Memoirs of a Simple German Girl: As Told by Ingeborg Tacke and in Part by Sonya Siedschlag

By Sonya Siedschlag

Memoirs of a Simple German Girl is the history of two average people and their families who lived in Germany before, during, and after WWII. If you enjoy history and how simple folks lived in the early 20th century - what they ate, how they lived, survived, and what they saw as they journeyed through life in Germany, Canada, and the USA - this book is for you. It includes brief history summations of Europe and other historical information that interacts with these two people's lives. It is about life, true love, and family!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312464285

Book preview

Memoirs of a Simple German Girl: As Told by Ingeborg Tacke and in Part by Sonya Siedschlag

Memoirs of a Simple German Girl: As Told by Ingeborg Tacke And in Part by Sonya Siedschlag

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Memoirs of a Simple German Girl

As Told by Ingeborg Tacke And in Part by Sonya Siedschlag

Written by Sonya Siedschlag

First e-Book Edition

Abridged

Copyright © 2014 Sonya Siedschlag

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-1-312-46428-5

No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission from Sonya Siedschlag until her passing, then the caretakers of her estate.

Photos and Documents are from Ingeborg Tacke, Family Stäcker, and Siedschlag archives. All photos used with owners’ verbal or written permission.

Edited by: Michael J. Siedschlag and Jennifer M. Siedschlag

Self-Published by: Sonya Siedschlag

Acknowledgements

Memoirs of a Simple German Girl

as told by Ingeborg Tacke and in Part by Sonya Siedschlag

I couldn’t have written this book without the obvious participation of my mother, Ingeborg Tacke. I made so many phone calls to her and usually at the wrong time, but she took the time to answer all my questions to the best of her memory. Even with plenty of health issues in 2012, she attempted to help me proofread and correct many of the stories for accuracy. When I was at her home, she allowed me to rummage through her and dad’s important paperwork for dates and information on their past. Even when my book was nearly done, she added details to flesh out the story.

Detlef Stäcker, my cousin in Germany, was such a great help in so many ways. By taking the time to explain and clarify important German historical facts, adding more detail on family information and traditions; he enriched Ingeborg’s stories. Detlef is responsible for the copies of many family documents I have. Without his help, this book would have lacked perspective. Thank you, Detlef!

I want to thank Robert Siedschlag, my brother-in-law and others who spent time trying to research information about ships, cars, motorcycles, and airplanes. It’s not that easy! In addition, I would like to thank my German cousin, Wilhelm Tacke and Roland Tacke, his son, for their help. Pastor John Contreras gave me invaluable lessons on the history of Christianity. Furthermore, I want to thank my sister, Karen, for her input. Thanks to Richard Hubert for the surprise information on my Tacke family history.

I also wish to thank all my family and friends who supported and encouraged me to write Memoirs of a Simple German Girl.

In addition, I would like to thank my delightful and talented daughter-in-law, Jennifer Siedschlag. She helped with the final draft for publication to the public.

Most of all, I want to give my heartfelt love and thanks to my wonderful, understanding, and patient husband, Mike. He has supported me and been there through all my endeavors, including this book. All the hours and days I spent time alone in my room coming out only to ask for his input, while he made sure I ate and had everything I needed. In addition, Mike read, re-read and read again a few more times, editing and loving my book. I never could have done it without him. Thank you so much Mike. I love you!

My hope was to write this story in keeping with the flavor of my mom’s idiom. There may be some grammatical errors for this reason. By saying this, I also accept all responsibility for any errors made in sentence structure, punctuation, and spelling. This would also include misinterpretation of historical documents.

