food for my children.

          On a cold, winter morning in 1945, three American soldiers knocked on doors in the city of Fürth. This had become routine for them. They searched homes on an almost daily basis, looking for Nazi soldiers. Just six months before, Adolph Hitler had committed suicide and Admiral Karl Dönitz, the new German president, called for all members of the Nazi army to surrender (Historic UK). The war had ended, but it was still a time of worldwide chaos.

            As they approached the front door of a small apartment, they did not realize they were being watched. Peering from the window were five small children who were frightened by the strangers approaching. The children examined the three uniformed men making mental notes of how clean they looked and that their uniforms were neatly pressed. It was a striking contrast to their tattered clothes that were quickly becoming too small. The soldiers looked strong and well fed. The children were thin and hungry. Of the three soldiers, two were white and one was African American.

            The soldiers knocked on the door and the children scattered. Their curiosity was overcome by  fear. They were scared by the presence of strangers and terrified of one in particular. They ran down to the cellar and closed the door tight. This had been their hiding place for as long as they could remember. Emil, the oldest brother, made sure his brother and sisters were safely hidden before he climbed the stairs and put his ear to the door, listening to what was happening upstairs.         

            Hitler’s propaganda had spread throughout Germany for years by this time. The ideas taught by Hitler’s Youth were filling the classrooms and the minds of the youngest German. From the time that children started school, they were reared to be “race-conscious, obedient, self-sacrificing Germans who would be willing to die for Führer and Fatherland” (USHMM). Children were taught never to question authority and to accept everything. These five children were no different. This was the first time they had ever seen a person of color. Their schoolteachers had filled their heads with lies, the biggest one being that all black people only lived in Africa and that they were cannibals. Is it any wonder why they were terrified?

            Their mother, Frieda, was a good hearted, intelligent woman who was not easily swayed by the propaganda that had surrounded their lives for many years. She was strong and had been raising her children alone for the last year. Her husband, Hans - a talented mechanic in the German air force - had been on a flight that was forced down by the Americans. She did not know whether her husband was alive or dead, but she lived each day with the hope that he would return. This hope kept her strong for her children. She kindly welcomed the soldiers into her home.

             The Americans ask how many people live in the apartment.  They tell Frieda that they need to look around. “My children are in the cellar”, she tells the GI’s. “They are scared.”  She calls to her children and coaxes them out of hiding. The children obey their mother. The girls cling to their mother’s legs as the three men search the apartment.  One stands at the front door with his rifle drawn, while the other two go through the house. They find no one.

            The soldiers prepared to leave, satisfied that no one is hiding in the home. They smiled kindly and thanked Frieda for her cooperation. Boldness comes up inside Frieda and she asks, “Do you have any food for my children?”  Without hesitation, the African American soldier reached into the nap sack on his shoulder and pulled out a candy bar. Frieda unwrapped the bar immediately and broke the chocolate into pieces for her children. It was their first taste of chocolate and the only meal that they had eaten in days. The children’s eyes were big and they ate the chocolate with gratitude and fervor. Frieda was happy. It did her heart good to see her children eat. The soldiers smiled at the children and turned to leave. Although the days ahead would be hard, the kindness from the soldiers and the gift of chocolate represented a sweet future for this family.

            I happen to know that Frieda’s family went on to do great things. How do I know this?  I am Frieda’s granddaughter. My mom was one of those tiny girls clinging to her mother’s legs. She grew up to become a brave young woman who moved to the United States at just eighteen years old. It is clear to me that my family was guided and protected through this very dark time in history. To this day, whenever my mother shares a piece of chocolate with one of my sons, she tells them of her first taste of a chocolate bar and her first taste of American kindness (Downs).

 

 

Works Cited:

1.  Downs, Irmgard K. Personal Interview. 17 September 2012
2.  "Indoctrinating Youth." United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. United States Holocaust  Memorial Museum, 11 May 2012. Web. 19 Sept. 2012.

3.   "World War 2 Timeline - 1945." Historic UK. Historic UK, 2012. Web. 19 Sept. 2012.