated 100,000 citizens or more in the resulting firestorms. When the 1,000,000 injured and made homeless respectively are added to this figure, one begins to get a small sense of the sheer scale of destruction witnessed on those terrible nights of 1945.”
As it says in the introduction: “. . . . Here we are not considering the equally horrific and never matched atomic bombing raids on Nagasaki and Hiroshima; rather, we speak of the meticulously planned and often prolonged campaigns that razed cities to the ground and devastated entire urban populations.”
Our Brunch on a Sunday in August 2018
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I copy here what I wrote in last year’s blog including the comments to that post:
Sunday, 12th of August 2018
The soft boiled eggs that Peter cooked for breakfast were perfect. I ate my warmed up crispy bread-roll with the egg, I also had some fresh strawberries with strawberry jam on one half of the bread-roll. And I took all my vitamins. We both also had a great cup of coffee for our breakfast.
At nine o’clock we started watching the Insiders’ program on ABC TV. The politics that were discussed upset me a great deal. I mean I should be used to this sort of political talk by now where everything gets blamed on labor. But somehow it got to me today more than usual. I just could not keep my cool. Maybe I should stop watching these interviews where no question gets answered properly and were outrages lies are repeated ad nauseam. Soon Peter handed me a bit of brandy to calm my upset stomach. This bit of brandy that I sipped very slowly, actually made me feel a whole lot better.
Later on for brunch we had baked camenbert cheese with some bread and a glass of red wine. We also had a bit of vanilla ice-cream with apple sauce. Luckily my stomach had settled sufficiently, and I could enjoy this excellent meal. I enjoyed it very much indeed!
7 thoughts on “Sunday, 12th of August 2018”
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We forgot the ABC Insiders which is unusual. Just as well by the sound of it. Glad you made up for it by having such a lovely breakfast. We are finding that the ABC is so keen to remain neutral that it is now dribbling a lot of nonsense in its commentary, frightened to give an opinion, any opinion.
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Here you can watch the whole program, Gerard, in case you and Helvi are interested.
http://www.abc.net.au/insiders/sunday-12-august-full-program/10111188
“Barrie Cassidy interviews Energy Minister Josh Frydenberg, and Fiona Katauskas talks pictures with The Feed’s Jan Fran. On the panel are The Australian’s Niki Savva, Guardian Australia’s Lenore Taylor and The Saturday Paper’s Mike Seccombe.”
Barrie Cassidy and also the panel did not upset me. The Energy Minister chose not to answer certain questions. Do you expect anything else from politicians? Sometimes I just cannot listen to them anymore! But I understand that the person who is interviewing has to remain polite. I went out for a while to calm down. But I did watch the hilarious talking pictures. A bit of fun and laughing is definitely preferable!
What do you think of the “National Energy Guarantee” program?
http://www.abc.net.au/insiders/balancing-act/10111158
https://www.energy.gov.au/government-priorities/better-energy-future-australia
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Thank you Uta for the links.
Helvi watched the whole episode on my computer. She thought Frydenberg was weak. We feel that renewables are the only way to get cheap energy that will also guarantee lower emissions. It is ironic that Australia with its overabundance of resources now has some of the highest energy prices in the world.
Sadly the word ‘renewables’ has become a dirty word in our Government. Those without solar and batteries will increasingly carry the burden of coal fired energy and its maintenance.
What do you think will give us energy at a price that is affordable? I just had my electricity bill which was $410.- for three months. The last gas bill was about the same.-
Our recent electricity bill was a bit over 600 Dollars for three months, Gerard. But we use no gas. You’re right, only people who have solar and batteries can expect to pay less for power in the long run. Why does the government not want some of the old power stations to close? And why, oh why, do they even think of allowing new coal power stations to open? Surely no investor would want to invest in new coal fired power stations? Who owns the coal? Is it the government or some companies?
Surely, we have enough sun and wind in Australia for all our energy needs. We have sun and wind for free, whereas someone has a vested interest in all the coal reserves and wants to get some adequate profit from whatever their investments were.
I hate it that there are so many different energy companies now. The supply of energy and water should be in government’s hands only. The government should also have strict rules that our air and environment does not get polluted. But instead of looking after the needs of the total population in the first place, they are more interested in looking after vested interests and companies above all. Anyhow, this is the way I see this, and I am just an ordinary citizen without special knowledge.
You say that renewables are the only way to get cheap energy that will also guarantee lower emissions. I could not agree more!
