Our Family's Journey Through Time
A Wehrmacht truck drove into the school yard and was towing an anti-aircraft gun. The soldiers set up the gun in a corner of the yard and drove off. There was no ammunition for the gun and it just sat there until the war ended. I can remember us kids sitting in the seat and cranking the handles that turned the gun and moved the barrel up and down. We had a lot of fun shooting down imaginary airplanes. A couple of weeks after the Americans took over the area they came with a truck and hauled the gun off.
The occupation of Germany by the allies was in full swing. The Hanau/Gross Auheim area hosted the headquarters of the 381st MP Service Battalion. This unit provided guards for the supply trains and freight trains that were moving troops and supplies from the harbors in Northern Germany to the US Zone in Southern Germany. Hanau/Gross Auheim was a big railyard and all the trains would come into the area prior to being put on the right tracks for their destination. In order to provide meals for the Military Police guards and sack lunches for the soldiers on the troop trains, the Service Battalion erected a large mess tent next to the railyard. Obviously, food and candy, etc. was a big draw for us kids. One day while hustling the Gis I got caught. I had just come out from between two passenger cars when the train started to move. I felt a hand grab me and pull me away from the train. I looked, and it was an American soldier who had me by the arm. He led me over to the mess tent and called for someone to come out. One of the German employees came out and acted as interpreter. The American told me how dangerous it was to be around those train cars. He went inside and came out a short time later with a paper bag full of sack lunches and several oranges and apples. He handed me the bag and told me to go home and stay away from the rail yard. Several days later I was back at the yard. The lure of gum, candy and other goodies just could not keep me from there, and, of course, I got caught again by the same American GI. This time he took me to the mess tent again, gathered some goodies and the interpreter told me that the GI wanted me to show him where I lived. As we entered the yard of the school house where we lived my mom came rushing out to meet us. She was very concerned to see me in company of the American. Mom had studied English in Wismar, Mecklenburg at the Lyzeum were she went to school. She was very fluent and was able to have a conversation with the American soldier. After he left my mom also told me not to go to the rail yard again. The next day, the GI came by again and asked mom if she would like to work as an interpreter at the Battalion Headquarters of the 381st MP Svc Bn. He had set up an appointment for her with his Commanding Officer and mom did get the job, which made things a lot easier for us. Little did I know at the time that I had introduced my mom to my future step-dad, SFC Otto Roland Cook.
Food shortages, especially meat, were the order of the day. Farmers could not slaughter hogs or cattle without special permission, which was tough to get. Roland had made several German friends in the area, one of which was a farmer that had several hogs. A deal was made to trade a hog for several carton of cigarettes and some whiskey. The problem was now, where to slaughter the pig. Roland came up with a deuce and a half truck and two Gis to help. In the dark of night they loaded the pig on the back of the truck and drove out into the country side where they would shoot the pig. I went along for the ride. When we got to a likely place, one of the Gis took a pistol and attempted to kill the pig. He missed and was only able to wound the pig, which panicked and jumped off the back of the truck. The pig went running around the field squealing very loud. We were all afraid that someone would hear it. However, after a short while, the pig fell over and was dispatched with another shot. We drove back into town and the pig was transferred from the truck into the bath tub at our apartment. Roland was able to butcher the pig there. We gave some of the meat to our neighbors, kept some for us and the rest went to the mess tent for the American soldiers. Quite and experience for a six year old.
Christmas was rapidly approaching, although it seemed like it was crawling to me. I put my shoes out in the hallway on December 6th and was pleasantly surprised with some candy the next morning. On Christmas Eve mom, Roland and I were sitting in the kitchen eating when the door bell rang. Mom told me to go see who it was. I left the kitchen and went out into the hallway to our front door. I was a little apprehensive because of the season. For all I knew, St. Nikolaus and Knecht Rupprecht might still be around. Taking no chances I made sure that the safety chain was in place on the door, and I opened it a crack. A man I didn’t know was standing out in the landing. He was wearing a heavy blue felt coat, one that the German train engineers wore. He had a rucksack on his back and he also had two suitcases next to him. He asked for my mom by name. I said “Ein moment bitte (Just a moment)”, and went back to the kitchen and told mom. She got up and went out into the hallway. All of a sudden we heard her scream very loudly. Roland jumped up and ran out of the kitchen. I followed behind him. Standing out in the landing was mom hugging the man and crying loudly. It was my grandfather. Before the war ended my mom had gotten a letter from the German Wehrmacht that her father was reported missing and presumed dead on the Russian front. They were wrong. This turned out to be one of the happiest Christmas eves for our family.
