The Oama farmers and their families E-Book

Gerhard Schmidberger

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 757

Beschreibung

The second volume of Gerhard Schmidberger's biographical generational novel begins during the National Socialist era and does not stop at the present day. Scarred by betrayal, war and death, parts of the family survive and carry on the tradition on several continents, sometimes without knowing about each other. The family's experiences are invaluable in countering the further dangers that could threaten the youngest generations in a future Europe ...

Leseprobe

I. STEM TREES

Family tree (Weixelgartner)

Rosa BuchnerGeorg Weixelgartner - 6 children:

3 Weixelgartner sons

killed in World War I

Georg Weixelgartner

(Pastor in Gerzen - Genealogy)

Josef Weixelgartner

Maria - 2 children:

Georg killed in World War II

Josef

Olga - 2 children: (Josef is a war buddy of Georg Junior)

Anton Bozena

Helga Gerhard- 2 children:

Stefan

Catherine

Anton Weixelgartner

Katharina - 1 child:

Mathias Martha - 2 child:

Georg Christa

Olga

Felix - 2 children: (Olga and Felix buy the Oama farm from Georg)

Johanna

Andreas

Family tree (Schmidberger)

Anton Schmidberger, great-great-grandfather(farm in Velden burnt down) - 1 child:

Andreas Senior Schmidberger,

great-grandfather

Maria (bought farm in Babing) - 4 children:

Berta (heiress)

Babette

Andreas Junior (identical twin)

Katharina - 3 children:

Klaus (died in a concentration camp)

Lukas

Maria - 2 children: Lukas and Maria (living in Norway and Canada)

Johanna Reinhard - 2 children:

Klaus (died in a traffic accident)

Felix

Olga (buy the Oama farm from Olga's brother Georg) - 2 children: Johanna and Andreas

Georg Senior (identical twin)

Barbara - 5 children: (Georg Senior has two illegitimate children with Magdalena)

Andi

Betty

Herrmann

Hans

Georg Junior engaged to Elisabeth Karl - 2 children:

Sieglinde

Gerhard Helga Weixelgartner - 2 children:

Stefan

Catherine

Georg Junior Irina - 1 child

Peter (Irkutsk)

Georg Junior was a comrade-in-arms of Josef Weixelgartner. Andreas Junior and Georg Senior were identical twins who were enemies. Georg Junior lived mainly in Irkutsk and East Berlin.

II. THE TWIN BROTHERS - GEORG AND ANDREAS SCHMIDBERGER

Story by Lukas Schmidberger,

Felix's uncle, brother of Johanna and Klaus, son of Andreas Junior, cousin of Georg Junior, husband of Maria

1. Andreas Schmidberger

2nd Schafkopf friends

3. the arrest

4. mother's death

5. the war

6 Sylvia

7. the radio operator

8. wolf pack

9. the enemy

10. the average

11. the rescue

12. the crossing

13. the lumberjack camp

14 Bernhard

15. camp life

16. the fights

17th card round again

18 The chief physician

19 Calgary

20 Canadian citizenship

21. promotion to chief physician

22 Luke

23 Sylvia

24 The trip to Norway

25. mountains

26. maria

27 Back in Canada

28th church wedding

29 The new home

30 The dispute

31 The consulate

32 The negotiation

33 Reconciliation with Johanna

34. main hearing

35. vacation in Canada

36 Bernhard's death

1. ANDREAS SCHMIDBERGER

In my childhood and early youth, I actually wanted to become a missionary in Africa and work there as such, even though this was always a thorn in my father's side. My mother, Katharina Schmidberger, didn't say anything about it as she thought it was just a child's crazy idea. I don't know exactly how I came to think of it myself. I was brought up Catholic and was a member of the St. George's Scouts for a long time. But I think it was less the religion that I wanted to spread there and more the dream of Africa that gave me such ideas.

When our father suddenly became seriously ill, I read medical books to understand why he was so unwell. A few days before his death, he was at home with us for the last time, completely cachectic as a result of his pancreatic cancer, which had spread throughout his abdomen. Our father was scrawny and sunken, while his abdomen was massively swollen due to the ascites that had developed in it.

The last time he lay on our terrace in the sun in front of our house on the lounger we had set up for him, I announced to him that I no longer wanted to be a missionary, but a surgeon. This was probably the last joy he received in his life.

He proudly told all his friends who had come to say goodbye to him about my new career goal.

For me, this was a promise that I felt obliged to keep.

I should probably mention at this point that I had two siblings: a sister named Johanna who was two years older and a brother named Klaus who was three years younger. My own name is Lukas.

Our father, Andreas Schmidberger, is said to have grown up in Passau, where he was raised alone by his foster mother, Elisabeth. He had obviously never known a father. When we asked what had happened to his real parents, our actual grandparents, we were only told that they had already died. That was all we could get out of our father. Apparently there was a secret that our father didn't want to talk about.

As he achieved very good grades at elementary school, he was allowed to transfer to grammar school, which was extremely unusual for children of poor parents at the time. In order to be able to attend a teacher training college, he moved to Landshut after leaving school, where he met our mother Katharina. At least that's what we were told. As Elisabeth seems to have died at an early age, we children never met our grandmother. Our mother Katharina inherited our small house on the outskirts of Landshut from her parents, whom we knew but who had both passed away.

2. THE SCHAFKOPF FRIENDS

Many years had passed since then. I had recently completed my medical studies. Johanna became a teacher. Klaus studied theology. He had taken over my original lifelong dream of missionary work in Africa and working as a priest. Our sister was always our boss. She set the tone. Klaus and I only had a chance of asserting ourselves against her if we joined forces. As a result, Klaus and I always stuck together and got on incredibly well and loved each other.

