Thoughts on war: “Youth under Fate” – Biographies of young Germans 1946 to 1949 (Published on 11/04/2024)
I. Literature sources from the war and post-war period
In addition to letters from the war and immediate post-war period, literature sources from the time also provide a vivid impression of what war means for people and what a high price all soldiers and their families have to pay in war – mostly in complete contrast to those who have politically fomented and initiated it. It is of central importance to keep alive the memory of the times of war and its consequences in order to prevent the same mechanisms from being set in motion once again and history from repeating itself with ever more fatal consequences.
On 17/08/1952, standing at the graves of the dead buried in the military cemetery in Hürtgen, the then German Federal President Theodor Heuss formulated the importance of war commemoration in his speech at the opening of this cemetery as follows (translated from German language):
“They were human beings like us. But at these crosses we hear their voices: ‘Take care, you who are still in life, that peace may remain, peace among men, peace among nations.’”
To this end, under the title “Thoughts on War”, excerpts from literature describing war and its consequences for those involved will be reproduced here as a reminder of what war means to man and mankind. To provide food for thought and in the unshakable hope that this may make a difference.
II. “Youth under Fate” – A collection of biographies of young Germans from times of totalitarianism and war
In 1950, Christian Wegner Verlag in Hamburg published “Jugend unterm Schicksal – Lebensberichte junger Deutscher 1946 bis 1949” [“Youth under Fate – Life stories of young Germans 1946 to 1949“], edited by Kurt Haß, a collection of excerpts from biographies submitted by young Germans when they registered for their Abitur in said years. In each case, they describe their individual experiences of the Nazi era, the war and the post-war turmoil and the conclusions they drew for themselves and their future. The result is an impressive documentation of the political and social circumstances of the time from a young person’s perspective, which often reveals more between the lines than the mostly neutral language expresses and which is still worth reading when it comes to resisting the beginnings of totalitarianism and war.
Jürgen St., 21 years old at the time, describes his experiences as follows (from Kurt Haß, Jugend unterm Schicksal – Lebensberichte junger Deutscher 1946 bis 1949 (1950), p. 42 ff. [translation from German language]):
“… At the end of the recruit period, our training course was transferred to Heeres-Unteroffizier-Schule IV [Army NCO School IV] in Tetschen-Bodenbach/Sudetenland. In May 1944, I was transferred back to my former garrison town as a newly qualified non-commissioned officer. Soon afterwards I was sent to the front. At the end of June, I arrived at the command post of the 30th Infantry Division, which was located between Pleskau and Ostrow on the Velikaya, with two other fellow trainees. The first shells howled over our heads, which we instinctively pulled in. This brought a slight smile from the old front-line fighters, who just shook their heads and couldn’t understand that we young lads were already NCOs. And how right they were!
Back home, I was unspeakably embarrassed when I was greeted by an older soldier who had already distinguished himself; but here in the dirt, thank God, it was different. Here, it wasn’t tinsel and well polished boots and breeches that made the difference, but exemplary performance and proving oneself to the enemy. That’s why we were assigned to a private who had been at the front for a long time and often had to go out at night as scouts or shock troops. As we were not yet aware of the danger, we behaved rather recklessly and boldly at first. But the battle didn’t last too long.
On 20 July 1944 – we only found out about the attack on Hitler that evening – the order came shortly before midnight to clear the position section by section. ‘The last convulsions‘, my squad leader said. I didn’t understand him then. The retreat began that day. In the first few days, everything went according to plan, just like at home on the training ground. But as soon as the Russians realized our weak position, they crashed into our main battle line with incredible force. August 10 was the black day for the 30th Division. At 4.30 a.m. a barrage of unprecedented intensity began along the entire line. The earth shook until 5.45 am. Those 75 minutes seemed like an eternity to me. To my left and right I heard desperate cries for help from the wounded, which soon fell silent. In front of me, the Russians were attacking in a broad line with tanks and infantry. Not a shot was fired from our side, yes, was the world still normal?
Without further ado, I jumped out of my cover hole to make contact to the left. Was I dreaming or was I seeing correctly? None of my comrades were to be found. The entire trench was riddled with grenades, and here and there was a fallen soldier. I don’t remember what I was doing at the time, I just remember running like a hunted hare zigzagging through a ripe cornfield, chased by Russians. I think only someone who has experienced something similar can feel how you feel in such a situation. After wandering through a forest for two hours, I came across the first German soldier. My eyes filled with tears of joy. After a brief, unforgettable greeting, we marched on and, as chance would have it, I soon met my company commander, who told me about the end of our company. My two course mates had also been killed in this barrage.
