Getting a Little Perspective

“In May 1945. I walked home from the war through the Black Forest. I was crossing the French line near Freudenstadt. Kindly, the French army did not capture me and let me return to my family. When I walked into the town, I found it completely destroyed. Many people were without food or home or hope for the future.”

I’ve never heard about World War II from the German perspective. Mostly, I’ve received the American version, a story of tragedy and triumph. A moment in history that revealed American character in the face of adversity, forged a new identity for a young nation and announced a changing of the guard in global politics. Americans (myself included) tend to have a very keen interest in this subject and I felt privileged to sit down with a couple of old German men a few days back in Freudenstadt. The small town in the Black Forest in the south of Germany, provided a relevant backdrop for the post-surrender tales.

Following the war, the devastated Berlin split into four quandrants. English, American and French Berlin on the West and Soviet Berlin on the East. The Soviets established a blockade around the city and effectively cut off the people inside the city confines from the supplies they needed to survive and rebuild the city. This strategy, a demonstration of power, put the city on the brink of starvation.

Without wanting further conflict with the Soviets, the allies created an “air lift” to supply the city. Using this opportunity re-engage Germans in the rehabilitation of their own country, the Allied commanders under American supervision developed a air transport system that has never been matched for efficiency and tonnage. For over a year, the “air lift” supplied a plane every minute with up to 20 tons of foodstuffs and other materials to the people of in the French, British and American quadrants of the city.

Within this larger activity came the advent of the raisin bombers. Noticing that children were running in the streets without school and without much to do, a pilot recommended that people from home tie tiny parachutes onto boxes of sweets so that they two could be used in the air drops. It’s estimated that over 20 tons of candy were dropped, in small doses, on the city over the same time.

German inclusion became a primary factor in the re-development of the country. The Marshall Plan prevailed, driving the re-industrialization of Germany in the post-war era.
Although this move was shrewd politically (a strong West Germany would be an important front in the Cold War), it demonstrated an important win-win strategy, something my German friends raise as a critical turning point for the economy and psyche of the nation.

In an day when the current of anti-American sentiment is tangible (though not nearly at the strength of my 2005 trip) and American foreign policy is highly criticized (though the Economist recently wrote a cover article observing encouraging trends in Iraq), it was a unique moment for me to be on the receiving end of high praise for American action in the international arena. Interestingly, I think it was the first time in a while that I’ve grasped the enormity of what happened in World War II. Nations that we know today as sturdy beacons of governance were completely over run and destroyed physically and disabled psychologically. These men talked a lot about how those issues were addressed, with great suffering on the German side following the war, but with gratitude for the part the US and other nations played in that process.

After the war, Germany split in 1948. The Berlin Wall didn’t go up for some more years, but a clear border marked the line where democracy and communism collided. My friend, Folker, told me a number of tales of his crosses between East and West. Following the war itself, he found himself on the East side, separated from his Father and two older brothers who never returned from the war. It took years for word to cross back to the family that all three were still alive and anxiously awaiting a reunion. A daring cross-border scramble the only way.

Another story discussed the emotional and psychological scars of war and how one young man worked through it. “I have German, Swiss and French blood in my family. One day, when I crossed the Rhine, the Germans harassed and searched my mother and I resented them for it. At that moment, I decided to settle in France and completely reject the German inside of me and the Germans in my family. It wasn’t hatred, but I no longer trusted them.

Years later from that incident, two couples arrived in Marsielle from the Ruhr area of Germany. I was called to help with translation. All of my colleagues were unavailable and, despite my pleading, I was employed. On short notice, I took a train from Paris and arrived at 8:00 for my 8:30 interpretation appointment.

I don’t remember what I interpreted, but I do remember the compliment I received from one of the German women. Even more, I remember the importance of spending two days with these couples in the south of France. The Germans had been rehumanized in my mind. My resentment was gone and I was free.”

His friend at the table spoke to the ripple effect of this liberation. The two met some years later and he said about his this companion.

“He taught me a big lesson in my life. My mother had never left Germany, but she always told me, ‘never trust the French because we had to fight them twice.’ I carried this with me my whole life until I met this gentleman. Suddenly everything my mother told me was gone and wrong.

He continued with a smile, “And for a few weeks I was wondering if that was the Swiss part in him or the German part in him that I liked. Of course, then I began to wonder if it was possible that I was wrong and that I had met a wonderful man who was also French. So between us, we had our own part of Franco-German reconciliation.”

These tales struck me with a sense of humanity and reality. European history came to life. I became aware of Europe’s size. It’s not a big neighborhood for the amount of people live here. It’s been battled over for thousands of years. It really highlights the miracle of the European Union and relative cooperation throughout the majority of the continent for many years now. It’s not perfect, but I take a lot hope away from the past 60 years.

I left the table with this closing thought: “70 years ago I lived on the other side of the Rhine. At that time, I could not cross the river because there were enemies on the other side. Today I joyfully drove across the river to visit my friends.