My Past Life as Katharina Adler                                         BACK <---

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Here is what I have been able to reconstruct about my past life.  In this past life I was Katharina, a girl growing up in Germany during WW II. I will begin by telling you about my very early years as Katharina, growing up in the city of Stuttgart Germany during the years of 1928 to 1953.I have put this together mostly from dreams that I’ve had over many years.

The Early Years

My Former Life as Katharina

I am glad to be able to share a part of my past - my past life that took place during WWII as a German girl named Katharina. I now feel compelled to tell her story, what this brave girl faced in this terrible time of world turmoil. As more of the events of her life - my past life - become clear, the better I am able to understand myself in this life. Actually, to write about this is giving me a sense of healing. I now understand my nightmares of being chased by soldiers, of crashing planes, fires, loud explosions - such nightmares that have plagued me for years.

I lived in Germany during WWII. My father was from Weinsheim, Deutschland, My mother's family was in Stuttgart.

During the early years we lived in a multi-story apartment building in the heart of Stuttgart. The building had a large lobby, and wide stairs that led to the upper levels. Our apartment was on the second floor. There was indoor plumbing and electricity - amenities that were considered the good life in the 1930’s.

We were fortunate to live in such a fine residence. My father made a comfortable living at his job at the Mercedes manufacturing plant, where he had worked his way up to a supervisory position.

I always looked forward to our visits to my father's house in Weinsheim.. We would travel there by train. I have memories of my very early childhood where I was walking down a dirt road. I was a young girl. I saw a barn with early model cars in front of it, and there was a long wood rail fence with horses grazing in a pasture beyond. Up the road from the rustic looking barn was a yellow farm house with white trim. There were tall trees all around the farm.

My father grew up in that farm house, and he went to Stuttgart to work in the auto factories there. That's where he met my mother. They fell in love and were married in the city of my mother’s birth in 1926. Soon afterwards, they moved into the apartment in the downtown district, and began their family. I was born in 1928, and my little sister came into the world in 1930.

My mother’s parents lived close by. Their older two story home was perched high up on a steep hill in west Stuttgart. It had a red tiled trussed roof with long dormers on each side. The dormers had four windows set side by side. The outside walls were made of plaster and these were painted white. There was a nice shady yard with apple trees and grape vines which grew along the property lines. Other buildings behind the house were the hen house, a tool shed, and a garage.

The early years of my life as Katharina were idyllic, care free and full of joy. I attended a primer school not too far from our apartment building. I only had to walk a few blocks to the school building, a red brick structure with the high windows of 19th century construction.

When I got home from school, I would do all of my chores - cleaning, helping with the meals, the dishes, before completing my lessons. If there was time left in the day, I would play fun games with my sister like bingo or hide n’ seek.

Sometimes I would go with my mother to my Grandfather’s store in the central district on her shopping day. She would often visit with grandfather for several hours, and I would wander off by myself and explore the rooms above the store.

I can remember climbing up many flights of wooden stairs to the top floor of the old building. Once at the very top floor, I would explore the dimly lit areas and pretend that I was in an ancient castle. The walls were made of brick, and the cement was very rough between the joints. There were about three separate long and narrow rooms up there, all with wide open access from one room to the next. The sides of the inner walls were vaulted , arching upwards towards the ceiling. There was only a few windows that were in the center rooms, and I could look down on the street below from here and watch the crowds of shoppers going about their business. This was the closest that one could get to television in those days!

I would stay up here for as long as I could, trying to hide from my mother and grandfather, and make them search for me. I would sit on the floor, resting my back on the cool brick wall, and I felt like a queen in her castle, my own little hiding place.

There was just some old junk here and there, and for the most part it was empty and looked as though it had never been used for anything. But it was so ancient looking, it looked as though it had been built hundreds of years ago.

I would have stayed up there for hours, had my mother not come searching for me. She'd call my name out as I heard her climbing  the stairs. I would not answer right away, as it became a game at this point to see if she could find me. Once she did, she would scold me mildly, and say that she did not understand why I wanted to go and spend so much time up there. But I think that she finally realized how much I enjoyed exploring all the oft' neglected spaces in this majestic old building.

My mother would take us girls swimming at an indoor swimming pool during hot, muggy summer days. The pool was within a large 1920's type building in the city. There was a very high ceiling within, and there was a very deep pool with diving boards at one end. I loved to swim for hours in that deep pool, diving off the side into the clear, cool water. It was a real treat!

It was also a real treat when my mother took us to Tripsdrill Park for a day outing.

(I have always had a recurring dream about an amusement park for many years. I began to wonder if this dream might fit in with the life of Katharina.. I thought that it would not be likely for there to have been an amusement park anywhere in Germany in the 1930's. However, I was wrong).

