Two Countries, One Heart

By R.K.P

About the Book:
Two Countries, One Heart written by R.K.P.
Market and Competition:
This book was written for those who enjoy reading autobiographies
reading the life story of another, learning through their experiences. Also,
those who are interested in how the war was experienced by a child and the
adaptations necessary following an immigration.
Although there are many autobiographical books, the beauty is that none
are identical. Each person lives their own story and interprets events in their
own way. Hence, leaving my book unique.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493154869

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by R.K.P.

Library of Congress Control Number:   pending

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-4931-5485-2

   Softcover   978-1-4931-5484-5

   eBook   978-1-4931-5486-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

Rev. date: 12/18/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1 Childhood Memories

The Garden

The Family

The Birth

My First Voyage

Years Of Heartwarming

Uli, My First Love

Neidenburg

Listen And Observe

To Learn To Live

Why Have You Gone?

The Funeral

Chapter 2 State Of War

The Flee

Where Are We Going?

Destination, Bad Polzin

The Long Walk

The Train Ride

Can It Get Any Worse?

The Village

Offensive, The Attack!

Chapter 3 Prisoner’s In Our Own Country

Rape

My Friend Peter

Responsibility

Birthday

Changes For The Better?

You Better Leave!

Traveling West

The Last Journey

A Child Once More

Neumuenster

Changes Appear

Our New Home

Good-Bye, Homeland

Chapter 4   My Voyage To Canada

Chapter 5   Canada Arrival

My Uncle’s House

The Hamilton Market

First Date

Chapter 6   Time For Romance

Fun And Dance

A Safe Land

The Family

A Visit To Friends

Alone

Chapter 7 Going To Work In Canada

My New Job

No Letters

What Is Wrong With Me?

Christmas

The Wedding

First Pregnancy

A Baby

My First Son

The Train Ride To Quebec

The Illness

Chapter 8   La Tuque

My Aunt’s Home

Babies

A Birthday

Our Home

Gila, My Cousin

The Trip

Trois-Rivières

The Children

A Birthday Gift

Chapter 9 La Tuque Again

Friend

The Voyage

Home

A Private Clinic

Chapter 10 My Thoughts

Welcome Home

What Is The Truth?

Jealousy

Living Day By Day

The Fire

The Old House

The Move

Chapter 11 Living In La Croche

Plant A Tree

Growing Together

The Plantation

Different Laws

The Children

Swimming Lessons

Our Animals

One Winter

Springtime

Volunteering

Time For Myself

Chapter 12   Years Go By

Mutti

A Little History

Travel To Europe

Heart Attack

School

Wedding

Our Oldest Son

Chapter 13   Humorous Moments

Sad Days, Happy Days

Chapter 14   Betrayed

Graduation

Graduation Day

Graduation

Chapter 15 Best Years Together

Life Goes On

Health

Vacation

Will You Live?

Home Again

Waterloo

Good-Bye

Celebration

I Am Free

Hidden Tears

About The Book:

Market And Competition:

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Dear Family and Friends,

Thank you for your friendship and help.

I would not have had the courage to write my life story, but for your kindness and support.

A special thank you to Shirley, my teacher and friend,

Bianca, my granddaughter and Tanja my daughter, your hard work has contributed to fulfilling my dream, creating a book of my memories.

Thank you,

R.K.P.

INTRODUCTION

Dear friend,

Today is the beginning of a new year. It is a peaceful and beautiful day, entwined in tranquillity, a day colored in shades of gray, which brings to mind low-hanging clouds, slow-floating snowflakes, and a breathless stillness. All nature is austere in its elegance. This is a time to muse and conceive, to recollect and to consider questions and answers that one might have.

For a long time, your advice has been to start writing a book, believing that future generations should know how an ordinary, unpretentious woman, like so many others in Western societies, experienced the twentieth century.

I feel so insignificant, a speck on earth. What could I share that has not been experienced or told before? Many people, like me, have lived through the big wars and lost their homes. Countless men, women, and children left their country and had to adapt to a completely new lifestyle far away from their homeland.

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We all had to learn to and live through this century of wonders, miracles, wars, and pain, rich on inventions, discoveries, and bloodshed day in and day out. Numerous old and new illnesses appeared around the world for which cures had to be found. It seems to me that every mastermind, philosopher, intellect, politician, and all-around thinker had to find every solution and discovery during this century. Faster and faster, everyone runs. The clock never stops. It is mind-boggling for simple everyday people like myself.

Then I ask myself, My friend, what can I bestow on the youth of tomorrow, what could they learn from my life experience?

