Ilse's War Story - From the book: Jugend Unterm Schicksal (Youth Under Destiny) by Christian Werner Verlag - Hamburg Ilse B. 18 years old We had not noticed much of the war until then although it had already lasted five and a half years. We trembled because we only lived a few kilometers off the polish border. Only if one thought of it, many women and mothers received harrowing news daily, did one become suddenly conscious that there was a war on. Or if one heard that Russian troops advanced on and on, then one became suddenly fearful. What had the East Prussian refugees said, who we had accommodated in the city some days before? "Just don't think about it!" The Sunday morning about which I want to tell was calm. The sun glittered on the snow, everything was peaceful. I wanted to leave the house with ice skates.1 Suddenly I became cruelly aware that there was no time for it, that there was a war on. A phone call came. A call? Something must be happening! Soon, I learned that Russian point tanks had broken through in the night and could be stopped only 60 miles from Friedland.2 Panic prevailed in the city. In the afternoon we received permission from the school to go home. I was at a boarding school. The suitcases were quickly packed and brought to the railway station. All day and night we remained at the railway station without succeeding to push our way into a train. If only we could get away. 87 Once a soldier hid us in a boxcar, however, another threw us out again to our luck, the train was destined for the front. After 30 hours of despair waiting we towed our suitcases downheartedly five kilometers back into the city. On the street drove refugee wagons one behind the other. We heard that many children were frostbitten on the escape. How will we get home now? Should we go on foot? The school would not allow it. It was very cold, the snow lay high, and the way was 70 kilometers (35 miles). Also, one could not telephone any longer. Finally, two days later, the father of my friend, also from Baldenburg, picked us up with his car. He was a doctor and had given a certificate to the driver that he must pick up these sick children. Private cars were only allowed to run in particular cases.3 Often the car was inspected, but they allowed us to drive home unhindered. Baldenburg belonged to Dangerzone 1, and received the next day, Pack-orders . A few days later evacuation orders were given. One did not have the time to say farewell to their friends. Quickly, the most necessary things were packed in and loaded into wagons. We drove with my aunt and the whole village.4 It was hopeless to take a train. So our escape began on the 29th of January at noon. Up to the evening , we had only put 13 km back and reached the next village. There were often standstills, because the wagons drove so crowded. Often, the horses could not go forward In the high snow. They probably never had to pull so heavy a load. 88 The people threw more and more off their wagons into the ditch; radios, crates with canned goods, suitcases with wash, and other heavy things. The most important was the feed for the horses. That they had to keep. My mother drove a big sleigh full of grain for our horses. My aunt drove a wagon, and the foreign workers drove the remaining wagons. I had to go with the dog on the side, First I was pulled on my toboggan from a wagon, but I had soon given it to a servant, who was exhausted. I would rather run anyway. One didn't freeze so very much . It was cold and we sensed it even though we were all wrapped in long underwear and fur coats. It snowed continually. I tramped along with the dog through the snow beside the wagon and it annoyed me that we were not progressing more quickly. In the evening we came into a village where we could hardly cross the street. The wagons stood densely packed and people ran around and looked for housing for themselves and their horses. Children looked crying for their family members. I also wanted most of all to cry. My feet were sore, and I wanted to be sleeping on a bed. But first, we had to provide for the horses. Finally we found a place for them in a barn outside the village and housing for us in one area where already six persons laid on the floor: two servants, two children and two old people. The children couldn't sleep on the hard ground and cried. The old people wailed because they didn't know if they should progress on the next day. 89 Only the two exhausted boys slept soundly on the hard cold earth. They had put back 60 km daily to escape the Russians in the Warthegau.5 It continued the next morning. The flurry had become even stronger, and we advanced only ten kilometers forward the whole day. Towards evening we reached a property where one had already prepared their departure. The next day brought clear winter weather, and we progressed more quickly. As a goal for the day we decided to go to a big village. Not far from it, a jeep passed us going to this village and it took me. I hoped that the caravan would soon follow. In the village, I was first given something to eat in the refugee kitchen. The whole place was full of refugees. Finally some old people took me with them. In the morning there was still nothing to see of our group. Everyone said to me that I would not find my group in this chaos, and that I should only see that I made progress. However, I put myself down at a window and observed the street. I looked for some hours before I saw my mother with our Ukrainian woman pass by searching for me. I learned that everyone was very worried about me. Our group had stopped in a village and taken up quarters last night. We were forced to remain there for a few days. The country roads should be kept free for the military and should not be allowed to become clogged with refugees. We lived day to day only on radio news. We were relieved to hear that the Russian troops had been brought to a standstill. 