I did some research and found out that there was an amusement park very close to Stuttgart. This amusement park was Tripsdrill Park, and it is still in operation and going strong to this day. ( It must have been the first amusement park in all of Germany).

Yes, the park was founded in 1929, and it was near Stuttgart.

I was nine years old, perhaps younger, when my mother took my sister and I to Tripsdrill. It did not take us long to get there.

My favorite ride was the water chutes. This ride was multi level, and you had to climb up several flights of stairs to get to the top where the ride started. My sister and I ran excitedly up the steps to get in line.

Water rushed through a shallow, narrow channel. Little bob sled shaped boats floated within the channel, carrying two passengers around a curving, downward course towards the falls at the end of the ride.

When it was our turn, my sister and I got into a boat. I sat in the front and she got into the back. The little bob boat immediately lunged forward, pushed by the strong water current that was streaming along the channel.

First we went straight for a ways, then there was a sharp bend to the left, with a steep drop. My sister and I screamed as the little boat went faster and faster. Then there was another sharp bend to the right, followed by a long straight section where the boat slowed down to a crawl.

If your boat slowed down too much, you could get caught in the next bend. That's exactly what happened to us. Our little bobby boat became stuck at the next turn!

Then the boat behind us came barreling along, and we screamed as loudly as the girls behind us as they crashed into the back of our boat. They pushed our boat forwards and back into the water current. We were now moving again, but with the other girl's boat right on our tail!

Now we were heading for the fastest part of the water ride. We picked up speed rapidly, getting rammed the entire way by the boat behind us. The rapids were straight ahead, a sudden drop off that was the final plunge of terror for the ride. We held onto the sides as we sprang over the edge, and raced down the rapids at a frightening speed. My sister and I screamed hysterically, and the girls in the boat behind us also were screaming as we hydroplaned into the water of the receiving pool below. Their boat hit us again, thankfully pushing us in the right direction.

This was so exciting. Tripsdrill was a place of adventure and discovery for us. I am sure that that ride has either been torn down or rebuilt by now. Back then it sort of looked like a roller coaster on the outside, with lots of steel beams and levels that were visible. I think that now it has been enclosed within a castle structure. It is probably a better ride now than when I went on it so many years ago as Katharina.

Another one of my favorite places to visit was Bodensee (Lake Constance ), a beautiful lake south of Stuttgart. My family went there often to spend vacations. Oh, I loved Bodensee!. My family went there many times when I was young. Yes, I loved this beautiful mountain lake, surrounded by rustic alpine villages like Meersburg and Uberlingen. Bodensee was always a place of excitement with the finest hotels, restaurants and entertainment.

This beautiful lake was a familiar place, where I could find a sense of unity with nature. I remember the glistening water, sometimes still as a mirror, other times rippled by a strong northerly breeze. I knew well these distant shores with verdant hills and peaks reaching up towards the hazy sky in the background. As a young girl I would pick the lovely flowers that grew along the walkways by the shore.

This lake has a spirit of its own; and one becomes entranced by it, absorbed by its tranquility. Bodensee remains in my dreams to this day. Someday I will return to its shores.

When I was around nine year old, my mother’s sister was married. It was a very large wedding which took place in a large hall near the Nekar River. It was a huge building with two spiral staircases and immense windows soaring above.

After the wedding, I went down by the river to play with all of the other children. ( The adults all stayed inside to celebrate and drink all the wine ) Here there was a grassy area surrounded by tall trees that extended right up to the river’s edge. I remember running and playing tag with the other children, and my cousin, a boy about two years older, would like to chase me and sometimes he would catch me and pin me to the ground. Of course I slapped his face real hard when he did that.

I think that it was in the year 1939 when my German father took us to the Mercedes factory where he worked. He was promised a new car from the company for his loyalty and hard work for Mercedes. I remember my excitement as we went into the gigantic plant ( in Sindelfingen) My father and one of the co-workers gave us a little tour of the facility. I remember from my dreams the high beamed roof and the concrete floor, and hundreds of workers in their one-piece work uniforms at their stations, with cars and trucks in various stages of construction. The entire plant smelled of oil. We were taken on towards the end of the plant where the cars were in the finishing stages of assembly. Father went up to one of the cars, I think that it was a Mercedes 170V. He opened the door for my mother and us girls, and politely told us with a big beaming smile on his face to "step inside". We were so excited to enter a new car right off the assembly lines! The seat was so soft and plush, and seemed to conform to my small-framed body. It was a black car with black interior.

The car now entered the final phase of the assembly process, the inspections area. We stopped at several stations where workers came and inspected the car with a fine toothed comb. The motor was checked, the lights, the door handles, the mirrors, wipers - everything on the car was inspected per routine from a check off list. At last the car rolled out of the plant, and we had our car! It was such a dynamic, impressive car, with a smooth ride.