Dedicated to our descendants

With love from your ancestors

the

Jänisch, Behr, Lange, Tacke, and Siedschlag Families

Destiny

Memoirs of a Simple German Girl

As Told by Ingeborg Tacke And in Part by Sonya Siedschlag

Written by Sonya Siedschlag

Table of Contents

Preface

Introduction

Bloodline of Wilhelm Franz Tacke

Bloodline of Ingeborg Anna Gertrud (Lange) Tacke

Part 1 Ingeborg Anna Gertrud Lange

1 Family Backgrounds and Histories

2 Childhood 1925 to 1939

3 Daily Living

4 Holidays and Festivities

5 School System

6 Surviving World War II 1939 to 1945

7 Post World War II 1945 to 1948

Part 2 Wilhelm Franz Tacke

1 Introduction to Wilhelm Franz Tacke

2 Family Backgrounds and Histories

3 Youth 1917 to 1939

4 Surviving World War II 1939 to 1945

5 Post World War II 19145 to 1948

Part 3 Together

1 The New Beginning - Germany 1948 to 1952

2 Canada 1952 to 1959

3 United States of America 1959 to 1998

Part 4 Living Solo

1 Living Solo 1998 to 2012

Part 5 Epilogue

1 What happened to…

2 Else Renner’s Story

3 Campaign Against France 1870-1871 - Journal by Martin Hugo Robert Jänisch

Part 6 Bibliography

Part 1 Ingeborg Anna Gertrud Lange

Part 2 Wilhelm Franz Tacke

Part 3 Together

Part 4 Living Solo

Inside and Back of Book

Preface

My mother was 84 years old during the winter of 2009-2010 when we sat together with a microphone in her hand recording her memoirs. We were sitting in my RV outside her home when I encouraged her to begin delving into her past to recall everything she could about herself, family and friends. She was the oldest living leaf that we knew of on our family tree.

On and off for six months, more and more memories came tumbling from her lips. Often, at first, she would question why I was determined to do her story. She would say, There is nothing to tell. Nothing exciting about it. Nothing earth shattering. She was just an average ordinary German girl growing up pre, during and post-World War II Germany. Not from a Jewish family, not famous, neither notorious nor rich – no one of consequence. She was just part of an ordinary average family trying to live and survive like everyone else around them.

She grew up during this turbulent time innocent and naïve and actually managed to remain so throughout her life. She herself remained for the most part untouched by evil even though chaos was all about her. She kept the stories that were told to her, in her memory, and separated them from her own daily life. She didn’t hide the stories but she didn’t dwell on them either. A colleague once said to me, She blocked the ugliness from her past in order to move forward and remain un-embittered.

Yet, as she continued spilling out her past, we both became more and more absorbed as her treasury of stories surfaced and came alive once again. Her daily life and growing up under the Hitler régime was fascinating to me and we both looked forward to each session, - she reliving some fond and not so fond memories and me savoring each and every one of them. The time we shared was priceless. When all was said and I couldn’t squeeze one more story from the depth of her memory bank, we felt saddened. It was like a good story concluding and we didn’t want it to end.

I grew up hearing many of these stories and wanting them written down so all her descendants could know what early 20th century life was like. Now was the time. For my father, it was too late to write his story from his perspective. He passed away in 1998 and I never took the time to listen to his life story. We received only fragmented details throughout the years. He saw much more of the evil side of human nature and its consequences and preferred not to relate the horrors to us children. He would tell the humorous, ironic side of what he heard, saw or experienced during his life – but only a few dark stories were revealed to us, more so to my mom.  I missed my chance with dad, but not with mom. I wouldn’t let her off the hook so easily.

In 2011, I began sorting all the recorded information into a chronological order to form my book. Again and again I called mom whenever I had questions about old photos taken, names, times, and facts. She helped me as much as possible and in addition to answering my questions, this would often uncover more stories from her past. Given her 85 years without much written down – just her memories, I am amazed how acute much of her recollection is.

I did my best to substantiate all her stories with historical facts I found on the web, in books, old photo albums, and what documents were saved in the family. My cousin in Germany, Detlef Stäcker, was a tremendous help. He also has an interest in our family history and I give him much credit for the scanned documents he sent and the family history he compiled.

None of the stories written in this book are fabricated by either my mother or me. They are as accurate as can be considering how long after the fact they were recorded and that some of these stories were re-told third hand.

For me to write this book, I had to learn about early German history through the 1950’s and to some degree the present. My interest and research involved reading accounts of civilian life; however, I felt it was equally important to understand some of the economic, political, and military strategies that created the cultural context of my family’s life.

I was horrified by what I read in many stories written by people who lived through some of the atrocities done by the Germans, Russians, Polish, British, and Americans. Evil is evil no matter what excuse given or what uniform is worn! The innocent were the victims of the hateful and vengeful and continued like a dominos falling until everyone affected was or is scarred for life by fear and hate. That’s what war does to people.

I’ve heard, Everyone has a story. This is my mom’s story, Ingeborg Tacke, and I wish to share it with you.

The story is presented by me with additional comments and historical backup information, but primarily narrated and seen through the eyes of my mother, Ingeborg Tacke.

Sonya Siedschlag, 2012

Note: The writing of this book was completed by the end of December 2012 and January 2013. During the editing process, facts changed due to life ever changing. Some of these changes are noted in parenthesis in italics. 

Introduction

It has always been my wish to write my story for my three daughters, Sonya, Karen and Helga. I want them to know where I came from, the life I led in Germany, and the wonderful time my husband and I had in Canada.

My childhood began before World War II, during a time that was considered pretty good by most citizens. I must point out that during those years Hitler did create a safe environment for the average German family. Education was important. Anyone who wanted to work could get a job. Crime was minimal and any criminals caught were punished with a heavy hand.

