German girls had to do a spell of twelve months in the Labour Service during their three years in the BDM, between eighteen and twenty-one years of age. They usually spent the year on farms, helping in the house and the fields.
My sister, Erika, did her Labour Service in Austria while I was still in Haubinda. She worked on a farm in the beautiful Tyrolean valley of the river Stubai and was very happy there. Since then, Erika’s life had not been without its hazards. After attending an interpreter’s school in Leipzig, she was called up for service in an important naval communication centre in Wilhelmshaven. This city was a major warship base and was repeatedly hit by Allied air-raids. When the town was badly destroyed in 1943, the communication centre moved to the inland town of Hildesheim, south of Hannover. Then Hildesheim itself was levelled by air-strikes in 1944, so Erika’s unit moved to the town of Werdau, not far from the northern border of Bohemia. Here, at last, she was out of danger.
In my labour camp we had to work as lumberjacks in the vast coniferous woods around us. Although I spent less than three months in the RAD, I remember it as a very satisfying period in my life. Working or marching, it was all healthy exercise in beautiful surroundings where the snow lay heavy on the ground and on the trees. It never seemed to rain and my memories are of blue skies and the sun bathing the landscape in brilliant light. The purity of the air is something else I vividly remember, especially after the pollution around the FLAK battery.
I got on well with the others in the hut and we had a relaxed relationship with the NCOs. Strict discipline was maintained in the camp, but there was nothing autocratic about it.
In the weeks ahead I acquired an important skill, which was to serve me well in the army and also in later life. I was taught how to lift and carry heavy loads safely and efficiently. Shifting weighty logs on my own and long tree-trunks in a gang of men, sometimes over a considerable distance, became routine as my technique improved.
When working in the woods, we became so much part of the scenery that animals accepted our presence fearlessly. Families of wild boar or deer would often amble past, sometimes just fifteen yards away.
Every day we did marching exercises similar to those done by regular army recruits, with one important difference; we did not train with rifles. All drill exercises were carried out with spades which meant that, though the manipulation had to be slightly different, the same effect was achieved. Going through the exercises in brilliant sunshine on the parade ground actually looked far more striking than if we had been using rifles. The flash of light reflected from hundreds of polished spade heads as they were smartly swung, or angled, in perfect unison was most spectacular.
The spade used in the RAD was just a standard digging implement. What made ours different was the care it was given. Only a person, who has gone through this knows how much painstaking work is necessary to prepare a spade that must pass a sergeant-major’s eagle eye. I remember often being pulled up, even when I honestly knew that I had covered every square millimetre of mine and brought it to the condition of a highly polished jewel.
One of the first things I did after joining the RAD was to apply to join the elite Paratroop and Tank Division Hermann Göring, which was looking for volunteers. I was in no way motivated to becoming a soldier and must admit that, if the choice had been mine, I would have remained a civilian throughout the war. The whole idea of my going to Germany had been to continue my education there and not to get my head blown off fighting for Hitler. As it was, I knew that I would be conscripted in three months time and there were two important reasons for having a say in the matter:
Firstly, it was known that many young men were currently being drafted into the Waffen SS (the military arm of the political SS) and that certain SS units were called on to commit acts of questionable legality. I reasoned that if the Division Göring had already accepted me, I could not be drafted into the Waffen SS.
Secondly, if I had to be a soldier, I wanted to have the best possible training, and this I would get in an elite division. Although the primary motive for my wish must have been self-preservation, I also felt that I was too valuable to be sent into a trench with scant training, and for the sole purpose of pulling a trigger. Besides, my father had been an officer in the renowned Austrian Kaiserjäger (Mountain Troops) in World War I and I think that I may have been also motivated by sub-conscious ambition.
I had been in the camp for only a week when I made a discovery that was to transform my existence there. One day, I got into conversation with two RAD men from another hut that had an exceptional interest in the humanities. They were twin brothers, Heinz and Günther Heinelt, from the town of Greifswald on the Baltic Coast. In contrast to their six-footer frames, they were soft-spoken and of a gentle disposition.
Both were very keen violin players and, when they heard that I had played the violin for many years, they suggested that we get together in our free time to make music. None of us had an instrument with us, but that turned out to be no problem. When we approached our senior officers for permission to bring forward our first short leave to the end of the following week, and gave the explanation, permission was immediately granted. One reason for this cooperation was that an officer called Jablonski, who was an enthusiastic trumpet player, wanted to join our group.
I picked up my violin in Mücheln and Heinz Heinelt fetched the twins’ violins in Greifswald – then practising began in earnest. Jablonski had meanwhile managed to get sheet music, which cannot have been easy. We were only interested in serious music and suitable scoring for our combination would have been unusual. Jablonski turned out to be an eager musician and used to get quite carried away. What his playing lacked in accuracy, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. On a number of occasions I had to laud our trumpeter’s sense of priorities when he got the twins and me excused from our duties so that we could play the music of Mozart, Bach or Haydn.
Leading a healthy life, having good friends and playing music all gave me great satisfaction, especially since there was not an excessive amount of military drill. The food seemed to be especially good – certainly much better than it had been in the FLAK battery.
One day I got word that I was to go to Danzig and attend an interview for the Division Göring. When I reported to the recruiting centre, I was given a thorough medical examination and then was asked the usual questions about illnesses in my family. After that there was an oral test, which included some simple maths and questions obviously intended to establish my IQ. The whole matter took about half-an-hour, but I unfortunately did not have time to explore the historic Hanse town so well-known for its beautiful old buildings.
I had been back from Danzig only a few days when a serious epidemic of diphtheria broke out. Many of us went down with a severe infection and the small sick ward was crowded. All leave was cancelled and we had to remain in quarantine for three weeks before the camp was finally given a clean bill of health. Sadly, one of the men died and it was touch and go with several others. I remember visiting the man not long before his death, to chat and try to take his mind off his suffering. Standing well away from him, I was shocked to see his throat, as if ready to burst, ballooning beyond his chin with a bluish transparency – already he must have been near to asphyxiation.
Life in the camp gradually returned to normal. Luckily, the Heinelts and Jablonski escaped infection and our music-making continued uninterrupted. The twins and I often walked in the woods during our free time, talking about life and our families. Heinz and Günther loved to quote from the writings of Goethe and Schiller. They were romantics at heart and seemed to come under a spell as they recited, walking slowly, their minds occupied on a higher plane.