Fifteen years in a childhood paradise

Meanwhile, the coaches had arrived. After a small refreshment, we all went off again to start on the next circle, in a different area. I only shot one hare this time, and wasted quite a few bullets on those that got away. When we met again, sandwiches were handed around and drinks for everyone. The third and last circle finished about 4 p.m. By then it was getting dark, and I had very sore legs from all the walking. But it had been a great day. I had always loved to go on a hunt, accompanying other shooters, but this time I was on my own with a gun. I almost felt a grown-up.

In good old tradition, the evening meal was a great social occasion. All the ladies, who had not participated in the hunt, had arrived. The hunters had time to change into formal dress, and in no time the meal was in full swing. The table extended several leaves on either side and could seat 24 comfortably.

Franz was the drink waiter. He wore white gloves, and in his livery he looked very smart. Our house maid and a woman from the village were dressed in black with white aprons. They served at table. A toast was proposed to my parents. The speaker stressed, that as usual, the wine had been excellent: "It must be, because you don't drink that stuff everyday, that's why you can afford to keep such a good wine cellar. And what a tremendous day it's been. Well organised, plenty of game, and wonderful food. Three cheers."

When the sweets came around, Franz whispered into my ear: "Take plenty, there is enough even for seconds."

"Just make sure you come around the second time," I whispered back. It was good to know that someone was looking after us.

The party moved over to the living quarters. The men lit up a cigar and enjoyed a cognac, while the ladies had some coffee. By then we had had enough. We were full to bursting, and very tired. We said 'good-night' to everyone and retired to bed, without needing to be prompted.

It was wonderful to go to bed, thinking: tomorrow is Saturday, and we don't have to go to school, and then it will be Sunday, another day off. How great it was to be at home. As we dropped off to sleep, we had no idea, that we wouldn't be going back to school for another six weeks.

Saturday started with a severe frost. It had snowed already late in the evening, getting heavier after midnight, and a strong easterly was blowing. Our road to Strykowo was blocked. Snow drifts had covered the low-lying parts of the road completely. The temperature had dropped to below --20°C. On Sunday the weather turned even worse. More snow and cold temperatures. We heard on the news, that the roads were blocked and railways were not running.

On Monday my parents phoned our school in Posen: "This is Tieman, from Schönsee. Our children Günter and Dieter are stranded here. We can't get them to Posen, as no trains are running, because of the frost and snow. What? No school? All closed until further notice? Okay. I'll tell them."

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