90 Finally, my aunt sent the two Poles and a wagon, back home so that they could keep an eye on the livestock. It was only 70km back from there. I too went to Baldenburg in order to see how it would look with all the population gone. Many military men were there because the city formed an important knot-point in the Eastern Front. Through a misunderstanding, the Poles in Baldenburg and on the next day drove back to the trek group. I lived alone a week long, until the whole trek came back worried about my fate. One hoped the German front would come to a standstill. Also they asked again and again, "Where shall we go?" if Germany loses the war and become wholly occupied. And they longed for a home again after these days of wandering around the country. More and more people came back from the escape. They also absolutely needed us in Baldenburg. I was first employed, the whole day long helping refugees to pull through. Even I had now experienced it, how hard it is, not to be able to be at home. These people came from far, Latvia, Estonia, and even from the Black Sea. One day, many refugees came from the area of my school. I learned that for three days long, the Russians had occupied Friedland, and that many friends were carried off and some friends were even dead. Now it would have been advisable for us to leave again, but the thought of the days on the country roads and spending nights in strange houses, we all discarded thoughts of escaping again. 91 Now and then Russian tanks pushed forward, and once they were only 14km away from the city. Sometimes airplanes grasped at us, destroyed the railway station, and shot refugee wagons in pieces with machine guns. For us children, I was 16 years old at that time, that was an event, and we didn't feel the danger very much. Also, as Russian airplanes shot at whoever was digging trenches in front of the city, with machine guns, we were not as afraid, as our family was about us. The days required much work of us. I was put together with 16 boys, and we helped the soldiers at the fortification. Despite the many bunkers at the shores of the 20km long chain of lakes, there was in the middle of the lakes a four-meter wide tank ditch in the ice. That, however, froze over again soon, and day after day we dug holes for shelters in the hard, frozen ground. And the Russians came - it was a Sunday again, the 25th of February. We sat with our billeted soldiers drinking coffee as the city was suddenly shot at. We ran out into the yard. The same moment, a projectile roared directly over the roof. My mother cried out shrilly, beating the hands before her face and fell back into the house. The soldiers got their bazookas silently. Then we knew - Russian tanks! After some hours agonizing wait in the air raid shelter, the fight was apparently finished. Allegedly, only six tanks penetrated into the city and dispersed. Four were shot down in the streets, while two sought after wilderness. Now we wanted to go to soothing sleep around 1 o'clock, there came the command that 92 we would have to leave the city in one hour. If we had suspected, that on the other city end the Russians already in all the houses tormented the population, we would probably not sleep so quietly. And then began the shelling anew. As I stepped into the yard, I saw in the main street, 200 meters away from me, the first Russian tanks drive past. They shot with machine guns into the side streets. I ran, pulling my mother with me, and we succeeded, at the houses winding along continuously, to reach the city border. Everywhere we bumped into groups of soldiers, and every time we believed it was already Russians, because the personnel's of several tanks should have escaped. The tank barriers at the city exit were not yet lowered, and so we reached the free country road. And we ran, ran, ran in night and rain. Soldiers and refugee wagons with exhausted horses and crying children passed us; friends shut themselves to us. Everyone had only a little hand baggage. Only onward! Onward! - And continually streamed the rain.... At dawn we reached the 18 km distant city Bublitz. We were so exhausted that we first went at once to friends, in order to rest although it would have been advisable to run further. As we awakened there at noon, Russian tanks stood also before this city. Again the shelling began. The hostile tanks stood on a hill not far from the city and sent their grenades at the houses from there, and they were only a little hindered by a German tank train. We also saw here, in the late afternoon, the first Russian tanks in the streets. 93 We sat with 20 people in a room. Towards morning, the first Russians entered into the house, looking for watches, and dispersed German soldiers. At the end of the day the whole city had a different appearance. In the meantime however, we only saw Russian soldiers from the window. We were not allowed to go into the street. One man, who looked from the front door, was immediately shot. The whole city was full of Russians. Tank after tank rattled through the streets further westward. Stalin-organs6 rolled past, immense masses of Russian soldiers drove boisterously forward, "to Berlin!" they shouted. Soon, it became impossible for us to stay in the busy street. Drunk soldiers came continually into the house. Finally, we simply ran into the street, my mother and I, and we succeeded to get to friends unhindered. They lived in a garden center at the outskirts. By the evening we had to stop and hide in a greenhouse, because Russians were in the house. A week long, the winter garden of the garden center offered us housing, in which one could not find us so easily. It consisted of two rooms, built behind the house, in which we eleven persons could live. We had to be really quiet, so as not to betray ourselves. Only at night did we dare to go out into the greenhouse and in the cellar to search for something to eat. Soon there was a Russian gun dug in, not far off from the house, that fired day and night. Three days long, Bublitz lay in the front-area. Once the Russians began to go back, and we rejoiced, although the house trembled because of that nearby impacts. Once also German Stukas came 94 and brought the Russian artillery heavy losses. We could observe everything from the windows. But our joy was for nothing. Our troops didn't come back. In the following night, the Russians shot the city in a blaze with tracer ammunition. They poured oil in our house and ignited it. We hoped to be able to rescue the winter garden. It stood with only one wall to the house and had a concrete ceiling. We had carried in four full vats of water. We had thrown all the furniture from the adjacent room in the already blazing next room, so that the fire next door would not become so strong, and we constantly moistened the wall pushing up against the house with help of a garden hose. The winter garden