Memories of my Mother by junge1
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No AI - This artwork was created entirely by hand or with traditional digital tools.
Description
This picture of my mother (on the right) and her girlfriend Ilse was taken in 1936.
My mother left her home in Sudetenland the following year and came to Berlin where my parents met and I was born.
My mother had a greater impact on my life than my father. Her constant reminders to wash my hands before eating, or her constant reminder to wipe my feet before coming in, or most importantly not to lie, took hold.
When I bumbed into a support pillar of the covered parking lot of my condo unit while parking my 1985 Nissan truck I put a dent into the fender, and I contemplated various options to get it fixed. One of the options was to report this as a hit-and-run on a Supermarket parking lot. The damage was just about enough to be plausible. And then I thought about my mother. That she would be ashamed of me for even thinking of doing something like that, and of course I didn't file the claim. The damage never got fixed.
Other memories date back to the period between the end of WWII and the time my father returned from POW camp.
Germany was in upheaval and civilized behavior went by the wayside. Everybody for themselve and women fought for their children like lionesses fought for their cubs.
Scheduled train service was non-existing. Trains ran when they could. If a train for instance had a capacity for 1000 passengers, but 2000-3000 people were waiting, there wasn't anybody that voluntarily gave up their chance to get on that train, because nobody knew if there was another train, or when it would come. It was everybody for them themselves. It was on one of those trains that I almost got trampled to death in the stampede of boarding.
The winter 1945-46 was unusually cold. Just about every night my mother and I used a little old sled to steal wood from abandoned barracks that had housed foreign workers. We did this secrectly, as did hundreds of others. Neighborhoods stole from each other, a 4 story high Birch tree in front of our apartment building disappeared over night one day, cut down by a group of neighbors.
We went constantly on trips around Berlin to barter, or beg, for food. My mother used items she no longer deemed essential to get a glass of milk for me, or get some potatoes, or a few slices of bread. We did a lot of walking when not on a train. Walks of 20km or so were common, and she coaxed me when I got tired. One day we got on a caboose of a train, no glass in the windows, and the train came to a stop over a River, I think it was the Havel. The tracks were on a temporary bridge, no way for us to get out, with ice flows drifting down the river and wet snow blowing through the caboose.
In late spring 1946 my mother decided to go back into Sudentenland once again, to salvage more of our belongings. This time she took me along. As we were starting to cross the woods that straddled the border between what ultimately became East Germany (DDR) and Czechoslovakia we ran into a Russian machine-gun position. Those soldiers good-naturedly waved us back. I was scared and wanted to go home, but my mother wanted to make another attempt. So we pretented to go back, but tried again to cross the border some distance away. This time we ran into a two-man Czech patrol. They turned us over the the Russian commandant. We spent what seemed all afternoon in this office in a requisitioned villa with a Russian orderly, waiting for the commandant to show up. The windows were open and it was warm. Sometime during this time my mother unwrapped a slice of bread for me to eat. This must have caused the Russian orderly to feel sorry for us and he let us out the back door. He indicated with hand signals, that if we get caugth it not only would be our necks, but his also. We didn't have to be told twice.
The lesson I learned from that was that not all Russians were communists and bad. One cannot judge the people of a nation by their government.
This picture is scanned.
Thank you for viewing and commenting and any favs,
Sig...
Comments (43)
moms are great like that and I share a comparable affection and respect for mine. wonderful photo and thanks much for sharing.
alte Fotos sind immer wieder faszinierend!!!! Wunderschönes Erinnerungsfoto!
Wonderful and very creative work
This is a lovely and moving tribute.
Sig...this is enough to choke me up. Well done. Having parents like you've had speaks well for how they were raised and therefore is a compliment to your grandparents as well. I am very impressed at the quality of this photo and the one you put up of your dad too. Your notes above makes a great story. Things were tight all over after the war, but this is a crystal clear picture of the chaos the civilian population had to endure for the months and years following May 1945. Thanks for this posting!!
this is post work in a pro way. your story touch my heart as i think of my mother too. Not so bad times as yours but what she put into my life. My mother too told me not to lie and to this day it still with me. I may get mix up on details but as far as i know i tell the truth
a wonderful tribute, very moving!the photo is very beautiful.
A wonderful Tribute again!!
Fathers are good, but mothers seem to be the best. She is very beautiful. True, countries and nationalities do not make up the person. I judge each person on their own behaviors. Honesty is still the best policy.... Aloha
Stunning picture of your mother my friend.Interesting fact that according to the ancestry of my family tree my Ancestor hail from Germany.Another one that is definitely going to my favorite list.Another interesting fact is that i am afrikaans speaking ,but one of my favorite subjects at school was of course German which i had as a subject Till i completed Std 10.
This is a beautiful memory of your mother, Sig! Your words have described a great woman! :)
great foto and story.
Wonderful photo and story!
The original write-up was at least twice as long. It included many more events and thoughts that should have been included to fully understand that era of time and the subsequent influence on my upbringing. It took me decades to fully understand the impact my parents had on the formation of my character and thinking. I know a lot about my parents, but now, when it is too late, there are so many unanswered questions. My father passed away aged 69 in 1981 and my mother passed away aged 91 in 2006. I had never even dreamed about posting these two uploads, but a poem by bmac62 (Bill) a retired professional American Army soldier who has seen his share of wars encouraged me indirectly with his poem 'The Tourist'. I owe Thanks to him for giving me the courage to post these. Thank you Bill!!!!
Impressionante e magnifica narrativa, imagem soberba, tributo fantástico a sua mãe, aplausos Mil
Fabulous Photo and Wondrous Caption.
Quite an amazing Lady!! Excellent dedication to a strong women.
WONDERFUL...very wonderful!
I must thank you again, my friend. This image is beautiful, and your stories touch my heart. I'm so glad you decided to share your family history with us.
Great picture of your mother Sig! A wonderful tribute :)
A great tribute and a touching story!!
Wonderful tribute and fantastic old photo......!!!
Great write up about your Mother and capture! I do lots of reading of history and its these type of stories that help one understand. Thank you again for sharing.
Well done Sig, your mother was beautiful.
very great dedi,first to your mother of course,and also the statement that not all russians and so on.. i guess that whereever you go and you saw a lot of the world there are bad and good people,whatever color religion beleifs culture,we are all chidren of the same source and we go back to that source(hopefully) great work overall. i mentionned someplaces already in my renders that i had real shitty childhood,but i must say that i have to thank my parents for what you said above, frankness honesty loyalty, respect towards each other(although that my father beat the shit out of everybody) cleanness of the body they gave us some valors and i am grateful for that. iwas born in 1955 and ute in 1946 so we had also some postwar adventures not with occupant troups but different. we did not took all for granted like today. our first tv set came when i was 12 in 1967 we had 3-4 shitty channels lol.
Cool Family pic
a stunning and beautiful woman. Nice memories too !
A tale of outstanding hardship and courage against such terrible odds! It was awful in Germany in '45-46. I have a friend who is half German on his Mother side. She grew up a very tough, strict woman. Your story's a wonderful. Fill gaps in people ideas of, 'how it was'. Outstanding. More. More. More! Rob.
Joli souvenir!
fabulous photo.. your mother is very beautiful there!