Standing close to the window, looking out, contemplating what to decide, I see flocks of beautiful birds at our feeders, blue jays, red and yellow evening grosbeaks, little gray sparrows, also chickadees and starlings. Different species living relatively close together fighting, dancing, picking, feeding, and enjoying their daily life. A thought crosses my mind, Is this not the absolute, the real existence of life?

My heart is heavy. It is not easy to bare one’s soul and to write down one’s innermost thoughts. I ask myself, Will I have the strength to write the truth as I believe it to be? As I sit, surrounded by all I love, my thoughts wander back many, many years to a country far away to a land called East Prussia and its capital city Konigsberg.

MY HOMETOWN

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CHAPTER 1

Childhood Memories

The Garden

I am dreaming! Oceans of flowers, bushes, and trees surrounded me. I lay dreaming in the garden. Their fragrant bouquet embraced my senses. I tasted the honey on my palate. What a wonderful feeling! Countless insects pirouette, dance, swirl, and whiz though the air, their song a symphony. A frog family is present too, living in a man-made pond. I should not forget the numerous birds nesting in the trees and bushes looking for food, flying here and there, exulting in joyful melodies. All these sounds and smells are as an orchestra played in heaven.

Part of the garden had domestic animals—chickens, geese, ducks, and pigeons. These animals were my grandmother’s friends. A high wooden fence embraces all this beauty. No stranger can come and disturb my grandmother’s garden. It is her peaceful Elysium.

My cousins and I are very lucky children to be permitted to play and grow up in such a wonderful garden. We have our own private corner to play in. Grandfather arranged and

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built our playground with a colorful swing and a large sandbox. Many toys are placed in a special little house. We have shovels, rakes, and hoes, little pails and a red wheelbarrow with a cover, which my grandfather had made for us. We can skip and play ball, be carefree, happy children. I have to open my eyes and come back to reality.

This garden was situated in Konigsberg, the capital city of East Prussia. First time it was officially mentioned to honor King Ottokar von Boehmen and Sackheim, in AD 1255. This city developed and became a well-known cultural and commercial municipality. Its harbor found on the Pregel River was the traffic junction for ships from all over the world. This city was the window to the east due to its large marketing centre and trading routes.

About 370,000 people lived in this city before 1944. Then many women, children, and old people took to the road to travel west, fleeing from oncoming enemy forces. Our country was fighting a war. Not all the population left, about 120,000 inhabitants stayed in the city, of which 85,000 folks were killed during the bombing by western forces, the occupation and takeover by the Russian army.

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Shortly before the end of the Second World War, 1944, two horrid night air raids destroyed the whole inner city and part of its outlying districts.

I will not go into details of this destruction, but I will say this: it is horrible and unforgivable to kill innocent people and destroy an old cultural centre.

Konigsberg does not exist anymore.

"Torment and pain hounds my reason,

Bewildered, uncertain my essence forever will be."

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HISTORICAL COVER

The Family

My dear friend,

As I have decided to try and to write down my thoughts, I would like to, first of all, introduce you to some members of my family. This will give you a better understanding of my background and myself. Our family consists of many kinsmen. The grandparents on both sides of the family were from East Prussia. They each gave birth to seven children, of which one child in each family died during the influenza epidemic of 1918. Thousands of people died of this affliction in countries all over the world. My mother’s father was a prosperous, successful master builder. He was proficient and skilful who built many apartment houses, a church, and a few other buildings. Opa was a big man with a large waistline and a happy smile on his face, most of the time. He reminded us of the jolly old man at Christmas. His unfaltering love for the family established a closeness, which gave us all strength. He lived through two major wars that cost him much. During the Second World War, he lost his son and all his earthly belongings. At the age of seventy-four, he died penniless far from his home.

His wife, my mother’s mother, came from a big farm. She was a tiny very quiet woman with a huge heart who loved and cared admirably for her large family. She was also an expert gardener. Fleeing the Russian forces, my grandmother died. To this day I do not know where she has been buried.

Grandfather on my father’s side was a businessman. He was a stern but a kind person who owned a hardware store. He also died on the trek. His wife, my father’s mother, also came from a business family. She was a midwife, with a warm and a compassionate heart, so I was told. She died when I was very young. I regret not having known them well. It may sound unbelievable, but I still remember my great-grandmother, my father’s grandmother. I was about three years old when my parents took me to see her. A very old, shrivelled tiny lady sat in a large rocking chair. She had the funniest white nightcap on, a big shawl around her small shoulders, and a broad smile on her pale face. She left an everlasting impression in my heart. I will never forget her.