End of Part I

 The War Years

When Hitler sent armies marching across the continent in 1939, we went about our daily lives relatively unaffected by the tides of war. Hitler would speak on the radio in the evenings and make promises and tell the people that this would be an easy and swift war, and that the victorious German people would prosper forever.

I did not really understand all of this as a ten year old girl. Of course, there was the indoctrination in school and Jungmadelbund ( Hitler Youth ) service that swayed my views. One had to do their patriotic duty and have pride in the motherland.

I must admit that between the ages of 10 to 12, I did experience a great feeling of nationalistic pride. After all, we were winning the war easily at this time, and the future looked bright. Yes, I was indoctrinated, and accepted the Nazi propaganda without question. I was young and impressionable, and there was not any other alternative.

In many ways, the fact that there was a major war erupting across Europe had not really changed the lifestyle of the everyday citizen. We just went about our normal business with no disruption. I did not think to much about it.

When I was about 12 years old, I was an active member of the Jungmadelbund ( JM ). As part of our training, we went on a day excursion to the Westwall, also called the Siegfried line. The Westwall was a line of underground concrete bunkers that Hitler had constructed between 1938 and 1940. This line, located in the western part of Germany, ran from the northern part of the country all the way down to the border of Switzerland. In my dream I am there with other girls, and we are with our group leader. One of the soldiers showed us around the area. There were at least three lines of bunkers that were terraced into the hillside, and the bunkers were partially underground, with the western facing side exposed, We were told that this fortification made Germany invincible to attack, and we were made to believe that we were completely secure from any enemy that might want to invade our land. The bunkers were all new when I was there, in perfect condition, just built. My group walked along row after row of bunker installations, as our soldier tour guide showed us around the site.

Why did I go to Westwall with JM? I am thinking it was probably part of the propaganda campaign of the Nazis, to show the population the fortifications, and give everyone a sense of pride and trust in the military prowess. Of course the Nazis wanted that. And part of the requirements of JM was to go on field trips, to learm about our great country. So I was there, at Westwall, before it was blown to bits in 1945, before thousands of soldiers died attacking and defending it.

One winter day in 1940, I was waiting in the lobby of the apartment building with my mother and sister, waiting for the city trolley bus. There were about ten other people in the lobby with us, all waiting for the trolley bus to arrive, and watching out the large windows that faced toward the street.

A big, heavy set man was sitting on the bench outside the front of the building.

The bus drove up and the door swung open. Several people disembarked. The driver stepped off the bus. He was dressed in a dark blue uniform, and had on a captains hat with a white brim. He was a tall, slender man, about middle aged.

Suddenly there was a confrontation between the driver and a short woman in a long skirt. They exchanged angry words. Now the man who was sitting on the bench became involved. He yelled at the driver, clenching his fists. There was a scuffle and punches were thrown.

I was getting upset and I yelled to a woman in a long gray coat to call the police. There was a black, old fashion dial phone just behind her in a small enclave in the wall. She picked up the phone and called the police station, but by now some other men in the crowd had stopped the fight. The police were to late to do much, and my dream ended with me trembling and scared, hoping that the policemen would arrive soon to restore order.

As I reflect on this dream, I wonder if the man and woman were angry because they were being denied bus servise because they were Jewish. This may have been the case. Of course at the time, I was too young to understand what was happening.

The first signs of war that made an impression on my young mind happened on a trip to the northern Alps in the late summer of 1941.. We were down near the border between Germany and Switzerland/Austria. We walked down a steep trail into a deep gorge. There were high tan colored cliffs that towered above us as we reached the bottom of the gorge. As I looked up towards the rim of the gorge, I saw a sight that gave me a start. I shouted "look up there!" to my family. Their eyes all looked in the direction where I was pointing.

There up in a tall, sturdy tree, at the very top, was an airplane! It was a WWII style single engine fighter plane - stuck there in the upper branches of the tree! I marveled at this then and now - wondering how a plane got there. Did the pilot get shot down during one of the air raids, and managed to level off his plane before hitting the branches of the tree? The pilot probably survived, because the plane was completely intact! What had happened to the pilot? Was he rescued? Was he friend or foe? How long had that plane been up there? It was a miracle that the plane did not blow up or fall apart when it hit the tree. Yet there it was, suspended in the branches, in one piece!

This was the last time that we would go on a family trip with father. It was only a few months later that he was called to go to the city of Koln. ( Cologne ) His experience was needed there by the military, as more trucks were required immediately for the war effort.

He left home soon after the first air raid took place over Stuttgart. It gave us all a scare, and was a wake up call that the war was getting closer..


