The Russians Arrive
Straupitz, End of April, 1945, Age Ten
We were spending all of our days and nights in the cellar now, huddled together on piles of potatoes and coal. Somebody had set up a bed for Frau Karsten, the injured woman. The foot end of the bed was opposite the wooden cellar door, and subject to being hit by whatever came flying through this door which was riddled with machine gun holes after a few days. There was no room to put the bed elsewhere. Frau Karsten's little four-year-old girl was in bed with her mother, whimpering softly.
Crouched on the coal, we relived the Berlin bombings. More and more people tried to get into the cellar for shelter. Eventually there was standing room only and we had to lock the doors, feeling awful about turning away people who were seeking shelter. Days and nights blended together, accompanied by the machine gun fire and explosions of bombs — and the moaning of Frau Karsten who was in much pain. There were horror stories going around about the Russians who were approaching, and about the inhuman things they would do to us. I did not understand about rape or what it was, but I heard something about earrings being torn out of ears because they wanted the gold. I asked Mom to remove my little earrings which I had worn since I was less than a year old.
Everybody was at the breaking point, and some people told funny stories trying to cheer everyone up. I think I was only semi conscious because all the memories are blurred. People were talking about wanting to get it over with. Did they mean the Russians coming, or ending life? I was puzzled but it did not really matter. We had no choice over what was coming.
Finally one night-it was towards morning of one of the last days in April — it happened. There had been an ominous silence for hours after the air attacks stopped. With mounting anxiety we waited for something unknown to happen — then the first Russian soldiers walked into our crowded cellar. They were looking for German soldiers, guns, and women. My first impression was surprise. The feared Russians looked like human beings, people like we were. Unlike the enemy monsters I had pictured in my childish imagination, they did not have two heads, or looked like any of the bad characters in fairy tales. They looked every bit as human as we did. The only difference was that they spoke another language. A number of them seemed to know some German, especially the two words which installed terror into every woman: “Frau komm” (woman, come).
After all the horror stories that had circulated about the Russians, I was relieved to find that they seemed to be polite people. They had not walked in slashing and killing, as I had imagined. However, being a child it escaped my notice that they were looking the women over. Most of the refugees in our cellar, including our Miss Konrad, happened to be older people. Frau Karsten the wounded woman, Cousin Herta, and Mom were exceptions.
Mom's incredible sense for self-preservation and the protection of her young had her come up with unbelievable ideas. Here she was, a woman of only thirty-six and fairly attractive, she was a prime target to fall prey to the young Russian soldiers. I am still amazed at Mom's incredible coping ability and resourcefulness. To look as unattractive as possible, she smeared her face, neck, and hair with dirt from potatoes and the nearby pile of coal. Then she twisted her hair into a bun on the back of her head as most old people did. To top it off, she stuffed Peter's little pillow under her dress in the back so that she looked as if she were a hunchback. Mom would have won the grand prize for looking repulsive. She escaped degradation. Mom also looked out to protect me. Being only ten years old, but tall for my age, she was afraid that I would be judged older, and raped. I wore my hair in pigtails, and Mom made sure that the pigtails were showing to make me look younger. She also smeared my face with dirt and insisted that I bend my knees when I walked so that I wouldn't look so tall. At the time I did not understand why she was so concerned about me, and Mom did not explain.