Growing up as a simple girl and as a German citizen, I only knew how my life was; and that of my family, friends, and neighbors. I was not aware of how a Jewish German family lived or how they were treated. I never really thought about it or paid any attention to it. I have no idea if I came in contact or not with a Jewish person while I was growing up. I wouldn’t have been able to tell us apart. As far as I knew, we were all Germans.

I only became aware of problems just before the war began, when I asked about damage I saw from Kristallnacht and saw that Jewish citizens had to wear armbands. My only previous knowledge about the Jewish community was probably told by teachers, neighbors, family, or from other sources. And that was that Jewish people were very good businessmen and knew how to save money and help each other to succeed. And because of those reasons, Hitler announced they could or might take over Germany’s businesses and that the businesses should belong to the Germans. But as I said before, I didn’t think about it. That was pretty much all I knew until we were notified that World War II was declared over.

My parents sheltered us from any evil that went on around us. Toward the end of the war, all communication was virtually non-existent.

Ingeborg Tacke, 2012

Bloodline of Wilhelm Franz Tacke

Bloodline of Ingeborg Anna Gertrud (Lange) Tacke

Part 1 Ingeborg Anna Gertrud Lange

Part 1 – 1 Family Backgrounds and Histories

I believe I shall begin with my earliest knowledge of my family tree relations. Most of what I remember was told to me by my parents or passed down to me by other relatives.

Mother’s Side

Jänisch Family

My grandmother’s father was Robert Martin Hugo Jänisch, my great grandfather. Robert was born on July 19, 1841. He was drafted into the German/French war, known as the Franco-Prussian War 1870-1871. Robert was ordered to fight for his country against France and so he set off to do his duty. (1) and (2)

Here is a quick summary of the war. There was long-term tension between France and Prussia; and when Chancellor, Otto von Bismarck of Prussia and Spain’s de facto leader, Juan Prim persuaded Prince Leopold to accept the Spanish throne in June 1870 (after Queen Isabella II was deposed in 1868), France felt threatened.  The French government thought they could win the war with their new weaponry, so Napoleon III declared war on Prussia July 19, 1870. The Battle of Sedan on September 1, 1870 was the turning point in favor of Germany. It was disastrous for France and Napoleon III surrendered his entire army to Prussia on September 2.

While both the German and French armies were equally matched in weaponry, the Germans were more cunning strategists and much better organized. Even though Germany won the war, France continued under a newly formed government for another five months. It ended when Paris fell on January 28, 1871. The war formally ended on May 10, 1871 when the Treaty of Frankfurt was completed.

This war marked the beginning of the German Empire. The German lands were united under the first German Emperor, Prussian King Wilhelm I on January 18, 1871. It also established the French Third Republic.

The Franco-Prussian war was the beginning of a new era in warfare. With the Industrial Age in full swing, it rapidly changed technology and advanced weaponry, mobilization, and communication, which changed how war was planned and fought. Both sides had advanced in their weaponry. Prussia had a more efficient and long-range steel-cast breech-loading cannons called the Krupp; whereas the French still used a muzzle-loading cannon called the Lahitte.

France had produced the first machine gun called the Mitrailleuse as a standard piece of field equipment. It is compared to the American Gatling Gun used during their Civil War. However, French military used it sparingly and usually only for long range, not understanding the full capability of this superior weapon. Napoleon III’s French government kept this weapon a secret until just before the war began; therefore the commanders were not brought up to date on its full potential.

Both the Prussians and French had breech-loading rifles, which was an improvement over the older muzzle-loaders. The French had the Chassepot, which was a better weapon than the Prussian’s Dreyse Needle-Gun was.

Since the 1830s, railroad tracks were being constructed all over Europe and the Prussian Field Marshal, Helmuth von Moltke, saw the importance of them in opposing France long before the war began. France also saw them as a way to mobilize their army more quickly. Learning from the American Civil War, both sides realized that as long as the tracks were protected, the soldiers and supplies could be transported quickly and the men wouldn’t become exhausted from traveling on foot or on horse. Cavalry was still used but not as much.

The railroads were used in 1866 during the Austro-Prussian War but inadequate planning led to congestion and became a problem with transporting supplies. During the Franco-Prussian war, this became a problem as well. They hadn’t quite fine-tuned the organizational efficiency to complete delivery of provisions to the armies that were stationed far from railroads. Without necessary supplies, the Prussian army had to resort to earlier strategies of survival, which meant relying on the enemy’s food storage and agricultural yields.