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4/5 May 1942
Stuttgart
121 aircraft - 69 Wellingtons, 19 Hampdens, 14 Lancasters, 12 Stirlings, 7 Halifaxes - on the first large raid on this city. 1 Stirling lost.
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I remember ( from dreams ) that we rode out this air raid down in the basement of the apartment buildings. My family slept on mats on the floor, along with many other families. There were some windows up high that had been covered to block out the light.

In my dream, I watched as a rat ran along a big long pipe that was was just below the windows. I watched the rat while everyone else was sleeping, as the all clear signal had sounded  and the air raid was by now long over. I watched that rat for a long time before finally nodding off to sleep myself.

Father decided that it was not safe to live in the city center after this raid. He told my mother to leave our apartment now and move in with her parents on the west side. He helped us move up the hill. We left a lot of our belongings back in the apartment, hoping to move back when the danger was over.

I was 14 years old when we moved in with my maternal grandparents in 1942. My mother was about 35, and my younger sister was 12. Once there, I helped my grandparents with all of the household jobs. I loved the outdoors, so I liked to pick the grapes and apples, and help grandfather with the gardening, and gathering eggs at the hen house.

Father left for Koln by mid May. He found a rented room in a house close to the downtown of the city. This is where he was on the night of May 30/31, 1942.
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May 30/31 1942
The Thousand Bomber Raid, Cologne
Father died in this air raid.
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Our family had been so happy in the early days, before father left Stuttgart. Then the bombing started and changed all our lives forever. When we learned of father’s death we were grief stricken for months afterwards. The war was now at our door.


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Bombing raids did increase after this, and our everyday life began to become disrupted.

One warm, sunny day, I was walking up a wide brick avenue near the city center.. It was probably around 11am,  Suddenly, air raid sirens sounded all around, and everyone started to run for the underground shelters that were located in the basements of nearby buildings. Everyone in the street was in a panic, and then we heard loud explosions, and this made everyone panic even more. As I ran towards a shelter, I saw a little girl who had fallen down on the red brick pavement, and she was crying and calling out for her mother. I reached down and picked her up, and continued to run towards the stairs of the shelter. Then I saw a woman wearing a scarf running towards us, screaming and tears streaming down her face. She called out to her child, and the little girl cried, Mamma! Mamma! I gave the girl to the woman, and she thanked me over and over again for helping her little girl.

I continued to move forwards with the mass of people, down the steps into the bomb shelter.

The loud explosions were probably our own artillery fire, shooting up smoke bombs and flak to thwart the enemy bombers.

  Many of the first air raids over Stuttgart were not successful. Many of the bombs hit wide of their mark or fell in the woods to the west of my Grandparents house. This all changed. In July of 1944 there were intensive air raids over Stuttgart, and the core or the city was heavily damaged.

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24/25 July 1944
461 Lancasters and 153 Halifaxes to Stuttgart. 17 Lancasters and 4 Halifaxes lost, 4.6 per cent of the force. This was the first of 3 heavy raids on Stuttgart in 5 nights and the only report available is a composite one for the 3 raids. The 3 raids caused the most serious damage of the war in the central districts of Stuttgart which, being situated in a series of narrow valleys, had eluded Bomber Command for several years. They were now devastated and most of Stuttgart's public and cultural buildings were destroyed. The second of the 3 raids, on the night of 25/26 July, was the most successful.

There were 17 Lancasters lost during that raid. I saw one of them fall from the sky.

It was a quiet, warm July evening. The year: 1944

My sister and I were playing a game similar to bingo on the floor of the living room in our grandparent's house in Stuttgart, Germany. Mother and my grandparents were in the kitchen. It was a nice, peaceful night.

Suddenly the lights went out. Then we heard several earth shattering deafening explosions that shook the entire house.

We were all caught off guard.

Then air raid sirens finally sounded. My mother yelled for us to get to the cellar. We all ran out the back door and headed for the cellar stairs, which were on the east side of the house.

It was very dark outside. We heard more bombs exploding down towards the central district, and the sky began to glow a brilliant orange in the direction from where the fires were now raging.

Suddenly I heard something above me. I froze in my tracks and looked up. I saw immediately what it was - an enormous airplane was falling in a downwards direction from above. It was gliding just above the treetops, and smoke was billowing from its wings. It made a low hissing noise as it went right above me. I watched as it crashed down towards the east of our house.

Everything happened so fast that I could not even move for a moment. The fires, the bombs blowing up below, the airplane crash. I stared in disbelief..... I probably did not stand there for more than 10 seconds when my mother realized that I was no longer by her side. She turned back and yelled out my name, motioning for me to come to the cellar. I ran towards her immediately, and we all ran down the steps into the darkness below.

The bombs continued to fall. It seemed like forever before the explosions stopped rocking the house. By the time we were able to come out of the cellar, the city was in shambles. Many city buildings were obliterated, including the town Hall.

