Lois Chronicles of a German Nurse 1945

By John H Berndt

These chronicles will appeal to those who have ever wondered how a woman finds the courage to cope in time of a losing war. They describe the ordinary happenings, as seen through the eyes of a young widowed nurse, at the close of World War II. This book is written in the first person and lets the reader experience the struggle and desperation of what a young Mother faces, as her the world as she knows it, is swept away.
This actual real life story portrays the last months in 1945 and the beginning of the East-German occupation. It is the time when Stalin’s shock-troops commit unspeakable atrocities.
The Historical Novel begins with Lois's pre-war naivete that six years later culminates in the realization that her life as she had known was based on lies. The reader is immersed into the frightening world of what it feels like being a woman where the victors demand their tribute. At that moment all previously held ideals are turned into terror, horror, fear, degradation and death. These chronicles are unique. They plumb the depths of Lois’s psychological state of mind, in that they portray the commonplace occurrences of women who are being immersed into a chasm of callousness and inhumanity. The victorious Soldiers subject the women through all kinds of hell. Despite the destruction of her world Lois and her fellow women find the courage to endure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John H Berndt
• Release date: Mar 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310235849

John H Berndt

My name is John H Berndt. This is my first attempt at writing a historical novel. The subject matter that I portray in ‘Lois Chronicles of a German Nurse 1945’ is based on real life stories that I heard as a child growing up in East-Germany. These accounts portray the psychological impact of how a woman feels as she is facing the unknown of a malevolent conquering army. I wanted to capture their anguish and suffering before it is lost and forgotten. Until she died, for the first three years of my life I lived with my great aunt in Soviet occupied Saxony. After her death my great uncle placed me into the first youth organization orphanage called Mitschurin (named after a Stalinist Botanist). The orphanage was run like an Israeli Kibbutz and it taught me fairness and equality in dealing with people. In 1954 the East-German government placed me with my grandparents in Thüringen. In 1959 I escaped to the west and during the sixties I attended the University of Wisconsin receiving an advanced degree in the Social Sciences. I functioned as the Supervisor of Adult Protective Services for thirteen years, working with a local Police department for twelve. Through my work I gained more insight into women’s psyche, particularly when facing unusual stress. Although I am relatively new to fiction writing, I have had considerable experience scripting grants and proposals. Being a member of the local authors group, as well as taking classes in creative writing has helped me greatly in penning this book. My wife and I enjoy Florida in the winter and traveling throughout Europe in the summer.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Homeward bound! I can’t believe it! It has finally happened, I am going home. HOME! During the last three months of my ordeal, I was never sure I would endure. This morning I have been released from the Breslau Military hospital where as a surgical nurse I was forced to care for Theresienstadt concentration camp survivors as well as teach Russian medics and Nurses the German operating techniques. Immediately after Germany capitulated and World War II ended, I along with women from my village had been conscripted to provide war reparation services to the Soviet victors.

At last my son and I, and the remaining fourteen women with me, have been released to go home. We have been disappointed in the past. All of us women are desperate to return to our homes, pick up our lives and try to figure out a future for our families. Normalcy that is all we want. No more fear of the unknown, and we hope that the future will try to stifle the nightmares that invade our sleep.

Today, the Third of September, 1945, is an expectant day as we are huddled in the back of a Russian army supply truck, on our journey home. My companions and I are sitting on our suitcases or ammunition crates. Our bodies are jostled every which way, as we feel every shell and bomb crater on the war torn roads back to Germany. However, I don’t mind. I’ll endure anything to see my house again. At this moment my companions are quieter than I have ever seen them. I wonder if, like me, they’re recalling the happenings of the last six years of war and the tumultuous four months since Germany capitulated.

My mind wanders back in time as I hold on to my son four year old son Michael, while the other is gently stroking through his hair. Thoughts are cascading through my conscience remembering the titanic transformation which has changed all our lives. Watching the countryside fade into the background, I am reminded of my first gigantic life change. It occurred in late August of 1939.

To my mind’s eye wasn’t it yesterday when I and three thousand other BDM girls, aged sixteen to eighteen, met all those young, patriotic soldiers at the German Commemoration Rally? It took place at the fabled Hermann-the-German Memorial, in the middle of the Teutoburger forest. This was the place where my future irrevocably changed. It happened in ten fateful days. Wistfully, I remember it as if it were yesterday. To this day, I still can’t figure out why, I, along with three other local BDM girls, was given the high honor to represent our home district at this rally. Three thousand young women were chosen to celebrate the first five years of the creation of what had been named the thousand-year Reich.

