Congratulations on being the desendant of a man smart enough to know what to do, and tough enough to be able to do it.Hi, this is a more personal story of mine (or of my family), I first planned to write about this on the 22 October, but that was also my first day at colloge so I was kinda busy. But better late than never:
My parents live in the north of Bavaria but for many generations, and as my Grandparents still do, my family has lived in died in the City of Kassel in Hesse. Heck, my great-great-great-grandfather ( I am nut 100% sure if I got all the greats) was a brewmaster and two of his more famous regular costumers were the Brothers Grimms and the roots of my family go even much deeper in this town.
So even though I lived my whole live in Bavaria I just moved to Kassel to start studying History and Politics here, but I am still not getting to the point of all this (guess I am a lousy story teller).
Since I moved here I heart some more stories from my Grandparents about our family history, and on of this stories was about the night of the 22.October 43. The night the city was completely destroyed in an allied air raid. My Grandmother was just four old (my grandfather was not born until after the war), when the alarms started. Luckly her Father, who served at the eastern front, had one of the rare home-holidays that night. Instead (as the law required) to go downstairs into the basement and hope for the best, he ordered his family to leave the house and to make their way together over the neraby bridge which leads over the fulda (back then the city ended there) and trying to get away from the attack instead of hoping to sitting it out. Just when they were leaving their home the local “Blockwart” showed up. (Blockwart: Blockleiter - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia ) He asked what the hell they were doing and why there were not in their basement. My Great-Grandfather told him that they were trying their luck at the other riverside, and that everyone who does not want to be burned alive should to the same. As he then proceeded to get his family to the bridge ignoring the Blockwart ordered him to go back and to stay into his basement, the Blockwart put himself in front of him and told him that this would be his last warning, and if he would not comply he would see that he and his family would pay the price. He had not even completely finished his last word when he was struck by my great-grandfather (as far as I know he served mostly as a loader for different kinds of artillery and had the fitting body for that job). After he had sended the Blockwart to the ground the he and his family rushed on to the bridge. While the Blockwart struggled to get back unto his feet and into his house (and basement) he shouted after my great-grandfather that he will have him hanged in the morning.
My Grandmother family managed to get over the bridge and far enough away in time. Everyone of their whole street who hat stayed indoors died in the fire bombing. My Great-grandfather was not hanged..the blockwart did not survive the attack either, he, and the rest of his family survived the whole war and continued to live in Kassel until his death.
I am not exactly sure what my point is with the story, but after I heart it, I was kinda struck from how much luck was needed in just that single night in order for my family to survive (and so allow me be born), and how easily it could have turned otherwise.
Please excuse my English which is even worse than usually but after over 12 hours at the campus I am kinda tired and my spellcheck doesn't work.
Emigrate to America. If you're from stock like that, we need you.