The flames continued into the night. I could not sleep well after this, and the nightmares would follow me even into my next life.

I believe that the plane that I saw crash below my Grandparent’s house was one of those 17 Lancasters .that were lost that night.

The central district of Stuttgart was never the same again.

The apartment building where my family had lived was heavily damaged in the raid, and I remember going back to get our belongings out. When we arrived at the building, we were horrified at the extent of the damage. We went into the lobby and walked up the wide stairs to the second floor. I looked up and could see a giant hole in the ceiling of the hallway. Wires and wooden beams were dangling from the gaping hole. I could see the blue sky right up through the center of the enormous hole.

We took whatever belongings that we could carry out of the damaged building, and never returned. Things would only get worse.

Grandfather’s store in markt plaz was also severely damaged.

I remember going to the store with Grandfather, and seeing all of the debris everywhere, broken glass, fallen timbers, holes in the walls. We went to help him clean up the store, and he decided to close it forever.

It was a variety store. There was everything from clothing to fine china ware. Most of the goods were damaged by the bombs and fires that followed the raid. We salvaged what we could from the store, and from the 2nd floor storage area. What was salvageable we sold out in front of the store once we swept away the debris. My grandfather never re-opened the store. It had been a family business that was passed down for over a hundred years.

As usual, when we went to Grandfather’s store, I had to go and explore. I went up to the second floor warehouse area.

There was a large open door there where trucks unloaded freight. This was raised up to the second floor via a conveyor belt, which continued into the 2nd floor storage area. I was there alone, and I heard some men yelling outside down below. I was in a panic when I heard them, but I walked closer towards the open freight door, hiding behind some boxes. I could see the men below, and they were speaking German. They looked like military men in uniforms - could have been ss, and I was very frightened when I saw them. I think that they were arguing on how to handle the situation in the city after the bombing, as many people were beginning to panic and move out of the city's central district.

I knew that my Grandfather was closing his store forever, selling off what was left of his merchandise. Many other shop owners were doing the same, taking a loss. I think that the authorities wanted to stop this in order to maintain some control over the situation.

The bombing continued for months. Our city was crumbling under foot, and there was nothing that we could do except pray.

It was the first week of December, 1944.. I was outside in the backyard helping Grandfather with the chores. I was helping him to stack firewood when we heard the low hum of planes in the distance. We stopped our work to look up at the sky.

There were not any planes above. No, the sound of the planes seemed to be coming from somewhere towards the west of the house. I followed Grandfather as he walked to the alley. We had a better view of the woods towards the west from here, and the constant drone of the planes seemed to be coming from that direction, well beyond the golden treetops, whose leaves had not yet completely shed.

Now we could hear the far off percussion of bombs exploding.

A town towards the west of Stuttgart was being bombed. I felt sick in my stomach as I heard one rumbling explosion after the other, along with the constant drone of the bombers circling their target. A purple haze of smoke now spread across the horizon above the tree line, where golden leaves glistened in the sunlight of early afternoon.

Grandfather and I went back to the chores, as the sounds of bombs continued for a lengthy time. We had to keep busy to keep our minds off of what was happening. On this day the planes would get closer.

Later that day, we all had to take cover in the cellar as the airfields and marshalling yards were bombed. It felt like the bombs were falling all around us.

My sister and I began to cry in our mother's arms. She held us closely. I looked up into her face, and could see her tear streaked face. She also cried.




The plaster was cracked and chipping off of the ceiling in the large closet in the entrance to my grandparent's house. It began to fall down in large sheets. Grandfather said that it was too dangerous to go in there.

It was a huge closet, a walk-in, measuring about 6 by 10 feet .It also was a very high closet, probably about 12 feet up to the top. Where the ceiling and wall met, there was a curved cornice, also made of plaster. There were shelves that were built in along at least two sides. There were all kinds of miscellaneous items on the shelves, from old files to glass jars.

But now the ceiling was falling down.

Now I remember why the plaster was cracking and falling from the ceiling in sheets. It was the bombing. The constant pounding and blasts from the air raids, which became more numerous after 1944. The bombs were loud and shook our house, and this caused
the plaster to fall.

During the raids, we felt the percussion of the bombs until we became numb. It began to feel like the wrath of an angry god raining fire down on us.
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After each raid, grandmother and I would sweep the floors to clean up all of the fallen plaster. We would try to not talk about the latest raid, the sickening sirens that made our hearts go faint, or the dark cellar where we rode it out. Of course, we were all thinking to ourselves about how we could get through this, how much more could we take, when would this nightmare end?

The plaster falling from the ceiling represented our feelings of hopelessness, our shattered lives, our shattered city.

By now Hitler was losing his war. It was now obvious to most sane people that this war had been foolish from the get-go, we should have never have played with fire, for now we were getting burned literally.