The French had the same problem and the soldiers were left to their own resources, which included taking everything from the local people and pillaging, which led to desertion for many soldiers. Overall, the railroad tracks sped up mobilization of men and provisions. Because of this, France quickly transported their army fourteen days after declaring war on Prussia, July 19, 1870 and attacked Germany on August 2, taking the town of Saarbrucken.

The telegraph became very important and greatly enhanced communication between the units or corps, government, and newspaper-correspondents. Utilizing both the railroad and the telegraph wire system, communication became much faster and easier, which additionally aided in transporting and helping wounded men, men on furloughs, etc.  That is, as long as the railroad tracks and telegraph cables were not destroyed by the enemy. (3) And, this is where Robert Jänisch comes into the picture and gives an insight as to what he and his unit did to help the Prussian army.

Robert Jänisch wrote a journal during his time in the war, of which I have a copy and my sister had the original until she passed away. It was written in the old German handwriting. I learned this writing in school and I am still able to read and understand it. I imagine now, only the people in my generation can read it. Today, the students are not taught this in school. However, my nephew, Detlef Stäcker and his father Kolle, my brother-in-law, in a joint effort transcribed and typed Robert’s journal. Sonya translated their transcription into English with my help. (The English version is in Part 5-3 of the Epilogue.)

We found his story to be very interesting and it gave an insight into the life of a soldier. Robert Jänisch must have written this journal sometime after the fact but wrote notes during the year because he was very specific about dates and times. He wrote down what was important to him as well as major events—not every detail in his daily life. However, he wrote many times, there was plenty of drinking; Bavarian beer, wine or cognac whenever there was a chance. That, along with the occasional good meal was a blessing for him and other soldiers.

In the journal, Robert describes his time during the war. Actually, he was not in the war fighting but his job was just as dangerous. The telegraph system had been invented and put into use just a few years earlier and Robert was ordered to install, repair, and protect telegraph cables and the posts used for them. Sometimes he traveled by train and sometimes by wagon driven by horses and other times he marched.

With the German army advancing, his unit had to install telegraph cables whenever the army found new headquarters. The telegraph cables were connected to the different German army units (or corps used more in Europe translation) in France and to the telegraph system in Germany. Then he had to guard the cables as long as the army stayed or fought in the area. When the cables were destroyed by grenades or cut to pieces by the French underground, Robert had to repair them. Once the army moved on, his unit had to disassemble everything for transport to the next location. He was in charge of the wagon that carried his materials and men that worked with him.

Robert was close to some important German army units that fought in major battles, such as The Battle of Sedan. Although Robert did not fight in any of the battles, he saw firsthand many times the endless lines of wounded soldiers brought from the battlefields and the aftermath of some battles.  He came down with Ruhr (dysentery) just before the Battle of Sedan. Ruhr is an infection in the intestines and behaves like cholera. He had quite a struggle overcoming this illness while still serving in the army. His doctor insisted he was not sick and so Robert had to continue to work, drill, and march even though he had a high fever and fainted at one point. Eventually commanders gave orders for him to go to a Lazarett (military hospital) and from there he stayed at a castle in France along with other sick soldiers. After the worst was over, Robert was allowed to recuperate at home for four weeks before continuing his service. Robert headed back to his unit or, as he wrote, his department on New Year 1871. Toward the end of the war, he stayed about four months with a French family in Amiens, France—a woman with a young daughter and her mother as well as the daughter’s uncle. They were supposed to be enemies, but became very fond of each other. When it was time to go home, it was a very difficult parting. The daughter was asleep when Robert gave her a kiss good-bye and left. The woman mailed a letter to him later which stated the girl looked everywhere for Robert and wouldn’t believe her family that he left until she noticed his weapons and uniform were gone. During his stay there, he saw the aftermath of Paris when it was destroyed. He viewed the destruction through a telescope in a nearby town. Robert was home on June 18, 1871.

After the war, Robert married my great grandmother, Amalie Therese Pauline Hildebrandt on December 9, 1872. Apparently she went by Robertine according to what I wrote in my photo album under their picture. (See picture-Part 1) Robertine was born on March 12, 1853. The couple lived in Berlin and had eleven children. Only four were still alive by the time I was born–Elisabeth, Anna, Louise and Gertrud (my grandmother). I met at least one of my grandaunts when I was a child. Robert Jänisch worked for many years as a Berlin prison guard.

Robert and Pauline Jänisch’s daughter, Gertrud, was a wonderful woman and the best grandmother. I loved her very much. So did everyone else who got to know her. She was born as Gertrud Robertine Wilhelmine Jänisch on October 14, 1882.