Klaus and I had a game of Schafkopf. Our two partners in the card game were Reinhard Hinterseher and Bernhard Habersetzer. We had known these two gentlemen since our early childhood. We grew up together, were in the St. George's Scouts, took part in camps and St. George's Runs. We were altar servers together in our parish of St. Martin in Landshut and took part in altar boy excursions with our parish priest that went as far as Lake Constance. For the Korbinian pilgrimage, we hiked from Munich to Freising several times at night, spent the night in camps in the cathedral gymnasium and took part in discussions with our bishop the next morning.

Such long friendships strengthen bonds with each other that usually last a lifetime.

Reinhard was of medium height and had a rather handsome face. He was more of an intellectual type, whereas Bernhard was quite tall and broad-shouldered and more of a hands-on, manual type.

The last time we met to play was in the summer of 1939. People everywhere were afraid of a possible war that was in the air.

I had finished my studies in the spring and was working as a surgical resident at Landshut municipal hospital. Reinhard had become a lawyer and Bernhard a nurse. Klaus was at the end of his theology studies. He was a pacifist and hated war.

Our father had had to fight in the First World War. His stories about it were terrible.

He often told us how they lay in the trenches before Verdun and fought hard for every meter of ground gained, how the shells hit next to them and tore his comrades apart, how he broke out in a cold sweat and, paralyzed with fear, could no longer move. He had lived through a hell that he would never forget for the rest of his life.

I often had to think about an incident he told us. The three of them were sitting in a trench. It was drizzling and cold and clammy. They were freezing. Out of curiosity, their superior officer tried to find out what was going on on the other side by briefly sticking his head out of the trench and looking over. Our father advised him to keep his head down so that he wouldn't get hit. As an officer, he didn't think he had to follow the advice of his men. The bullet hit him in the forehead below his helmet. He was killed instantly. In the muddy, damp mire, his subordinates used his corpse as a chair so that they could sit more comfortably.

Such stories sound terrible and yet they were a reality in such wars.

Another time, my father's life was saved by a bottle of wine that he had received as a birthday present from his comrades. When the order was given to retreat, he and his comrades jumped out of the trench to run back, until Dad remembered that he had forgotten his wine in the trench. He jumped back into the trench again, when at the same moment a grenade hit where he had just been standing and shredded his comrades. The wine saved his life.

In another story, father told us how a friend of his was inadvertently declared a war hero. They were in the trenches again, facing the French. The French were gaining the upper hand, which is why the Germans were ordered to retreat. The soldiers jumped out of their trenches and ran to the rear, away from the enemy. When the French noticed this, they also came out of their trenches to move up. Father's friend had overheard the order to retreat, so he stayed in the trench and continued firing with his machine gun. In this way, he hit several French soldiers who had come out of the trench to move up and no longer had any protection. When the French realized that they had walked into a trap, they retreated back into their trenches. As soon as the Germans realized this, they also came back and resumed their old positions. Father's friend had thus inadvertently become a war hero. I can't say how he coped psychologically with having shot so many Frenchmen.

As we sat together playing cards and started talking about a possible war, I said to the others that if it came to war, I would enlist in the navy to avoid man-to-man combat.

Our house was small. It consisted of a kitchen with a wood-burning stove, on which water was heated for washing and cooking, a moderately large living room with a couch and two chairs and a small table, as well as a radio, on which we received the Nazi propaganda news in later times, when the fear of another war grew ever greater.

A toilet with a toilet bowl and no washbasin adjoined a small hallway leading off the living room and the master bedroom. An external staircase led up to the second floor, where we children each had a room to ourselves. The rooms were connected by a corridor.

However, we had to go down to the first floor to go to the toilet and wash, with bowel movements going outside into a pit and washing taking place in the kitchen, as this was the only place where we could heat water with our wood-burning stove, which we had to fetch from the well in the garden. The whole house was heated by this wood-burning stove, which provided little warmth in winter, especially on the second floor, so that we often froze at this time of year in our childhood.

The garden, on the other hand, was quite large, so we were able to grow almost all our own fruit and vegetables, which my father actually hated terribly. I'll never forget how I heard my father swearing as a child when he was working on our vegetable patch.

But we also had lots of beautiful flowers in the garden. I was most impressed by a butterfly bush with its many blue flowers, on which countless butterflies were cavorting. I often had to think about how I used to stand in front of it for a long time to watch these beautiful creatures.

It was a balmy summer evening when the sun had already set, but there was still a certain sultriness in my room on the second floor of our house, where we were sitting on my bed - which we had folded down into a couch that nestled into the attic in such a way that you could just about sit on it - and two chairs around a kind of camping table. Klaus and I had settled down on the couch and the other two had to make do with the simple chairs.

With the exception of a few colorful, self-painted watercolor pictures on the white tiled wall that spoke of an ideal world that was about to collapse, my room was completely simple and unadorned. My favorite part was the brown wooden floor.

Little light came in from the small window with a white frame, which could have been opened to the south but which we had to keep closed because of the mosquitoes, which were a particular nuisance this summer, so the weak ceiling lamp was the only source of light, but it only dimly lit the room. On the other side, a simple wooden door led out into the corridor that connected our three small rooms.

Despite the beads of sweat on our faces, which we wiped off from time to time, we tried to concentrate on the card game. Klaus in particular, with his finely cut, almost girlishly beautiful face, looked tense, almost desperate. With his black trousers and white shirt, he was already trying to give himself a priestly appearance, whereas the other three of us were dressed quite casually with simple trousers and colorful shirts. Mine was predominantly mottled red, while Reinhard's was predominantly blue. Bernhard's shirt was plain gray.

The air in the small room was sizzling as Reinhard, the only smoker among us, lit up one of his hand-rolled cigarettes after the other, so that the butts piled up in the ashtray in front of him.

From the living room, where Johanna and our mother were sitting, soft music from the radio drifted up to us, almost making me dream, especially when the Lilly Marlen song I loved the most came on.

When Reinhard looked at me with his pretty blue eyes, he would sometimes twitch nervously at the right corner of his mouth, so that I thought I could see the cigarette wobbling back and forth in his mouth.