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Your Sunday meals sound beautiful and yummy! Especially the eggs Peter made for you with love! 🙂
I try not to watch news or politics TV shows. But maybe I should. Usually they upset me too much. 😦
HUGS!!! 🙂-
It is kind of a tradition that we have soft boiled eggs on Sundays for breakfast. And usually it is Peter who enjoys boiling the eggs.
Hugs from Uta 🙂-
I haven’t met an egg…fixed any which way…that I don’t like. 🙂
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“A Ukulele Opera…” by Joe Carli
A Ukulele Opera…Act #3.
Enrico and Rosaline.
Joe, the narrator tells of Enrico’s story..:
“You see, he had only just landed at Outer Harbour in the year of 1939 when he was immediately informed that being an “enemy alien”, of Italian extraction he would be interned…but the company he gained work with as a stone-mason/bricklayer gave him a choice..; He could be interned with the rest of the Italians in the Riverland, or he could go to Darwin to do work that the company had contracts for there on the hospital and the wharfs…He chose the latter…but then when he was working there, Darwin got bombed by the Japanese and he had to make his way back down the centre to here with us other Italians.. as fate would have it…
“Guiseppi!…how would your luck be” Enrico exclaimed to me when he got here, “ I leave Italy to get away from Mussolini, and then I come here to get bombed out by Tojo!….where does one go for a bit of peace in this world?”
Anyway…here he was and here he would stay….at least for the duration…and ..like the rest of us, he wasn’t very happy with the option.”
Joe, the narrator continues..He reads from a sheet of paper….
“Now at last I am free!
Off through the scrub I run
Where sheep tracks only are seen
Nothing but bush and sun
Till all of a sudden I come
Out where an axe swings free.
Cutting, for love and money
The axe bites deep in a tree…”
“A passing moment does not a lifetime make, but a moment’s passion can be a lifetime’s mistake….or..good fortune. A life brought into being by the strangest union in the most unusual chances and circumstances one could imagine. He from the north of Italy, in the Dolomites, she from the ‘heartbreak country’ of the Murray Mallee in Australia..
They met on the banks of the Murray River, Enrico and Rosaline. He there to collect a truck-load of water for the camp, she on an evening ambulation from Portee Station where she worked as a servant girl.
He being able to speak barely a word of English, she not being able to understand a single word of Italian..But they met and exchanged pleasantries as only such ethnically diverse strangers could.”
He asked (in Italian) if they ate well at the big house…;
“Mangiano bene nella grande casa?”
She replied ( in English)..:
“ The evening light falling on the river spreads a certain calm over the waters…don’t you think?”
He was a stone-mason by trade.
She desired to be a poet.
They got on well, and in the intervening months, while Enrico’s English improved immensely, so did their congenial meetings..by now a regular, mutually agreeable thing. As the Spring weather became more and more pleasant and the days longer, Enrico would linger at his duties of pumping water into the tanker longer than was allocated by his roster and he was questioned by Joe on his arrival back at the camp..
“What do you get up to there by the riverside to be away for so long?” Joe asked.
“ I listen to the birds sing and observe the calming light on the waters”..Enrico answered.
“And this singing birdy you listen to..what is her name?” Joe cynically responded..
“Rosaline.” Enrico smiled.
Indeed, They did eventually wed..the youthful composer of the above doggerel ; Rosaline Thomas and the refugee Italian ; Enrico Corradini (whom she would call; “Ricky”). And as she describes her running through the scrub to meet with her lover, I can now ask, knowing the ending of her story ; Was she running to embrace life, or running from a desolate lifestyle?..And Enrico, the refugee , HE we know was running from hunger and war, but did he realise then as he surely did later, what and where was he running to?”
Enrico arrived at the Charcoal camp a week after Artini’s attemped escape and drowning in the Murray River. So the whole camp was in the doldrums over that affair. There was little appetite for getting to know any new arrivals at the moment..the whole camp ran on “automatic pilot” and Enrico was given the easy job of just going to the river twice a week to get a tanker full of water. It was on one of these trips that he met Rosaline.
The “unofficial” story surrounding their meeting and courtship is recorded in the family circle..It seems the erstwhile Enrico was out trapping rabbits one day and he got lost..only to stumble onto the dusty bush camp where, coincidently, the young Rosaline was in attendance to her mother ; Grace Thomas, who was expecting her fifth child. Rosaline’s father, having difficulty understanding the gesticulating “eyetalian”, instructed Rose to show him the track leading to the presumed wood-cutters camp from whence he came.
