Illa - Part 5
3 Year Old German Girl Remembers Fleeing City During WWII
This is a true story, hand-written by Ilse and posted by her daughter on Steemit.
There was such a crowd at the train station. It was almost impossible to get on any train that would be moving soon. We managed to get on one that went north. Ahrensburg was the last stop. It wasn't very far, but it was out of the city. In all the shoving, I lost my Neucht Noch and began to cry.
The people who lived in the small town of Ahrensburger did not know about the warning pamphlets and were overwhelmed by fleeing people coming off the trains. Some found room in the local church, and in its’ basement. As the trains kept arriving hourly, many people gathered in the surrounding fields. Oma (Grandmother), Mutti and I had a seat in a church. A church bench starts feeling harder the longer you sit on one. Mom urged me to sleep a little. I leaned against her but it was too uncomfortable to sleep. We thought it might be better outside, so we left.
Ahrensburg is elevated a little higher than Hamburg and we could see our city’s devastation. The sky had a blood red color from all the fire and smoke. In-between we saw explosions most likely coming from the harbor. So many people watched their belongings and their heritage burn. Some were crying or sobbing hard, others were praying. I heard a voice in the crowd ask ‘Do you think our ‘St. Michel’ is still standing’ and another voice; ‘What about our beautiful City-Hall’. It was the saddest concentration of people I have ever experienced in my life. Then somebody started to sing the Hamburg Hymn; that of a beautiful, proud city. Others joined in. It was so sad!
Then I heard a little voice cry, “Today is my birthday and nobody is singing for that”. Some children sang ‘Happy Birthday’ for her, interrupted by booms of explosions. It was not a happy birthday, not for anyone. Since then, I am not able to look at a red sunset sky without feeling sad or tense. It does not look beautiful to me. War can do that to you. Some of it creeps into your soul and stays there forever.
The next day we started our journey south to Schopflohe. Normally the trip from Hamburg to München would take 6 to 9 hours. It took us a whole week. This trip was an ordeal. Trains were not scheduled; overcrowded, and would just stop anywhere. In that case, one had to walk to the next connection. One night we traveled in a boxcar that was almost empty except for two old men. The two men were talking crazy things to stop the misery. The floor was covered with broken glass. I do not know where that glass came from, but I was very scared. It was also cold and dark in there. We were glad to leave that train as soon as we could.
In some train stations, we crawled under the cars to get to the other side to catch another train. I was always afraid that the trains would start moving with us underneath. Even more frightening to me were the locomotives. Those hissing and steaming old locomotives with their big wheels always looked like huge monsters to me. It was a hot summer that year. The dust and dirt in the air made it hard to breath. Water mains were mostly out of order. If there was any running water, it could not be used for drinking. I was constantly thirsty. We stopped at a bigger station one day, which had a Red Cross station for people who needed food and water. They even had milk for children. Mom went downstairs to the main lobby to see what she could get for us. Oma said she absolutely had to go and find a toilet. “If you stay here by yourself for a little while, we won’t lose our spot in line”. Mom said. “Sit here on that stone and don’t move! Promise me that you won’t move.” I promised.
The crowds of people were pushing and shoving and shouting. It really did not feel safe. Where was Mutti? Where was Oma? It took so long for them to come back and to top it all, a train rolled in and the locomotive stopped right in front of me. With the big wheels squeaking and the steam coming at me, I screamed and I screamed. Mutti heard my screams over all the noise and commotion that went on around us. She saw the train and where I was sitting and she knew I was in agony. She tried to reach me as fast as she could; spilling some of the milk, she had in a cup. “Illa! I’m coming” She yelled. I was so upset that I could hardly drink. She held me very tight in her arms and I calmed down a bit.
“Where is Oma” she kept on asking. “I couldn’t find Oma downstairs anywhere, that’s what took so long.” The train was ready to go and we left without Oma. How dismal the two of us were. We will meet her in Schopflohe, Mutti reassured. “Oma knows where we are going.” Yet, so many things could happen that it was better not to think about it.
The next thing that happened I remember as if it happened yesterday. We are on a small train going slowly up a mountain. Clunk, clunk, clunk, and then it stopped. Mom looked out the window. Lucky us, we had a seat by the window. I sat on Mom’s lap and she told me, “We are way up on a bridge called a viaduct”. Then a man in railroad uniform comes into the carriage and makes an announcement. I have no idea what he is talking about. “Mutti?”
“Shhh” It becomes very quiet and reminds me of the basement shelter. “Mutti, are we going to be bombed?”
“No, Shhhh”.
She is holding me so tight it hurts. “Mutti, you are hurting me!” She loosens her grip a little. Strokes over my hair, puts a little kiss on the top of my head and whispers, “I love you”. I thought – now we will surely die. The train starts to move very slowly. Inch by inch, clunk, clunk, clunk. The lady beside me whispers a prayer. Clunk, clunk. A baby is crying somewhere. Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk, another inch and another inch. All of a sudden the train whistles, and people start clapping their hands.
“Yeah, we made it!” There is laughter and talking. The train is again moving with good speed. I ask Mom what happened and all she answers is “I’ll tell you some other time”.
My mother told me the story when we were back in Hamburg and I was back in school: “I didn’t want you to have nightmares about it.” She said. “That bridge was damaged near the middle. The metal rails that were still intact spanned a big hole. No way to back up the train and without support for the tracks our chances to reach the other side was questionable. The whole train could have fallen into an abyss, killing everyone. No wonder everybody was clapping when we made it across safely.
by @susieisms
https://steemit.com/story/@susieisms/illa-part-6
If you missed Part 1 - 4 you can find them here:
https://steemit.com/writing/@susieisms/illa-part-1
https://steemit.com/writing/@susieisms/illa-part-2