But what looked like an accolade at that time leaves a bitter taste in my mouth today.

I am small in stature, with dark brown curly hair, dark brown eyes and possess fine delicate facial features. Men say I am well rounded with large breasts and I lean towards being pleasantly plump. I possessed none of the athletic tall, blond, blue-eyed, slender attributes that were all the rage in Germany in 1939.

Nevertheless, I was considered a very active member of the BDM (Bund Deutscher Maedchen) an organization based on the American Girl Scout principals. I had been elected a leader in our local organization because I especially took pleasure teaching the younger members German folklore, cooking, and sewing. The BDM League of German Girls is where girls, once a week learned German lore, self-reliance, cleanliness, cooking, repaired uniforms, darned socks, and every other task that was expected of an upright German young woman.

What I liked best about the BDM organization was that I could be away from my father and my critical Aunt Doris every Thursday evening. No one, not a parent, guardian, nor a teacher, could forbid me to attend the weekly BDM meeting. Our meetings were held at the local NASDP (NAZI) party headquarters. In such designated areas all BDM girls ages eleven to seventeen gathered. Here we would plan camping and bicycle trips; but the best of all, we young girls could be ourselves. Of course we had to be seen praising German pride, cleanliness, and we had to make the Hitler Salute when appropriate, since a BDM supervisor was usually steering the group. On her eighteenth birthday, a BDM girl could join the young women organization BDF League of German women. It was the first time; young German women had their own organizations, free from parental interference.

In 1939, I was an untroubled country doctor’s seventeen-year-old daughter, selected to rejoice in the glorious future that was so clearly carved out for us by Dr. Goebbels at this young peoples’ gathering at the Hermann Memorial in the middle of the fabled Teuteburger forest. It was there that every NAZI dignitary with their stirring rhetoric, painted a fantasy extolling the virtues of the German nation and the greatness that would be our glorious future. Every detail was orchestrated and controlled by the NAZI party. As an impressionable teenager; I couldn’t help but be deeply moved by what transpired. After each speech we the young-chosen, cheered with uproarious enthusiasm. During those heady days, weren’t we told over and over again that the Fuehrer Adolph Hitler had spelled out a wonderful role that we young Germans would play in the ‘Reich of a Thousand Years’?

As my comrades and I arrived by train, we saw the fabulous Hermann Monument. It was a gigantic 120 meter high statue standing resplendent on a mountain top. This awe inspiring tribute could be seen from many miles away. It had for a long time provided soul-stirring spectacles for the NAZI party. Through them they orchestrated the embodiment of Germany’s superiority and pride. We gazed in wonder at Hermann the granite-hewn Germanic chieftain, with helmet and sword held on high, as he stood on top of the great swastika-flag-draped rotunda. Every German school child learned to regard Hermann as their greatest national hero. Hermann had been the chief of the German Cherusci tribe, who won a victory over the Roman army of Publius Quinctilius Varus in the Teutoburg Forest in AD 9. This battle, in which three Roman legions were destroyed, halted the Roman advance into Germany at the Rhine.

Remembering those ten days in late August 1939, I still feel the pride well up inside me. My three comrades and I had arrived from Guttau, my home village, along with three thousand other young women from all over Germany. We were all dressed in our brand new BDM or BDF uniforms. Of course all of us girls were terribly excited, all eagerly talking at once. Mainly we chatted about how the Fuehrer had taken charge of the country and how the rest of Europe was finally taking notice.

In my mind’s eye I still can see the meandering road that led through the forest up to the monument. At fifteen-yard intervals, staggered on both sides of the road, stood mounds of wood filled with straw, ready to be ignited at dusk. Between each space, stood a young soldier proudly wearing the uniform of the various German Wehrmacht forces or that of the SS. Each held in his outstretched hand either the traditional tri-color German flag or the new one, with the swastika. Shyly, we girls glanced at the splendidly immaculately dressed young men as we moved smartly on our way to the top. Each of us were very much hoping that one of them would throw a furtive glance at one of us.

Once we arrived at the top, we were all assigned to a different large tent. Each tent held thirty girls; all the tents were staked out straight as an arrow, ten in a row, with a communal mess and activity tent on each end. It was a glorious sight to see 250 tents staked out in perfect symmetry.