Both families were financially well-off. This enabled them to give their children a good education. The boys went to university and the girls to a lyceum, a girl’s higher school. They became, in their own right, well-established citizens. Most of them married and had their own families.

Noteworthy are two of my cousins, Gila and Uli. They were the children of my mother’s youngest sister. Uli was one year older and Gila two years younger than I. Their mother, my aunt, was called Irma. These three people were especially close to my heart.

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My father carried this photo of his four girls wherever he went.

I do not have any photos of my father’s side of the family. They were lost during the war.

My parents and I lived next door to my maternal grandparents, so did my aunts, uncles, and their families. We were a close-knit unit. My grandfather had bought, as a young man, a large piece of land. There he built many apartment blocks, each containing four apartments, one for each of his married children.

I cannot describe our own first home. I do not remember it well. The first years of my life, I lived and played mostly at my grandparents’ home and especially in their garden.

I have not yet introduced you to my direct family. My father was a business administrator and a soldier. He was very strict and busy, but a good man. He was not tall, but slim, had blond hair and blue eyes. He loved his children, all girls—Heidi, Bine, Irmi, and me. He kept on hoping for a boy. As a young man, he sang in a choir. He was musically inclined.

My mother was a small, cuddly soft person with beautiful black curly hair. She was a housewife and loved riding, music, and arts. I saw her paint beautiful golden leaves and roses on a black silk tablecloth. She could play the piano, and every time she played, my heart sang. Both parents had wonderful voices, and sometimes on the weekend, they would play and sing together.

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Now that you know my descendants and kin, I will begin my chronicle where you will meet some of them again.

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The Birth

It was New Year 1936. Bells were ringing; firelight rockets were exploding over the city, lighting and brightening up the sky. People were laughing, singing, and dancing: excitement was everywhere. They were saying, This will be a special year for us, we will host the Olympic games in Berlin. Many people were planning to go, so also my parents, but before the intended voyage came my birth, another sensational event.

I was my mother’s first child, a wizened-looking baby. Born in my grandmother’s home, all my aunts and a midwife surrounded my mother’s bed. I received good care; everyone cuddled, touched, and kissed me. I was an amazing child, at least to my mother and family. My father was not as happy. He had hoped for a boy.

My mother nursed me, like all mothers did at that time, but I seemed to be different. I could not keep the milk down. After every feeding, I brought every ounce of milk back up. I started to lose weight and look transparent, became light as a feather. I came close to death! My mother cried and cried.

Finally, the family called the doctor who told them that my mother was a very ill person.

Her milk is poisonous, and therefore she should not nurse her child. The trouble comes from her liver, which is infected, gallbladder juices flow into her milk and poison the milk. You must feed your child with a bottle, the doctor advised.

Because my Mutti was too ill to look after me, my two grandmothers took charge. My godmother, Aunt Dita, and Aunt Irma adopted me, and both gave me the loving care that I needed to get well. I started to grow and grow. My mother’s health improved greatly, and soon she was allowed to leave her bed.

Hurrah, all’s well that ends well. We finally could move over to our own home and start to prepare for our visit to the Olympic games.

My First Voyage

The day finally arrived. We embarked on a first-class coach on the train to Berlin. My parents and my nanny sat on wine-red velvet seats. The compartment walls were out of wood shining golden in the sun. The floor was covered with a thick dark carpet. My baby carriage was made from reed, wickerwork; painted with flowers, birds, and butterflies. It stood close to the window. I was lying in it, resting on a snow-white silk cushion surrounded by lace.

My mother leaned over me, smiled, and kissed me on the forehead. Then she straightened out my pretty little soft-green dress and coat. I was well content. Afterward I heard doors closing, a whistle blow, and the steam engine puffing, hissing, and roaring. Water vapors and black cinder flew by our window. The train started to roll to a rhythmic, mournful sound. It rumbled on and on and rocked me to sleep.

At last we arrived at our destination, the capital city of Germany, Berlin, the city of kings and people’s dreams. All I can tell you about it is that my nanny took me for rides in my carriage to a park. I was still a little baby, only three months old, and needed a lot of rest. It is hard to tell you about a place that you have seen but cannot remember, and so one

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has to tell what one hears. According to my parents and my nanny, we all enjoyed our stay in the city, visiting museums, art galleries, and the Olympic games. We cheered, laughed, and were very happy when athletes received their medals. The trip was an all-around success. My parents did not forget to visit their friends to show me off. Remember, my friend, I am their first child.

Our return voyage was without any adventure. Because I had ridden the train before, I spent most of the time sleeping. As we arrived home from our voyage, every family member was present and happy to see us, and we were glad to see them.