She’s the eighth eldest child. I just have to write the names down to show you how long they were. Starting with the oldest: Auguste Luise Pauline Helene 1873-1874, Marie Agaretha Ottilie Elisabeth 1874-1959, Heinrich August Hugo 1875-1876, Louise Pauline Franziska 1877-1914, Anna Klara Frieda 1878-1881, Lousie Pauline Anna 1879-1952, Gertrud Louise Marie 1881-1953, Robertine Wilhelmine Gertrud 1882-1973, Martha Bertha Louise 1885-?, Katharina Auguste Louise 1886-?, Hedwig Margarethe Therese 1887-1888.

The way the recorded names are written down, I wouldn’t know if the last name is actually the first name. In Germany, the first name comes after the middle names. However, that is not always the case such as the two Gertruds. I know my grandmother’s first name was Gertrud, at least that is what she went by. But would my great grandparents actually name two of their children Gertrud as their first name? It gets confusing with all the similar names. Then, of course, the names chosen could be shortened and/or changed. Middle names could be used too. Just like it is here in America.

Detlef Stäcker tried to explain it this way. The usual three given names were all considered first names. Any of these names used would be acceptable except when an official document was signed. Then, it had to be signed in the order on the birth certificate. This is still true today.

As an example: my sister, Lilo’s formal name on her birth certificate is Erna Friedel Lieselotte Lange. She chose Lilo because she only liked Lieselotte. As a point of interest, Lieselotte would have been reduced to Liesel in Bavaria under her formal name.

In earlier days, in northern Germany where Prussians had the say, the first name came first on official documents. In southern Germany where Bavaria had the say, the family name came first before the first name. Changes were and are made with times and style.

The only difference I can see between Germans and Americans is that any names following the first name are considered middle names in America and in America only one middle name is usually given. However, the law is the same in both countries. On formal or official documents, the name written should match the birth certificate or any official name changes that were made later.

In those days, including the generation that followed up until after World War II, many children were born in a family if the mother survived childbearing. Unfortunately, many children didn’t survive due to illnesses or accidents. There were no reliable contraceptives even if they were accepted. But on the other hand, children were important to the survival of the family even though it may have meant less food for all. Medicines and doctors were not as available as they are now. In general, the average family had a hard life and the children were there to help.

Behr Family

My grandfather, Hermann Karl Behr, was born May 18, 1876 in Leipzig. I don’t have any other background history of his parents or his siblings or of his past. He and my grandmother, Gertrud Jänisch, were engaged 1899 and married October 5, 1902. (See picture-Part 1)

Their first home was in or near downtown Berlin above a store called Holz & Kohlen (Wood & Coal) and Obst Gemüse-Handlung" (Vegetable Shop) until after World War I. For a short time, they lived in Seegefeld outside of Berlin just south of Berlin-Falkensee. Then they moved to Berlin-Staaken and lived in a house that became their home until the end of their life. Their address was Langen Weg 54. That home was part of a long row of attached houses, which were brand new at the time.

My grandmother Behr gave birth to fourteen children. Seven of them died young, while the others survived through adulthood. Twelve names are written down in the records that were accumulated together. Most of the middle names weren’t written down if they had any. In some of the death announcements I received, the middle names weren’t given either. But here are the names I have: Martha Pauline Gertrud 1902-1984, Frieda, Erna Johanna 1905-1977, Robert 1906-1962, Hermann, Gertrud 1908-1970, Herta 1911-1984, Elli, Arnold, Heinz 1918-1951, Helmut and Werner. The names written without the dates may not be in the correct order.

I was told that two of the children, baby twins, died in a rocking crib. One of the very young children was swinging the babies too fast and hard. The crib tipped over killing the babies. I can only imagine how that child must have felt if he/she comprehended what happened or for that matter how unbearable it must have been for my grandmother. But then she lost many of her children while they were young and outlived many of her older children. But that was the way of life then. Death was no stranger.

I don’t think today’s generation realizes how fragile life is. Not with all the modern medicines and technology we have today. Yes, children die—adults die, but every death now is questioned—if it could or should have been prevented and who’s to blame. It seems unreal when a child dies unexpectedly in today’s world, but it happened all the time in those days—sad, unfortunate, but real.

Gertrud Jänisch had a choice between two men who wanted to marry her. Both men appeared nice, were good looking and both had professions and training that could provide for a family. However, one of them had a lame foot or leg and walked with a limp.

So being naïve and inexperience and like most young girls, chose looks and didn’t check too closely at the soul, picked Hermann Behr. He was considered very handsome with a full head of beautiful hair. Within the first fourteen days of their marriage, Hermann shaved off all his hair to his wife’s dismay.

For the rest of his life, he never let it grow out. My grandmother would always comment afterward that she had to live with a Kahlkopf (baldhead) and said she chose poorly.

No one can tell the future and who knows what it might have been like with the other man. Her life could have been better or it could have been much worse.