At sundown everyone was given a torch that we ritually lit while we all faced the colossal front of the rotunda. On our first evening on the monument’s second level, overlooking the assemblage stood Dr. Goebbels, along with high-ranking military officers. All of them stood ramrod straight, gazing benignly down into our enthusiastic countenances. I was transfixed by all the happenings around me. Our faces were bathed in the reflection of the torchlight. Today I can see that the electrifying atmosphere was staged in order to create in us the admiration to worship Adolf Hitler and the Fatherland.

That evening at 8:00 PM, we had been assembled in columns and rows. First to march out was the military band, after which came a file of one hundred young soldiers, followed by one line of one hundred BDM girls, until we formed symmetrically surrounding the front of the great rotunda. As dusk approached, the mounds of straw and wood along the road were lit, basking the gigantic statue

and us in reflective light. The lit pyres gave the impression that the Cherusci chieftain Hermann had come alive and was blessing the gathering of eager participants.

It was an exhilarating sight. Here stood the pride of young Germany in rows upon rows of young patriotic self-importance. One more time the army military band marched up in review, their uncompromising faces gleaming in the shimmering firelight while playing the Horst Wessel song. Dr. Goebbels was the first to speak. Even in 1939, to my mind, he looked more like a diminutive marionette. Oh, how this man could verbalize. With his voice he could weave visions of the impossible and make you believe the improbable is possible and attainable. Through his oratory, one quickly forgot his size and looks. With his dramatic voice he would weave pictures of a fantastic German future, filled with promise, portraying a most glorious destiny. His hypnotic visions swayed even the most reticent among us. He spoke of the duty that every German young person had to the Fuehrer Adolf Hitler.

He intoned over and over again, You chosen young people, be clean in body and mind, be a leader, and above all never ever forget that you are a German belonging to a proud race. What I remember most from his words was the recurrent theme that this bright new future needed us special Germans to be totally committed to the NAZI future. We were destined to be the vanguard that would lead the way to the glorious, greater, new Germany. He told us over and over again that it was necessary for all participants taking part in these commemorative festivities to have the sacred duty to become the heirs of the new Reich. Then he spoke directly at us young women.

It is each German woman’s responsibility to bear as many children as possible in order to bring forth the new Aryan Race. You are the chosen ones, preferred above all other young women, to lead the mighty invincible German Reich, a Reich for a thousand years to come, he said. Furthermore, he impressed on us that it was our sacred duty to find her man at these glorious festivities. He assured us that these soldiers at the monument represented Germany’s very finest and it would be any young girl’s greatest honor to marry one and bear such a warrior’s children for the fatherland.

At the end of Dr. Goebbels’ speech, we were ordered to introduce each other to the young man who stood directly behind us. Facing each other, we had to make a date for the next day. Before retiring to bed and lights out, the BDF women chaperons reminded us of what Dr. Goebbels had said. Each girl attendee had been given the opportunity to find a hero to be her husband.

After the first day’s regaling festivities, I went to bed much too excited to fall asleep. What a day it had been, but for me, extremely bewildering! After all, I had grown up in a small, strictly evangelical Lutheran village, and at seventeen I was still a virgin. I couldn’t help but wonder, had I just been ordered to find a man at this gathering to marry? Along with these thoughts as I lay in the darkness on my cot far from home, doubts and forbidden feelings stirred within me. Additionally the intermittent soft harmonica and accordion notes, sprinkled with good-natured masculine laughter from neighboring tents, made me more aware of the alluring temptations.

What I witnessed the very next morning gave me even greater misgivings. It rattled the boundaries of my naiveté. Barely shielded by temporary blanket walls, young men and women shared the same bathroom facilities. Others showered together nude, laughing while splashing each other. Such behavior was not tolerated in rural Saxony. It led to increasing my inner confusion and turmoil.

One of my tent chaperons stood unabashedly bare from the waist up. She was having a lively conversation with a muscular young marine. I could see that he had taken a keen interest in her exposed breasts rather than listening to what she was telling him. All this good-natured bantering around me, made me wonder if perhaps some of my provincial ideas and rural upbringing might have been all wrong. I gazed about me with the inquisitiveness of a school girl. Suddenly from nowhere, I felt a hesitant tap on my shoulder. Startled, I turned and to my surprise I saw a fully dressed young pilot cadet standing in front of me. He was the one I had been made to introduce myself to last night. At the introduction I had been shy and flustered. I had failed to look at him properly and his name did escape me now. He on the other hand had remembered mine and now this handsome young stranger asked me if I would like to go and have breakfast with him. Embarrassed and tongue-tied I came slowly out of my self-induced paralysis. I stammered with no coherent words escaping my lips, mortified I nodded yes.