Not too much happened in this little town. I remember a lot of Roland's friends always came over to our apartment. I would wear their MP helmets and pose for pics. One incident that I remember vividly involved our little fox terrier Putzi. He ran out of the yard one day and into the street just as a large truck passed by. He ran under the truck and I just knew that he got run over. Luck was with us, however, the truck passed over him without any injuries except for a small cut on his face.
When we first moved to Fürth, Rolands battalion was stationed at Grafenwöhr. One weekend he came into town and took me out to his battalion. We drove through some woods on the way and Roland stopped the car. He had his M1 carbine behind the seat along with some ammunition. He loaded it up and then showed me how to safely aim and fire the gun. Boy was I proud. I riddled a traffic sign with bullet holes. I don't think I missed once. When we got to Graf he showed me around and then we ate lunch in his mess hall. What a great experience for a kid.
We lived on Nürnberstrasse in a very old apartment building. There was a small courtyard out back with a gate that opened to a small road. Across the road was an open area and then a lot of railroad tracks. The freight cars would be stored there until needed again. The open area was used by the toy companies to deposit their scrap metal for pick-up to be recycled. For us kids this was a treasure trove. A lot of toy parts were thrown out because the paint was not right or other minor imperfections. We would go out and search through the mounds of metal and find the parts that made the finished toys.
A lot of the rail cars behind our apartment building were tank cars that had carried syrup from beets. I would climb up on the cars and unfasten the round lid that closed off the top. I would then climb down into the tank and fill containers with the left over syrup. Had to take care of that sweet tooth.
Roland's tour was up and he had returned to the States. We moved to Göttingen and lived with my uncle's family. We were here just long enough for mom to enroll me in violin classes. I never hated anything more than that!
My grandfather bought a house in a small community near Cologne where he lived and worked. He moved all of us down there into a very small house. My uncle and his family lived downstairs and mom and I lived in one room upstairs in a section of the attic that had been converted to a living space. We had no running water and the toilet facilities were an outhouse out in the back yard. Things were real tough. Mom had a hard time finding a job, and money was very tight. She finally got a job from a textile plant. The work was done at home. She would take her bicycle to the plant and pick up a roll of fabric. She would bring it home and it was mounted on a frame that was similar to a quilting frame. We both sat there and screened the roll for impurities, like lint, etc. We would pull it out with tweezers. When the roll was finished, mom would transport it on her bike back to the plant. She would get paid and pick up a new roll. This lasted for several months until mom was able to find a "real" job. She went to work as a cleaning woman in a butcher shop. I can imagine how nasty that was. Not long after that we got a letter from Roland that he was being transferred back to Europe, this time to an Army Supply Depot in Perigeux, France. As soon as he got there he sent for us and we gladly moved there.
Mom and I travelled to France by train. Roland picked us up from the station and we drove to a hotel, which was to be our home for the next few months. There was no Government housing and no American or German speaking schools. I was enrolled in a French grammar school. What a trip. It took me about 2 to 3 months and I was able to communicate and understand enough to be able to learn.Luckily we were there only for a short while. Roland put in for a transfer, it was approved and we moved back to Germany to Augsburg.
Finally things got back to normal. We lived the first couple of weeks in a hotel before mom was able to find a place for us to live. We moved to an apartment as "Untermieter" (sub tenant) and had two rooms to ourselves. I was enrolled in school and things were just about back to normal. Even though my birth town was Frankfurt, I always claimed Augsburg as my hometown. I spent my early teens there, made a lot of friends in school and in my neighborhood, and for once we did not move after a few months. Towards the end of 1954 Roland's overseas tour was up, and he was transferred stateside to Fort Eustis, Virginia. Mom put in the paperwork for immigration at the American Consulate in Munich, and we made several trips there for physicals, immunization, interviews, etc.. The usual wait for visas was about 2 years. Roland had a friend from high school in Hot Springs, Arkansas who was now a member of the US House of Representatives. I guess he called in a favor because we had our visas approved by the start of May, 1955. After mom got all the loose ends tied up we boarded a TWA flight in Frankfurt in July of 1955 for our trip to New York.
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