Refugee in search of a homeland

"I have not only found a place for our horses, but I have been offered a job as well."

Then he told us about the administrator's position in Emersleben, and that it came with a flat.

"Oh, Alfred, to have again a place of our own, would be absolutely wonderful! With so many of us refugees around, we would never get a place for us. Let's go there, please."

"I have already agreed to start there on Monday. There is only one snag: the widow of the former administrator still lives in the flat. As soon as she is out, you can follow me."

Vater's new-found job changed our situation completely. From then on we were no longer considered to be refugees or second class citizens, who were barely tolerated, but we felt like normal people again, whose bread winner had a proper job.

Vater started work there on 12 May. The flat did not become vacant for another nine weeks, though. Until then he came to visit us over weekends several times.

We continued picking cherries. Apart from eating as many cherries as we could, we had also plenty of time to gossip. There had been a persistent rumour that our area would be occupied by the Russians. We just couldn't believe it. How would the Americans hand over to the Russians a territory which they had occupied themselves? It could not be true. But those rumours intensified. My parents became quite alarmed one evening, when they heard that some friends of theirs were getting nervous. They had fled from the Russians many years ago from the Baltic states. They didn't want to get into Russian hands now, so they packed their belongings and headed further west. Could it be possible after all? We were confused.

Where could we go to? Particularly, as Vater had found a job and good accommodation for us, the whole family under one roof, we would not be so lucky again. Vater and Mutter discussed these things with us all and we decided not to do anything for the moment. Should something develop in the future, we could always go then.

Next morning was Sunday, it was 1 July 1945. I was getting ready to go to church, when the 'Jeremiah' girl from our neighbour shouted over the fence: "The Russians are here."

We hadn't noticed anything in our isolated corner. I just couldn't believe it. "Well, go and see for yourself."

On my way to the main road I picked up Heinz. "Let's go to the shops. We might see some there." As we turned into the main road, we saw in front of the pub a contingent of four or five Russian soldiers, talking together.

"This is outrageous," Heinz could no longer contain his anger. "The rumours were right then. I just can't believe it."

"Let's go into the newsagent, he is open. He is usually on the ball."

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