Measuring him for the first time, it was his appearance that appealed to me most. He had a fine-boned, thin, and wiry frame, slight and small in body, unlike the big, rough-hewn farmer boys from back home. In his close-fitting Air Force uniform, he oozed fine breeding and culture. (Now, just remembering that first moment still makes my face burn!) This handsome pilot cadet had the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever laid eyes on, plus he had those cute crinkles in each corner of his mouth. In addition, his curly blond hair framed a sincere face with a devil-may-care smile that would spin any young girl’s head in an instant.

Off we went to the mess tent and after a bit of small talk we quickly re-introduced ourselves all over again. He told me his name was Henri Maier and in the same breath he said that he came from Berlin. Then he enthusiastically gushed out that he could fly anything that had wings and a motor.

I told him my name is Lois Vogel and that I was in my second year studies to become a surgical nurse. Even today my heart still skips a couple of beats as I remember how flattered I was, so quickly getting attention from a big- city boy and a dashing pilot no less.

After our breakfast together I quickly lost my initial shyness. Henri was so easy to talk with and he had this infectious boyish eagerness chatting about airplanes and flying. After that morning I spent most of my free time with Henri. Wherever we went we saw many new couples that were frolicking in this forced atmosphere and were rapidly getting to know each other. We also became part of this gigantic, whirlwind, courtship cavalcade. Three days after our arrival, several of my tent-mates either didn’t sleep in the tent anymore or didn’t come to bed until very early in the morning. I still clung to my virtue, but it was getting harder to maintain each time Henri and I went walking alone in the woods.

During the sixth day Henri and I decided to take a leisurely walk through the fabled dark green pine forest. Remembering that fateful afternoon I was plagued by a bad headache. It was Henri who suggested that we should take a walk in the fresh pine air. After about half an hour of walking, we had found a secluded spot, overlooking a beautiful gorge, with a picturesque river down below. Around us were tall, perfectly groomed pine sentinels swaying softly in the late summer breeze, giving off their barely noticeable pine perfume. Each row of pines was laid out perfectly straight, like soldiers on parade and all appeared to be striving to touch the matchless blue sky.

We had decided to sit on a large flat black granite rock ledge letting our legs dangle over the edge talking while taking in the idyllic view. In order to shake off my headache, I kept kneading my temple and bobbing my head side to side. Precipitously I felt two small but powerful hands on my neck, massaging and kneading it. Then these hands went up and down my spine. His unfamiliar touching made me tingle all over. Quickly, almost furtively, as if by accident, those hands reached under my BDM blouse and were cautiously searching for my breasts. I stiffened, at this extraordinary forbidden but sensitive touch. Then his ardor-filled rasping voice filled my ear as he kept whispering over and over again, I love you Lois, I love you Lois…you are the only girl for me. Then it happened.

With so much youthful passion in us, how could I deny his blue innocent eyes anything? To my disappointment, it was all over in a flash. Henri kissed me a couple of times on the mouth but without that previously shown eagerness. Then quickly he started to gather up his clothes and looked for a cigarette. At that moment I kept thinking, I have been saving myself for this experience for seventeen years? If this is all there is to making love, then the adults in my life have made too much fuss about this illicit delight.

After what should have been a momentous occasion I felt strangely unfulfilled, something was lacking from what should have been total exhilaration. Maybe the downfall was my strict upbringing and general country girl naiveté. In my dreams I had expected church bells ringing, bands playing, thunder and lightning, but here all I felt was sort of a creeping letdown and general disappointment. We both used Henri’s military handkerchief to wipe up any tell-tale stains. I grabbed my handkerchief out of my small purse and tucked it into my underpants to stem the slight bleeding that was still occurring. Slowly reflectively and shamefully I dressed.

Hand in hand, we walked back to the tents while Henri kept up an energetic chatter. He often told me how much he loved me and how this had been the greatest day in his life, nothing would ever equal it. It was he who reiterated over and over again how fantastic, and right we were for each other. Full of exuberance on the way back, he kept kissing me on my hands, my neck, and my face. I on the other hand, was totally confused, bewildered, and unappeased by this whole experience. With all my being I wished my mother was still alive so I could have shared my confused frame of mind with her.