By 1945, Armies were sweeping into Germany.

(After difficult fighting for Heilbronn, the U.S. 100th Infantry Division met no organized resistance as it enveloped Stuttgart on the north and east edge of the city on the 20 and 21st of April 1945. At the same time, French Units pushed into Stuttgart also without resistance. The day before the arrival of the French in Stuttgart, the Allied Sixth Army Group commander, General Jacob L. Devers, shifted the army boundary slightly to the south to place Stuttgart in the zone of the Seventh Army, which needed the city to maintain supply routes to American units moving towards Ulm. At this point General de
Gaulle intervened. Precipitating one of several disturbing incidents that challenged Allied authority, he directed his commander to ignore General Devers' orders and to remain in Stuttgart until the Allies had agreed upon a suitable occupation zone in Germany for France. General Eisenhower and President Truman became involved in the "Stuttgart Incident" before it was settled seven weeks later and French forces, mostly soldiers from
Senegal, Tunisia, and Morocco, vacated Stuttgart, Vaihingen, and the Kurmärker Kaserne.")

My grandparents home was on the western side of Stuttgart, and this is where the French regiments first drove into the city. They pushed into the city in the early morning hours, so many people had little or no warning of the nature of the danger at hand. Homes were ransacked and many of the owners and their families were beaten and assaulted. My mother and younger sister were able to hide up in the attic just in time, but grandfather tried to resist them, and he was severely beaten. I ran into the house from the back when I heard the commotion (I was gathering eggs from the henhouse). Grandfather was laying on the floor, bleeding. I screamed frantically. Then I was taken captive.

I had been taken captive by soldiers and was being held in the back of an army truck. Later that day the trucks stopped and the soldiers got out and were talking among themselves, smoking. I saw an opportunity to escape, so I got up and jumped down from the back of the truck and ran as fast as I could into a rocky ravine. The men began to shout angrily in a language that I did not understand and one of the soldiers shot at me. I ducked behind a boulder, then I ran for the woods which were nearby. As I ran through the woods, I noticed a house straight ahead in a clearing. I ran up to this house.

There was a balcony that encircled it, and I ran up the stairs to this balcony. I pounded on the door and screamed for help, but nobody came. I opened the door and ran inside. Once inside I could hear the soldiers' footsteps on the stairs. I ran into several of the rooms seeking a place to hide. I finally ran into a small room that was an entryway from the balcony, and I slammed the door shut and stood there with my heart pounding, out of breath. I could hear the voices of the soldiers in the adjoining room. The door knob turned and the door began to slowly swing open.

I was taken forcefully. I passed out.

When I woke up, I saw hundreds of tents. All lined up in an open field, along the dusty lane. Trees and vines grew along the fence lines of the green fields. This is where I was taken after I tried to flee from the soldiers.

The camp was established in several fields and consisted of hundreds of tents. You could look up from the gravel road and see tents all the way up to the crest of the hill in the distance. ( from the right side of the road )

The green fields and towering trees were beautiful, but the countless tents were just ugly. They did not belong here, these foreigners in my homeland. I was trembling as I was taken into the camp. I went into shock, and whatever happened there just became a blank.

I knew that I had to somehow escape from that army camp, so I waited for the opportune time. Several of the other girls and I decided to make a run for it after about the fourth day. We decided to all meet at a tree over by the far side. We planned to get out in the early hours of darkness, around 3am. I had to go around and quietly arouse all of the other girls. Then some of these girls aroused some of their friends that were in other tents. Somehow we all were able to gather at the meeting point, under a tree.

No one in the camp suspected that we were missing, we were so quiet implementing this phase of our plan. Most of the soldiers were either drunk and sleeping it off, or playing poker in other tents.

We ran swiftly towards a wooded area. I had taken a flashlight from the tent, and this helped us to navigate through the woods. By the time the sun came up we were miles away from the dreaded army camp. We saw a farmhouse in the distance, and we cautiously approached it.

We looked a mess! No shoes, dirty and tattered clothing. We all prayed that we would find someone friendly in the farmhouse!

We approached the farm house cautiously. ( There were at least 9 other girls with me ) We did not want to be seen by soldiers, so we would run from tree to tree, hiding as much as possible as we came up towards an old two story brown-stone. The other girls hid behind some grain bins as I went slowly up the stairs to the long wooden porch. I knocked on the door. Nobody answered. I continued to knock for a long time. I could just see from the corner of my eye the window curtain move just a little, as though someone were there peeking out at me. Then I could hear someone walk towards the door.

The door slowly opened and there was a little old lady standing there. She took one look at me, then she began to hug me and kiss my head, and I saw tears well up in her eyes. I told her about our ordeal, and that there were others with me. I motioned to the other girls, and they came out of hiding and joined me on the porch.

