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When we came home the air was already filled with noise from the Russian army vehicles. Their trucks full of soldiers and artillery were rolling along the main road. And we hurried to our air raid shelter. Frau Bachmann, her children and Frau Jemzeff came running into our bunker. There was also Mutti and Papa and my sister Ellen, Fritz, Ottfried and myself. Fortunately Fritz had built the shelter large enough that also the neighbors would fit in.

Now we were all sitting in that dark underground place and our hearts were pounding. Now the moment would come, the moment we all had dreaded for so long. It won't be the human Americans after all, it will be the Asiatic hordes. You could actually feel in the bunker that every horrible story we ever heard about the Russians was racing through most of our minds. What will they do with us, will they kill us, will they torture us? How can they know that we were not Nazis, that everyone in this bunker hated Hitler with passion. Now everybody will claim to have hated him. Probably they will think that all Germans were Nazis, and that we are all responsible for what the evil monsters did.

And than the first gunshots were fired, and they sounded close by. We were used to all kind of killing sounds, but these were different. This time they did not come from the sky, and they were not far away. They were next door and could enter any minute. We knew that shots from the sky could bypass you but shots at close range never would. Frau Jemzeff was nearly out of her mind. She had a horrible fear of her countrymen. For years she had told over and over all her horrible revolution adversities. Suddenly all her gruesome memories started to attack her brain, her senses. The memories of the hateful distorted faces of the murdering Bolsheviks and the horrified faces of their victims. And now they would come, the Bolsheviks, they would be here. She had thought that she had escaped them. But, no, now twenty five years later the Bolsheviks had caught up with her. The Bolsheviks were here and they would definitely recognize her accent. They would know right away that she is Russian and they would kill her because she had left her country. Frau Jemzeff was trembling with her whole body. In the moment we heard the first shots Frau Jemzeff jumped up from her seat. Now the dreaded moment was there. Even though Frau Jemzeff had lived for a very long time in Germany she was still on the warpath with the German language. And the difference between the e i and the i e and a few other things she would never learn. And therefore she screamed into our eerie silent tension: "Ich höre Russen scheißen. Ich höre Russen scheißen."

There is a big difference in German between schießen and scheißen. One means shooting and the other shitting. The latter was( and may be still is) in German an unspeakable word much worse than in English and no decent person in his right mind would ever say it, especially not the cultured Frau Jemzeff. Into our tense silence she was screaming "I hear Russians shitting, I hear Russians shitting."

But when we heard this, we all burst into a roaring laughter. We were not able to control ourselves, we just couldn't stop laughing. Frau Jemzeff looked at us with horrified eyes. No that was too much. The Russians were here, and she was in a deep hole many rods under the ground with a herd of insane Germans who without question had lost their minds. How on earth could they otherwise laugh in a moment like this?

And she jumped up and sped out into the garden in which the gun bullets were whistling. The Russians were already in our street and moving from house to house shooting into each building to see if there would be any resistance. I must admit that this was quite an unpleasant feeling because there was the possibility that they also would aim into our bunker.

At exactly that moment my sister Ellen lost her nerves or mind or whatever. She seemed to have a short circuit. My sister, who always unselfishly shared every little bit and who always had been content with everything, stated now that she had not eaten anything today. She wanted to have her ration and that is now, now right away. And when nobody answered she got louder and shouted she wants something to eat. She was hungry. But when she would not stop Fritz got furious and yelled that she should shut up her crazy mouth. Ellen leaped up insulted and immediately raced also out of the shelter. And now it was Mutti's turn, she wanted to get after Ellen, and we had to hold on to her. And then Fritz decided to find Ellen. But now I got enraged. I did not want him to go. How could he go on his crutches into the bullet rain. But he went anyway. And then Papa went out to find Fritz. And then Mutti ran out to protect Papa.

And finally I thought that it would be best to know also what was going on outside. But then Ottfried started to scream. He wanted to come along. Since now the shooting sounded far away we gave up the bunker and also Frau Bachmann ran with her children to her home. In the meantime Fritz had found my sister Ellen. And Papa and Mutti had found Fritz. And then we all went into the house and were happy that we were all together again and not yet dead.

And then the door opened and the first Russians entered. What a surprise. They looked friendly, not fierce at all. They even introduced themselves with a bow. They were well bred and spoke a good German, also English if you preferred. They were young and extremely handsome. They were so polite. We couldn't believe it. And we had been so afraid of the Russians, the evil Russians, who murdered and raped. They shook warmly our hands. All seemed to be young students.

I was so happy that I had been right. I had suspected all the time that the foolish talk about the mean Russian was only evil propaganda.

They stayed for quite a while, did not want to go. They shook again our hands for a long time and we did the same and said affectionately good by and wished them the best of luck with all our heart, that nothing might happen to them, because they were the first fighting troops and had to go now and take the city of Berlin. How easy they could be harmed or even killed. We liked them very much these handsome Russians with their genuine warm kindness and their beautiful resounding language. But when they left they told us that the Russians who were coming after them were bad Russians and Ellen and I should go into hiding.

But now I got a little bit concerned about the ones who would follow, because the nice soldiers would certainly not say anything bad about their countrymen without a reason.