I can't say whether it was the alcohol, of which we had already had a little too much, or their losses at cards, or even the tense situation that could be felt everywhere in the summer of 1939, when so many people were afraid of another war, that Klaus and Bernhard got into such an argument. To an outside observer, the whole situation in our semi-dark room, where we had trouble even seeing our cards, would certainly have seemed spooky. Reinhard watched them with wide eyes without saying anything, obviously so fascinated by the argument between these two, whose heads were now turning red with anger, that he even forgot to light his cigarette, which was already in his mouth.

Klaus railed terribly against these terrible National Socialists, who were creating such an enormous danger of war. Bernhard, a great admirer of the Nazis, countered this and said that they had given Germany a new lease of life after losing World War I, which had brought them this terrible Versailles peace treaty. World War I, which had brought them this terrible Versailles peace treaty and reparations payments, after the world economic crisis and inflation.

I had played a lot of solos and was about to win. I had piles of other people's money, which they had to hand over to me because I had a great winning streak. Reinhard's winnings and losses were in balance, while Klaus and Bernhard had to pay. Perhaps it was the beer, which they had drunk a little too much of in their frustration, that caused their discussion about the war, the Nazis and the situation in Germany to escalate. While Reinhard and I held back, Bernhard and Klaus started shouting at each other at some point. Klaus scolded the Nazis; Bernhard defended them. This went so far that they almost hit each other's heads if I hadn't intervened and finally said: "Dear people, that's enough for today. We've finished our game. You're going home." This meant Reinhard and Bernhard, as the game was taking place at our house. "Klaus and I are going to bed." The two squabblers were so focused on each other that Reinhard and I had trouble separating them. In the end, they said their goodbyes and disappeared. I could hardly calm Klaus down afterwards, he was so involved in the argument with Bernhard.

As unpleasant as this evening ended, it had originally begun so cheerfully. Our mother and Johanna had uncorked a good bottle of red wine for our guests, which they had bought in the store the day before especially for this event, together with a corkscrew, as we didn't have one in our household yet, so that we could, as mother suggested, toast to a successful evening and a peaceful future.

The radio was playing soft, melodic songs that contributed to a relaxed, calming atmosphere, which led to pleasant conversations between the various people, and I particularly noticed Johanna and Reinhard talking animatedly. They seemed to get on very well, which confirmed my opinion that Johanna had been secretly in love with Reinhard for some time. I couldn't help but notice that she at least liked him very much.

At this point, even Klaus and Bernhard were still talking to each other in a very friendly manner.

There wasn't much time for such conversations, as we finally had to get down to business, i.e. the card game, for which we had to go one floor up.

3. THE ARREST

The next morning, Klaus was pretty hungover. He complained of a headache and nausea. Johanna brought him something to drink. Our mother felt sorry for him and asked what had happened yesterday that he was still so upset.

Mother and Johanna prepared breakfast. While we ate, I told them about yesterday's argument.

Mother urged caution. Ranting about the Nazis could be dangerous these days. The walls had ears, she said. I said that you could argue among friends, but that you wouldn't be denounced. No sooner had I said this than there was a knock at the door. Johanna curiously opened our front door and wondered who would be disturbing our breakfast at such an early hour. Two uniformed, rather unpleasant-looking gentlemen were standing outside asking for Klaus Schmidberger. When Klaus stood up in astonishment and said that this was him, the older of the two gentlemen explained that they had a warrant for Klaus Schmidberger's arrest for insulting our state. We were horrified. Mother began to cry. I hugged Klaus and held him close to me. Had Bernhard really denounced him? I could hardly believe it. I had previously thought he was a bit fanatical, but basically harmless and good-natured. I could never have imagined that he would be capable of handing his friend over to the Nazis. Johanna stood in front of Klaus and shouted at the Gestapo men: "Leave our brother alone. He's just had too much beer." The younger of the two, who made a particularly fanatical impression on me, pushed Johanna roughly to one side and handcuffed Klaus. They led him away like a felon. I followed Klaus until he disappeared into the van, where several soldiers were already waiting. They drove off straight away. Mother and Johanna were crying. I was desperate and tried to comfort them both by saying that he might be released soon, that they would realize that last night's fight was only due to the alcohol. You wouldn't do anything to a future priest, I added, although I was already beginning to suspect that we would never see Klaus again.

It should also be mentioned that the younger of the two Gestapo men who handcuffed Klaus had a face disfigured by massive acne like a pockmark, with cold, evil-looking eyes that gave him an almost scary expression, so that I was really horrified when I saw him. The other gentleman, on the other hand, who kept more in the background and let the younger one act, had a completely normal, serious and determined expression on his face, which gave me the impression that he was almost a little uncomfortable and embarrassed by the situation.

I never heard from my great friends Reinhard and Bernhard again. I never wanted to see them again. I especially hated Bernhard, the informer, from the bottom of my heart.

I spent my whole life looking for my brother. I found out much later that he had been taken to Dachau concentration camp. From there, he is said to have been transferred to another concentration camp, where his trail was lost. He probably either starved to death or was shot somewhere.

4. MOTHER'S DEATH

Quite desperate, I continued to work on my ward in the hospital. Johanna taught her students. Our mother couldn't get over Klaus' arrest. One day we found her lying dead in her bed. She had taken a huge number of sleeping pills, fallen asleep and never woke up again.

Our mother's funeral was very sad. The priests refused to give her a church funeral because suicide was a mortal sin. Only God had the right to decide over life and death. Very few of our mother's friends and companions came to accompany her on her last journey, as they all feared being associated with a traitor to the fatherland like Klaus.

As Johanna stood in front of the empty burial cave at our mother's funeral, into which the bearers lowered the coffin, she looked incredibly beautiful in her black mourning dress, with the elegant hat on her head, with her elegantly cut face, whose fawn eyes were incredibly attractive, and her brunette hair that hung down to her shoulders in gentle waves. I was really proud of my sister, who I liked more than any other woman I had ever known.

