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When we arrived in Reichenberg we were told to go to the officials.

They were sitting behind long tables and had lists of the names of all the refugees and the locations to which they would be sent. All eight of us were sent to Aussig, west of Reichenberg. We were assigned to stay with citizens living in Aussig, where the government had required each home to provide a space for two refugees.

Mutti and I were placed with a family by the name of Kohl, and Mrs. Kohl and her daughter Sigrid were there to meet us when we arrived in Aussig. Oma and Aunt Erna were staying with two elderly sisters just a few doors away from the Kohls’, but it was more difficult for Uncle Hermann, Aunt Dora, and my two cousins to be able to stay together. Finally the problem was worked out and they ended up staying down the street and around the corner from where we were located.

The Kohls’ home was an apartment on the highest level, the third floor, in a long brick building that reached from one street corner to the next. It ran parallel to the Elbe river. On the other side of the river were tree-covered hills, a lovely sight from the Kohls’ windows. When we arrived there on March 21, the trees were covered with new leaves and blossoms. Spring 1945 was in full bloom!

But there was one problem – the Kohls’ home was very small, with a bedroom, a living room, a kitchen and a small bathroom. How could they take in the two of us? They had it all figured out; Mr. and Mrs. Kohl and Sigrid slept in their bedroom and Mutti and I occupied the sofa and a cot in the living room. We ate our meals together; we combined all our rations, which we cooked on a gas range. I had never seen gas supplied by having to drop coins into a meter, but it certainly meant that no gas was ever wasted.

Mr. Kohl was a member of the Nazi Party and worked in the Aussig City Hall. Sigrid, a year younger than I was, attended all Hitler Youth meetings. It was difficult for her to understand why I would not join her, but Mutti had cautioned me not to attempt to explain to her what Dad had taught me about their policies. After all, the Kohls had been kind enough to share their home with us, and furthermore, Mr. Kohl’s sister was one of the top Nazis in Aussig!

Needless to say, no great friendship developed between us. Sigrid was always busy, and since I could not be enrolled in school because our stay in Aussig was considered temporary, I spent most of my time reading and studying on my own. Also, all our family members spent a lot of time together sitting beside the Elbe, enjoying the gorgeous spring weather, and on Sunday afternoons we would take long walks. Since Mr. Kohl was hardly ever at home during the day, Mrs. Kohl and Sigrid sometimes would go walking with us and show us some of the interesting sights around Aussig.

Some nights the air raid siren would go off and we would walk downstairs to the basement, where a shelter had been prepared. Nothing much ever happened; if a bomb did fall in the area, everyone went afterward to look at the damage. Aussig was not acquainted with air raids like those we had survived in Berlin.

While we were sitting behind the Kohls’ building one day, we heard airplanes above us. We looked all around but we did not see them. As the droning became louder and louder, we suddenly saw what looked like hundreds of planes come flying towards us above the hills along the Elbe River. They looked very tiny, and since they were too high for us to identify them and the sirens had not sounded, we thought they must be German planes. It was fascinating to watch them. None of us had ever seen so many planes flying in formation! While we were watching them, the planes began to release small objects, which fell toward the earth. Maybe they were some kind of leaflets? Maybe even some food? After a few seconds they were falling closer to us, and then Uncle Hermann yelled: “Oh my God, they are bombs! Run, run to the shelter!”

As we ran inside the building and down the stairs to the shelter, we heard the sirens sound, and at the same time we could hear and feel the bombs reaching the ground. Every second or two there was an explosion. Tenants were still coming into the shelter. All of us and Mrs. Kohl and Sigrid sat together in a circle holding onto each other. The bombs fell closer and closer; the ground heaved back and forth, up and down, and pieces of bricks and cement fell on us. When an explosion was close, we expected the next bomb to be a direct hit. People around us were crying and screaming in fear, begging God for help. We prayed, but we expected to die. We had found out what blanket bombing was like.