I wanted to dress up as a man. But Papa thought that this would not be a good idea. All young males could perhaps be gathered. Papa was right. Therefore was only one thing left, to make myself as ugly as possible. But when I looked into the mirror, I did not like that at all because I had the feeling of being somehow at a great disadvantage.

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The Taking Of Berlin

Fritz was standing outside. He was uninterruptedly looking into the direction of the inner City. Berlin was now hell itself. What might happen to his parents and his brother?

He decided to go and look for them. What an insane undertaking. How could he go into the fighting City? The only way was to walk. He had only one leg and his crutches. He did not yet have an artificial limp. With certainty he would be shot or ripped to pieces by the Stalin organs (their gruesome artillery). I tried to talk him out of it. I implored him to wait till the assault on the City had lessened or stopped. How could he help his parents and brothers anyway now?

But unfortunately just at that time started a quarrel between Mutti and Ellen and Ellen and Mutti. Fritz tried to calm them down but was told to mind his own business. And then Fritz declared that he could not take it anymore and grabbed his crutches to start off. I think he just used this as an excuse. Anyway I was not able to hold him back. That is always impossible when Fritz is furious. He said he just wanted to walk for a while to get rid of his anger. And he left with his crutches in forceful strides.

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And from Rummelsburg Fritz chose the road to the Frankfurter Allee. This very broad and large Berlin main eastern avenue was totally devastated. Not a single building was standing right or left. All houses had crumbled down. The smell of dust and cold soot still hovered above this ghostly scene. Fritz said it was a strange view, it all looked like a landscape from another planet. The Frankfurter Allee seemed like a dry river bed running through the bottom of huge eerie canyon-like mountains of rubble. On parts of the street there were still heavy siege artillery shooting into other parts of the town. They were lined up and you could see and hear their shells hissing through the air. The sounds were piercing and the air was full of powdered mortar which made it hard to see, and burnt the eyes and tasted bitter on the tongue.

And then Fritz saw whole divisions of Russian infantry advancing along this bizarre grotesque road as far as you could see. They came very organized in six rows and in forward marching step. They seemed to be elite troops. Their outfit was excellent. The same type they always used for their parades. They were all light-skinned and some were blond. You could mistake them for Germans. The only difference was the uniform. All were young and full of vitality. They seemed exhilarated and eager for battle. Each soldier was carrying a gun. Fritz was standing very close to the marching troops since there was not much space on account of the rubble right and left. Many divisions seemed passing by. From time to time a soldier would run to Fritz and ask in German "Wie weit Reichstag? Wie weit Reichstag?" (How far to Reichstag?)

The Reichstag was their goal. Ever since they had left Russia, ever since they were battling with all their might, the so hard to defeat Germans. There had been a race on between the army of Koniev and the army of Zhukov. The race to be the first to enter the city of Berlin. And they had been among the lucky ones. And now the race was on as to who would be the first to reach the Reichstag, the famous Reichstag, that building where they wanted to raise the Russian flag, their flag to show that they had taken the city of Berlin.

They knew that Hitler was living near the Reichstag and that he was deep underground hiding in his Bunker. But they did not know that just at that very moment Hitler was committing suicide. Cowardly- of course- not fighting heroic as he demanded from every- body else, from every man, woman and child. Fritz had no idea either. But it would not have been of too much interest to him. Hitler was finished anyway. Fritz was much more interested in watching the Russians, thinking that these soldiers certainly would not commit any of the horrors the people were so afraid of.

The Russians took no notice of Fritz whatsoever, they were much too excited about reaching the Reichstag. Fritz was the only German there. You could not see any German people . The ones who had lived in the basements of this street were dead or buried under the rubble. And the ones who survived were still in hiding in some holes. The Russian divisions were divided in small groups with a leader at the side. Since there was not much room on the devastated street Fritz was only two yards away from the marching Russians. But suddenly one of the group leader got suspicious stepped out of his line and went to Fritz. He took one of Fritz's crutches away. This crutch was a modern one, metal with an angle for the arm joint. The Russian examined it carefully, even looked inside. He probably feared that this might be a new type of weapon.

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Leaving the Frankfurter Allee Fritz tried to find a passable way to the Alexander Platz. At last he reached the area where it should have been. Fritz couldn't believe what he saw, couldn't believe that this really was the Alexander Platz. The Alexander Platz, the very center of Berlin. It was also completely leveled. He looked around. Where were all the high rise buildings? Where was Aschinger, where was Wertheim, and all the other department-stores? Where the train station? All you could see where a few bent metal frames sticking ghostly into the air. It looked so unreal.

How often Fritz had walked along this formerly so busy place of his childhood, where the streets were always jammed with people who were constantly crowding the sidewalks, pushing on, rushing in all directions, dashing, crossing the streets, hastening to the stores, speeding to the trains, to the busses, to the subway, where cars were blowing their horns, vendors shouting, where everybody was forever in a hurry. And now there was not a single German soul. Only a few Russians stood guard. Now all was gone, really gone, had disappeared, dissolved, evaporated, the shops, the houses, the streets, the cars, the trains, the people, all had simply vanished. All had turned to rubble and dust.