As no priest had felt competent to give a eulogy for our mother, I stood in front of the grave when the coffin was already inside and began to pray aloud, with Johanna and the few mourners who had gathered to pay their last respects to our mother joining in the prayer.

Johanna then gave a short speech about the life and suffering of our mother and above all expressed the wish that our brother Klaus would return to us safe and sound.

It was now just Johanna and me in our house in Landshut. We had breakfast together and then went our separate ways. We usually met up again in the evening and prepared dinner together. Johanna did most of the errands and shopping as she had more time than me. We talked a lot about what might have happened to Klaus. People whispered behind closed doors that he might have been sent to Dachau concentration camp, although nobody really knew what that meant. It had to be something bad, that much was clear.

At times we feared that he might have gone to Auschwitz, although I only realized later that almost only Jews were taken there.

We only found out after the war when I asked about him in Dachau that he had not died in Dachau but had been sent to another concentration camp, where he was probably shot. But no one could tell me where they had finally deported him to.

5. THE WAR

Another few months had passed when the war broke out. The attack on Poland was already in full swing when I received my call-up order. I presented myself at the relevant office and explained that I wanted to join the navy because I was urgently needed there as a doctor. Apparently the navy really needed doctors, as they immediately agreed to my proposal.

I said goodbye to Johanna, who had to continue her work as a teacher. She took me to the train station in Landshut. She said goodbye and told me to come back. After all, she didn't want to lose her second brother. We hugged each other.

At the time, we had no idea that many more years would pass before we met again than we had imagined.

The train journey to Kiel took twelve hours. I was accommodated in a barracks there. My basic training began the very next day, which was quite mild for me as the instructors were aware that I would be promoted to staff doctor, i.e. lieutenant and soon first lieutenant, as a result of my A-levels and medical degree and would therefore be their superior.

My first war deployment was on a smaller destroyer. We cruised in the North Atlantic and tried to intercept the supply ships between America and Russia. However, we once encountered a larger English destroyer, which torpedoed us. Our ship was damaged. We fled and tried to reach the coast of Norway near Hammerfest, where the English ship did not dare to pursue us. Our ship ended up in a dry dock and I ended up in a barracks, where I spent most of my time sleeping.

During the day, I worked in a military hospital. As the chief surgeon's right-hand man, I was involved in many operations and was even allowed to perform some myself under his direction.

Lukas Schmidberger, husband of Maria, uncle of Felix, brother of Johanna, cousin of Georg Junior

6. SYLVIA

Near the hospital, I had discovered a really nice restaurant where you could even go as a German without being mobbed by the Norwegians, as was often the case in many other restaurants. When I entered, there were still quite a few tables free. There was a very pleasant-looking young lady sitting right near the entrance and I asked her if I could sit at her table. She looked up a little surprised, looked at me and said in broken German "Please sit down", which I did. When the waiter came, I ordered a glass of mineral water and a snack: "You haven't eaten anything. Can I buy you something?" I asked her. She looked up again and looked at me with her big blue eyes. "Thank you very much. I'm really hungry," she replied and ordered a roast beef with potatoes, salad and gravy. "How did you learn German so well?" I asked her again. "My mother was German. My father met her in Germany, fell in love with her and brought her to Norway with him. She taught me and my brother her mother tongue," she replied. I then asked her what had happened to her mother when she spoke of her in the past. I was told that she had unfortunately already passed away.

As I looked at my conversation partner, I realized that she was a beautiful woman. She wore her blonde, slightly wavy hair shoulder-length. She was dressed simply, but very smartly. The only women in my life so far had been my mother and my sister. I was attracted to this lady from the outset in a way that I had never felt with any other woman before. She seemed incredibly likeable, friendly and natural. I got the impression that she was happy to be able to speak German with me. Her name was Sylvia, she told me. She worked as a nurse at the municipal hospital, she continued. I introduced myself as Lukas and explained that I worked in the military hospital as a surgical assistant. We had a good chat for a whole evening until she suddenly stood up, looked at her wristwatch and said: "It's getting late. I have to go home." "Can I say goodbye and see you again?" I asked her. She looked at me, nodded, smiled so that I could see her beautiful, even, white teeth and said, "I'll come back here. You just have to be there." As she said this, she put on her grey coat, put on her home-knitted, colorful hat and disappeared through the front door.

I called the waiter to settle the bill and also made my way to my barracks. As an officer, I didn't have to sleep in the simple crew quarters, but had my own room.

I couldn't fall asleep for a long time because I couldn't stop thinking about this likeable, lovely woman to whom I felt more attracted than to any other woman in my life.

If there really is such a thing as love at first sight, then it must have happened to me that evening. I couldn't stop thinking about her, which is why I couldn't sleep for half the night.

I spent most of the next day in the operating theater. I had to treat wounded soldiers with gunshot wounds and broken legs. The emergency room was very hectic at times, as there was a lack of medication and infusions, which we urgently needed. When I came out of the military hospital later that afternoon, I was pretty exhausted.

In the evening, I went back to this nice little restaurant to eat. I had meat dishes with lots of salad and vegetables. I had a glass of beer with it. The food was good. Unfortunately Sylvia hadn't come. I came to this restaurant every day for dinner, but unfortunately without seeing Sylvia.

A week was to pass. I had just started my meal when she came in.

She saw me, smiled, took off her coat, asked "May I?" and sat down opposite me after I nodded. "Lukas! It's good to see you," she began, smiling at me with her beautiful red lips. Her beautiful blue eyes beamed at me so intensely that I felt really insecure. In any case, she seemed almost more beautiful than I remembered. She ordered a glass of white wine and a salad with pieces of turkey in it. When she had finished eating, she asked me if I would like to go for a little walk.