After what seemed like an eternity, the explosions sounded more distant and finally stopped all together. The all-clear signal blasted from the sirens and we looked at each other in disbelief. We were still alive? We all had survived? It certainly was a miracle.

We went outside and saw the damage done to the neighborhood. On both sides of the street, the bombs had leveled parts of the apartment buildings. People were digging through the rubble looking for relatives or friends and neighbors who might still be alive, and everyone immediately went to help. We found some people who were alive, some who were badly hurt, but many dead bodies and parts of bodies.

The bombs had missed all the buildings my family members were using as temporary homes. The buildings where Oma and Aunt Erna as well as Uncle Hermann’s family had been staying were undamaged, but the windows of the Kohls’ apartment had been blown out. This created a lot of damage inside, but after removing all the glass and debris and returning thing to their place, we still had a place to sleep and eat. Mr. Kohl had survived at his office and when he finally came home, we all cried tears of gladness. Even Sigrid and I hugged and wiped each other’s tears.

A few days later we took a walk to the other side of the Elbe. We thought we could get a better view of the bombing’s destruction of Aussig if we climbed up the hill across the river from the Kohls’ building. After a short walk, an elderly gentleman came towards us. He told us we should not go any farther, or we might be forced to help with the cleanup. What cleanup? He explained the hills were strewn with bodies and body parts and their friends and co-workers were collecting them and forming a pile. Uncle Hermann asked him who these people were, and why they had been in the woods instead of a shelter when the bombing took place. The gentleman explained they were all foreigners who had been taken from their homes in the countries Germany occupied. Some were prisoners of war, and they all had been sent here to replace the Germans who had joined the armed forces. These foreigners had been working in factories on the other side of the hill, but no shelter had been provided for them.

I kept thinking about Dad and his Russian friend Josef. They were supposed to be enemies but had become friends. Now here were all these foreign workers killed by bombs dropped from airplanes that were fighting on their side of the war. Is this what war was all about? Hitler said we needed more Lebensraum. For what? So many Germans had now been killed, why would we need more land? And what about Dad? He did not know where we were now and we did not know anything about him.

A few days later we became aware of gunfire to the east of us and within hours we were hearing the same sounds we heard in Weissbach when were ordered to leave. Mr. Kohl brought us news when he came home from work. The Russians were coming closer to us from the east, but the Americans were southwest of us and had occupied Saaz. They had declared the city of Saaz an open city, allowing Germans to enter it before the fighting would begin in Aussig and the surrounding area. Even though Mr. Kohl could not leave because of his job, he was able to persuade Mrs. Kohl that she and Sigrid should go with us and try to get to Saaz. He promised them he would leave Aussig as soon as he could and join them in Saaz. Mutti and I went to Oma and Aunt Erna and then Uncle Hermann, Aunt Dora, Gerhard, and Gunther to bring them the news and make final plans for leaving in the morning. Everyone packed their few belongings and when daylight came, we were on our way to Saaz.

There was no transportation. We had to walk, and despite the early hour, there were many people heading in the same direction as we were. Once we had left the city, we walked through a few small villages and many open fields with just a few trees. When evening came people were sitting and sleeping along the sides of the road, but Uncle Hermann suggested we should keep walking until it was too dark, only then should we stop for the night. Each one of us had been able to bring along two slices of bread, and before we settled down in a field to rest, we all ate one slice. Uncle Hermann made sure we saved the other one for the next day, since it would most likely be the only food we would have.

When daylight came the sounds of war were much closer to us. Lots of vehicles were traveling along the road at tremendous speed heading towards Saaz. Those on foot were forced to stay at the edge of the road and walk in a single file because of the traffic. All the vehicles were German army cars, trucks, and buses. They were full of high-ranking army officers, and not one of them ever glanced at the walking citizens. They just stared straight ahead while fleeing towards Saaz and the Americans as fast as possible.