As I showered later that evening, one of the BDF chaperones saw some dried blood on the inside of my left leg. It had oozed out and I had not caught it when I took off my underpants. Right away she asked if Henri and I had made love. Her questioning shocked me to the core. For a moment as I stood under the water-spray I felt more naked than I ever had before. Standing dumbfounded and silently in my uncertainty, I couldn’t deny that it happened. Rapidly events swirled around me beyond my control. Surprisingly, I found myself the center of attention. The three chaperones from my tent, and also the girls who just were present in the shower area, hugged and congratulated me. The way everyone acted, one might have thought I had just won a gold medal at the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games.

A short time later to my embarrassment and total amazement I found myself engaged to Henri. I remember how we girls, led by the chaperones, marched over to Henri’s superior’s quarters. Henri stood in front of a folding table, flanked by two swastika flags. His eyes were downcast and he looked bewildered. Behind the table sat his commander, a major and next to him sat the supervisor of the BDF chaperones. Showing a great deal of interest, a couple of NSAPD (Nazi) party representatives stood over at the side watching the events that were about to unfold. The major and the BDF supervisor each took a turn and began to speak about the virtues and sanctity of German marriage. The two made it very clear that by our action we now had a sacred obligation to maintain the ‘Sanctity of the State’. It was made unequivocally clear to us that Henri and I had now become part of the vanguard to forge the spearhead which would be forming the great and glorious future of our new German Fatherland. In order to fulfill this treaty, all we had to do, as the first step, confirm our engagement with a promise to marry within the year. We looked at each other and at once realized that our free will had been taken away and there was no choice but to comply.

As soon as we had made our pledge, the two party officials benevolently smiled. They rose in unison, first congratulating me and then Henri. They lauded us on our adult decision and ended up wishing us happiness for the future. One of the NSAPD party representatives taking charge, stood in front of us holding three books. The first book, entitled Conduct of the German Woman in Marriage, was given to me. The second and third books, The Superiority of the German People and, of course, Mein Kampf, went to Henri.

It was there that we were told that we had become part of six hundred and seventy-four engaged couples. Furthermore, in order for this Reichstag commemorative gathering to be the great success, at least four hundred more couples were expected to follow our lead. The NSDAP party official proudly told us he would be reporting these numbers to the Fuehrer. He stated that the Fuehrer himself took a great personal interest in this event. Then he told us the only reason that the Fuehrer couldn’t personally attend is that he had urgent international matters which kept him away. However, we’re invited to be present at a gala engagement party, with champagne and dancing that would be given by the NSDAP, to honor our commitment to the Fatherland. We were to be the crowning jewel on the final evening of the rally. Many party dignitaries, including Reichsmarschall Hermann Goehring, were expected to be on hand to personally wish all the couples success and happiness for the future.

Henri and I spent the next couple of days trying desperately to get to know each other. We went on long walks where we discussed our respective families. Most importantly we shared our hopes and our plans for our future. From Henri, I learned that his family owned a beer distributorship in Berlin. According to Henri, his father, Hans, was big and brawny, drank a lot, and was given to outbursts of temper. He told me that he and his father most times didn’t get along. Henri’s description of his mother was very different. She was a very pretty woman, slight of build, delicate, the direct opposite of his father. When Henri spoke of his mother I saw right away that he adored his mother, Elfriede, very much. Whenever he spoke of her, his face would light up. He spoke proudly of her accomplishments. She had attended the Handelschule (Business School) in Berlin and helped todevelop his father’s beer-distributor business using money she had received from her parents and grandparents. His mother financed Henri’s first car as well as his sport-airplane.

Henri told me that as a boy he had never liked school. He had studied at the Berlin Humboldt University for two years before dropping out in order to attend the Luftwaffe officer training school. Since he already had his sports pilot’s license, it was only natural that the Luftwaffe would take him. He was being trained as a Stuka pilot and when I failed to give the standard ‘I-am-so- impressed!’ response, Henri looked perplexed. I explained to him that I had no idea why any airplane could fly. Further I told him, Why would anyone be so reckless as to get in one of these contraptions since they are held together by spit and luck. Henri, nonplussed at my ill-considered outburst, patiently and enthusiastically explained, in mind-numbing detail, why he loved to fly. Feigning interest, at the end of his impassioned discourse all that I understood was that he was training to fly a plane called a Stuka dive bomber. That it was equipped with two terrifyingly loud sirens.

