8.
The topics for our music lessons had also changed. We used to sing innocent songs like “The Wandering Miller” but now we had started to sing political marches like “Hitler is our leader!”. We used to shout and sing. “The rotten bones are trembling, of the world before the war, We have smashed this terror, For us a great victory / We will continue to march, Even if everything shatters, Because today Germany hears us, And tomorrow the whole world”.
The sounds of the trumpets used to echo in schools, streets and arenas. Giant photos were hung everywhere, great statutes were erected, large arenas were established and great buildings were built. Crowded meetings, organized and magnificent rallies and exciting sermons were given which caused a sort of ecstatic pandemonium. The next show of force would start before the previous one had ended. We had come to worship power.
It was September of 1939. Petra and I were sitting at home. My father had gone to buy a newspaper. After a while, he came back with a newspaper in his hand.
“The war has begun!” he said.
He was clearly very upset when he said this. He wasn’t happy at all. He was worried. I was surprised to see my father like this but I did not say a word.
We all started to read the details of the news. Poland was occupied by our army. Our troops were obliterating every obstacle that stood in their way.
“We need more details.” said Petra.
She didn’t seem upset. Maybe it was because she was the daughter of an officer. She quickly turned the radio on. The latest news was reported every hour while marching songs were aired in between.
My father went to his room. Petra started to cook in the kitchen. I continued to listen to the radio. The news of “The Great German Army has saved Danzig. Our Air Forces are bombing Warsaw now…” excited me. I sang along with great enthusiasm to the marches that were aired in between the news.
My father, who saw me standing next to the radio, came close to me.
“That’s fine, now go and prepare the fire buckets” he said.
“Why?”
“Because war is never one-sided, that’s why.”
“What does that mean?”
“The British Air Force can come and bomb us at any moment. We need to be prepared.”
I looked at my father in shock.
“So you think Hamburg is going to be bombed by the British? That’s not possible!” I said.
“And why not?”
“Even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t be able to take a step outside their countries.”
“Oh really. So what, are you an expert on politics now?”
“It’s obvious. It’s what everyone thinks. And this war is between the Polish and us. No one has the right to interfere.”
“You have no idea what’s going on in the world. The French and the British could never ignore such a thing. They will be all over us very soon.”
“Well, we’ll teach them a lesson too. No one can beat our army!” I said proudly.
My father’s bushy eyebrows suddenly frowned down at me. He pierced me with his blue eyes. He had a deep hopelessness in his face. “Mervin, what can I ever say to you. They snatched you right out of my hands and brainwashed you with whatever nonsense they wanted. You never say a word that they didn’t make you memorize.” he said.
“Who?” I asked.
Instead of answering my question he said, “Come on now, do what I told you. Fill those buckets up!”
My father was talking about the Nazis but I hadn’t understood it back then. He didn’t like the Nazis. He wasn’t a member of their Party, either. He found their ideas unjust, but he was never able to openly criticize it. There was a lot of oppression. He didn’t even tell me what he thought, fearing that I might say something at school and get him in trouble.
Rainhard was happy about all of it though. “See children, Poland has become ours in just a short period of eighteen days. This is a great success. Now, it is time for France and England. Our brave armies will surely beat them too. Everything will be over and done with in no time.” he said.
My father was on one side, my teacher on the other while I was stuck somewhere in the middle. Who was I to believe in? My father who was worried and scared because the war had begun, or my teacher who reminded me of my warrior ancestors with his apparent fearlessness?