Years of Heartwarming

My dear friend,

Two wonderful playful years have gone by marked by two main events. First, my cousin Gila was born; then it was time for my sister Heidi to join us. I saw the stork flying over the house, so I knew right away that it had dropped my sister on my mother’s lap. I was so excited! I started to run, making enough noise for three, scrambling up the stairs, yelling, Mutti, what did the stork bring us?

Arriving upstairs, I was swept up into the arms of my nanny, holding me tight. My arms and feet were flying in every direction. I want to see the baby! I yelled. Let me go, Nanny. She told me that I needed to wait a bit, that only if I was still and quiet I would be permitted to see my mother and my newborn sister.

It was difficult for me to understand why I could not enter the bedroom right away, and as you probably know, grown-ups never give explanations.

Finally, I was permitted to tiptoe into my mother’s bedroom, and there I found this red-faced, tiny, funny-looking baby in a basket. It made some sort of noise, which I could not understand. I saw Mutti in bed. Now why did she have to be in bed during the day? I wanted to know if she were sick because the stork brought us another girl? I had heard somewhere that Papa wanted a boy. My mother was astounded to hear me mention that they did not want girls. She insisted that we were special and that she did not mind having baby girls. Mutti did not even explain why she was in bed during the daytime. Instead she hugged and kissed me and hoped that I would like my little sister. I asked her if I could play with her in the garden. When told that I had to wait a couple of years, my interest for the newcomer quickly vanished. I asked to be excused. I wanted to play outside with Uli, my best friend!

Uli, My First Love

How can I describe Uli? For me, he was the aggregate, the sun. He was my prince, my protector, my playmate, and nothing less than a little girl’s dream.

We never fought, even if I became bossy or thought up mischief. We did everything together, from building castles in the sand to picking flowers and berries for our Oma (grandmother) and helping her to feed the animals in the garden. Playing in the pond with our little pail was so much fun. We did it often.

One day we decided to catch some frogs and play with them. We carried and settled them into our little wheelbarrow. We talked to them, gave them some grass to eat, and then drove them to our tiny playhouse, where we left them for the night. This is where our Oma found them next morning, because she heard their plaintive cries. It was the first time that our sweet, gentle Oma became very angry with us. First of all, she made us take the frogs back to the pond, and then she told us that we had done something very cruel.

She said to us, Imagine yourself in a locked dark container without food and water, would you not be terrified? I know I would be! All creatures are God’s beings. We are to protect and respect them, so remember, never ever hurt any animals again!

Uli and I promised never to hurt anymore all creatures. Her gentle advice accompanied me over the years, reminding me to keep my promise.

Most of the time we behaved as good children should, but sometimes our adventurous nature needed airing. Uli wanted to visit his father’s family. He was about five years old and I four. We had found a loose board in the fence, so we could leave anytime if we felt like it by lifting the wooden plank.

A couple of days later, we decided to go visit Uli’s grandparents. We lifted the plank, squeezed through the hole, and found ourselves on the other side of the garden fence. Uli was not so sure about leaving, but I told him if he wanted to see the family, we needed to go. He then took my hand, and off we went exploring. First, we saw a large field with weeds and some trees in the distance. Along the fence, we found this hard trampled trail, which we followed. At the end of it, also being the end of the garden fence, we came to a large road where cars were passing quickly. It was a little scary.

Uli knew the way to his grandparents’ house. We turned and walked to the right then followed the street till we reached a big open place where trams and buses drove and stood. It was absolutely terrifying; I held Uli’s hand real tight. I wanted to turn around and go back home. After a little while, my little feet were hurting, and I was getting very tired. We had been walking for a long while. Many people were looking at us. A feeling of panic crept up my tummy. Uli said that we were very close, it would be better to go on, and once there, I could take a rest. Onward we went crossing this huge open place, always hoping that the buses and trams would not catch us. We made it safely across and then entered another street, Uli’s grandparents’ street. A couple of blocks down, Uli opened a heavy door into an unnaturally dark hall. I found it spooky! The staircase was to the left. We had to climb to reach Uli’s grandparents’ apartment.

A knock on the door brought a speedy response. An aunt was looking with astonishment at our faces. A call into the room had the whole family in an uproar—talking, laughing, and asking questions all at once. We were asked where we came from and why. I had lost all my courage and did not utter a single sound. Uli had to do all the explaining. He was my protector and also older than I. Granny and grandpa made us sit at the table in the living room and gave us hot chocolate to drink with cakes and sweets to eat. We had fun and enjoyed ourselves tremendously. I perked up enough to tell them about our adventure along the roads.

It did not take long