Hesitantly, because of my comparative boring background and in a voice filled with embarrassment, I began bit by bit to tell Henri about my family. I started out by telling him that my father’s name was Kurt Vogel and that he practiced medicine as a country doctor in Guttau, a medium sized ancient village near Bautzen, in Saxony. As difficult as it was for me, I started to tell him about my mother Elsa. Then my tears flowed freely. Five years prior, in June she had died of cancer and I still missed her so very much. My mother and I didn’t have the traditional mother-daughter relationship. She had been my confidante and my best friend. We would share and talk about anything. No subject was taboo. What I loved most about her was that I never received a judgmental or degrading response. Through my tears I explained, my mother and I had developed our special bond since my father’s work called him often away from home to minister to the needs of farm families in the outlying area. It had been an awful blow for me when my mother died and to this day nothing in my life had taken her place. At that moment Henri tentatively took me into his arms and I found comfort and reassurance by him.

Telling him about my father, on the other hand, was much easier. Dad was always stern, serious, and correct in everything he did. Even today I blame my mother’s death on him. He was always busy saving other people, but selfishly I saw that he couldn’t take the time to save his own wife. After my mother’s death, my father had become more remote and grave keeping to himself. He widened his practice in order to spend even less time at home. I further explained that my father’s maiden sister, Aunt Doris, had moved in with us, to keep house.

After each walk Henri and I returned to our special place, sitting on what had become our special rock. Blissfully we overlooked the peaceful valley. This view gave us a feeling of harmony. At the same time it provided the impetus to talk about creating our perfect marriage. We made love in this idyllic setting, among the fragrant pine needles a few more times. I felt we did it more out of necessity, as if the act itself was the reaffirmation of belonging to each other.

During each evening’s meal all newly engaged couples’ names were called out by a military herald. Each supper was interrupted by many new names. Every new committed couple was welcomed with rousing cheers and thunderous applause. Of course it was helped by the traditional toast of beer which lubricated the gathering. The soldiers and air men cheered each announcement and left the mess hall at best a little tipsy or at the worst, very much intoxicated.

All engaged couples were ordered to attend family classes where we received strict spousal and household instructions. These directives were imparted to us by party officials. They spelled out in detail what our duties were to be in the service of the glorious Fatherland. It was reiterated at great lengths that our engagement was a binding contract. This bond we not only made to each other, but also to our glorious leader Adolph Hitler.

At about 7AM on the First of September, our last day of the jamboree, I was awakened not to the penetrating notes of the bugle call, but by a rousing military march. The music blared at full volume over the loudspeakers for the next fifteen minutes. The announcer did broadcast the shocking news, that, Today on the first of September the Fuehrer had determined that he had no choice but to give orders to the German Wehrmacht to free the German people in Poland. It concerned mainly those Germans in the communities that had been given away as reparation at the end of the Great War. The announcer further stated that these German citizens had been terribly abused by the Polish people since the first war had ended. Today the isolated former German cities of Stolp and Danzig are about to be freed from Polish abuse. The announcements continued, saying that the victorious German Wehrmacht was succeeding in setting everything right by recovering the former German lands.

After a momentary silence, it seemed as if all the dikes of pent up emotions broke loose. Every soldier, marine, airman and particularly the SS corpsmen, cheered like madmen, throwing their hats or any part of their military uniforms into the air. Everyone was hugging. The men were slapping each other on the back, shouting and cheering. My Henri ran up to me excitedly shouting, Lois did you hear, isn’t it great, we are going to war. We are going to teach the rest of Europe a lesson that will now rectify this miserable Versailles treaty! I had great misgivings because in the back of my mind Iknew that soldiers and even airmen get killed in war. Henri was so excited that he kept shouting over and over again, I hope my squadron gets to see action before this war is over, I am ready and willing to go. They have to send me to the front because I am the best pilot the Luftwaffe has!

Thinking back now, I remember that throughout that closing day everyone was much too excited to do anything constructive. The huge gala engagement party turned into nothing but toasts of champagne, beer, and wine. Everyone cheered the war. The brilliance of the Fuehrer was extolled over and over again, and of course every unending toast was hailed with ‘Heil Hitler!’ The champagne glasses and beer steins were never empty that evening. So many cheers, so much jubilation mixed with drunkenness. Everyone was dancing to the military band, playing waltzes and foxtrots leaving most attendees in a happy state of inebriation.

