Fifteen years in a childhood paradise

stumbled over the uneven road, because it was hard to see the unevenness in the moon light. In the distance, now closer than last night, we could hear the gunfire and see also the light of the explosions. This spurred us on, and after about an hour we reached the outskirts of Posen.

"Hey Walter, what's the matter with you?" I called out when I saw him heaving his heavy suitcase over the front fence of a house, where it came crashing down on the frozen earth.

"It's too heavy." "I could have helped you Walter. Look, I have only this little bag around my belt. Lost all of my things in the fire."

"No, thanks, I didn't need that stuff anyway." "You are lucky, with so little," Albert noticed. "Every cloud has a silver lining, Albert."

The foot path was even more slippery than the road before. We made only very slow progress.

"Look, there's a tram!" someone shouted. "May be we can get it started?"

"Let me try," said Walter, "I have driven one before." First he put the arm up to connect the tram with the electricity grid. Then he turned the starter wheel on, but É there was no power.

"Bad luck chum. Would have been good to put our suitcases on." Full of frustration, Walter stepped several times on the lever to the bell. The tinny tram bell sounded eerie in the otherwise empty street at this hour of the morning.

It was a pity that Walter had failed to get the tram moving. It meant that we had to walk all the 15 km to the station in these icy conditions. I was quite hot by now, and my perspiration seemed to freeze on the skin. So we just had to walk. Every now and again I could hear the thud of a bag or a suitcase landing on the frozen ground over a front fence somewhere. So much for our worldly possessions, I thought. I was glad I was spared such a decision.

The homes along the street all seemed empty and deserted. There was no sign of life in the streets. Had all people been able to leave? Slowly our group moved towards the centre of Posen, in a very unmilitary fashion, more like a bunch of refugees.

The 22nd January dawned. We were still on our way, but not much further to go. Soon we entered the plaza on the east side of the station. This was a very familiar sight to me, as our tram had taken us along this plaza to school countless times. Those days seemed ages ago. We had to line up and wait.

In a short while another group of FLAK helpers appeared from a different direction. This was Bernd's unit. Was I glad to see him again! We stood and chatted.

"Vater phone me on the 20th. They still hadn't gone by then. It was about 10 am when he phoned."

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