The day passed and in the evening we once more rested in a field and ate our last pieces of bread. After a few hours’ rest, Uncle Hermann woke us and suggested that we start walking again. We were exhausted, we were hungry, and we did not think we could do it, but we also knew Uncle Hermann was right; we had to keep walking.

By noontime everything had changed. The army vehicles had turned around and were now racing back east. Even though some of the pedestrians yelled questions at them, asking what was happening, there were no answers. Gunfire was coming closer to us from the west, and that gave us some hope. Apparently the Americans had moved on from Saaz; maybe we would not have to walk so far after all.

We were going through a small village when we noticed a fairly large house built totally with field stones. It was a guest house with a dining room and it looked indestructible. We would soon return to it.

Just as we were leaving the village, we saw a small airplane flying very low, almost strafing the ground. We also heard a machine gun being fired, and as heard the bullets hit the ground, we saw little clouds of dirt appear nearby. As the airplane came closer to us, we were walking past a huge wooden barn built on a three-foot-high stone foundation. As dirt flew into the air, the machine gun continued firing, and we ran into the barn and threw ourselves down behind the stone foundation. We all had just made it to safety when the bullets came through the roof, raising clouds of dirt in a straight line a few feet away from us. We listened as the sound of the airplane engine and the machine gun fire became faint, but these noise were immediately replaced by the sound of larger guns. Uncle Hermann said we needed to return to the village and try to get to the guest house we had seen earlier. We ran back toward the village, and we were welcomed by the crowd who had already gathered in the dining room.

Shortly thereafter, tanks were firing guns on the road outside the guest house. They were coming from the west, from the direction of Saaz. Even though we were caught in the middle of a battle, we considered ourselves to be very lucky. We thought we would not have to walk all the way to Saaz; it seemed as if the Americans had advanced from Saaz and had met us before we had to encounter the Russian army from the east. When a tank stopped outside the guest house, Uncle Hermann pulled back a small section of the window cover to see what was happening. He turned around and his face was white; it had no color. And then he said, “They are not the Americans, they are Russian tanks and Russian soldiers.” There was total silence in the dining room. No one wanted to believe Uncle Hermann was right. We had not been able to flee from the Russians. They had caught up with us and now surrounded us.

We spent the next two days and nights inside the dining room of the guest house while the fighting continued outside. We were thankful to be in a solid stone building because bullets were flying all around us. There were not only tanks and trucks passing by our shelter; Russian infantry soldiers were walking along beside them. We were scared. Everyone knew the Russians were not as kind to the Germans as the Americans were. There had been lots of atrocities committed against Russian civilians by the German S.S. troops under German occupation, and many of the Russian troops had decided to retaliate by recreating these horrific crimes on German soil.

On the third day, the soldiers entered each building to make sure there were no German soldiers hiding amongst us. As five Russians came into the dining room, one of them explained to us in German that we had to leave the building because they would be using it. So, we once again collected our few possessions and started walking.

We now had to walk among Russian soldiers and with many refugees who had no home and no shelter. At least we had a destination; we would return to Aussig.

As we traveled, some soldiers handed us some bread as they passed us; some even gave candy to the children. Others stopped us and looked through our belongings and took anything that appealed to them. German soldiers who had not been able to discard their uniforms were shot. Women were being raped a few feet away from the road. We also saw the German trucks and buses that had passed us days earlier. Apparently, the Russian had chased them into the fields. It was an eerie sight to see the vehicles empty and partially destroyed; bodies were strewn in what looked like perfect circles around them. We could not allow ourselves to show any emotions in front of the Russians, but it was very difficult to keep from crying, especially for my two younger cousins, Uncle Hermann’s two sons, who were only ten and eight years old.