Reichmarschall Herman Goering had visited briefly as the most celebrated guest of honor. In his resplendent, many-medaled white and gold uniform he paternally looked over this gala affair. He along with other high ranking officers and NAZI Party dignitaries sat behind tables on the stage observing us. As I looked up to them I could see they were bathed in a glow that exuded nothing less than paternal kindness. Watching them closely I could see that for the most part, they remained sober. They looked over to us with self-satisfied vanity. At the stroke of midnight the military band stopped playing and the officers called for everyone’s attention. Quickly the laughter and party noise died down. The commanding Waffen-SS colonel stood up and began by saying, With the Reichmarschall’s permission (bowing to Hermann Goehring), it is my high privilege and great honor to announce the new promotions as well as the duty roster for the men who have been called for immediate service.

A great cheer and the ‘Heil Hitler’ salute, as well as wild applause, went up for each promotion handed out. The same occurred as each name that was called to serve at the front. My Henri looked so disappointed when his name wasn’t called. As I gazed at his crestfallen face and against my better nature, I felt sorry for him. After the last name had been called and the turbulence had died down, we all started to file out.

I decided to take Henri by the hand and I led him to a grassy knoll I had spied out in the dark. I sought the welcoming forest soothing air. Recalling that night, it was a beautiful sight. The stars looked like millions of diamonds that were sprinkled on a velvety black blanket that completed the moonless night sky. Here and there one could see the gentle swaying tops of the black pines. The rich pine perfume that wafted through the air was intoxicating. It seemed to me that these tall dark swaying sentinels, with their forbidding blackness, indicated the ominous future of what was to come. This feeling was quickly dispelled as the musical melodies of accordions, guitars and harmonicas drifted over me from the distance. They gave the impression that all was right with the world.

While I was nestled against the trunk of a giant pine, I took Henri’s head and cradled it in my lap, tracing the outline of his face with my fingers, stroking his hair and neck ever so gently. When he started to rant and rave in his drunken state about how unfair life and the German Luftwaffe had been to him. Such an oversight was really unforgivable. I bent down and kissed him softly on the lips and cooed to him as you would to a child. I kept saying There, there you will get your chance, just have a little patience. They know you are the best and you will be chosen as soon as you are needed. Remember you still have six weeks to finish your Air Force Academy training. We stayed like that until the sun started to rise. The dawn was everyone’s signal to break camp. We had to pack as we needed to part ways.

It became an emotion-laden morning. As soon as the packing started, so did the tearful goodbyes. Almost all the young women had tears in their eyes. Some were so broken up they needed help getting ready. Others moved as if they were in a trance. Henri assisted me with my packing as his group would not leave until the afternoon. While we were packing, we rehearsed how we would break the news of our engagement to his parents and my father. In order to meet his parents we decided that I would see him in two weeks in Berlin. Henri thought it best that I come alone. We determined that we would combine his graduation party with meeting everyone in Guttau. It was to be my opportunity to show him off as a brand new Luftwaffe officer and my husband-to-be. The event would be taking place at the end of November.

As we parted, I cried and Henri looked like a little boy lost, unable to say or do anything. We hugged furtively, and with a quick parting kiss, I left him standing on the train platform.

On the ride back to Guttau, I had my three comrades to myself again. Since all of us had been assigned to different tents with different activity schedules, we had little opportunity to see each other at the jamboree. Elsa and Frida had also become engaged, Elsa to a Marine and Frida to a Wehrmacht Lieutenant. Only Ilse had remained without a firm relationship. Elsa kept crying and saying over and over again that her father would kill her as soon as he found out she was engaged. Only Frida seemed to be blissful and happy. I also had misgivings but we all gave words of support to terrified Elsa. Everything had happened so quickly, none of us girls had been given an opportunity to think about our actions. What was I going to say to my father? In my imagination, I could hear what he would say and how accusingly he would look at me with condescending eyes. Out of common need and the anxiety the three of us felt, we reciprocally started to console one another. To further bolster our sagging spirits and resolve, we jokingly reminded one another of the binding contract we had made with the Fatherland. Elsa asked, Would this contract stand up against bullheaded fathers and strong mean-spirited older brothers? We half-heartedly laughed at this question but real answers failed us. Then normal girl-talk took over. We had fun discussing the many new individual and strange occurrences each of us had experienced those fateful days. In no time at all, I found myself facing my home and the front door.