The old woman took us into her house and fed us, washed us, and gave us something to wear. She made clothes for us from linens and other materials that she had.

The woman in the farm house was a widow. She had lost her husband years earlier, and she did not know where her sons were. When soldiers came to her farm in search of booty, she had hid in a trench area that was dug out beneath a bush that was about 60 feet from the house, near a shed. She could put a wood cover over the trench that had leaves and twigs affixed to the top - perfect camouflage! This " hole in the ground" was large enough to fit all of us. She told us that if we heard army trucks or saw foot soldiers, to hide here immediately!

We stayed at the farm for several weeks. It was too dangerous for us to return to our homes at this time, as there was still unrest and utter chaos in the city. ( Stuttgart ) In those days, if you had food and water, and a good hiding place, it was best to stay put. So that is what we did until the Americans came and restored order in the city.

*The old woman at the farm ( we affectionately called her “grandma” in German,
“Oma” ) was very loving and she cared for us displaced girls for almost two months.

One day in the middle of July 1945 her daughter came to visit from Stuttgart. She told us that the city was now safe since the Americans had taken control.
After the French withdrawal in July of 1945, the situation in Stuttgart vastly improved, especially after the Americans arrived and restored order. The city had suffered serious damage during the closing stages of the war, and also deprivations at the hands of certain French divisions that swept into the city between April and May of 1945. With the arrival of the Americans, the city began to recover to some sense of normalcy, and the streets became relatively safe once again.

All of us girls missed our homes. We decided that it was time to go. We all embraced “Grandma” and tearfully said our farewells, and left for Stuttgart in her daughter’s car.
( sitting on each other’s laps, no doubt!)

Once back in Stuttgart, we were immediately taken to a hospital ( one that was rebuilt on the outskirts ) We were treated at the hospital for several weeks, and eventually our families came to visit us. I was back at home by the middle of August.

End of The War Years
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * *** *****

The Post War Years

I finally arrived home after a long stay in the hospital. Nothing was ever quite the same. Both of my grandparents had been injured during the attack and utter chaos when the soldiers entered our home. They never seemed to recover from these injuries, they became distant and seemed to give up on life. The soldiers had ransacked the house and stolen whatever valuable items they could lay their hands on. By the time I got home, the house had been repaired, but the damage caused to us could never be repaired. We were devastated, as were thousands of other families in this bombed out, looted city.

I fell into a deep depression at this time, and lived a life of a hermit. I would not venture out of the house for fear of the soldiers that passed our residence in their army vehicles. This went on for several months, It was difficult to reassemble the broken pieces of one's life in this gloomy time.

I felt like I had been shamed. Every time my mother, grandma, or grandfather looked at me, I felt as though they were judging me. I know that they did not do this intentionally. They looked at me in a different way now, as though I had been contaminated by being forced by the soldiers. I cried a lot, but I was strong, and continued despite the bad feelings.

Grandfather wasted away and he died in 1946. He had suffered so much during the War. He had lost his store during the bombing raids, a business that had been passed down for generations. And then the onslaught of the invaders, taking away everything that we held so dear - our independence, our spirit, our optimism.

We had been well to do before the war. Now we were reduced to foraging for every meal. Finally, I had to gather my stamina as best I could and go out to tend the garden and vines, apple trees and hen house. My mother came to help me, and I was able to bond once again with her.

These were difficult times. I had to be strong and hold our family together, especially after Grandfather died. When he was gone, I tried to fill his shoes, and do everything that he did to provide for the family - gardening, tending the grape vines and apple trees, managing the household.. It was best to keep busy in order to forget old scars, but there were still those times when life began to feel futile.

It did take a long time to rebuild our lives. We did not really feel secure with foreigners running our affairs, and we had to adjust to this as well as to all of the other hardships we had to endure

Life was very difficult for everyone in the shattered cities of Germany. We had to become self sufficient. We were fortunate in that we could produce our own food on our property, thanks to Grandfather's great wisdom of planting apple trees and grapes years earlier. We had to take our apples and grapes to an open air market on the edge of the city. This was the only place where people in our city could get scarce food items. There were no markets left in the central district. These open air markets now became the mainstay of necessity in the war torn city.

We would go there, pushing our apples and grapes in a wooden cart, and barter these items for staples like milk, butter, or perhaps a side of ham. If you wanted to get bread and butter, you had to trade for it, because the money was worthless. This is how we survived that first year after the war. Many people were less fortunate than us, and they had to do without.
.
Once our apples and grapes ran out, we had to resort to trading our possessions, like chairs, or whatever we could find out in Grandfather's tool shed. Nails and boards, or a hand saw and hammer, would bring us some of the items that we craved. It was an all day chore to carry these things in hand carts to the market. But if you wanted these premium items, you had to work hard and just hope that you had some things available that were tradable.

