Fifteen years in a childhood paradise

anyone about our conversation. I was thinking about the day after tomorrow, and I was sad.

When tomorrow came, I was cheerful again. I had heard from Mutter, that all the officers would be leaving the next day.

"So they told you too?" I said knowingly. "You knew, and didn't say anything?" she replied. "You can keep secrets well!"

I left. I had my appointment with the doctor. We spent a lovely day on the lake, and we talked non-stop. He told me about his training as a doctor, that he wanted to save lives, not destroy them, and how he hated the war. I told him about school. I tried hard to cheer him up, telling him about the pranks we played at school, but then I became sad again, for tomorrow he would be gone.

"Thank you for a wonderful day, and thank you for being my friend." I could hardly say good-bye. There was something choking me. I wanted to give him a hug, but I couldn't.

They all left before dawn, on Friday, 20 June 1941. On Sunday morning we heard through the news, that Germany had declared war on Russia and it's troops were advancing into Russian territory. It had been a complete surprise attack and as a result, there was hardly any resistance.

"Strange," I thought, "to have come so close to history at my age, knowing a few days before the Russians knew that they would be attacked."

A few weeks later we received a letter from another one of our billets, telling us that the doctor had died during an air raid by the Russians on the advancing troops.

I found it difficult to cope with that news. Our idyllic and peaceful home seemed to be blown apart by this terrible war. I remembered, that the doctor didn't like the war, and now he was dead. What else would the war bring? More death and destruction? From that moment on I had lost all interest in the war, no matter how victorious the German army seemed to be at that time.

The death of my doctor friend shocked me more than I thought. I had to seek comfort and consolation from the past. It had been such a wonderful and unforgettable childhood. Thinking of the past gave me strength in my present crisis.

*

It was summer 1934. Vater was worried that we couldn't swim, as our park was so close to the lake, and he wanted us to be able to roam around freely by ourselves.

"Come, children, I'll teach you how to swim," he said one afternoon.

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