Ella and Harold
To continue with the rest.
The memory of that first visit in East Germany in 1947 is painful because of the surrounding personal circumstances of my husband's parents,
refugees from the Sudetenland, expelled by Czechoslovakia in 1944 within hours with only the clothes on their backs and what they could carry.
Ten million refugees fled westward from the advancing Russians, and there are countless such heart-breaking stories. But I did not want to narrate only this personal story but report instead on the general, overall picture, and make clear in particular that a whole large region was like a a prison, its border sealed, and Berlin an relatively small island in that red sea.
Between 1947 and 1954, when we left for America, my husband took a number of trips into the Soviet zone, mainly food, and fruit - the grandchildren had never seen bananas! We did not have a car and he used the train.
General Lucius Clay, the father of the Berlin airlift, was the military Governor of the American zone from 1947 - 1949. Doubtless he realized that the Reichsmark had become obsolete. In any event, in June of 1948 a currency reform was announced to take effect a week later. The Reichsmark was supplanted by the Deutsche Mark (also called D-Mark). Every German received 50 D-marks. It was the 26th of June 1948 , my wedding day, how could I ever forget ? My sister came from Stuttgart with her 50 D-marks. It was an auspicious beginning for West Germany and led to the "German economic miracle". In 2002, The D-Mark in turn was replaced the Euro (€).
I told my dear old friend from school about this discussion, and she emailed today. This is what she said in her e-mail :
"I too was in the DDR twice with the car. It was horrible ! Extensive controls at the border, endless waiting, endured in silence. We were afraid. We could stay only in specifically assigned hotels and had to pay an enormous sum ahead of time, in western currency One had to suffer the arrogance of the Volks-polizei (Volk policemn) and didn't dare open our mouth lest a wrong answer might land one in jail. Once safely back on West German soil, one breathed easier. I want to forget these dreadful times, and I also don't want to recall the Nazi era either. It was horrendous!"
She did not mention the isa and did not say when these visits took place. I believe it must have been in the mid-fifties. For my part, I am not sure forgetting is as easy as that. Certain things probably should not be forgotten, and some cannot be forgotten. In my case it would be the loss of our home in 1942 in the bombing of a suburb of Mannheim. However, that too is a separate, personal story and does not belong here.
I went to East Germany twice more, once with my husband in the early seventies, and again in 1977 with my children. My daughter was 28 and in graduate school in S.F., my son 15. By then the East German government had "refined" the m.o. of border-crossing with more rules. We were not allowed to carry any West German papers or magazines. The second track had been restored, but checking the papers of every passenger in every compartment took well over an hour, while East German soldiers with German shepherds patrolled on the platform.
We encountered one of those "arrogant" young policemen who peppered my daughter and son with loaded questions. (On the return trip to the West, the train stopped again for an even more thorough control and longer time. Eventually we heard in our carriage muffled voices and the loud wailing of a woman. We waited in anxious silence. When the policeman entered our compartment, his face was a mask. No one would have dared to say anything. He asked whether we were carrying any East German money. Knowing it is forbidden, we had left it with the family. And the first trip was again to the Police Station to sign in, show the visa, pay the price per head, per day, ahead. To sign out with the police was the same.
The lot of the family had visibly improved - they had moved into town and were granted an apartment when one became available at long last. The food supply was not steady. Daily shopping was necessary because only whatever was available would be on the dining table. There were always long queues and shoppers would automatically line up without knowing just what was being offered, or whether there was anything left when one's turn came. My eldest niece became a nurse and was grateful for the uniforms I sent her. Since it was hard to convert the metric measures into inches, the jeans for the boys were not always the right fit, and the same was true for shoes. But conditions have improved beyond anyoe's expectations when the border opened at last.
My friend reminded me that tomorrow, on October 3ed, Germany celebrates The Day of Unity, a national holiday. She added
"So far, a full, complete union has not yet been accomplished." I would like nothing better than visit just once more to see for myself, but alas - my traveling days are over.
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