In truth, the information on the whereabouts of that family’s camp-site away in the bush from another charcoal-burning camp a couple of kilometres from Fox’s camp, and the fact that Rosaline would be at that camp-site on such a time of the month was passed to Enrico on one of their “accidental meetings” at the river’s edge..the trapping of rabbits was Enrico’s own innovation.
A week or so later, Enrico turned up again, rabbit traps in hand and lost again..the same procedure as last time was followed and that was that, until again..another week later Enrico shows up again, lost while trapping rabbits…this time, as Rosaline is leading the gentleman away, Richard Thomas scratched the back of his head in thought…he turned to his wife..:
“You know..that eyetie must be the worst trapper in the world…he’s never got one single bunny!”
Joe continues…;
“The camp that Rosaline’s parents were at was a couple of kilometres from our camp and it was run by a Slavic man named Jack…It was a rough camp of desperates and opportunists, with many accidents at the charcoal pit heads..for if those burns were not attended to or done right, they could suddenly explode into a shower of flame and sparks and set the whole camp aflame…Here, I will let Rosaline explain it from this poem she wrote of everyday life there..
“Also down in the camp,
The man are up and about,
Somebody waves a flagon,’
And another raises a shout!
Then a glass of wine is downed,
To help one through the day . . .”
So you can see, there was not much disciplined routine over in that camp and that is why Richard Thomas moved his family away into the scrub and pitched tent away from the men, as Mrs. Thomas and the young girls were the only women and children in the camp…So when Rosaline told Enrico she was going to stay with her mother because of the mother’s pregnancy, that developed into the occurrence of her mother having a miscarriage and Rosaline had to stay longer to both help with her mother’s recuperation and the schooling of the younger ones..so Enrico got to know Rosa and her family quite well over that time, with the family sometimes coming to play cards at the Italian camp..and then when Rosaline went back to work at Portee station, he resumed his job of going to the river to get water..and there he continued his courtship of Rosaline.”
Joe continues..:
“Now, the war is coming to an end..it won’t be long before the camp will be broken up and all these men will be able to go back to their dreams…but I wonder if those dreams will now become something different?….”
One afternoon, on the banks of the Murray River, Enrico and Rosaline sit talking of the future…The war is near an end and the Camp is due to be broken up…The Italians will be able to go back to their former plans and dreams…Enrico says to Rosaline:
“Rosa..what are we to do?…I will soon be sent back to the city..what will you do?”
Rosaline sat quietly looking over the river waters…then she spoke..not exactly TO Enrico, but to the quiet atmosphere around them both..:
“There’s an old German hand there at Portee who, whenever he has to cross the river on the punt to go to work on the other side, would pick up a small stone, a pebble, carry it across and place it on the other side….I once asked him why he did it….he was at first reluctant to tell me..but I persisted…
“Well, girlie”…( that’s what they all call young women out here)….”it is my own little thing…I think of the small stone as my soul,…you see, I cannot swim..and so I take the stone, carry it, and if or when I reach safely the solid ground on the other side, I leave it dzair….when I come back, I do the same”
“What happens if the punt starts to sink?” I asked.
“Dzen I will try to throw it with all my might, to the other side….and I think if it reaches there , then I feel I too will reach there…”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Dzen, I think I vill be lost in the waters of the river…” Rosaline stopped abruptly and looked to Enrico with a sadness in her eyes..“Will I too be lost in the waters of the river, Enrico?” she asked. “Will my life’s hope be as desperate as that little pebble..nothing but a hope of something better?”
Enrico took her hands and looked deep into her eyes…he then asked the question he had been wanting to ask for a long time….
“Will you come to the city to be with me, Rosa?…Come to the city and we can soon be married…if you will have me.”
“O’, Ricky..how can we marry?…you see where my family lives..how my family lives…in a bag tent in the Mallee..I have nothing, you have little as you have said yourself..How can we start a life together?”
Enrico clasps her hands tight..
“But, my love..soon I will be back in the city..I have a job promised to me by Joe..he is a builder there..I will make my money..if you can find work there, we can both start a new life together..”