I agreed, of course. We paid our bills, put on our coats, put on our hats and went out into the cold. It was winter. It was almost always dark and bitterly cold in Hammerfest at this time of year. Despite my thick gloves, my hands were freezing. Sylvia seemed to be feeling the same. After a short walk, she stopped in front of a front door and said: "This is where I live. Would you like to come in?" I was of course glad to get out of the cold. We entered the hallway and climbed up two flights of stairs until she stopped in front of her apartment door. When we entered, it was wonderfully warm. Sylvia had stoked up her tiled stove, which radiated a cozy warmth that thawed out my frozen hands and limbs. We hung our coats up on a coat rack.

The apartment was small. It measured no more than 30 square meters. There was a kitchen, a living room/bedroom and a bathroom with a shower and toilet. Sylvia led me into the living room and motioned for me to sit on the couch. "Do you want some tea?" she asked me and went into the kitchen to brew some after I nodded. We drank tea and talked. I told her about my brother Klaus, who had been arrested by the Gestapo and I hadn't heard from him since, and about my mother, who then took her own life. The only relative I have left is my sister.

At some point, Sylvia looked deep into my eyes and kissed me. I kissed her back. Slowly she began to undress. I saw her firm breasts, her slim figure, her waist, her long, muscular legs and felt dazed when she began to undress me too.

When we were naked and facing each other, we snuggled up close to each other and kissed again. Sylvia put a condom over my penis and we had intercourse together.

For me, it was the first time in my life that I had slept with a woman. But I think that was also true for Sylvia. Afterwards, we hugged each other tightly. I felt incredibly happy and satisfied. Sylvia, I had the impression, seemed to feel the same way. Suddenly she told me about her family, who lived in Bergen, where she also came from. Her mother had already died, she continued. She had fallen out with her father and brother, which is why she had come to Hammerfest. She simply wanted to get away from them and had therefore moved so far north. She didn't tell me what the argument was about, which was obviously so serious that she left her family.

If she didn't tell me of her own accord, I didn't want to penetrate her any further. We changed the subject and talked about more trivial things.

When I looked at my wristwatch, it was already past midnight, so I had to return to my barracks urgently.

Since then, we have met almost every day. Sylvia usually invited me over to her apartment, where we cooked together and often made love. Sometimes we would go shopping together before cooking to choose what we wanted for dinner. Sometimes we would meet up at the nice little restaurant where we had met to eat, and we almost always had a lively conversation. I enjoyed being with Sylvia and felt really happy when she was near me, and I had the feeling that she felt the same way. You probably only experience such a kindred spirit with another person once in a lifetime, although I had felt something similar in my childhood when I was with my brother Klaus. Perhaps you have to have been through some difficult strokes of fate beforehand, such as the loss of Klaus and the suicide of my mother in my case or the death of her mother and the quarrel with her father and brother in Sylvia's case, in order to be able to develop such an intense affection for another person.

When we had time, we went for long walks despite the cold and darkness.

Once she said to me: "Let's go towards the sun." I was a little surprised, but followed her up a hill where several people had already gathered to wait for the sun. Suddenly it became light. The landscape, which had just been completely in darkness, suddenly shone in bright sunlight. The people cheered. The polar night was over. The long polar day had begun. The sun would hardly set for six months until it would be night for another six months. Sylvia and I hugged and kissed each other. We felt infinitely happy.

Mountains appeared in the distance that I had never seen before. The surroundings appeared in an unreal clear light that you can only experience in the far north or elsewhere in the high mountains. The landscape around us seemed enchanted.

Unfortunately, this happiness only lasted a few more days before I was informed that I was being sent on a submarine mission in the North Atlantic. It was incredibly difficult for both of us to say goodbye. I felt like I did when the Gestapo took Klaus away. I never saw my brother again, although I spent my whole life trying to find out about his fate. I promised Sylvia I would come back and marry her.

7. THE RADIO

In the barracks in Hammerfest, I once met a radio operator who introduced himself to me as Johannes. I became somewhat friendly with this gentleman. We did sports together, went running or did gymnastics and fitness training. Afterwards, we often sat down together, had a beer and talked.

He told me that he gave the submarine captains the positions of American supply ships for the Russians, which he received from airplanes or other ships.

For encryption, Johannes used the top-secret encryption machine called Enigma, by means of which most messages were so distorted that it took the English a long time to crack this difficult code.

Unfortunately, our nascent friendship proved to be very short-lived, as I was soon assigned to the submarine, where some unpleasant surprises awaited me.

As was often the case during this terrible war, I only found out about Johannes' tragicfate many decades later.

You get to know each other, get on well, make friends, but are then transferred somewhere else and never see each other again. Later on, I often thought about Johannes and wondered whether he had survived this terrible war unscathed or died somewhere on the battlefield.

If I had spent most of the rest of my life in Germany, I would certainly have gone to Nuremberg, his home town, once and asked about him. But since my life took a completely different course, I didn't have the opportunity to do so.

He probably believed that I no longer existed because I drowned in the North Atlantic.

Decades later, when I found out by chance about the cruel fate that had befallen him from my strange cousin Georg, of whose existence I had no idea for a long time, as he had spent a large part of his life in Russia because he had married a Russian woman, with whom Johannes had been in the prison camp in Ulyanovsk on the Volga, it made me very sad.

8TH WOLFSRUDEL

I was a little surprised when I was told that I had been assigned to a submarine mission on a V-II-C type, a so-called wolf pack, because I knew that normally there were no doctors on such ships to look after the crew of about 40 to 50 men, only nurses or paramedics.

Normally, the command team of such a ship consisted of a lieutenant captain, a first lieutenant, two lieutenants of the watch and a few mates with the rank of sergeants.

It seemed a little strange to me that I, as a doctor and major, should be assigned to such a ship. Nevertheless, I didn't think about it any further, as my thoughts were more preoccupied with saying goodbye to Sylvia, which was of course very difficult for me, than with my assignment on this ship.

