"...I remember the white aerial curtains in my room, they were somewhat translucent. One day, at the age of seven or eight, I woke up absolutely happy in the morning. It was Sunday, and I knew that me, my mother and father were going for a walk in the city; we lived then in a suburb of Hannover. It was already quite warm at day, and at night we used to keep my window slightly open. So, having opened my eyes, the first things I saw were those curtains and sunrays dancing through them, which were just falling on my favorite teddy-bear with a red ribbon. The door into my room was half-closed, but I still could hear a certain light song, as bravura as that sunny morning, through it. I already knew then that those were soldiers who would sing like that. I understood it was from the radio covered with a lacy napkin, that stood in our large room on the small table against the wall. Soon, I made out my mother's and father's voices. They had already gotten up. Thus, I lay for some time and listened. Then, I felt something was going to happen now. The radio could only be heard... My heart stood still because of anticipation... The door opened quietly, and my mother came in, and together with her, the music burst into the room. The curtains fluttered, and the sun with the melody filled the whole space. Mother, the sun, the music – my instinctive happiness had no limits... The song I heard then, is still my most favorite one, and I recall my mother and father, and that happiness of mine, every time I hear it..."

 

Erna Niedermeier, Hildesheim

 

 

"...The nephew of our neighbor, Frau Reinhold, sang in the Wehrmacht Chorus. I do not remember his name. Frau Reinhold loved him very much and was proud of him. She led a lonely life, her husband died long ago, and they had no children. Almost every Saturday she baked very tasty muffins with cinnamon and poppy, and invited us to have tea in the evening. We usually came with my mother and brother, and my father sometimes too, when he was not too tired. It seemed Frau Reinhold never turned off the radio. When military songs were broadcasted, she interrupted herself in mid sentence, strained her ears, and assured everybody that she distinguished her beloved nephew's voice in the common chorus. I did not believe her much. But in some songs, I remember, there were places where the voices did not sound absolutely harmonious – someone shot ahead, someone was late, and then maybe even I could make out someone who I knew. There also were some songs in which the nephew was the soloist – it was impossible not to recognize him in those songs – and of course, those were the songs Frau Reinhold loved most of all. Even now do I remember one of the songs. There was something about a sunny morning, a brier blossoming in a yard, and the most beautiful girl in the city... ...I only saw the nephew several times. He was always busy, went somewhere, and could not frequently visit Frau Reinhold, while she spoke about him very much, describing what he was like in his childhood when every Saturday he came to her, and how much he liked her muffins..."

 

Kerstin Zellinger, Siegburg

 

 

"...That day, in our city, the annual field-and-track run was held. Anyone could take part in it. My father had a friend, Rolf or Ralf by name, and he participated in that run. It was a real holiday for the city. Runners started from the square before the Town Hall after the burgomaster's declamation, and finished in the large park in the suburb where me and my father used to go for a walk on days off. The whole run took two or three hours. That time, we decided not to see the start, but at once went to the park to meet Rolf right at the tape. According to my father's words, Rolf was a good runner and therefore he should be nearly the first. At least, we thought so. In the park, there already were a lot of people. Close to the finish, there was a big brass band, and vigorous marches followed each other with no interruption. The day was clear, but unexpectedly cold for the middle of fall. Soon, me and my father felt that we began to freeze, besides, a wind arose from the gulf. Though the first runners had already finished, there was no Rolf among them. Being afraid of missing him, we did not go far from the finish tape, that was why we were in the thick of the crowd and music all the time. Soon, at last, Rolf appeared, he limped as he had twisted his ankles a bit, it was found out later, but had stayed the distance. Then, taking part in a big do, we went to a pub in the park, and my father allowed me to try beer for the first time in my life. I remember I liked it very much... ...There are some moments in my life that rise before my eyes when I recall my father. That day is one of them – the pale-blue autumn sky, the sun on the horizon, flags clapping on the cold wind, the noisy people around, the brass band's copper, and my cheerful father among his friends at a long wooden table in the hot pub where smoked wursts smelt so tasty..."

 

Volker Koch, Wilhelmshaven