Rosaline brightens up at the new prospect, this new hope…
“Dr. Hackendorf and his wife are good friends of the owners of Portee Station and the Doctor has said many times that I could work and board with them if I ever decide to come to the city to live…I’ll see if that offer still stands”…
Enrico moves to kneel in front of the sitting Rosaline takes hold of her hands and sings this song to her..:
“El canto della sposa”..:
“The house of my darling,
Is all made of bags,
But for me who wishes to go there ,
It is a palace of silk..” (etc.see : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-KqXtc0CFo )
Afterwards, they both go back to the camp, where they find the men there in an uproar at the news that Gemano’s fiancé has survived the war and has written a letter to Gemano…He rushes toward Enrico when he sees he and Rosaline arrive back from the river in the water truck…The opening music of Verdi’s “Requiem Dies Irae “ strikes up in the background ; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79tAD1UZ7m0
Gemano is waving a letter and crying out to the sky..
“She lives!!…she lives!!…my love is alive!…ahh, ha ha! ..she lives..” he drops to his knees and sobs.. “We have won, Enrico..we have both beaten death…for now…my love lives..she lives”
And he holds the letter up to Enrico who takes it gently and reads it..:
“Oh Gemano…truly you are fortunate…yes…she lives..” Enrico pauses, his brow furrows as he reads on..” She says here she now has a child…born during the war…”
“Yes, yes..I saw that..and she says she will only come to me if I accept the child as well.. what say you, Enrico…what do you think..”
“Do you still love her, Gemano?”
“Truly…more than I could say…so much more than I could say..”
“Then you must accept them both, Gemano…for they are both needing you as well..and who can say what has happened to those we left behind in that war…both you and I remember the last great war…so much killing of the young and old and raping of the women…the armies went up and down those valleys taking and using everything in their path so that none were spared..or none would survive..”…and he hands the letter back to Gemano…who takes it tenderly, folds it away into the envelope and places it into a top pocket…he then stands and takes out the old photograph he has of her..the stage darkens with a spotlight only on Gemano…he sings his song to the tune once again of ; “O’ mio babbino caro”…(I would also like to hear the soft strains of the ukulele mixed in tune with the symphonic music) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f59v8r1CBIo&list=PLabSmKXr9e_dZYdM61YNlQ40pRjjBPjYR&index=2&t=0s
“Now I will see my Sophia, (he holds her picture in front)
I still hold her picture so dear..
We will kiss at the station once more,
And I’ll put a white rose in her hair.
Just like this one I see here, (touches photo)
Now she is back I will kiss her,
Now she is back I shan’t miss her,
Once I see my Sophia,
I can’t believe she will be here,
I so want her to call my name,
Now I will see my Sophia,
Now I will hold my Fidanza,
We will kiss once more at the station,
I will put a rose in her hair, (Gemano strokes the picture lovingly)
I can hardly believe she will be here,
I so want her near me,
I will soon see my Sophia,
My love, My darling, my dear.”
I will soon see my Sophia,
My love, my darling, my dear.”
The music continues as the light slowly dims on Gemano, standing with his head bowed …
Joe the Narrator takes up the story…
“Ah…Gemano and Sophia…they did get married…by proxy..he here, she there in the old country and they finally joined together later when the ship brought her and her child to a new life here in Australia…and they had more children.
The camp was broken up not long after, and the men went back to their trades and work in the city and elsewhere…and look (Joe points to a heap of sacks left in a jumble at the back of the stage set ) there..in amongst the left over rubbish and sacks on their old life here..(He bends to pick up Gemano’s ukulele..it is battered and damaged and a couple of strings are broken) and see here..Gemano’s ukulele…what brought so much song and joy to so many nights in the camp..left to decay away with their memories…(he tosses it onto the heap of sacks) ..oh well..perhaps best it be so…so many dark days to walk away from…best it be so…”
Joe walks briskly off stage, whistling as he does so to the background music of “O’ mio babbino caro”…..
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5 thoughts on “A Ukulele Opera…Act #3.”
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Thanks for this link, Joe:
I like this music very much. And my intention is now to study all three parts of your Ukelele Opera. Some of it I read already and it makes me want to read and understand more! And there seem to be lots of refernces to great music . . . .
