Elfie: A Story of Love & Tragedy

By Wolfgang Hoffmann

This novel is based on the real-life story of the author, only some names have been changed. It begins in 1929, in a small rural village near the northern edge of the Black Forest in southern Germany. During the annual visit of the Gypsies from Hungary, the Gypsy matriarch tells his mother of her boys future.

He was to be endowed with talent for art and have good hands, perhaps become an engineer. His life would be filled with love, good fortune but also tragedy, which would have great influence on the building of his character. As a young man he would leave the safety of his surroundings and cross a big water.

This book is dedicated to the memory of a great love, which passed many cruel tests, but lives on to this day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 18, 2005
• ISBN: 9781452078489

Wolfgang Hoffmann

He is an accomplished mechanical engineer with over 20 patents and a published poet.  The poem is called SUNRISE AGAIN published in the book called VOICES IN THE HEART. He is also an accomplished painter specializing in California landscapes in both oil and water color.  Favorite subject is Yosemite National Park.

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© 2005 Wolfgang Hoffmann. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 01/10/05

ISBN: 1-4208-1732-9 (sc)

ISBN: 1-4208-1731-0 (dj)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-7848-9 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Chapter One. Synopsis

Chapter Two. Hitler builds a new Germany.

Chapter Three. World War II breaks out.

Chapter Four. Life in Poland.

Chapter Five. 1943, A Year to remember.

Chapter Six. Run, the Russians are coming.

Chapter Seven. A miracle, followed by tragedy.

Chapter Eight. Crossing the big water, just like the Gypsy predicted.

Chapter Nine. California, another place to remember.

Chapter Ten. Stranded behind the Iron Curtain. Courtesy, the U.S. Consulate in London.

Chapter Eleven. Our Dream-Journey, Finally.

Chapter twelve. Stranded behind the Iron Curtain, courtesy the Communists.

Chapter Twelve. Lucky to be alive.

About The Author

Chapter One. Synopsis

This novel is based on the real-life story of the author, only some names have been changed. It begins in 1929, in a small rural village near the northern edge of the Black Forest in southern Germany. During the annual visit of the Gypsies from Hungary, the Gypsy matriarch tells his mother of her boy’s future.

He was to be endowed with talent for art and have good hands, perhaps become an engineer. His life would be filled with love, good fortune but also tragedy, which would have great influence on the building of his character. As a young man he would leave the safety of his surroundings and cross a big water.

Hans grows up during Hitler’s construction of the Great New Germany and experiences all the good and evil things which happened during this period, eventually leading to World War II. Being the oldest of seven children was not always easy. Fortunately, as the Gypsy predicted, he had artistic talent, which was a special delight for his Grandmother, who became his friend and mentor.

She was joined by Helmut, his nephew, who would play the part of best friend and who was always ready to help, both getting into and out of trouble. He had artistic talent as well and the two often spent their spare time painting, rather than chasing girls, preferred by their contemporaries.

Shortly after the invasion of Poland, his family moved to Poznan, a major City near the western border with Germany. Having been under-weight during his childhood, he was sent to summer camp each year as part of the new German Health-Care Program.

In the summer of 1943 he was shipped off again, but now fourteen, he was sent to live with a farm family in Eastern Prussia for six weeks. It was here, where another prediction of the Gypsy woman seemed to come true. He developed a deep love for Elfie, the daughter of his Home-stay family’s relatives.

It was a pure and innocent love affair that lasted all summer and made going home to Poznan a real heart-breaker for Hans and his first love. The year passed slowly, but good fortune was with them. When the summer of 1944 arrived, Hans’ wish somehow came true and he was sent off to the same family in East Prussia and his teenage sweetheart.

Even the parents noticed, this was not just temporary infatuation, it was real deep love these two kids felt for each other. That made saying good bye the second time even more difficult, especially with the Eastern Front and the Russians moving closer every day.

