Childhood Memory of Nuremberg

There I stood at the edge of the main street in Nuremberg and didn't realize the history I was witnessing. I was 4 years old and the American army rolled into Nuremberg. It was a boiling hot summer's day, the tar on the street was melting. The soldiers were sitting in their jeep, smiling and waving back. They threw sweets and chewing gum. Now chewing gum was not known to us and my older brother gave me one. I chewed it and the moment the sugar was gone, I swallowed it. My brother thought this will be end of me and was worried how to tell our mother.

We were told in those days that a stork was bringing the babies. That stork had the nerve not only to drop me in the worst time in history but also in Nuremberg. If I get hold of it, it will have some feather missing.

There I was and bombs flying around my little ears. Down into the cellar and in the morning up again. I took it as part of life and when the sirens went I took my doll and marched off. In those days we did get dressed to go to bed.

I don't know whether my parents were involved heavily or not. Nobody talked about that time. The only thing, I can think of, is that when they had all those hearings, about being an active Nazi or not, my father was not sentenced. When the Allies came in, every man had to report to them and was kept in a camp till they had their hearing. Both my parents are dead now for a long time.

Coming back to my 'little' experiences or part in history. One day my mother and I went into town and there was a tall soldier, mind you when you are small everybody looks tall, and he tried quickly to give me an orange. I nearly fainted. There came out quickly a hand towards me, turned over and there was that orange coloured ball in it. My mother grasping the situation quickly said something and took the orange. To begin with the army was not allowed to give anything because they would have given the impression to be on the side of the Germans.

The men of Nuremberg received as a last command to report to the American army. My father dutiful as he was marched off to the nearest camp. There he went into the office and to his horror a soldier, maybe even an officer, sat at his desk with the feet on the desk. Now I have to point out that, as you know, the Germans at that time were coming out a more than a precise, correct and perfect discipline time. The soldier's chewing gum flying around in his mouth.

My father stated that he supposed to report to the US army. The soldier said, 'go home'. Now that really done it. My father was told to report to the army and report he will. The soldier said again, 'go home'. Most properly he had enough of filling in the details. So my father thought that man doesn't seem to understand me and tried again. I wouldn't like to know how many more times but at the end that soldier got fed-up with him and just to get rid of him, put him into camp. Our father told us that later on and we laughed at him for years. Mind you men who didn't report and were picked up later, weren't handled gently.

After many months we were allowed to visit my father. Now we were told to walk along the camp and not to wave. The army thought it might have been a signal, or anything else. There we went along the fence of the camp but with a huge space between them and us. There were soldiers going up and down in between with rifles and the safety catch off. So far so good, until I saw my father and he stood there crying. I started a tantrum and I mean a tantrum. I still remember that. Yelling, " I want to go to my daddy, I want to go to my daddy and give him a kiss. I want to give him a kiss". I was four years old. Now the soldiers became alert to say the least because they thought my mother set me up to give him a sign. My brother already turn white and a soldier came over quickly with the rifle in front of him. My mother said to my brother don't get scared of that idiot. We didn't know that the soldiers could speak German. That soldier went berserk, my brother, as always when there was danger, started running, beating all the world records. The soldier started lifting the rifle. My mother never flapped and hit his rifle down. He was yelling,"You called me an idiot". My mother quickly turn the 'insult' around and assured him that she called her son an idiot. Slowly the situation started to calm down. Now we were left with a job to find my brother because he just ran straight down. I don't remember what happened then but I guess we found him because we still got him.

Later on we were allowed to visit my father inside a barrack. There we were led in on one side of a really high wooden barrier. My father and the other men were led in on the other side. On both sides there were soldiers with rifles. My mother and father were talking and after a while I must have got bored and started fidgeting. A soldier of the American army got hold of me and taught me the song 'it's a long way to Tiperary' and 'Silent night, holy night' in English which I never forgot. He most properly was longing for his family and had very young children.