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Puccini’s music is so beautiful…thanks for this…
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Hello, Uta….it was late last night when I saw your comment..now I have time to answer better…Yes, the music is the thing..I wanted to orignally join in with someone who could read and write music to do a real opera rather than a “reading opera”…but coming from the trades, I had no reliable contacts to work with…so I had to borrow music and songs where I could and re-write words for them…But the story of those people is the thing, as it happened to some of my relatives in that very camp I write about..indeed, some of the “players” in the opera are my rlatives…It is a tale that had to be put down for posterity…good or bad, it had to be put on paper…Thanks for yours and Peter’s support, Uta..it is much appreciated
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Thank you so much for this answer, Joe. Yes, I thought that the story is based on some of your relatives experiences. My impression is, that Australia does produce a great number of very talented people in the arts. Joe, that you put your story not just on paper but also on the internet, may inspire some people to use it in a creative way as for instance in a ‘real’ opera! You did well, to try to put this story down for posterity. 🙂
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That generation were tenacious buggers…but I suppose coming from a great depression and two WWars, they had been through so much that a little more was not going to break them all…The ‘Gemano” in the story lamenting for his fiance back in Italy was a true event…where he came tto Aust’ with my father to get established but with the war, he didn’t hear anything of her for the duration..he didn’t know if she was alive or dead..so you can imagine the relief at the news…ah…I wonder if this new generation coming on has the “dig in and hold ground” tenacity of those of the past…I think there are going to be a lot of very lonely people around in the years to come…
Memories from our Visit to the Blue Mountains in July 2018
One year ago we spent some time in the Blue Mountains. Here are some pictures we took at the time:
https://wordpress.com/post/auntielive.wordpress.com/184
We had some Christmas in July Dinner where we stayed at the Echo Point Motel:
The Echo Point Hotel was in Kattomba only a few steps away from the Three Sisters:
We saw some cabbages in front Bygone Beautys Treasured Tearooms in the village of Leura within the Greater Blue Mountains World Heritage Area.:
So this is where we went for some delicious treats:
http://www.bygonebeautys.com.au/
We went inside and had some lovely tea. And we shared some nice warm apple strudel as well!
Memories: Our Travelling in June 2018
https://auntielive.wordpress.com/2018/10/10/aunties-diary-2/
In June 2018 we stopped at the
Common Ground Cafe & Bakery @ The Razorback Inn
From there we went to Picton to have a look at the GEORGE IV INN. We thought we might be able to stay there overnight.
As it turned out we stayed there only for a few drinks. We did have a look at their accommodation. But it was not to our liking for they could not provide us with any heating for any of the bedrooms.
So we stayed in a motel a bit outside of Picton where we had a large warm room with all the conveniences.
There was also dinner available on the premises, and so we had some excellent food and drinks there:
We checked out early in the morning and had breakfast here:
We rather liked this little town where we had breakfast. Then we drove on to Bowral.
The little town where we had breakfast was Tahmoor:
https://auntielive.wordpress.com/2018/10/15/memories-about-tahmoor/
Here I write about The Common Ground Cafe at the historic 1849 Razorback Inn:
https://auntielive.wordpress.com/2018/10/10/aunties-diary-2/
I just found this Blog in my Pages and want now to republish it once more!
Before I was three we lived in Taunus Strasse, Berlin- Friedenau. Some time during 1937 we moved to Bozener Strasse in Berlin-Schöneberg. This is where Tante Ilse and Onkel Addi lived as well and also my friend Cordula and her parents. Later on we did get to know Family T. who lived in the house opposite our apartment building.
During my early childhood Bozener Strasse was a very quiet street. There were no cars parked in the street.
Tante Ilse had this narrow but very long balcony with a lot of plants to water. As a two year old I loved to help with watering some of the plants!
Here Mum still has this “Bubikopf” which I believe became fashionable already in the 1920s.
In the next picture, which was taken in Bozener Strasse on 21st September 1947, my brother Peter is nearly six. I stand behind Peter. I turned thirteen on this day. My brother Bodo is on the left. He is nine. Beside him Eva Todtenhausen, who is going on twelve and beside Eva is Cordula who is twelve. Today I found out that Cordula died in July 2011, aged 76. This was very sad news for me. 😦
The above picture is from my birthday in 1940. We stand under the huge chestnut tree. Cordula spent part of the war outside of Berlin. She is not in the 1940 picture.
We took the following picture of Bozener Strasse during our Berlin visit in September 2012. It is still the same chestnut tree. But look at all the cars now!
Our apartment was on the third floor, Tante Ilse lived two floors further up. Mum quite often went up with me to visit Tante Ilse. One of my early memories is that Tante Ilse and Mum were lying under the bright lights of some tanning lamps (Höhensonne). They used some oil on their skin which smelled beautiful and made their skin look shiny. Their skin usually had quite a bit of a tan. They wore some protective dark glasses. Sometimes they made me lie under the lamp for a little while. I liked it when some of this nice smelling oil was rubbed all over my body. I too had to wear these dark glasses. I liked to wear them for a little while. But I was required to lie totally still. Very soon I did get sick of it, not wanting to lie still any more under the hot tanning lamp. I was then always glad when I was allowed to get up again.