In mid January 1945 Hans’ family packed and ran to a waiting train to flee back to Germany with the Russian Army only a few miles from Poznan. Hans’ was heart-broken, not knowing what happened to the girl he loved, her home now being occupied by Germany’s arch-enemy. What made it worse, Elfie had no idea where to find him in Germany, since they never talked about the time he lived there. Hans became a loner, not spending any time with boys his age except his best friend Helmut.

On his way for a walk in the forest, he stopped at his Grandmother’s house for a chat. She was surprised, he wasn’t even going to join the dance at the harvest festival, an annual event in October. At her urging he agreed to drop in for a while.

There across the dance floor stood his Elfie. Miraculously, she ended up in his little village, the niece of the new local Priest. He had just replaced the retiring Father Schurr, who spent his entire Priesthood there. The immense happiness was very brief. Two months later, Elfie ends up in the hospital with Ovarian cancer. Only four months after an operation, she dies just two days before Easter, when the two were going to be together to celebrate the big holiday.

Devastated, Hans wavers for months on the edge of suicide. Only the great support from his Grandmother and a strong faith keeps him alive to full-fill yet another prediction of the Gypsy.

In the summer of 1954, he packs his bags and crosses the big water to immigrate to Canada and start a new life, always carrying the memory of Elfie with him. At times hoping , there would be such a thing as re-incarnation and Elfie would someday be back again. The years pass without such things happening, until one day, during a business trip in London, England.

It was the 16th of February, which happened to be Elfie’s birthday, a day he never forgot. Having breakfast at his hotel, he was thinking about her and planning to visit the art galleries. The waitress comes through the door. Could this be Elfie, from beyond? She was a young lady from Poland on a visit to London. After two years of long distance court-ship, they were married in London.

But the hardship continues. Having returned to Poland to introduce her husband to her family, but due to gross incompetence by the American Consulates in both England and Poland, he had to leave her behind the Iron Curtain. It would take a letter to President Carter and a trip to Poland to finally re-unite them and move to their new home in California.

Today, Hans, his wife Malinka, their daughter who was born on February 16. and their son are a happy family, finally. Hans fulfilled most of the Gypsy’s predictions and now is a well established artist and Consulting engineer with more than thirty patents in his name.

In addition to many of his favorite paintings, an unfinished still-life of roses in a vase is prominently displayed in their home. It is the one he was going to present to Elfie at Easter time in 1947, but never finished, when news came of her death, just two days before Easter.

This book is dedicated to the memory of a great love, which passed many cruel tests, but lives on to this day.

Chapter Two. Hitler builds a new Germany.

The little village near the northern edge of the Black Forest in southern Germany lay peacefully in a secluded valley, surrounded by rolling hills covered with majestic beech trees and cone bearing conifers. The meadows on either side of the creek were covered with millions of wildflowers and a pair of storks circled gently above, searching for a place to build their nest. A local farmer was guiding his cows pulling a wagon loaded with grass toward the barn near the entrance to the village.

This serene picture was in stark contrast to the economic and political chaos, which had gripped Germany and most other countries of the world in 1930. Hindenburg, the German leader at the time was totally ineffective in dealing with it. The political parties were in each other’s hair and did not seem to have any time left to organize themselves and come up with a workable plan. The stage was set for an aspiring painter/artist to make his move.

Meanwhile, in the village, there was some excitement going on. The annual visit of the gypsies from Hungary had begun. They arrived with their covered wagons, followed by groups of women and children, THE OLDEST SCISSOR GRINDER and the famous and often feared Matriarch the old gypsy woman who could either put a curse on you or foretell your future. My mother was one of those who were anxious to see her and predict the future of her 1-1/2 year old son. Her friend on the other hand was terrified and headed home with her baby, worried the gypsy woman might put a hex on him.

