Heritage German Roadmap

Webmaster's Bio
Meet Traute Klein,
AKA biogardener.

Heritage German Guestbook

Email from Belgrade, Memories of 1945

by Traute Klein, AKA biogardener

An April 1999 email from Belgrade evokes scenes of 1945 Germany. The pictures of 1999 and the memories of my 1945 experiences merge in stark reality.

In honor of Remembrance Day,
November 11, this article is my
contribution to peace on earth.

Also read "Kosovo: Memories of 1945"

For a description of the graphics, hold the mouse over each picture.

---

The following email was received on April 9, 1999. I am omitting names, telephone numbers, and other identifying comments to avoid problems for the people mentioned.

Dear friends from Jesus Christ,

Heavenly greetings from Belgrade!

We are constantly in prayers for the situation in our country. All saints from Yugoslavia are together in prayer and fasting. I am happy and getting more bold and encouraged to know that thousands of believers are praying for our country, me, my family, and believers in Yugoslavia.

NATO is still bombing. In the last three days they bombed even center of one city (Aleksina - there is not military targets) and 15 people died and 37 are wounded, 40 houses destroyed, and NATO said that was weapon failure? Terrible!

NATO tried to destroy the only bridge in Novi Sad. Christians from Novi Sad yesterday in big groups prayed and protested in the places where bridges where destroyed. Many people ask them what they are doing, and that a was great moment for witness, even newspaper wrote stories about it.

Serbian government proclaim truce on Kosovo, that police and army will not fight more, but in spite of that, NATO bombed that night 8 cities. They bombed even some chemical factories what can be big ecological disaster for Yugoslavia and Europe.

In Pristina, NATO destroyed one quarter and killed 12 people. Last night, one tomahawk struck one building in downtown Belgrade. Last night I heard one airplane, it sounded terrible.

Every night in Belgrade, professors, students, politicians, and other people are standing on the bridges, with their own bodies protecting them. Pray that NATO will not bomb bridges in Belgrade.

NATO is mobilizing Albanian men to use them for ground forces. Pray that will not come, because all men from Yugoslavia will have to go on Kosovo, even Christians. We Christians will refuse guns!

Christians from Macedonia told me that NATO has not allowed Humanitarian organizations, except Red Cross, to help refugees. They don’t why?

In midst of these dark happenings, there are positive moves from God. Many Christians are coming together in prayers and witness. Every day at 16:00, I am praying with students and every night at 20:00 with Christians from my building. In our neiboughood, xxx and her brother xxx are joining with us in prayers and singing. Please pray for them.

In our building are two ladies in 24 hours hiding. They are afraid so much. I met one of them today. I noticed, if this takes long, they will lose their minds.

Yesterday I find wheelchair for my father. Praise the Lord! He is doing a little better, but still cannot walk. Pray for my mother that God will give to her patience and strength.

Your brother and follower of Jesus Christ,
xxx

P.S. If I don’t write any more that means that internet communication is not working any more. Forward this message that many Christians will join in prayer.

Phone number 381-11-xxx-xxx or xxx-xxx

---

Königsberg, January 1945

It is winter. Last week, the city was covered in snow. Today, the streets are dry. The snow melted in one night of bombing when the entire city went up in flames. I am shivering on this cold January day, but the horse chestnut trees are blooming. They got confused on that night of conflagration, thinking it must be spring. Eery, to see and smell the blooms on trees devoid of leaves!

Braunsberg, February 5, 1945

We had heard and seen the Allied bombers passing over the city on their way to Königsberg many times. We no longer paid attention to the sirens warning us to take shelter. Today the planes are not passing. They are dropping their load of bombs on us. There is no industry here. All that this city can boast is a huge army hospital full of mangled bodies of soldiers. That hospital used to be my school. Today we will leave my native city, never to see it again.

Danzig, March 1945

Thousands of East Prussian refugees are crammed into a city in which few buildings remain standing. We are supposed to be in bomb shelters during air raids. The air raids are continuous. I can't sit in that bunker all day and all night. I need fresh air. My parents allow me to go out frequently to explore the neighborhood. It really makes little difference where I am. The bunkers don't hold the bombs. We found that out last week, when one of them left a gaping hole which now is our only source of light.

I wander onto the neighboring field, collecting some strange shapes of shrapnel, each one prettier than the last. They have to be handled carefully. They are sharp. A small plane passes over me shooting at me. I can see the pilot's face. I have a brother who is a pilot and an uncle who is a flight instructor. This pilot knows how to fly, but his aim is poor. He circles and tries two more times. His aim has not improved.

I wander down the long wide avenue lined with majestic trees. I don't look at the trees. From each one of them, the dead body of a teenage boy is hanging. Deserters! Scared boys! Fourteen years old. If they hadn't run, they would have been killed in action anyway. Other children are playing on this street. No one is talking. The planes overhead drown out all conversation. Another one of those little planes swoops down and shoots at us. This pilot is even more skilled than the last one, but his aim is just as poor.

When I return to the bunker, no one wants to admire my shrapnel collection. I don't mention the shooting, because I want to get fresh air again tomorrow. No one believes me when I tell them of the little plane flying above the avenue. Forty years later, I recognize the plane in one of the models which a neighbor has constructed. My husband tells me that it is a Spitfire, the most versatile little plane of World War II. He believes my story.

Hildesheim, March 22, 1945

In the evening the entire city seems to be moving onto the surrounding hills where they spend the night. They had secretly listened to the BBC and heard that the city would be bombed that night. No bomb has fallen on this city before. No one is going to destroy this pearl of medieval architecture.

In the morning, the exodus is reversed. Where the old medieval city had stood, the world's largest crater gapes into a cloudless sky. Not one the old building has survived, not even the cathedral with its 1000-year-old rose bush. The industrial sites on the outskirts of the city are not touched. These bombers had excellent aim.

Hildesheim, July 1968

I do not recognize the city. The phoenix has risen out of its ashes. The rose bush has sent new shoots from the 1000-year-old root. On this bush, Ludwig the Pious, lost in the forest during a hunt, had found his crucifix hanging and was able to find his way back to civilization. He built a chapel beside that rosebush in gratitude for being pointed in the right direction. According to the legend, as long as the rosebush is blooming, the future of the city is secure. This rose bush is still blooming in 1999.

I have also written an article on my personal experiences as a child refugee, "Kosovo: Memories of 1945"