it would be nice if all of my life had been one great journey of laughter and positivity but alas, not so......looking through my journal, it strikes me that there has been a lot of sadness in my life but out of sadness grows strength and looking at your glass always half full rather than half empty. If you don't maintain that attitude, it will drag you down and make you into a miserable human being. Lol, something I always strive to stay away from. Misery destroys.
text:Much has been written about World War II, but unless you have lived through it and been a part of it, you are in no position to write anything about it other than a factual account. Of course I don't remember much of the first few years of my childhood in Essen, other than they were very traumatic and had a huge impact on my life. World War II had started just a few weeks after my birth and with it came tears, screaming, helplessness, even hunger and great fear.
I vaguely remember those times when I was pulled out of my cot and taken to a bomb shelter. All our neighbours would be in this room, which was not really a shelter as you know it nowadays but part of the basement in a four or five story apartment building with no fortified walls. However, the door was heavy steel resembling one of those doors in a bank vault which would give you a sense of some security.
all of my life...
seeking refuge in a bomb shelter...cont’d.
whilst running or being dragged to a bomb shelter, all around me fires were burning, people were screaming, houses were destroyed and above me bombs were
falling, and airplanes flying very low, I could see how the bombs were falling out of their bellies....but worst of all were the fires and people lying in the streets, maybe hurt or dead. I just saw it but did not know...
It might not have been far to run, but one picture is indelibly imprinted on my mind and that is of a small stretch of an unlit street, no lights because of the blackouts, but fires everywhere and the people running down the street with us all looked like black ghosts..And all the time the loud howl of the sirens overhead...All this happened when a child is very impressionable,
I might have been anything from perhaps three years to four years old when extensive bombing started on my city and I have never forgotten. In spite of it or because of it, I grew into a very strong person though I had nightmares for many years long after the war had finished. I used to wake up in the middle of the night screaming and my beloved grandmother used to reach over and just touch me and whisper
gently it’s alright, child’...it’s alright...
We did not have the luxury of 'counselling' in those days unlike today.