didn't burn. Outdoors, a dreadful sight presented itself to us. Everything around us burned. The sparks sprayed into the night-like air and danced around homeless people who were rushing through the streets. Many people sought protection with us in the cellar and in the greenhouses. For us, it was fine that the house was burned. So, nobody suspected behind the debris there were still people. Only after a week Russian officers found us. They took me, supposedly to work. My mother didn't leave me alone. They brought us into a church, in which already approximately 500 people were driven together. I also saw classmates there, who asked me, to have no fear, they had already been in Warsaw and had been brought back again. And now happened a miracle: My mother and I, of all the people, were allowed to go home already after a quarter of an hour. 95 Why? We still wonder over it today. All, who were with us there, were carried off into the Urals. Many are still there. Most are probably dead. An officer who brought us home threatened that I must go with him to Siberia. He would come in the next morning to get me. My mother and I went in the dawn on the way to friends. They owned a farmyard two kilometers from the city. Unhindered, we reached the country road. Only with difficulty, we progressed. We were completely weakened, because, during the last few weeks, we had eaten hardly anything. At the street, we saw wagons beside wagons, shot to pieces, from approaching tanks, pushed into the ditches. Dead people laid beside them or in them. We saw tanks that the refugees had passed. Some weeks long, we lived moderately quietly in the farmyard of our friend. Only if we saw Russians coming we sat in our hiding places. We were three young girls there, and we were sick with fear. In the neighboring farmyard, were seven young girls two months long in the cellar hiding, without once coming out. One day, Poles who farmed the neighboring property, found us and got us to work. After that day, we worked from there on this property. We had to go there in secret ways, so as not to be seen by the Russians. I had to first help in the cow stall, and then I "was allowed" to work in the Russian dairy, besides another German girl and me, there were only Poles and Russians. A Russian "soldier girl " had the supervision. 96 There, we two Germans then had to carry the burden for everything that these girls suffered throughout their deportation in Germany. In the beginning of June, when streets had become safer, my mother and I went back to my home city of Baldenburg. Baldenburg was also completely destroyed. Through the window holes of the ruins one could see through to the city-end. Our house was one of the few that were unharmed. However, other people lived in it, and we found no place. In vain, we looked for housing with my aunt in the neighboring village, (Stremlau). Her house was Russian Headquarters, and she lived with many other people in a small house together. Finally we found place in our home afterall. All people were surprised as they saw me. There were not many other girls in the city. Some came back in the course of time from Graudenz, where they were carried off, and where they were confined for two months. Most had died in Graudenz, or died on the retreat from there, particularly because of the poisoned coffee, that they must drink with dismissal. In Baldenburg, I was first ordered, by the Polish mayor to work. The country was slowly becoming Polish. Then I had to work for the Russian headquarters, a while in the laundry, a while in the kitchen, on the field or in the headquarters. One received then at least daily, 500 g of bread and sometimes some milk. The remaining nourishment we got from fruits that grew in prodigal fullness in the abandoned gardens. 97 About the time-event, we learned nothing. We did not even know whether the war was finished. The Russians had delight in confusing us. One day a poster was put up in the city, it said that all, who wanted to emigrate to Germany, should report to the Polish mayor's office. I did this instantaneously, because I had already forged escape-plans for months. In November we received a " emigrant-ticket" for Germany, and on the 30 November 1945 began our trip. The Pole, with his family, already for months we had lived in the house together, drove us to Neustettin, to the railway station. There were no rails on the railway lines. We had to sell almost all our belongings, to get together the money for the tickets. They took the remaining things from us on the way. The trip was dreadful. Worst was that I was dragged off in Stargard Poland. I had to work eight hours long for a Polish family. When I came back again to the railway station, I did not find my mother. I despaired after five hours of searching. I proceeded to the border alone. At the border-station I had to wait all night long on the platform. I was hungry, and I was freezing, because one of my gloves had been taken. The next morning the Berlin train came to pick us up. One terrible crush began. Nobody wanted to remain behind. Alone and without luggage, I could easily push myself in through a window. Happily, I saw the same evening, the lights of the Federal-capital shining. I found the way to friends, to whom also my mother and my aunt a week later arrived. 98 They had told them in Stargard; I would be brought to Warsaw. There they both continued on foot8, so as not also to be carried off. We were infinitely glad that again without fear we could live. 1 Ilse says she skated a little every day. 2 Ilse went to school in Preussich Friedland, 30 miles from Baldenburg. 3 Not many people had cars. All cars were confiscated for the war. The doctor sent the driver to pick up his own 3 children and Ilse. 4 Ilse fled with her mother, aunt, and a polish prisoner (a music student), a Ukrainian woman, and 3 wagons. 5 Warthegau was the region around the city of Poznan. It was one of the administrative districts of Poland annexed by the Reich in 1939. The distance between Poznan and Baldenburg was right around 100 miles. 6 Katyusha Rockets were called Stalin Organs. They were multiple rocket launchers, destructive and feared. The Germans said anyone caught operating this weapon would not be taken alive. 7 Graudenz was 80 miles away. It is now Grudziadz, 65 miles south of Gdansk, Poland. 8 They had walked all the way across the Oder River.