I always told my girls, You never know what kind of man you marry until after the wedding. But, at around six months, with eyes wide open, one usually has a good idea what kind of person they are with. A person who is false normally can’t keep up the act and begins to reveal their true self.

Apparently, Hermann Behr had a distrusting, jealous nature. While he was gone soldiering in World War I, Gertrud needed to find ways to make money. Times were bad so she decided to clear out a room in their apartment above the store to rent out. When Hermann came home on a furlough, he noticed a young man renting the room and became suspicious.

In 1918 Heinz Behr was born, the war was over and Hermann returned home. In Hermann’s opinion, the young man fathered the child even though Heinz looked just like him. Nothing happened between Gertrud and the renter and everyone told him he was wrong and his suspicion was absurd. Heinz was his; the resemblance was clear. But no matter what anyone said, he maintained his doubt.

From that time on, he distrusted and mistreated his wife. As far as I know, he didn’t beat her but Hermann didn’t treat her well either and she had to suffer under his condemnation.

As for Heinz, his father did not love or accept him and treated him differently than the other children. In spite of that, Heinz lived with them for a long time, so it couldn’t have been all that bad.

My grandfather must have mellowed as the years passed. As a child, I was never aware of the tension between my grandparents and Heinz. Only after my grandfather’s death in 1946 was I informed of their marital problems and why.

Hermann Behr died on August 5, 1946 and afterward when the family came together, they would often speak ill of him because he was not a kind man toward his wife. Finally, Gertrud told her children, Once and for all times, let that old man sleep. And so they did.

My grandmother led a good life after her daughter, Gertrud Müller moved in with her. Her husband had passed away too. I knew my aunt as Tante Trude. She was planning a visit to us in America when she suddenly died in 1970. After that, grandmother Behr lived alone until 1972.

Her family would come and visit every day. They would take turns helping her as much as possible. All her children had their own families to attend to and none could live with her. Some of them tried to persuade her to move in with them, but she wanted to live in her home and that was final.

Then one day in late May of 1972, the entire family living in Germany attended my father’s funeral in Schleswig-Holstein in the town of Delve. Grandmother Behr was left alone in her home during that time. She was a healthy woman for her age but had become very large and couldn’t get around very well because of her size. On that particular day, she fell off her chair and couldn’t get up. The next day when the neighbors noticed that her blinds were not open as usual, they became concerned. Instead of going into the house and checking for themselves, they called the fire department. They and the paramedics found her on the floor. She was unhurt and there wasn’t anything wrong with her. She just couldn’t pick herself up. But because she was alone, the paramedics took her to the hospital under her protest. She never saw her home again.

The law in Germany requires an elderly person to live with someone. Therefore, the hospital wouldn’t allow her to go home until someone agreed to be with her. She begged her children to come and stay with her but everyone she asked had their own home and family. My mother, now alone, had plenty of space in her home in Delve and asked her mother if she would move in with her. But she refused. She wanted to live in her home with her own television.

So, the government placed her in a type of nursing facility even though she was considered strong, healthy, and clear of mind. We were told she had a strong heart and could have lived a long time. In the nursing home, she was kept in a room that held nothing but a bed. She wasn’t even allowed a television. She was angry and hurt and couldn’t understand why her family deserted her. She didn’t want to have anything to do with them anymore. My mother and her immediate family were the only wanted guests and they visited her often.

Less than a year later, she had starved herself to death. She only drank dark beer and refused to eat. I was told that in just a few months, she was thin as a doll. Gertrud Robertine Wilhelmine Jänisch Behr died at 90 years old on February 20, 1973. I still feel very sorry whenever I think about what happened to her. She wanted to die in her home and couldn’t because the law said she couldn’t. It didn’t matter that she had neighbors and family nearby to check on her. She was such a good woman; even my husband really loved her.

Question. If the government was so concerned for my grandmother’s welfare that they took her away from her beloved home, how did she manage to starve herself in a nursing facility? It seems to me she was given much less care there than if she took care of herself in her home. I mean, anyone living on his or her own takes the risk of getting hurt without receiving help right away. Correct?

Father’s Side

Lange Family

So now, I will write about my father’s family. The Lange family came from the Province of Schlesien (4) in Eastern Germany also known as Silesia and once part of Prussia. I don’t know exactly where. But the story I know begins with my grandfather, my father’s father.

The family lived in a small village where everyone worked for a Baron—farming the fields and so forth. In America they were known as Serfs, people who were treated like slaves but not really slaves. They were free but had to work for the Barons and live by their rules. According to the Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary, 1974 (5), serf or serfdom means a member of a servile feudal class bound to the soil and subject to the will of his Lord.

