Fifteen years in a childhood paradise

step on a lever which hooked into a notch on both wheels. This lifted the rake and released the straw, which still had to be thrashed. We had to make sure that the bits we raked together were all placed in one row, so that when the corn was brought in it was easier to load on the carts.

I told him that at times it was quite tiring work. We had to get up at five in the morning, and didn't come home much before 7 pm. Although the hours were long it was not boring to sit all day long on these rakes.

"I like it very much. The whole field is yours, perhaps 30 or up to 50 hectares. I can listen to the larks singing in the sky, or watch perhaps a doe jumping across the field, or a hare, or very occasionally a trappe, a large grey bird. There is also plenty of time for day-dreaming. When the warm sun is higher in the sky we take off our shirts and sing or talk to ourselves. Mutter always packs us something for breakfast or afternoon tea, nice things, you know. We have to come home for lunch, as the horses need to be fed and watered. That is also part of our job. Horses always come first, then we can go home for lunch."

"Have you been doing this for long?" "No, we only started this year." "And for how long does this last?" "Practically throughout the school holidays, starting with barley early July, then rye, wheat, and the last is oats. We finished last month. When my parents asked us if we wanted to go somewhere for our holidays, we just said 'no'. Even to come to Opa's birthday, they had to persuade us first. I guess we look at it as our job, for which we get paid, so we can't just run away from it any time it suits us. On our way home in the evening, we are really tired. Then we just sing to ourselves, or listen to the Polish women singing on top of the fully laden harvesting carts."

"I don't know whether I would like it." "You might get used to it?"

"Maybe." "What else is there to see in this yard?" "Come, I'll show you."

We crossed a cobbled area, and I showed him the pigs. They were just for our own use, as we didn't sell any. Then I had to explain to Helmut, how Mutter had become well known for her recipes for liverwurst and salami, and how a couple of workers had to do the killing near our house. One of the men took a big wooden hammer and hit the pig between the eyes. One hit stunned the pig. It just slumped down. Only if he missed, the pig would give a loud squeak. Then an artery was cut in the neck with a sharp knife, and the other man had to catch the blood in a large bowl. The blood had to be stirred vigorously by hand to stop it from coagulating. Later it was used for blutwurst (black pudding). Then the pig's carcass was heaved into a trough and boiling hot water poured over it, to remove the bristles and to clean it properly everywhere.

"Are you allowed to watch all this?"

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