It was such an unreal, such a sad feeling. But slowly the awareness came to Fritz. That something else was gone too. The Nazis were gone. Hitler was gone. the SA was gone. The SS had vanished. The German army had vanished, had ceased to exist. The war was over, over at last. And that he never had to put on a horrid uniform and march ever again. There would be no more arrogant idiots he had to obey. No more superiors he had to submit. The whole spooky horror was not there anymore, all blown away. The nightmare had ended, was finished, finished at last.

But maybe it was just a dream and soon he had to yell again Heil Hitler and report to the next military office. But it was not a dream, it was really true.

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After the shooting in this area had lessened some civilians were crawling out of their hiding places. On one hill he saw a few Germans. They were surrounding somebody lying on the ground. This was an old man who had just stepped on an explosive. His whole leg was ripped off just minutes before. At that time there was no more water or electricity in the City.

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On his way back Fritz saw near the Kinzing-straße a group of Russians sitting in the ruins and eating. By now Fritz was very hungry and thirsty. He asked the Russians for a piece of bread. They were friendly guys and invited him right away to sit down and share what they had. It was hard to communicate. Fritz did not know any Russian, and they did not know much German. They seemed interested what had happened to his leg. They felt sorry for Fritz and to console him they slapped him on the shoulder and shouted joyful" Hitler kaput, Hitler kaput" and they laughed and Fritz joined their laughter and shouted with the same glee elated "Hitler kaput, Hitler kaput."

When Fritz left they handed him a large round cheese that had a diameter of about 40 centimeter and weighed at least twenty five pounds. Only a person who had lived through this time can imagine what this treasure meant. Fritz was incredibly happy. Since he needed both of his hands for the crutches he put a hole through the middle of the cheese. The soldiers gave him a piece of twine so Fritz could hang it over his shoulder, and he parted grateful from the friendly Russians. And they wished well to each other.

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When Fritz came to the Warschauer Brücke he saw a lot of dead Russians lying near a Tunnel entrance. It seemed that they had to take the bridge and were shot by German resistance from the other side. They were the same type of soldiers, as the students who had sung in our house. The Russians had not yet had time to take them away. It must have happened just shortly before.

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In Rummelsburg Fritz rested a little while in a corner of a ruin. He cannot remember that he slept but he must have because when he wanted to get up his cheese was gone. Somebody had stolen it. It was good that Fritz had not been awake. Some one might have killed him for this treasure. Soon Fritz saw more Germans. Some came crawling out of the ruins. They were all looking for water.

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In one street Fritz saw several dead horses on the ground. They had been hit by the artillery. Fritz cut a big piece out of one and hung it over his shoulder where the cheese had been. Later on Fritz passed a house where Russians were unloading bread from a huge wagon for their commander's garrison. Fritz lifted his hand and they threw him a whole loaf down and he put this riches into his shirt.

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Behind Köpenick a group of civilians appeared suddenly. They spoke Polish, looked very hostile and surrounded him. They were not armed but Fritz felt uneasy, because they were too many to fight them off especially standing only on one leg.

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Starving

Our Woltersdorf had been spared the actual fighting. But now came for us the worst of the whole war, that was the raping in our neighborhood and the hunger. The raping was bad, but the hunger, the hunger was worst. Our whole region, which was tightly populated was labeled by the Russians as "Selbstversorgungsgebiet" (food raising farmers country). That meant we would get no - absolutely no food in any form. We were a suburb with small houses and weekend homes, little decorative gardens, a few fruit trees perhaps. But mostly flowers and tiny lawns. Some people like myself who lived here over the last war year had raised some vegetables, but it was early spring, and we would not have been able to harvest before summer or even autumn. Furthermore there were no seeds available, no seed potatoes either.

We had a commandant, that was a Russian commanding officer, who was responsible for law and order, also for the food of his soldiers. But the feeding of the Germans in his district was not one of his duties. We were told to produce our own food. We lived very close to the City but unfortunately outside. We were actually only two or three miles away from the city limits. But it was outside the city limits. Therefore we did not receive any rations from Berlin.

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But the Russians had butchered and eaten all these animals the very first day. Therefore not even a drop of milk was available. There was no milk substitute either like dry or canned milk. We never received any of these products during the war, so nobody could store them for an emergency. In the East there were no cows in hundreds of German villages. All the infants who were not nursed by their mothers died within a very short time. But soon many mothers were not able to nurse their children anymore. They could not produce milk since they got no food themselves. They had to listen to the screaming of their infants until these got quiet and passed away. In the cemetery where Christian was buried the children's graves became more and more numerous. One row after another. Also the larger children started to die. Children have not so many reserves as grownups and cannot live long without food.

Many people had not prepared for this possibility. Had never thought that this could happen. We all had counted on little but nobody on nothing. The rations had been so small that it was nearly impossible to save any. And in the last weeks due to the heavy fighting and bombing, we got stamps but not food, So that whatever reserve some people had was eaten up by now. After Berlin was taken we had hoped that the Russian would give us some food, but that was not their intention at all, and it started to get desperate for the population in Woltersdorf.

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