Based on information I learned, my great grandparents were serfs, but my grandfather was free. Serfdom ended around the 1860s. My grandfather, Hermann Adolf Reinhold Lange, was born December 24, 1873. He was a young man living in the village when he decided he had enough and wanted to leave his family and home for a better life. One night he fled on foot and escaped to Dresden. I don’t know why he fled. Maybe he was underage. I thought he escaped serfdom, but that can’t be the case unless there was still some kind of hold that he was bound to.

My grandfather set himself up in Dresden and when he had saved enough money to afford a family, he went back to his village looking for the girlfriend he left behind. Anna Louise Schütze was her name, born March 23, 1875. She went back with Hermann to Dresden where they married and began a family. As far as I know, they had six children: Selma, Bernhard, Walter, Hans, Wella and Hilde.

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Dresden is located in a valley on the Elbe River. This city has a long history that dates back to 7500 BC. It was first settled by Linear Pottery culture tribes in the Neolithic era. Growth came from the Germanic peoples that were expanding and mining in the nearby Ore Mountains. The name Dresden comes from Old Sorbian, meaning People of the Riverside Forest. In time, Dresden became the capital of Saxony. By modern age, the ruler of Saxony, Frederick Augustus I became King August the Strong of Poland. He brought together the best musicians, architects and painters from all over Europe. Because of this, Dresden became recognized as a leading European city for technology and art. Dresden suffered historical and cultural damage due to several wars. During the 1800s, the city became a major center of economy. The population in 1849 was 95,000. By 1900 it was 396,000. Until 1933, Dresden was the center of European modern art. (6)

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For many years, my grandfather Lange was employed at the gas and electric company in Dresden.

I know my grandparents lived through World War II. My grandmother died shortly afterward. She received a letter from her son, Walter my father, one morning and while reading it and laughing at the humorous comments he made, she had a heart attack and died. My grandmother Anna was in her 70s.

My grandfather Hermann passed away around 1955 at age 82, a year or so after my grandmother died. The dates of their births come from an old note I wrote many, many years ago and it gives birth dates of my parents, sister and both sets of my grandparents. I would think it is accurate.

Unfortunately, I don’t know much else about them. And what I do know, I will tell you later.

Parents

Walter Alfred Hermann Lange

My father, Walter Alfred Hermann Lange, was born on April 2, 1902 in his home on Hechtstrasse 58, II, Dresden-Altstadt (found on birth certificate and family book). The earliest photos I have of him are on his confirmation day. He was between 12 and 14 years old, but confirmation usually takes place at 14 years of age for an Evangelical. There is also a picture of him and his entire family that appears to be taken on the same day. (I based my age theory on when my grandfather left his childhood home in Schlesien.) The problem is the year. Nineteen fourteen makes my father 12 years old in the same year World War I begins. Nineteen sixteen would make him 14 years old, but that is in the middle of the war. His father and brother fought in the war and might have enlisted or were drafted at the start. I don’t believe they both would have been allowed to come home for the confirmation. The picture doesn’t show them in uniform, but dressed in their finest and looking well without the stress of war. So, he could have been around 12 years old when that picture was taken but this is unlikely. In addition, his brother Bernhard, didn’t survive the war. He died in France–again no date is written.

On the other hand, a caption under a picture read that when Americans sent their troops in 1917; the old and the young Germans were sent to the front. (7) If that were the case in the Lange family, it’s possible they didn’t leave until 1916 or later which would make my father 14 when the picture was taken. I believe that is what probably happened, because a child usually was not confirmed earlier than 14 years of age.

I remember him telling us a couple of stories about his childhood. One story in particular always made us laugh whenever we asked him to tell it to us one more time.

He and his family lived just outside of Dresden in the country. The people had poultry, geese, pigs, and other farm animals around their homes. Fences did not necessarily pen these animals in. Some of them were allowed to roam freely. There was only one road or one way to get to or from their home.

As a little boy he would have to walk to get anywhere he needed to be or wanted to go, such as school or to the stores. The geese would always show up when he walked the road alone and they would try to attack him. One goose, the leader, in particular was out to get him and there was nothing he could do to avoid this. So Walter would run as fast as he could to get away from them.

One day my father said, Now, I’ve had enough! He found the courage and stood his ground waiting for the goose to come toward him. Then my father seized the goose’s neck and proceeded to swing him around over his head before letting the goose fly. The bully goose never again attacked my father. We always loved hearing this story. I try to imagine how funny that must have looked having that bird spun around by my father. I’m also surprised that it lived after what happened, but it did. I guess a bully goose is no different than a bully human. You stand up to them and then they leave you alone.