On our last night together, I didn't go back to my barracks but spent the night at Sylvia's place. We hugged each other tightly, had intercourse together several times and spent the whole night lying close to each other. When we said goodbye, I made her a solemn promise to come back and marry her. In return, she promised to wait for me: "And if it takes many years, I'll be there when you come back," she said to me as we said goodbye, as if she had already guessed all the difficulties we would face.

It was only when I was greeted by the leading officer at check-in that it slowly dawned on me what a trap I had fallen into.

Obviously this gentleman had so much influence in the party that he had been able to request me against all the rules.

Normally, a submarine of this type had a control center, a mess room, a galley and a radio hatch through which the surroundings could be scanned to the horizon with the periscope, in addition to the crew quarters, whereby the provisions for the sailors were usually stowed under their beds.

The surrounding area was also scanned using sonar, i.e. ultrasound, as radar was only used after the war.

Only the senior officer was actually entitled to a small cabin of his own. However, as I held the rank of major, I was also entitled to such accommodation. Even if the senior officer didn't want to admit it, I insisted on this privilege.

Our ship was armed with twelve torpedoes, as I was proudly informed as soon as I arrived.

What I hadn't known until then, but which I had to learn the hard way, was that there were no lifeboats on such ships. Only the lieutenant captain was allowed to stow a life raft in his cabin. Only life jackets were provided for the rest of the crew.

Firearms were also not allowed on ships of this type, as there was certainly a risk that some sailors might go crazy and start shooting at their comrades during the week-long voyage at sea, crammed into a very confined space.

Only the captain's lieutenant, as the chief officer, who was the commander and, if necessary, also the judge while they were at sea, was allowed to carry a pistol.

Unfortunately, I have to admit that I knew very little about all this when I arrived on the ship, which turned out to be quite disastrous. What I couldn't have guessed at the time was that I would soon find out more about my brother's fate.

9. THE ENEMY

I had to vacate my room in the barracks and pack up my things. I had to check into the boat at 1 pm. Sylvia accompanied me for a while. We hugged and kissed each other goodbye.

The first person to greet me was the captain, and I got the shock of my life when I stood in front of Reinhard Hinterseher, my former friend and Schafkopf partner, who was wearing the captain's stripes.

"Holla, who have we here?" were his cynical words of greeting as he gave me a rather disparaging look, scrutinizing me from top to bottom. "Would you like to know what happened to your brother after I sicced the Gestapo on that schemer that very night?" he continued to harass and torment me. "He had to work hard in Dachau until he was taken further east, where he was to be executed," were his further words of greeting. As I had risen to the rank of major myself in the meantime, I didn't need to be afraid of this man who showed me so much hatred as soon as he greeted me.

Standing next to him was Bernhard Habersetzer, my other friend and card partner. They had both followed my suggestion and joined the navy.

As I only found out later from Bernhard, Reinhard had asked me to join his team specifically to harass me. Perhaps it was his guilty conscience that drove him. The only thing that surprised me was that it didn't seem to be Bernhard who was the denouncer who had hanged Klaus, but Reinhard, whom I would never have believed capable of this. Apparently he was able to guess my thoughts. "You thought Bernhard had hanged the traitor to the fatherland? He's far too weak for that. It would take a man like me," he said, casting a contemptuous sideways glance at Bernhard.

I greeted my superior officer with "Heil Hitler" in accordance with the regulations and demanded to be allowed to move into my cabin to put my things down there without responding to his insults.

Perhaps ten minutes had passed since I had been in my cabin when there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, I saw Bernhard standing in front of it. "May I come in?" he asked me. "Please," I replied and let him come in. Bernhard looked quite dejected "First of all, I would like to apologize for the reception Reinhard gave you," he said and then continued: "I know you thought I had hung your brother. I would never do such a thing, believe me. I'm disappointed in Reinhard, in the war, in the Nazis and in the terrible conditions that prevail at the moment. But above all, I regretted the argument with Klaus at the time, because I gave Reinhard the opportunity to hang him. It gave him the opportunity to climb the ladder more quickly. Otherwise he certainly wouldn't have made it to captain. People like Reinhard, who prove their loyalty to the regime in this infamous way, are rewarded by the party with promotions. At the time we had our last card evening, Reinhard was already a member of the NSDAP and was about to move up in the party. My argument with Klaus therefore came at just the right time for him to prove his loyalty to the party, which earned him a captain's license in the navy. Denouncing a renegade friend out of love for his country was the best proof of his loyalty that he could possibly provide. Reinhard also drove me to join the navy with him, as you suggested. I shouldn't be telling you all this, otherwise I would have to fear being sent to a concentration camp myself. I was blinded at the time, but I have long since regretted it. I just wanted to tell you this so that you don't judge me." I shook his hand and motioned for him to sit down. He looked quite depressed. I offered him a glass of water. Unfortunately, that was all I had in my cabin. He had to leave as quickly as possible, otherwise Reinhard might get suspicious. He would behave like a terrible despot on the ship. He had asked me to join his crew so that he could harass me, Bernhard added as he left. He was supposed to show me my treatment rooms. I was to accompany him. As the ship's doctor, I was responsible for the medical treatment of the wounded and sick. My workroom was small, but contained the most important utensils such as bandages and some surgical instruments as well as infusions and syringes that I needed to treat my patients. Bernhard was assigned to me as a nurse.

Dinner took place in the ship's galley. I sat at a table with the officers, Reinhard as captain, the helmsman and two other lieutenants. Bernhard sat with the sergeants, the so-called Maten. The captain was in a good mood. He raised a toast to us and gave me a disparaging look. I didn't let on, but toasted back and praised the canteen food.

"At six o'clock we have a morning nap, then breakfast. We leave at seven o'clock," were Reinhard's parting words. Then he got up and left.

The rest of us also got up, said our goodbyes and went to our sleeping areas.

Bernhard was no longer to be seen. He had obviously already retired and laid down earlier.

