The rainbow never sets

into Hoppenstedt, already in the eastern zone. I caught the next train to Halberstadt, and on to Quenstedt. The last kilometer and a half was almost a pleasure to walk, although I was tired by then. The village of Emersleben greeted me from afar and I knew then that I had made it. I would be home for Christmas after all! It was a happy family reunion, when I stepped into the dining room, where all were eating their evening meal.

On 1 January 1948 we heard through the news that the British and the US zones had amalgamated to form one economic zone. They hoped that the French zone would be joined later. Meanwhile an administrative council had been created to normalise the economy in occupied Germany. Food supplies until that time had been so precarious, that had a supply ship arrived late, it would have resulted in mass starvation. This administrative council eventually organised an election of delegates to Bonn, whose main task was to formulate a constitution for Germany.

"This can only mean, that the border between East and West Germany will gradually be closed off completely," said Vater, who usually saw things rather pessimistically.

"I hope not. How would I be able to visit you then?" "Maybe that's just it, you won't be able to come here again. It seems so terribly unjust, to divide a nation, and to divide families in the process."

"But I would much rather be in the West than here!" "Of course, but that's not the point. Germany must remain one nation. We are one people, one culture, one language." "You wouldn't think so in Kerstlingerode!" "What do you mean?"

"The accent there, it's terrible. At first I couldn't understand what they were saying. But it's better now, I am more used to it."

My holidays came to an end only too soon. I wasn't really looking forward to working on the farm again, but duty bound, I went. I decided to go back the same way I came. It seemed a good crossing with nobody guarding the border, and I was lucky again. No one stopped me.

Back at Kerstlingerode life went on in a most monotonous way. I did not enjoy the life of a small farmer. It was dreary and uninteresting. But it had one good point. There was plenty of good food available, which at the age of 19 was still important, and my body had become much stronger over the past months. It had not been always easy, though.

Sometimes our farm was called upon to help out a neighbour with the threshing of corn. There were never enough workers on one farm to man the threshing machine, so this was done on a co-operative basis. Herr Hoffmeister sent two or three of his men, and the other farmers would do the same when our turn came.

Threshing time was like a big feast. The farmers' wives would try to outdo each other by providing more and better food for the borrowed workers. There was so much of it, that we all ate too much, but then again

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