Refugee in search of a homeland

Meanwhile I did learn how to milk cows. There was a course in the neighbouring village on caring for cows. Herr Hoffmeister suggested that I should attend it. Apart from teaching us how to milk cows, the course included total care of cows, recognising symptoms when they are sick, and good feeding methods. At the end of this course I received a certificate. From then on I had more confidence in handling cows, and Helga was happy to hand over to me her three cows. Martha kept hers, and from then on, my first job each morning was to milk the cows.

There was one mishap, though, before I felt more confident. One cow of mine gave a lot of milk, usually more than a bucket full in one milking. She was also a bit nervous, and at first she was not used to me. One morning when I had milked almost a bucket full, she suddenly kicked out with her left foot and stepped right into the bucket with the milk, tipping it all out. I was very upset, but Martha said, "you need to put your head right into her side so that she can feel you there. Also talk to her occasionally, that way she won't do it again."

It was true, from that time on I had no more trouble with any of the cows.

I especially liked milking the cows in summer, when they were left outside in the paddock over night. To sit there and look at the pretty scenery, the cows contented and chewing their cud, was a lovely peaceful activity which I enjoyed.

We usually didn't do any work on Sundays in the fields, but the animals still had to be cared for. I didn't mind the mornings, but it grated me to have to come back from Onkel Werner's each Sunday afternoon, just for milking my three cows and feeding them. I felt I never got away from my work. I suggested to Martha that on Sunday afternoons one of us could milk all six cows while the other would be free. I also made a similar arrangement with Heinz to feed the cattle. It was great to leave the farm on my days off in the mornings, about 10 am, and come back sometimes late on Sunday nights. I always loved my fortnightly free day and most of the time I would go over to Rittmarshausen and spend it with Onkel Werner, Tante Margaret and Bernd.

All three of them were heavy smokers, and one day I tried it too. As real cigarettes were still very scarce, they usually smoked their home grown tobacco, either rolled into cigarettes, or just from their pipes. I didn't really enjoy smoking, and I would only light up the occasional cigarette for company. One evening I observed Tante Margaret cleaning her pipe. There seemed to be a filter there, but that one was completely black, and a lot of black thickly gooey guck came out of the stem of her pipe. I felt almost sick when I saw that.

"Is that the stuff we inhale when we smoke?" "It does look horrible," she admitted, "But then smoking itself is really very nice."

I didn't agree with her. "It can't be good for us if we inhale all that black

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