Refugee in search of a homeland

Then Herr Wunder introduced me to the staff, from the most senior employee, who was the main accountant and had an office to herself, to the most junior apprentice, Walter Meyer. Walter had met us at the counter when we arrived, and he was going to be my mentor. All wore white dust coats over their clothes. Across the corridor were two secretaries, busily typing away on their type writers. They too wore white dust coats. The last room was occupied by Jürgen Siemering, who was having a chat at that moment with Onkel Wilhelm.

"Well, I hope you will settle in here. You will find us all very friendly, but we do expect accurate and punctual work. See you on Monday." I was left standing on my own in the long corridor.

Soon Onkel Wilhelm appeared with Jürgen Siemering. We were introduced and I thought he was very friendly. After we had left the office, Onkel Wilhelm asked: "What do you think?"

"I was very surprised. I'm sure I will like it here. People seem very friendly and the work seems to be very interesting. Herr Wunder showed me around, and I particularly like the look of the sample room."

"Well, I'm glad. I'm going to leave you for an hour or so in the Ratskeller. Have some coffee and read a paper. I'll come and pick you up when I have finished my other business. Afterwards we are going to have lunch with Frau von Guenther."

I had heard of the von Guenther family, who had lived in the province of Posen, but I couldn't think who they were.

"They had a property in the North of Posen. Your Grandfather and old Bill were friends. He had done his apprenticeship on Bill's father's farm Ñ it goes back a long time. You will like Frau von Guenther. She lost her husband (Bill's son) towards the end of the war and is left now with her small son. Her family comes from Bremen and she knows a lot of people here. She will be of great help to you."

I settled in a comfortable chair in the Ratskeller, ordered a pot of tea and after a while I dozed off. Onkel Wilhelm shook me by the shoulders: "Wake up, Dieter, you can't sleep here all day."

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't keep my eyes open." "Let's go."

We caught a tram from the Marktplatz and arrived half an hour later at Frau von Guenther's flat. She opened the door for us. She was small in stature but round and jolly, very friendly and welcomed us warmly. A real live wire, I thought. Her son Wolfgang was five, a lovely boy with big brown eyes and his mother's smile.

I was introduced by Onkel Wilhelm. "May I call you Dieter?"

"Yes please, that makes me feel more at home." But she didn't offer me to call her Berta, and since German convention does not allow a younger person to call an older by first name, without being asked, I kept calling her Frau von Guenther.

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