Chapter 2

As soon as I walked into my father’s house, I knew something was wrong. Instead of being greeted at the door, my aunt was sitting on the old dark brown wooden bench in the entrance area. It was that portion of the house designated as the patient waiting area. Aunt Doris grim faced did not ask, How are you, did you have a good time? as would be customary. Instead she pointed to my Dad’s study and said He is in there, waiting for you. He has been pacing up and down for half an hour. He is really angry, you better see him right away before he works himself into a rage. Do you know why a couple of NASDP officials would have stopped today at the house? I shook my head and with my heart in my throat I hesitantly opened the door to my father’s study.

My Father, Dr. Kurt Vogel, Physician, full of fury stood leaning against the fireplace, making his five foot five frame seem gigantic. In his balled hand was the copy of our daily newspaper. As he saw me he just motioned with his index finger for me to sit down. At first I wondered whether I should go to him and give him the traditional peck on the cheek. However, looking at his scowling face with his black bushy eyebrows almost knotted together, I thought better of it. Quickly I sought refuge in one of the two overstuffed chairs by the sofa. He handed me the copy of the newspaper and in his most severe tone of voice he began to speak to me.Have you seen this, is this true, whatever possessed you to do a dumb thing like this?

As I glanced at the newspaper I spied our engagement announcement. My mind was reeling: How did this happen? Who would be so bold as to put this announcement in the paper without consulting us? Flabbergasted I responded, No I haven’t, I swear to you I had nothing to do with this.

I suppose the next thing you will tell me is that you had nothing to do with getting engaged? Don’t bother to deny it; two Nazi party members were already here this morning congratulating me on your upcoming marriage. I just hope for your sake you know what you are doing? This new regime has set itself up to be the parent, and as your father I have become powerless. The way these two talked to me, they made me understand that the almighty state and Chancellor Hitler now have the final say in this house.

His cruelest remark came last from his lips, I am glad your mother isn’t alive to witness this debacle. I was totally stunned. It took all my will power not to burst out crying.

Father continued, What do you know about this young man? Without waiting for an answer and shaking his head, he said, To start a marriage in these uncertain times at so young an age is crazy. On top of that I have been told there is nothing to be done about it. I watched him wrestling with his emotions and in an air of resignation, he asked, When am I going to meet this young man? Remembering back, I was visibly relieved at this turn of events. I had expected more of my father’s customary long lectures.

Later that evening, the three of us listened to the radio in the living room. The airwaves were filled with the news of the fighting in Poland. Father kept making remarks to the effect that this war would not turn out in the way everyone expected. While we were deep in our own reflective thoughts, the telephone rang. Startled, I picked it up. The unfamiliar voice on the other end had a deep resounding baritone. He introduced himself as Hans Maier. As he continued introducing himself and spoke with me, I immediately felt at ease. He began by telling me how happy he was that his son was engaged to a wonderful girl. I felt the sincerity in his masculine voice. After he finished inquiring the appropriate questions of me, he asked to speak to father.

As the two of them talked on the phone I stood close to father in order to observe his reactions. Dad’s demeanor visibly softened after a few moments. The two of them spoke together on topics ranging from; how nowadays young people are much too impulsive and that the Nazis had supplanted family control. It wasn’t much later father hung up the phone. Nothing else could be read from his bearing as he said, Lois, in two weeks you will be traveling to Berlin to meet with your finance’s family. Isn’t that the same time your nursing school starts again? Tell me, now that you are marrying into an obviously wealthy family and to an officer, will you be dropping out of school? Shaking my head vehemently, I responded, It has always been my dream to become a nurse and at mother’s death bed I promised her that I would. Nothing in this world is going to break this promise or my resolve. My answer appeared to mollify him.

The next two weeks flew by like the wind. Neighbors came over, as well as girlfriends and other acquaintances. Having heard the news, all of them wished me well on my good fortune and upcoming nuptials.

Quick as a wink, I found myself arriving at the Berlin main train station. As I left the train I was jostled a couple of times at the platform. It was teeming with men in uniform. All of them looked severe and purposeful. They exuded an air of determination and appeared to be in a hurry.

Looking at this uniformed swarming mass, my apprehension and fear soared to new heights. I felt lost and totally overwhelmed in this ocean of military men. Frantically I searched for my friendly face. Panicky, I finally spied Henri in the distance. We ran toward each other and met next to the huge black monster locomotive that had brought me to him. To my consternation instead of kissing me passionately, or hugging me, he took my hand and shook it as if I was a friend. This was not the lover I had pined for. I must have looked crestfallen and nearly in tears because he tried to make amends by awkwardly taking me into his