We marched west until late in the evening. Everyone tried to save themselves and wandered haphazardly around the area.
The leadership had lost its head. Artillerymen we spoke to told us about the insane orders to blow up their guns; tank drivers grumbled about the supplies that had hauled forward canisters of clear water instead of petrol; gunners from the Nebelwerfer reported that the ammunition they had received was of different calibers. Reports of misfortune came in hourly, so that some lost their senses and defected at the next opportunity. This situation lasted for a week until a fallback line was established. The Russians, for whom victory had been made too easy during these days, did not take our positions seriously and became reckless. They had to pay for this with the heaviest casualties; but the next morning, August 18, the expected counterattack came in the form of a short, heavy barrage. I was slightly wounded in my left ring finger. As the bone was splintered, I was sent to the Fellin field hospital. After a ten-day stay in three different military hospitals, I reported back to the head of my company on August 29. The company, which still had four men, had been assigned to another one in the meantime.
I led a group during the further withdrawal movements along the Bay of Riga through Riga, Mitau, Goldingen and Schaulen. Gradually the cauldron in Kurland was closed and a desperate battle began. In the weeks that followed, I got to know the war in its most terrible form. Close combat alternated with drumfire, assault with reconnaissance. When I was slightly wounded for the second time on October 29, this time in my right calf, buttocks, chest and right finger, I was glad to be out of the mud for a short time.
After leading the platoon leader’s platoon since November 15 due to his absence, I was ordered to the regimental command post on December 12, where I was awarded the EK I [Iron Cross 1st class], the infantry assault badge in silver and the wounded badge as well as the close combat clasp. At the same time, I was appointed a Fahnenjunker non-commissioned officer and thus completed my frontline probation.
It was never as difficult to say goodbye as it was on 13 December 1944, because I knew that I would never see my comrades again. In Libau, on 14 December, I experienced the enormous material superiority of the Russians for the last time when they attacked the harbor with 300 bombers. But how happy I was when I was allowed to step on German soil again! Until the start of the next course at the war college, I was an instructor with a ROB [reserve officer applicant] company. At the beginning of February I was finally transferred to Kriegsschule I [War College I] in Dresden. On the way there, I saw the indescribable misery of the refugees and inwardly cursed the leadership for letting it come to this instead of having the courage to admit their inferiority. And what was it like at the war college?
National Socialist leadership lessons came first, then order exercises and sports, and the most important thing, tactics, was briefly mentioned in passing. I often thought of the words of my fallen group leader: ‘The last convulsions!’ How right he had been!
According to the Führer’s orders, the sub-leaders for the formation of 3 divisions were to be provided by Kriegsschule I. These divisions were created in Döberitz within eight days and were hurriedly sent to the western front. On April 10, I was deployed with an infantry platoon near Blankenburg (Harz). After ten hard days full of privation, our battalion was disbanded. Together with a comrade, I tried to escape from the Harz basin to the north-east and then make my way to Holstein. But things turned out differently. On April 27, we were both surrounded and plundered by roaming Poles and then taken away by American guards. We experienced Germany’s collapse in a POW camp near Wesel (Rhine). The time that followed was the most shameful of my life. I often felt ashamed of being German when I had to watch husbands exchanging their rings (…) for two cigarettes, or former German soldiers throwing their decorations to one of the many guards in exchange for luxury food, or German men gathering under the watchtowers and languishing for the cigarette stubs of the guards.
I am describing my experience of the war in such detail because it made a lasting impression on me and fundamentally changed my life.
How alienated we boys were from this experience when we left school, and how suddenly disillusioned we were by the rawness, cruelty and violence of modern war! What false concepts of honor and heroism, to name just two of the so-called soldierly virtues, we had been brought up with! For us boys, who had become soldiers from the school bench without a valid school-leaving examination, the sad end of the war brought about the collapse of a world full of false ideals to which we had faithfully and honestly committed ourselves. Now we had to stop mourning what we had lost and fall into a state of doing nothing and waiting, and instead turn resolutely towards a new goal …”
The most powerful means against the repetition of history are remembrance and commemoration.
(Head picture: Memorial bell at Ehrenfriedhof Bischofsgrün,
September 2023)
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