Whether this story really happened or not, we loved hearing it over and over. I thought it was true until I learned just recently that my father retold this story to his grandchildren in Germany but instead of a goose, it was a cat. So, who knows?

The next story was told as a lesson for us not to do what he did. My father loved to play jokes on people. He was the clown in the family—always the prankster. But this one time he came close to paying a heavy price for his little stunt.

One day Walter went to his friend’s home and found him chopping wood in the cellar. He slowly, silently crept down the stairs to scare him. He was just a step or so behind his friend when my father shouted, Boo! It spooked his friend so badly that he swung the ax over his head and missed my father’s head by just a tiny bit. They both were trembling then. That was a lesson learned. My father would tell us, This was very bad, because I could have easily died. I think he was trying to teach us a lesson too. I told this story to Sonya when she was young and I caught her sneaking up on someone (I think it was me) who was using a knife to do the same thing.

During World War I, the family had a very hard time surviving. Walter’s father and brother, Bernhard, were both gone fighting in the war. Food, clothing—everything was scarce and my father tried to help out anyway he could.

His friend worked at a bakery and would give my father bread outside the back entrance so no one would notice. He came home with the bread but never told his mother where or how he got it. If she ever found out that he didn’t pay for it, she would not have accepted it no matter how much they needed the food. That’s how she was. It definitely was not an easy time for them or anyone else around them. Life was difficult and everyone in the family including the children had to work together or else they could starve and die.

My father became an apprentice at Schloffer as a mechanic/machinist. He completed his apprenticeship April 8, 1920. Walter worked in the aircraft business and transferred to Berlin around 1922 or 1923 where he met my mother, Erna Johanna Behr.

Erna Johanna Behr

My mother, Erna Johanna Behr, was born on March 24, 1905 in Berlin. She lived through World War I as a young girl. Her father, Hermann Karl Behr, was a soldier in France. Her mother, Gertrud Robertine Wilhelmine Behr, had a very difficult time making ends meet for her large family. The government didn’t pay enough to support their family. Gertrud found work delivering coal to people’s homes using a little wagon. In addition to going to school, Erna helped her mother with delivering coal so they would have food and shelter. She did not have an easy childhood.

Her mother had six children and all of them had to help. It wasn’t just my mother who had to help. They all had to help! In time, all the children had their own street to deliver newspapers to, through a central station. (I remember Tante Trude and Tante Herta kept their newspaper distribution for many years. I even remember helping them one time.) All the money earned went to the household so they could live and buy food. That is if there was food to buy.

Today, here in America, it’s frowned upon when children work and help the family. When the boys and girls have a job now such has delivering newspapers; it’s for their own pocket. From what I understand, the government must give permission if a child under a certain age wants to work. They are not even allowed to help in a family-owned shop anymore! That wasn’t the case in those days. It was a way to survive and keep the family strong. It was a bad time! Everyone had to pitch in. There were no charity organizations to help the unfortunate–at least not to my knowledge. During World War I, there were no handouts. All the average German citizens were in an unfortunate situation and each family had to see to their own needs first.

When my mother was around 14 years old and out of school, she was considered grown up. Erna worked in a sewing factory sewing baby carriage linings. They were made with beautiful material. She worked there for many years until she married my father.

I think today people consider some of these factories sweat shops. I knew a few women who worked in some of these types of factories as children. They were very happy to have a job because it meant the family could eat. Many families depended on the money their children earned and taking away these factories could have meant hunger and starvation.

Most Americans right now can’t even imagine what it would be like to be really hungry and the need for families to stick together. There are all kinds of governmental programs and charities out there to rely on in time of family crisis. The ones who lived through the Great Depression in America probably have an understanding of what I mean—families working together in order to survive. I feel I need to stress how important this point I make is. Especially, since today’s average family is coming apart and breaking down and turning against each other. Drug use and laws attempting to help individuals are encouraging the destruction of many families. It’s a Catch-22. That’s my opinion.

In 1922, The German Weimar Republic and the Treaty of Versailles were failing and the German economy was crashing. Crime, malnutrition, and suicide reached unusually high levels. In 1923 demonstrations were happening all over Germany. Things became even more deplorable and civil war was openly discussed. Riots broke out and arrests were made. (8)

Back to my mother. She told me something that happened to her when she was around eighteen years old in 1923. A friend of hers invited her to a demonstration that was held in downtown Berlin. While they were standing on the outside of the mass of people, the crowd turned into a mob and shots were fired over their heads. Everyone in the vicinity immediately dropped to the ground and waited for the shooting to stop. Once the gunfire stopped, Erna got up and ran home terrified.

My mother would always tell me never to go near large angry crowds. If it turns into a mob, everyone could get into a mob mentality and do things they would never normally do. In addition, she would