EiderstedtV

     I packed my few belongings, secured  them precariously onto the rack of the bike, hoping the tires would not blow. Much of the way I walked. The road south came from Denmark. It was the the main artery leading to Husum and beyond. I soon found that I was not the only person heading south. The entire German army stationed in Denmark was slowly winding its way in the same direction. Hundreds of men were on the march, or rather trek. There was no more marching done. Everybody seemed quite cheerful, even joking. Most of the time I walked the bike, making sure nothing would fall off. It was such a relief to know that nothing would come shooting at us out of the sky. I chatted with the soldiers when relaxing on the grass. Once I met up with a small group who were from Hamburg. One of the men was a well known actor in Hamburg who later opened a theater in his apartment called " Zimmertheater"
"Theater in the room". Another person with whom I had a lively conversation was the first cellist of the Berlin Philharmonic. We talked music politics in Berlin. Would Furtwaengler be conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic or Karajan.? Since the soldiers had brought their own canteen there was plenty of food. The sun was shining, the war was over, what more did we want? Many of the soldiers were fairly young. Some even almost boys who were pressed into service at the very end of the war. Sixteen year olds. On the other hand, many were well in their fifties. It is all very well for people nowadays to say: Why didn't we do this that or the other?" For example, such as not hanging the flag out on designated days. You were reported by someone. In the city it was the super of the apartment building you lived in. He had orders to report you. If he didn't, someone else in the building would report him for not doing his duty. And so it went. All of this was now over and now on this trek nobody seemed to be worried about the near future.
         So we wound our way slowly south until I had to turn west toward St.Peter, the very tip of Eiderstedt. My first encounter with a British soldier  came when I tried to enter the main road which runs all the way from Husum to St. Peter. I was stopped by a lone British soldier, pointing his rifle toward the ground saying something. I don't know what precisely. Though I had had at least six years of English in school I was not able to say anything other than "yes" or "no". Not a single English word came into my head, let alone sentence. Somehow I managed to convince him to please let me through and I made it the last fifty miles to St. Peter where I found my mother still laid up with a swollen  leg  Thus began our new "After the war" life with its many changes. Neither my mother or I were afraid of the British who behaved very gentlemanly. I remember two or three young soldiers talking to my mother, maybe questioning her. The conversation seemed almost jolly. I was amazed how well my mother was able to form sentences in very broken English which she remembered from her school  years and the times she had helped me with homework. There was even laughter. That was occupation
As I am writing this I remember why they were there. How could I forget?
        The British powers there be had given orders that all adult females had to evacuate  because the living quarters were needed for their own troupes. Luckily, my mother was allowed to stay. I just asked if I could take my bicycle and permission was granted. So, back I went in direction Husum. Only this time on top of a lorry, the British name for truck. I don't remember how many women we were or if there any children with them. We were housed in a huge barn where I slept exactly one night. Since I had my bicycle I was able to ride to Husum which was only about 20 miles away, and visit friends who themselves were refugees from North-East of Berlin. Not belonging had become the norm.
       The main reason the British wanted us females out of St. Peter was that it became a makeshift prisoner or war camp for the German soldiers who had trekked down from the North. By the time the summer was over everything slowly settled into a somewhat stable existence The British were hardly noticeable except when the drove by in their  jeeps.A make-shift high-school was organized for the children of the refugees. The husband of the owner of the piano had come out of hiding and now was appointed the highest government official for that region. They now moved into official quarters in Toenning, the local Government seat. By fall he had found larger quarters for my mother in the village of St. Peter from where life became much easier for her to manage. Meanwhile I had also moved to Toenning where I finally started to learn English.After all, it was about time.