Along our journey, we were walking towards an area with large trees beside the road, and as we walked closer, we saw lifeless bodies hanging from the lower branches. We saw Russian soldiers grab Germans out of the walking crowd and pull them towards the trees. Suddenly, screaming, yelling, and crying surrounded us. We noticed two soldiers looking at us and obviously talking about us, so we tried to walk as close together as possible. As they came nearer, I realized that they were looking and pointing at me. I was wearing my ski pants and a white, but now very dirty turtleneck sweater. All females had tried to find pants to wear, hoping that they might discourage rape. But rape was not what the two soldiers had in mind. One of them was carrying a rope with a noose; they grabbed me and pulled me towards the trees while they kept shouting, “S.S., S.S., she is S.S.!”

All my family was crying and trying to hang on to me. They kept saying, “No! No! She is not S.S.; she is only fifteen years old. Please, let her go!” The soldiers continued to drag me towards the trees. Our crying did not stop them, but at that moment we heard whistles. The soldiers dropped whatever they were doing and ran to their trucks, which were slowly moving away.

With the noose around my neck, I fell down to the ground and I cried and cried. I looked up at the bodies hanging above me. I not only continued to cry, I found myself shaking and screaming. How could I keep my promise to my dad to look out for my mom when I was terrified?

After many tears, my family grew quiet. I felt closer than ever to my family, and as we walked toward Aussig, we walked together and with purpose. When we finally reached Aussig, we found that more buildings destroyed, but the Kohls’ residence was still standing. Mrs. Kohl, Sigrid, Mutti and I went up to their apartment while Aunt Erna and Oma and Uncle Hermann and his family went to find the buildings where they had lived.

As we entered the apartment building, we could smell gas, and the odor became stronger as we the climbed the stairs. Apparently someone had inserted coins into the gas meter but did not light the burners. Mrs. Kohl unlocked the door to the apartment, and when she opened it, we knew that the odor was coming from the kitchen. Mrs. Kohl began calling Mr. Kohl’s name, but there was no answer. When we entered the kitchen, we saw Mr. Kohl’s sister, who had been one of the highest-ranking Nazi Party members in Aussig, kneeling in front of the cooking range with her head on a small pillow inside the oven. Mrs. Kohl and Mutti spoke to her, touched her, and then pulled her away from the range. Her lifeless body fell to the floor. Her reward for having been a staunch Nazi supporter was suicide.

We did not know what to do. Where was Mr. Kohl? Surely he would know what should be done with the body. We left the apartment and started looking for him. We asked if anyone had seen him. We got no answers; with all the destruction around the area, we had no idea where to look for him. The place where he had worked was gone.

We did not know what to do. Where was Mr. Kohl? Surely he would know what should be done with the body. We left the apartment and started looking for him. We asked if anyone had seen him. We got no answers; with all the destruction around the area, we had no idea where to look for him. The place where he had worked was gone.

We now had to observe a curfew, which meant we had to be inside by 6 p.m., but before we went home we made a quick stop to see Uncle Hermann. He was glad to see us. A few minutes earlier he had received a notice addressed to all refugees: we had to leave the former Sudetenland by noontime on May 12, 1945, which was the next day. We had no idea the war had ended, that Germany had surrendered four days earlier. We quickly stopped to tell Oma and Aunt Erna that we would have to leave in the morning, but they already knew. They had received their notification a few minutes before we saw them. When we returned to the Kohls’ home, ours was nailed to their front door. All of the Sudetenland had been returned to Czechoslovakia. In the morning, we would have to go to the Aussig train terminal, where we would get on a train that would take us across the border into Germany before noontime.

Mrs. Kohl, Sigrid, Mutti and I felt a sadness I cannot describe. Mutti and I had to leave the two of them without knowing if Mr. Kohl had survived, and we would leave them with a dead body on their kitchen floor, not knowing what could be done with it. We promised to try to contact them if and when life became somewhat normal again.

Early the next morning, Uncle Hermann, Aunt Dora, Gerhard and Gunther, Aunt Erna and Oma, and Mutti and I headed to the train station, where we boarded a freight train with other German refugees. Shortly after we got inside, it started moving very slowly, heading for Germany.