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Father Ernst Klopp had been ordered from our original residence in the Pomeranian county of Belgard into the Land of the Warthe to hand over expropriated Polish estates to Baltic Germans, who had been resettled primarily from Latvia.
My brother Adolf and I were boarding with a family in Belgard to attend a secondary school. From there began on March 3 rd , the flight into a westerly direction.
To what degree do memories committed to paper reflect the truth? This document limits itself to the presentation of direct impressions and experiences and sparsely delves into explanations.
Therefore it avoids them unless absolutely necessary. Due to the regrettable loss of a diary that I had kept since my early childhood days, most likely lost in a hay barn on the trek to the West, it is impossible for the sequence of events to be authentic.
Also subsequent inserts of military and historical value, or attempts of this nature were unproductive. The Wehrmacht reports, which one can read in the archives, and the historical works by authors based on the former — as far as they could be controlled by personal, absolutely authentic facts — lagged behind the events and even jumped ahead of them.
Why did the defence and party headquarters choose the evening to evacuate the civilian population? Without any further discussions the group marched in the direction to the exit road leading to Kolberg in order to reach the coast.
Halfway there we stopped in the middle of the night for shelter in the village of Leikow. Some luggage was in the handcart, on which also the children were sitting.
Soon we realized that the family did not want to go farther. I was sent back the following evening to Belgard on a bicycle that I had been pushing to get a briefcase with documents belonging to one of their grown-up boys out of the house at the Schidlitz.
We recognized how close the front line was by the fire in the village of Lülfitz, which was located north of the Kolberg road, which led in a westerly direction to the coast.
In that direction stood also a train recognizable by the stream of sparks: Certainly the railroad line had already been cut.
March 6 th was the day of separation from my room and board mother, who later had walked back to her house in Belgard with her daughters and grandchildren.
As a direct consequence of global warming, the Canada geese that used to fly south to escape our harsh winters prefer to stay in the Arrow Lakes region.
On the Fauquier golf course, they find lots of green grass, even though they may have to dig it up from under the snow. Recently, I observed snow geese which had joined the flocks of Canada geese.
They seemed to get along quite well with their cousins. I created a very brief video documenting this rather rare event.
In view of the relocation of armaments factories, Reich authorities and the military to Thuringia, the British in particular pressed for a massive bombing of the Erfurt traffic junction.
The attack was initially scheduled for April 2nd and was then postponed twice. On April 4, the Royal Air Force was to launch a double attack on Erfurt and Nordhausen.
While the city in the southern Harz had to lament thousands of victims and the total destruction of its old town a few hours later, Erfurt remained unscathed.
What happened? The US ground forces under General George S. It would have meant certain death for my uncle, aunt and Erika and Adolf].
And it was decided that Adolf and I were to join Mother in southwest Germany. The necessary papers arrived and we were on our way.
The train took us close to the border and we walked the rest of the way. Two Russian border guards saw us coming and questioned us.
After studying our valid papers allowing us to pass, they just tore them up. We were stunned at such injustice, after all we were 15 Adolf and 13 years old myself.
The soldiers shooed us off, one of them pointing at his gun, in case we had any ideas of returning. We left seeking shelter behind a haystack and began to weigh our options on what to do next.
Adolf wanted to return to Erfurt, but I would have none of it. I picked up my stuff carefully avoiding the guardhouse. Now a steady rain had begun.
It seemed like a long time. By the time we got to a small railway station, we were exhausted, yet very much relieved that we were in the West.
Two French border guards approached us demanding to see our papers, — no wonder, we looked like runaways. Adolf handled the situation quite well and we were allowed to board the train.
In Nuremberg we found the Red Cross Refugee Camp, where we received food and shelter. Several kilometres more on foot and we arrived in Rohrdorf.
What a relief for all of us to join our mother and the two youngest brothers again after such a long separation! Collecting stories from family historians who are climbing their family trees and planning trips to where their ancestors actually lived!
In the kingdom of life, with the strokes of the brush, the bow and the pen, artists have sowed their hearts to contrive, fields rivalling in beauty the Garden of Eden.
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