My War Service Part5

Entertainment
ENSA (the Forces Entertainment Unit) and the Army Film Unit gave occasional performances but were not easily accessible for our small, outlying unit. Weekly dances were arranged in a local pub which had a dance hall and there was a good variety theatre in the town. My personal break from work was an almost weekly walk across fields to the palace of Herrenhausen, the seat of the kings of Hanover. This had beautiful gardens and a suitable big hall for the performance of operas and operettas. I saw some wonderful performances there; some of the singers reached international fame, e.g. Maria Cebotari.
A Journey to France
Shortly after my return to Hanover I received a letter from my former landlady, enclosing a letter with a French postmark. I immediately recognized the handwriting of my cousin Gretel (Weinberg) and I was overwhelmed with joy. I had given her up as another victim of the Nazi horror, knowing how eagerly the treacherous Vichy government had done the bidding of its German masters.
I took the opportunity to visit her and her husband Henry when my leave fell due in the summer of 1946. They were living in a tiny village , Billom near Clermont-Ferrand.
The train journey was an adventure on its own. German trains were vastly overcrowded but troops had places reserved in special carriages. It took about 12 hours to get as far as Brussels. I managed to sleep by clambering into a luggage rack. Arriving in Brussels in a dishevelled state I treated myself to a wash and shave at the station. I had never had a shave by a professional nor would I want to repeat it; although no doubt excellently done it was the closest shave I had ever had and my face felt sore for days.
The train to Paris arrived too late for a suitable connection to Clermont- Ferrand so I stayed in a modest hotel near the Gare de Lyon. My uniform helped greatly to ease my stay. Travel was free and the food was quite excellent after the deprivations of war-time Britain and basic army “grub”. My school French was adequate to get me by.
The journey to Clermont- Ferrand was much more comfortable;then to Billom via a branch line in a carriage which I thought prehistoric. Seats along the sides and a stove in the middle. Being in uniform Henri had no difficulty in identifying me. They lived in the tower of a former convent — very picturesque. Henri was teaching at a military school for sons of regular soldiers.
A brief account of their escape from the Vichy police and the Nazi death camps:. Gretel lived in Strasbourg in order to lead a normal life away from the Nazi terror. She worked for a supplier of bed-feathers and fabrics to her father( my uncle Markus). There she met Henri Aptekmann (later Arvon) in a hostel for young German Jews. He had fled in time to avoid arrest, being known as an ardent communist in his home town Bayreuth.
At the outbreak of war he joined the French army but Gretel was interned as an enemy. French camps were unpleasant, primitive places. On the other hand, Henri was made a French citizen on joining the army. So he married her and she was released.
France had always been assiduous in looking after the army and Henri received a stipend to study at Clermont-Ferrand university after his discharge when France fell. His subjects were Sanskrit and German.
After the Allied landing in N.Africa Vichy France was occupied by the Germans and soon a regular round-up took place, aided by the French police. When Henri saw a line of people being examined at a university entrance he turned, collected Gretel and both fled into the surrounding country where they found work on farms. Henri’s French was fluent and Gretel’s German accent was attributed to her Alsatian origin. Thus they survived despite hard work in fields, inadequate food and constant fear of betrayal- which ruined their health.
When the Germans had left he was able to work as a teacher.. Cécile was born in 1945.
I arrived with some baby clothes, bought in a NAFFI store ( the supplier of a variety of retail goods and canteens to members of the forces) .
On my return to Hanover I took a few days to see something of Paris.

A Visit to my Place of Birth
Around November 1946 I was asked to travel to a factory in Wiesbaden which was located in the US Zone of occupation to arrange for a large number of pistons for Jeeps to be manufactured by the only functioning manufacturer capable of the work.. Special arrangements had to be made between the relevant HQs to allow for my visit.
It was a very long drive from Hanover and a break in the journey was essential, especially as heavy snow started to fall. I, therefore took the opportunity by making an overnight stop in Alsfeld (upper Hesse), the town of my birth and childhood..
On the autobahn near Kassel we experienced engine trouble in my Volkswagen but my fine Glaswegian driver managed to fix it in freezing conditions.
In Alsfeld I located the US army administrator to whom I explained my business (with documentation). He was very welcoming and offered accommodation (and food ) in their mess.
Ironically, he had taken over the former synagogue which had been destroyed internally during the pogroms of November 1938 and rebuilt for office use.
He wanted to know wether there were wild boar in the area, and. who I knew as big Nazis. To his first question I had to give him a disappointing answer. He listed a number whose names of local Nazis to which I could not add any. On the other hand his list contained the name of one of my former form mistresses and I protested that she had always behaved correctly to me and other Jewish pupils. Her name then was taken off. The trouble was that party membership NSDAP or affiliated NS organizations was sufficient to make someone a Nazi when in fact it would have been impossible for a teacher (or anyone in public service) to continue in the job without some such nominal affiliation.
During the next day I called on the family Schadt who had lived in our house all my life (and before) on the top floor. I had prepared for this visit by taking along food items from the NAFFI which I knew to be scarce, like coffee, chocolate and any preserves.
When they opened the door to their flat and saw this apparition in uniform they were completely overcome. Old Mrs Schadt wept uncontrollably when she heard of the fate of my parents and grandmother and aunt Cilly. She had known all of them since 1914.
I then heard that Willy, a teacher of English and French at the local High School, had been suspended by the German de-nazification tribunal because he had belonged to the SA. The next day I went with Willi Schadt. to the tribunal and made a deposition in his favour. (He was re-instated within a month - see separate note on this event)
I also made an application for the return of our house. (In the end this did not succeed because the owner was considered to have acquired it legally but was ordered to pay another 50% of the purchase price because of the policy of the bandit regime to greatly lower the agreed price and pocket the difference). The new owner had not been a Nazi and had always behaved correctly. In any case a legal fight was beyond my resources.

The Winter of 1946/7
My discharge from the army had been due in July 1946 but at the urging of my C.O. I delayed the discharge for 6 months. I was offered an immediate commission if I signed on for a further year or more. However, I did not want to make the army my career . At the time, I had been proposed for an OBE by my CO but this did not go through because of my nominal nationality status. Instead I received a Certificate for “Outstanding Service” by the GOC of the Rhine Army, Lt.General McCreery.
Conditions in Germany, especially in the cities continued to deteriorate. Food was scarce and the winter had started early. I felt very sorry for the children. I started to carry sweets in my greatcoat pockets and handed them out at appropriate occasions. Fuel was very short although the coalmines were working at full stretch. The Control Commission gave priority to repair and maintenance of the mines, hence my indirect involvement relating to ball bearing manufacture as described earlier.
I was glad to leave Germany in the bitter winter month of January 1947.
Back to ‘Civvy’ Street.

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