Going to the farm open market was an all day affair, so by the time we got home we were exhausted. If we were lucky, we would come home with the precious items that we sought after most - milk, bread and butter, flour, and a side of ham or bacon. Other food we could raise on our own, like potatoes, lettuce, and carrots in our garden, eggs from our hen house, and occasionally we might eat a hen.

We pulled through the difficult times. Of course, everyday was a challenge.

The center of Stuttgart lay in ashes. There was not much left of the former downtown district. Only a few isolated walls remained standing here and there. The rest was pulverized into the ground. The entire central part of town resembled ground zero after the 9-11 attacks. Cathedrals, government buildings, cultural centers, stores, apartments, and whatever else lay in the path of clusters of bombs were all gone.

My mother got a job working at the Army base in Stuttgart in 1947. She put in long hours at the base. When she began dating an officer, she began to become more distant from me. I became closer to my sister and grandmother during this time, as it seemed that my mother was more interested in this other man. I missed our real father, and I could not accept this intruder into our family.

Grandmother became very sick, and she died in the early months of 1948. My life became very empty. Both my grandparents and my father were now gone. It seemed as though the war had now taken away my happiness, my hope, and my life. I had to continue to be strong, and it was up to me and my younger sister to maintain the house. Mother was too busy at the base and staying out with her man friend.

Mother remarried in the summer of 1949. It would take me a long time to get used to the idea of my mother married to another man. He could never take the place of my real father. But at least my mother was happy, so that helped.

When I turned 22 years old ( 1950 ) my mother began to prod me to go to dances at the
army base. At first I refused. I was terrified by the thought. Somehow she persuaded me to go with her and stepfather to a dance hall. I did not like it there at all, and to have to witness all of the drinking going on and watching all of the German women becoming loose and easy was repulsive.

Then my stepfather introduced me to Danny at the club. He was a very attractive man in his mid twenties. I must admit that I fell for him almost immediately, but there was a real
communication barrier, as he did not speak German well, and my English was shoddy.
By this time my mother had learned English, and she helped us to understand one another.

I had never dated at all before I met Danny. Now he became my one true love. We went dancing every weekend, and we enjoyed going to the movies. I learned English more quickly than he was able to master German, so we could now converse in his native language.

Danny made a difference in my life. He would tell me about America, and he promised that someday we would go and live there. He was of German heritage, too! His grandparents had immigrated to America from Frankfurt.

We married in the spring of 1951. We spent our honeymoon at Bodensee ( Lake Constance )

Danny was transferred to the U.S. Army base in Wiesbaden, Germany. We lived in the base housing ( a very small cramped apartment ) I hated living in such confining quarters and I missed my home. I hated being away from Danny even more, because his duties became more time demanding and he was away often.

I always looked forward to the weekends or when Danny had leave time. We would frequent the movie houses. The one that we went to not far from the base would show three films in one evening, We would arrive at the movie house at 8’ock in the evening, and stay till after mid-night. The place was almost always packed.

The base always seemed like such an ugly, depressing place, almost repressive. I hated it there. I had always been such a free spirit; this place was like a prison. I never fit in with the military crowd, and my English was limited then. This was a very sad time in my life.

During our second year in Wiesbaden, I became very sick. This happened after I became pregnant. My face was pale, and I became so weak that I could hardly get out of bed. I really don't think that I lived much longer after this.

I died at that horrible Army base I died as the result of complications of childbirth. The child was also lost.

I was dead at the age of 25.
...........................................................................................................
Beyond Death

The barren tree branches hang low in the cold air of February, their jagged shapes a reminder of the futility I sense in this moment in time. The tall evergreens that surround this place do not offer me solace. There is an old building just beyond a shallow ravine.

The cold means nothing, I don't even feel it. I am alone, deprived of life suddenly without warning. Here where I was buried in this cemetery by my dear sweet mother, next to her departed family.

I feel cheated, that my life has been taken from me in the prime of my youth. To die alone on the floor of a military housing unit in Wiesbaden, to lose my child by a sudden severe hemorrhaging at three months into my pregnancy - and no one was there to help me. Yes, I felt cheated, and anger.

Where do I go, what am I to do now?

The sun sets and the light grows dim in the cemetery. Soon all fades away.

I will go where the spirits beckon.

Go onwards, Katharina, to Altes Schloss, where the souls of many children reside within the corridors. I go to bring them home, to gather these little souls and bring them towards the light. To the angry woman who tried to stop me there,and almost pulled me down from my swift flight - I know that you just didn't understand. You were just trying to protect the children. Even though I had to fight you at that tiime, and overcome you to bring the children towards the light, I understand  your protectiveness, your anger and fear. As we move towards healing, we now make our peace. Forever peace.

 Jan 7 2008, 02:17 PM