Approaching the old lady, one could not help but feel a sense of admiration. She was a woman of great charm, beautiful flowing black hair and pitch black piercing eyes. Her head was covered with a colorful hand embroidered kerchief. An even more beautiful dress reached from her shoulders to the ground and all kinds of gold and silver jewelry glistened on her hands and neck.

My mother was just a little bit nervous as the gypsy approached. What a nice little boy you have, you should be very happy and soon you will be celebrating his second birthday. Do you mind if I look at his little hands, she asked. My mother nodded in anticipation, wondering what might be in store for him.

You are a very fortunate woman, she said. Your boy will have a long life filled with much love, but also tragedy and despair which will test his character. Looking carefully at his tiny hands she said, I see very good lines indicating talent for art and ideas working both with his hands and mind, perhaps he will be an engineer or a great artist. But you must be prepared to be without him. I see a great water separating you from him when he reaches manhood. But he will make you proud of him and return to his birthplace many times for years to come. As was customary, my mother slipped a small loaf of fresh baked bread from her apron and handed it to the gypsy woman who graciously accepted the gift.

Meanwhile the old scissor grinder was busy up the street doing his thing, grinding knives and scissors for the local women who were well prepared for this annual ritual. Towards the evening the gypsies settled down for the night at the upper end of the village and after their evening meal the locals gathered around to listen to the familiar fiddle music and romantic chants of the gypsy families.

A few days after their arrival, the gypsies were gone again and replaced by another sight. The shepherds were driving their flocks of sheep through the village and into the nearby meadows leaving a familiar mess behind on the road through the village. The locals did not mind this inconvenience, because there was no better garden fertilizer than sheep droppings. Within minutes of sheep passing through, the street was clean as a whistle again.

The economic chaos in Germany would continue for a few more years and was especially hard for those living in the cities where long lines of people could be seen daily waiting for handouts of food and other necessities. The villagers on the other hand were more fortunate since they could grow most of their own food and traded what they could spare for other goods with the city people.

On the political scene, not much changed during the next two years except for the rumors about this would-be artist who was going to take Germany out of it’s misery and create a great new German Reich where everyone would have a job with good pay, eventually every family have their own house and garden and some day even their own little car, the Volkswagen.

With visions like this, it was little wonder that most Germans could not wait for the day when all this was going to happen. And soon it would actually come true and a lot more which was not in the original script. In 1933, Hindenburg left this world, Hitler was the new Chancellor of Germany and the world would never be the same again.

For the first-born son of a struggling young couple, this was the beginning of the journey the gypsy woman had predicted. It was to be filled with all the character forming ingredients, love, happiness, tragedy, and at times despair.

Hans, now four years old, who would eventually have three brothers and sisters, was playing alongside the creek, which flowed through the village in front of his grandmother’s house. A hay wagon loaded to the brink with cow dung and drawn by two cows, yes cows, was slowly moving past him, leaving behind a familiar aroma. They stopped a few yards onwards at one of several natural spring watering troughs to gorge themselves on the crystal clear spring water.

He walked over to watch the cow’s tongues lap up the refreshing liquid and took a drink for himself from the cast iron spout which fed the trough, getting himself thoroughly soaked in the process. But ah, was it ever delicious.

His grandmother noticed his departure and ran out to find him. Hans, she yelled, you get back over here right away, and watch those cows. Hans obediently ran back to his grandmother who as usual had a cookie in her pocked. Now, stay here in front of the house and you can have a cookie. That sounded like a pretty good deal and Hans accepted and stayed.

Meanwhile the cows moved on with their load through town up the narrow street which was lined with a variety of beautiful houses with steep slate covered roofs, open window shutters and beautiful flowers blooming in every window. The creek meandering along each side of the street added a special character to the scene.

Sunshine glistening on the edges of the many roofs created a perfect frame for the Gothic church perched on a hill at the end of the street. Its towering steeple contained the bells, which rang out each Sunday morning to summon the all-catholic population to Sunday mass.

