The rainbow never sets

On 3 October 1953 we celebrated the first wedding in the family: my cousin Bernd and Ingrid. They were married in Oberbalzheim, where Ingrid's parents lived. I attended the wedding with Mutter and Onkel Wilhelm and Tante Margaret Forstmann. Vater had just started a job, so he couldn't join us. On Friday was the traditional Polterabend, a relaxed get-together of family and friends with speeches, stories, and short skits about the young couple to be married. Mutter with her gift for poetry had composed in verse some episodes of Bernd's life, which were much appreciated. The wedding took place in the village church and half the village seemed to be watching from the side. It was a memorable occasion. The reception was in the manor house, in a style we were used to in Poland.

The last time I played tennis in Bremen was on 11 October. It was later in the season than the years before, as the autumn had been exceptionally warm and beautiful. Looking back I find that tennis had been a real highlight for me in Bremen. By the end of 1953 I played it reasonably well, and I had always enjoyed it very much. But as pressure was mounting for me to leave Germany, I hoped that this would have been my last time of tennis there.

Frau Häseker, my land lady, had worked in England at some stage and was fluent in English. She kept up with her friends from there and from America. One of them came from Australia. Since Peter had written, that the most important preparation I could make for overseas was learning as much English as I could, I asked her to coach me. I started in mid October.

We did mainly conversation, and I became aware that I had to learn a lot of new words which I didn't know. In addition to improving my English considereably in a short time, I also got closer to Frau Häseker. One day I asked her about her friend from Australia, where he worked.

"In Bremen-Lesum. He is the Migration Officer of the Intergovernmental Committee for European Migration. Why are you asking?"

"I just wondered what the work situation would be in Australia. Would he know anything about it?"

"You can always ask him." "You see, I don't seem to be able to get a job lined up, and so I was wondering if it were possible to go to Australia without a firm job? I thought, once I am there, I'm bound to find work, any work, even if it is not in the wool trade."

"I'll give you his address." I wrote to him, getting Frau Häsecker to correct my English. My friend Peter Spies didn't think it was such a good idea going overseas without a job lined up, but then he didn't want to advise against it either. Actually, his letter encouraged me, as he said there were usually plenty of opportunities to get jobs. That, of course, applied to South Africa. Why should it be different in Australia?

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