After the morning nap, we had breakfast. Then everyone had to go to their post to set sail for the North Atlantic. We stayed on the surface for a long time until the order was given to dive. An American supply ship had appeared on the sonar, which we quickly approached in order to torpedo it. Hard hit, it disappeared from the sonar. I had little to do with the military events, as my job was to look after the sick.

Reinhard only looked at me disdainfully during meals and otherwise ignored me, which was fine by me. Bernhard, on the other hand, was a great support in my work.

We had now been at sea for several weeks. Our supplies were slowly running out, so we had to return to our base in Hammerfest.

10. THE ACCIDENT

I was already looking forward to seeing Sylvia again when we were suddenly attacked by an English fighter plane. This plane had suddenly appeared out of the cloudy sky above us and had started firing at us vertically from above. We fired at it from below with our onboard cannon and it suddenly seemed to be hit hard. The plane exploded above us and crashed directly onto our ship, which threatened to break apart. The impact was terrible. Some of our people were killed by the falling debris: "Prepare the lifeboat. Everyone put on life jackets. The submarine is sinking," Reinhard shouted his orders. As there was only one inflatable boat, which Reinhard claimed for himself, Bernhard and two of his officers, there was enormous confusion as everyone wanted to get on this inflatable boat. In their panic, people were running all over the place without being able to get anything sensible together.

My two friends had inflated their rubber dinghy and lowered it into the water. Two others followed them. I put on my life jacket and tried to follow them into the boat, but Reinhard pushed me back into the water with his foot: "You stupid dog, stay out," he shouted at me as I landed in the icy waters of the North Atlantic. Before the waves crashed over me and the terrible cold penetrated me, I saw Reinhard firing his pistol at a sailor who was also trying to get onto the lifeboat.

What I only found out much later was that this man snatched the pistol from Reinhard with his last ounce of strength while he was still dying and fired at him before he sank into the Atlantic with the gun in his hand.

Reinhard had obviously been hit on the thigh and was bleeding heavily, and Bernhard tried to bandage him, with little success.

However, I hadn't noticed any of this. Fortunately, I had put on my life jacket in time. In desperation, I tried to swim, which was almost impossible in the cold and strong waves. By chance, a piece of wooden furniture floated past me and I tried to cling to it. I pulled myself up to get out of the cold water, which I only barely managed to do.

I don't remember how long I floated on the water like that, as I was soon to lose consciousness due to the cold. Unfortunately, it had also started to rain, which made my condition even more uncomfortable. The others were already far away. I had already finished with my life and prayed to God for forgiveness of my sins. My last thoughts before I passed out were of Sylvia. After Klaus, this was the second time I had lost a loved one forever, I thought as my senses began to fade. I won't see Johanna again either, it flashed through my mind before the thread broke.

11. THE RESCUE

I only know what happened next from stories, as I had fallen into a deep faint.

I was terribly cold. I had a fever and chills. I was hardly aware of my surroundings as I was in a fairly delirious state. In my fantasies, I saw waves crashing over me, crushing and suffocating me. I thought I was going to die. In my desperation, I lashed out to fend off attackers. I was terrified and had terrible nightmares that tormented me.

From time to time, a horrible grimace would appear before my inner eye that somehow resembled Reinhard, whom I hated. I don't remember how long this condition lasted. I had an infusion in my arm, through which I was injected with painkillers and sedatives, without which I would probably have gone completely mad. I gradually became clearer in my head and slowly understood that I was lying in a bed in a room with ten other hospital beds. I was in a hospital in London, in English captivity. I was told that an English ship that happened to be passing by had pulled me half dead out of the sea and brought me to London.

I was nursed back to health. The nurses and orderlies around me seemed distant, but did not behave unfriendly or even hostile towards a German prisoner of war. After my doctor, a friendly, elderly gentleman, had confirmed my recovery, I was discharged from hospital. At first I still felt weak. I needed a few days to get back on my feet. I was given this time. When I was finally feeling quite well again, I was put on a ship again, but it wasn't destined for the war effort, it was going to Canada, which was still an English colony at the time.

I and a few other German prisoners of war were taken to the Thames on the back of a truck. There we were loaded onto a smaller boat that sailed down the Thames to the landing stage for the big ships, where we were then loaded onto a large passenger ship. One of the highlights of my life so far was definitely this trip on the Thames, where we passed most of London's famous sights. I saw Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, Tower Bridge, the Tower and much more, which left me in awe. London is a great city, I thought at the time.

12. THE CROSSING

On the passenger ship, we were divided into work groups. As a waiter, I had to serve a lot of posh English people, which I actually quite enjoyed. We had to lend a hand with loading and unloading cargo and luggage for the crew and passengers. All in all, we didn't actually have a bad time during the crossing, which lasted almost two weeks, even though the room in which the five of us were initially crammed together was uncomfortably cramped, especially as one of these five comrades turned out to be an extremely unlikeable guy whose pockmarked, ugly face with cold, gray eyes brought back terrible memories for me. This man was the younger of the two men from the Gestapo who picked up my brother at the time. A terrible hatred rose up in me. Sometimes you can hardly believe the coincidences that happen. I asked him where he had left his colleague from the Gestapo. He looked at me, puzzled, and his face turned white as a sheet. "What kind of mangy dog are you?" he snapped at me. "I mean your colleague with whom you took my brother away in Landshut," I replied, also rather gruffly. "Leave me alone, you asshole," he said, adding that his comrade had died a hero's death in Russia. I was aware that I had created an enemy that I would have to watch out for in the future. On the other hand, I could cause him a lot of trouble if I denounced him as a member of the Gestapo. He was certainly aware of this.

As a German prisoner of war, I had to work hard during the crossing if I didn't want to risk major punishment. After I explained to them that I was a doctor, they treated me more kindly. Above all, I was given another room, which I only had to share with one other prisoner. I was especially happy to finally get away from the Gestapo man. Injured and sick sailors and prisoners of war were brought to me for treatment, and my room-mate, a nurse, gave me a helping hand.