At this moment, while Hans was creating one of his drawings in the sand washed up next to the creek, the clock from the steeple strikes four, calling all the farmers in the fields, it’s time to start heading home after a day of plowing and cultivating. This was quite important, because dictated by historical events, the cows not only had to pull the plows and wagons, usually done by horses, they also had to provide milk for the family. Leaving the fields by four o’clock gave them enough time after returning home to produce the milk for the evening milking session.

Hans’ mother also heard the bell and returned from the nearby forest with a basket full of mushrooms which were usually abundant in the early August after a good rain. His mouth was watering at the sight of the mushrooms, because he knew it would be spaetzle and mushrooms for dinner, one of his all-time favorite foods. Mother, what kind are they, he said, as he followed his mother into the house. Well, I have some Chanterelles, Boletus and Black Trumpets, we will have some of each for dinner tonight.

Soon, his father came home from work, a shovel over his shoulder. He was part of a workforce created by the new leader to provide work for the people. They were building what was to be known as the welfare mountain half a kilometer beyond the upper end of town. A whole army of workers shoveled dirt and rocks into a large pile for no other reason but to create work for the unemployed.

The pay was small, but it took the sting out of the widespread poverty and provided some income to cover the necessities of life. The mountain was already over fifty meters high and a hundred meters in diameter at the base and became a sort of monument; I am not quite sure for what.

It was the end of summer and the beginning of the harvest-season. My father was busy getting the thrashing machine in the barn ready for action. The first load of wheat pulled up next to it. My best friend Helmut and his mother came over. They lived just next door. Our mothers usually bundled the straw coming out of the machine and the two of us, Helmut six and I five, were told to sit up on the back steps where they could keep an eye on us once in a while.

It didn’t take very long before we got bored and started bugging each other. As far as I was concerned, it was Helmut who started it. Of course he didn’t agree and yelled to his mother to complain. She waved her hand at me and told me to stop. It didn’t work and Helmut kept complaining. Finally, his mother yelled back: Hans, you better listen good or I will come up and cut off your ears. That was one of the old fashion threads people used in those days, which in later years underwent some serious editing.

Helmut decided he could take care of this himself, ran to the kitchen to get my mother’s little potato knife. I didn’t pay any attention until he pulled on my left ear and started sawing away on it. I screamed at the top of my voice and the two women dropped their straw bundles and came running up the stairs while yelling at Helmut to stop. I was so scared, I couldn’t move.

By now there should have been blood running all over my shoulders, but some angel was watching over me. Helmut had the knife upside down and my ear was still attached but sore from all the sawing. A few days alter the whole affair was in the past and we were best friends again.

As the years passed, the recession was forgotten, everyone had a job and many of the shovelers traded their shovels in for glistening rifles and marched to the songs and fanfare of Hitler’s road to the 1000-year empire of the so-called master race. His propaganda campaign, supported by the now good life in Germany convinced most Germans that a great future lay ahead.

My father had his job back at the big machinery factory in the nearby city turning out machine tools and measuring instruments for rapidly expanding industry. The Volkswagen factories were busy rolling cars off the assembly lines and Messerschmidt was getting ready to produce ME-109 fighter plains while Junkers filled the sky with the JU-52 tri-motor transport planes. In Friedrichshafen near Lake Konstanze, the famous Graf Zeppelin was taking shape and soon cruised the skies over Germany making citizens proud of their country’s accomplishments in just a few short years.

Excitement reached even higher levels when the announcement came of the reunification of all the German provinces which had been taken away from Germany by the Versailles Dictate after World War One, an even which had still pained many Germans especially those who had relatives living in those areas. To complete the picture, many of the young shovelers had joined the Wehrmacht getting ready to defend the Fatherland against all enemies in the future.

The people in the little village soon got a good look at the defenders of their country when word came that they would have Einquartierung. That meant, a company or perhaps even a battalion of soldiers would move in for exercise in the surrounding fields while staying in local houses overnight.

For the young people this was a new experience, especially at our house,