I remember thinking that Auntie was a very beautiful looking woman with her very long curly hair. In the three way mirrors of her dressing table I remember watching how Auntie brushed her hair. It was very strong and long chestnut-coloured hair. Auntie usually brushed it slightly back so it stayed behind her ears. She often wore very long blue earrings. Oh, I loved the look of these blue earrings. They looked beautiful hanging down from Auntie’s ears! I think Mum did not wear any earrings, because her ears were covered by her hair. Mum’s brown hair was very fine and much shorter than Auntie’s. My hair was rather fine too. Mum always cut it quite short. I often wished that I could wear my hair longer but Mum would not let me grow it longer.
Both Auntie Ilse and Mum wore identical three big rolls of hair horizontally on top of their heads. The front rolls covered the top of their foreheads, the other two rolls were rolled behind the front roll. They often wore identical clothes, for instance light pink angora wool tops with identical grey suits.
Mum features her three big rolls of hair, I am already allowed to wear my hair long!
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Mum often called me ‘MAUSEL’ or ‘Mauselchen’, whereas Auntie liked to call me ‘HERZCHEN’ or ‘LIEBLING’. Dad sometimes said ‘HERZEL’ to me, but he usually called me by my name. Mausel is derived from Maus (mouse), Herzchen means ‘little heart’, Liebling means ‘darling’.
Cordula’s mum once told me, that her name meant ‘heart’ in the Latin language, but not to tell anyone otherwise some children would make fun of the name. I did not want anyone to make fun of Cordula. So I promised myself to keep the meaning of the name to myself.
My brother Bodo was born in June 1938. I think Cordula’s brother Tilwin was born a few months after that. Mum said that Tilwin was an extremely odd name. It turned out he grew up with very bright red hair. The children in the street teased him about his hair. As much as possible Cordula always stood up for her brother. I think for the most part Tilwin avoided playing with other children.
The Lepsius apartment was on the same side as our apartment, just two floors further up. (Auntie Ilse’s apartment was on the other side of the fifth floor). I often went up to the Lepsius apartment all by myself to play with Cordula. They had a ‘roof-garden’ (Dachgarten) above their apartment. It was the size of a big room and had no roof above it. I remember the sun shining right into it. The floor was concrete and along the walls were garden-beds . Cordula was allowed to look after her own little garden-bed.. Once Cordula’s Mum let me have a portion of a little garden-bed too! Cordula’s Mum and Dad were always kind to me. They made me feel welcome and included.
Cordula’s family had food that I had never seen before.. For snacks we children were often given some kind of brown flakes and raisins. Sometimes we were given dates or figs. I loved this food! My Mum thought it was strange to eat something like that. In Mum’s opinion this family was rather odd because they had lived in the Middle East for a while. Cordula’s father was an architect. My Mum called him ‘the Hunger-Architect’ (Hungerleider) since he seemed to get hardly any work in his profession.
Mum must have seen their apartment once for I remember her remarking how sparsely furnished it was. Mum found their choice of furniture quite odd. There were a great number of shelves stacked full with books. These shelves went from floor to ceiling. Herr Lepsius sometimes showed us children books with colourful illustrations. He also told us stories. We loved one story in particular which had a funny ending. We demanded to be told that story again and again. Each time we laughed our heads off and Herr L laughed with us. The story was about a beggar who knocked at the door of an apartment. A beautiful maid opened the door. Some time later the beggar knocked at another door of an apartment in the neighbouring building. And the same beautiful maid opened the door! We found the astonishment of the beggar very funny! Herr L explained to us, that a wall had been broken through to connect the apartments on that floor. This was actually where the family of Herr L had lived, when he was a boy.
Herr L was old and bald. He was about twenty years older than his wife. Quite a few years later Cordula and I went to the same high-school. We walked there together every morning. One morning I climbed up the stairs to Cordula’s apartment to find out why she had not come down yet to go to school with me. I rang the bell. Frau L opened the door. She was in tears. She did not let me come in but went with me to the top of the stairs. She said: “Our father just died; I haven’t even told Cordula yet.” She looked at me with despair in her face. I did not know what to say. She hugged me and then she disappeared in her apartment.
12 Responses to “Early Memories”
berlioz1935
June 3, 2013 at 10:54 am Edit #
The last paragraph is very interesting as you must have rang the door bell at a moment of great turmoil and grief for the L. family.