We docked in Halifax harbor for the first time. New provisions were loaded. The guards were changed. We prisoners of war had to help unload the cargo, but then had to go straight back to the ship. There were a lot of sacks to carry, some of them very heavy. We were all pretty exhausted in the evening. In Halifax, we were given a proper meal for the first time again. During the crossing, we only had boiled potatoes, white bread and sour apples to eat. After the cargo had been unloaded and new cargo taken on board, our ship set sail again. We sailed along the St. Lawrence River to Montreal, where we went ashore again to exchange the cargo, then on to Toronto, where the same procedure was repeated.

At times we were transported across the country by bus. Then we continued on ships to the western end of Lake Superior. From there we were taken further west on trucks. We had to work hard on the ships. It was more comfortable for us on the trucks. I enjoyed watching the varied Canadian landscape.

After another week, we had reached our destination, a logging camp in the middle of the mountain forests of what would later become Banff National Park in Alberta.

13. THE LUMBERJACK CAMP

We were in a huge camp surrounded by a palisade fence and in the middle of a large wooded area. All around us we could admire mountains that were largely covered by mighty glaciers and whose rugged, rocky peaks seemed to rise vertically into the sky. Clouds frequently caught these giants, so unfortunately we often had to work in the rain. Our valley was crossed by a narrow river which, after many twists and turns, poured into a lake whose banks were partly covered in reeds.

At one point, this lake even had a small sandy beach, which we went to for a swim whenever possible in the summer when the weather was nice.

There were many wooden barracks, with four prisoners sharing one hut. I was taken to a hut, given blankets and work clothes and assigned a camp. We were divided into work groups for the next day. After the strenuous journey, we were all pretty exhausted. There was a large common room where everyone gathered to eat. The guards sat a little apart from the prisoners, but as far as I could tell, they got the same food as us. We were given plates and cutlery, which of course we had to wash ourselves. We lined up to eat and waited our turn. We usually had goulash or soups, sometimes with indefinable contents. Potatoes and white bread were practically always included. There was enough food so that we didn't go hungry.

If you did your job properly, the guards were generally friendly. Nobody was harassed. We had to cut down the trees with handsaws, which was often extremely strenuous. Tractors were used to transport the trees away. I met my comrade from the Gestapo several times. He hissed at me every time he saw me. I got the feeling that he would attack me as soon as he got the chance. As long as the guards kept an eye on me, I was reasonably safe. I am certainly muscular and strong, but I don't think I would have stood a real chance against this brutal-looking guy in a man-to-man fight.

As soon as they found out that I was a doctor, I was taken off tree felling and assigned to hospital duty. Doctors were urgently needed as there were serious injuries during this hard and dangerous work. The surgical experience I had been able to gain so far came in very handy in this camp.

14 BERNHARD

There was also an infirmary run by nurses. I was very surprised when I recognized Bernhard among the nurses. When he noticed me, he was startled. Apparently he had a guilty conscience because he hadn't stood by me against Reinhard on the lifeboat.

"Hello, Lukas," he greeted me. "It's nice to see you again," he continued. "We all thought you were dead after Reinhard pushed you off the boat. Unfortunately, I couldn't prevent it, which I was terribly sorry about," he apologized. "I clung to a wooden cupboard until I was caught unconscious," I replied. It certainly wasn't Bernhard's fault that Reinhard pushed me into the water. He couldn't have prevented it: "Where is Reinhard?" I asked him. "I have no idea," Bernhard answered. "He obviously stayed in London and wasn't taken to Canada like us," Bernhard said. "In any case, his trail has been lost in England. Maybe he died because he got a pretty serious gunshot wound in the rubber dinghy, which is why he had to be treated in hospital in London. Reinhard fired his pistol at a sailor who also wanted to jump onto the lifeboat. The sailor snatched the pistol from Reinhard before he sank to his death in the waters of the Atlantic and shot at Reinhard, whose thigh was seriously injured by the shot," Bernhard told me.

By the time they were picked up by an English ship that happened to be passing by, Reinhard had already lost quite a lot of blood. Obviously they were taken by the same ship that rescued me.

Over time, we became really friendly again. My enemy was Reinhard, not Bernhard. He was harmless, that much I realized long ago.

As it was summer, we often went swimming at the nearby lake. It was surprisingly warm. We usually stripped naked and jumped into the crystal-clear water. We splashed around and were as happy as little children when we could swim in the lake.

Unfortunately, I discovered that Bernhard couldn't swim at all. He was just splashing around on the shore. Naked as he was, I noticed his tall, muscular figure for the first time, which I had hardly noticed before. Despite his somewhat chubby face, which was covered in stubble, and his rather sparse, light blonde hair, he was actually quite handsome. I tried to teach him to swim, which turned out not to be so easy as he was far too afraid of the water.

The landscape around us was beautiful. There were lots of trees and hills, but also green meadows through which our meandering river flowed as it flowed into the lake.

We were prisoners, but still enjoyed life in this beautiful wilderness, which in spring, when the trees and meadow flowers bloomed, turned into a colorful sea of blossoms in all bright colors, while in autumn, when the leaves changed color, darker browns and reds predominated.

As Bernhard and I were assigned to the ambulance service, we didn't have to do as much hard work as the loggers and those who had to process the logs and transport them across the river. The river flowed into a larger one, over which many logs were transported to Calgary.

15. STOCKLIVING

The sanitary facilities in the camp left a lot to be desired. There were no toilets. We had dug a large pit and laid boards over it with an opening through which we disposed of our excrement.

We fetched drinking water from the river, which we also used to wash and clean our clothes. The water in the river was clean mountain water. Nevertheless, we usually boiled it before drinking it.

Weeks and months went by. The only changes were church festivals such as Easter and Christmas, when we went to church. The prisoners had built these themselves from logs, as well as our huts. We painted them with red, yellow and green paint that we had once been given. The church was painted blue.