That gave me an idea and I Googled her and I must say I’m very sorry to say I have learnt that your friend Cordula has passed away in the European summer of 2011.
I will send you the notification by email.
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auntyuta
June 3, 2013 at 12:15 pm Edit #
Thanks for that, Berlioz.
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giselzitrone
June 3, 2013 at 7:08 pm Edit #
Hallo liebe Freundin wünsche dir auch einen schönen Tag wieder so schön geschrieben ja die gute alte Zeit man hat gute und schlechte Erinnerung daran,und alles liegt schon so weit zurück.hatte heute mal keine Lust viel zu schreiben,naher kommt jemand raus um den P.C. anzusehen manches mal stimmt was nicht ist immer was ärgerlich.Ich wünsche dir eine glückliche schöne Woche bei euch scheint sicher die Sonne bei uns ist Regen.Lieber Gruß von mir.Gislinde
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auntyuta
June 3, 2013 at 9:14 pm Edit #
Ja, hoffentlich hört der Regen bei euch bald auf. In vielen Teilen Deutsclands sind ja zur Zeit Überschwemmungen. Wir sahen es in den Nachrichten. Wir hatten auch wieder etwas Regen. Dieser wurde bei uns gebraucht, denn es fing schon an etwas auszutrocknen.
Na, dann lass mal deinen PC recht schön auf Schwung bringen!
Dann macht das Schreiben wieder Spass. Viele liebe Grüsse von Uta.
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likeitiz
June 4, 2013 at 4:34 pm Edit #
Lovely photos, Aunty. I guess back in those days the adverse effects of tanning salons was not known yet. You had gorgeous hair at 14 years in one of the pictures. Do you know where your friend Cordula is nowadays?
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auntyuta
June 4, 2013 at 4:59 pm Edit #
My husband Peter aka Berlioz made a comment to the last paragraph of this blog. It gave him the idea to research on Google where Cordula is nowadays. He found out the sad news that Cordula died in the European summer or autumn of 2011, aged 76. Sad news: 😦
Thanks for commenting, Mary-Ann.
I feel sorry that I had lost contact with Cordula over the years. The last time I had seen her was in 1986. I probably could have done more to keep in touch with her. All I know is that at the time her priorities were to give her two children the best possible start in life and to establish a business with her older and already retired husband.
The death notice the computer found for Peter in a church bulletin from October 2011. This was definitely a death notice for Cordula. It showed the correct spelling of her first name and double surname.
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WordsFallFromMyEyes
June 5, 2013 at 10:16 pm Edit #
You at 14 is wow. And your mother looks so lovely. I can’t imagine handling that many kids!
Re the oil over your body – I agree. I would have loved that 🙂
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auntyuta
June 5, 2013 at 10:31 pm Edit #
Funny you should think three kids is too many. Actually Tante Ilse thought so too. She thought two children would have been plenty, especially during times of war.
The oil, yes Noeleen, I really loved the smell. I can still imagine all the beautiful smells in Auntie’s bedroom. I am still very sensitive to smell. Some smells I love, others I detest.
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The Emu
June 5, 2013 at 11:07 pm Edit #
Beautiful yet sad memories Auntyuta, I see by one of the other comments that your friend Cordula passed away in 2011, a beautiful friendship spanning many years.
Emu
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auntyuta
June 6, 2013 at 12:18 am Edit #
Emu, thanks very much for your comment. I have so many memories about Cordula going as far back as 1937 I believe. It’s kind of strange that there are big gaps when she wasn’t around because of the war. There were some beautiful years of friendship after the war. However she was in a different school year and had not the same friends that I had. Maybe Lieselotte who was in my class, was the only mutual friend we had. Then her Mum died and she moved away to live with her aunts. Later on she lived in the Middle East. She wrote me beautiful letters. She had a good job. She married late in life. Had two children, sent me lovely photos of her family. She moved with her husband back to Germany. I only saw her once again for an afternoon visit. This was in 1986, such a long time ago! There’s so much I don’t know. Maybe there’s a chance to find out where Tilwin, her brother, is. The last we heard from him, he lived with his wife and two children in Düsseldorf. But this goes back maybe fifty years. Such gaps in time.
I can only say that I always thought that Cordula was a very special person. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I think she was filled with inner beauty. No, I’m not imagining this. This is how she was. I am sure she led a good life. You’re right, Emu, beautiful yet sad memories.
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DevonTexas
June 6, 2013 at 1:41 am Edit #
mein Mitgefühl für die Freundin. I’m pleased, however, that you are sharing these memories with us. I feel like I was there. Gute Woche!
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auntyuta
June 6, 2013 at 7:19 am Edit #
Thanks, Devon, have a good week too.
Some more Pictures from our Weekend at Sussex Inlet in June 2019
The above pictures I took early on Saturday morning on the 1st of June 2019.
On that weekend at Sussex Inlet, Peter and I as well as our daughter Monika remembered our arrival in Australia 60 years ago, that is we arrived at Port Melbourne on the 31st of May 1959 when Monika was barely 6 months old!
Monika’s partner, her two sons and three daughters (one daughter pregnant with her second child!) and also their partners and Monika’s 3 grandchildren and our 59 year old son Martin (Monika’s brother) were all cebrating with us. Still, there were a few other family members that could not come to Sussex Inlet on that weekend. But some we had been seeing earlier on in May. On the last weekend of June, that is this month, we are going to be in Newcastle to celebrate the 21st birthday of Martin’s younger daughter Lauren.
This is what I wrote in May after we had had quite a few visitors on Mothers Day:
“We had quite a few visitors yesterday for Mothers Day. Come to think of it, all the mothers that were visiting, were already grandmothers. And I am even a great-grandmother! I was so happy, that great-grandons Lucas and Alexander were visiting too yesterday! And Peter actually did hand out roses yesterday to all the visiting mothers. I think they liked this very much.
So, for about three hours in the afternoon we had a large crowd in our house. Daughters Monika and Caroline did most of the catering. This was very relaxing for me.
Monika had come with her daughter Natasha and her son Troy had come with his fiancee Antonina. Troy’s twin-brother Ryan and wife Ebony spent the afternoon with Ebony’s family, but Troy and Nina had brought their nephews Lucas and Alexander along to our plae. Caroline’s husband Matthew and Monika’s partner Mark had come too, and Mark had brought his mother Merl along.”
As far as the 1st of June is concerned, I reflected that on the 1st of June 1959 we had already settled into our accommodation at Bonegilla, Victoria. I wrote about it here:
https://auntyuta.com/2019/06/17/how-we-settled-in-australia/
AuntyUta 
What a harrowing experience! I hope people are not so quick to forget. There are no real winners in war. There are only casualties. European countries are wise to tread carefully not to disentangle their alliances. No one wants to Europe ripped apart by some lunatic or some crazy ideology.
There have been a lot of changes since the end of World War II. Has the world become more peaceful? Do we all work for peace? When we say we want peace on earth, do we really mean it?
Let’s count our blessings and be thankful for what has been given to us. But let’s not forget that a lot of people still suffer enormous hardship.
Thanks for visiting, dear Mary-Ann. Your comments show that you care a lot. Have a very beautiful Advent Season. Best wishes, Uta.
What an incredibly thrilling yet scary story! I’m amazed at your memories.
I cannot remember ever having been very scared as a child. But writing about it now makes me shake a bit. After more than 66 years I find it hard to believe that we could have been so lucky to escape unhurt!
Thanks for your comment, dear Munira.
Oh my goodness. What a vivid account. I know what you mean about being fascinated by adult conversation. I was the same way as a young child. Perhaps that is part of the reason that you had a bit of an adult-like perspective on the events at the time and yet saw it through the eyes of a child as an adventure of sorts. But my goodness–to have experienced so very much so very young. I am grateful that you and your family survived.
You’re spot on with your comments, dear Kate! As you say as children we could see it as an adventure of sorts. Mum was always quick too to make the best of a given situation. We lived in one of the cellar-rooms for the first few days after our building had been destroyed. It was spring already. During the day we had lovely sunshine. Mum and Renata acually anjoyed sitting in the sunshine on mats on the big heap of rubble in front of what used to be our house. They were happily remarking that they had a lovely time sitting there! I am not sure what day the Americans arrived in Leipzig, but I am certain it was while we still lived in the cellar. I was close to Mum and Renata when we noticed some planes flying above us in the clear sky. It happened to be the 20th of April. Mum as well as Renata very happily joked that the planes might be on their way to Berlin to give Hitler a birthday present!.
A lucky escape indeed… Your memories bring back mine. War is terrible… 😦
After the end of W W II we were under the delusion that wars could be prevented forever. We were so much longing for a peaceful world! We were dreaming that peace could last forever. My family was lucky that now for more than 65 years we could live in peace. I wished everyone had the chance to live in peace like this.