billowed out what was left of a tatty, brown net curtain. A candle and the
silvery moonlight provided the illumination for the soldier to read over again
the letter from his wife.
"Dearest Thomas, I miss you and you can well imagine
how much I long to see you again - for you are no doubt feeling the same
longing for me. If you are not then I shall be very cross and shall want to
know why. At best it seems that any positive news from the Front is constructed
from half-truths.
Things look bleak and I fear the worst. I used to lie in bed
at night and wish for your safe return and for an end to this terrible war but
now I just hope and pray that you will not be posted to Stalingrad. It is a
piece of silly reasoning I know but I tell myself that if I pray for less, be
less selfish, then my prayers might be answered and granted.
Wilhelm, as you can see from the photo enclosed, is fine and
well. From the way he is getting through his rations and shoes he will no doubt
grow as large and strong as his father. Mother says as well that he is
increasingly beginning to look like you, which is a blessing and a curse for
when I gaze upon him sometimes I see you - but then think on your absence and
where you are. I've also enclosed the most recent picture he's done of you.
I am well so do not worry about me. I am trying to keep busy
and still teaching at the school part-time. You'll be pleased to know that all
the children are still devoted to you and constantly ask after "Herr
Abendroth". I have also been tending to the garden of late. All the bulbs
and shrubs we planted when you were last on leave have flowered or are about to
flower. The garden is now awash with colour (bluebells, roses, cowslip, fiery
red pansies, and gleaming marigolds). A few buttercups have also sprung up from
the lawn and, last week, Wilhelm adorably spent a couple of days testing
whether everyone in the village liked butter.
How are you? I'm sorry about the barrage of questions in my
last letter about what the ghetto was like and the Jews. But I can't believe
anything in the news or on the radio anymore. I know I've said it before but
still I can't comprehend how much things have changed. I think I would need the
next ten years to catch-up and understand what has happened over the past
decade - and not just because of the war. Please write soon (although I know
you will). I love you so much. Maria."
As pleased as Thomas was at receiving the letter his eyes
moistened too from sadness. He was a world from his wife and child. His simple
life was over and nothing would ever be the same again Thomas lamented, even if
he went home tomorrow. He took up again the picture enclosed in the letter that
Wilhelm had drawn of his father. ‘Papa’ was no more than a matchstick man with
a big head and lop-sided grin but Thomas could recognise, through the blue
helmet and red rifle, that his son had drawn him as a soldier. The two big
black swastikas which flanked the figure also pained and angered the Corporal.
When he was a boy clouds and the sun or moon had accompanied his pictures. The
sun and stars had now turned into swastikas. His spirits seethed and sank to think
of the poison that they were pouring into his son's ears while he was away.
Again he flirted absurdly with the idea of deserting and trying to get back to
his family and escape over the Swiss border. But he knew the dangers. They
would get to his family first and he couldn't trust putting something in a
letter. If intercepted, it would be as good as a death sentence for them all.
He would just have to endure.
5.
Poland fell in three weeks. David so seldom conquers
Goliath. On the 12th of October 1940, the Day of Atonement, it was announced by
the occupying force that a ghetto – or ‘Jewish residential quarters’ - was to
be established in the old Yiddish district of the capital. 2.4% of the city's
land would house 30% of its population. Non-Jews were moved out, accepting the
incentive of
silvery moonlight provided the illumination for the soldier to read over again
the letter from his wife.
"Dearest Thomas, I miss you and you can well imagine
how much I long to see you again - for you are no doubt feeling the same
longing for me. If you are not then I shall be very cross and shall want to
know why. At best it seems that any positive news from the Front is constructed
from half-truths.
Things look bleak and I fear the worst. I used to lie in bed
at night and wish for your safe return and for an end to this terrible war but
now I just hope and pray that you will not be posted to Stalingrad. It is a
piece of silly reasoning I know but I tell myself that if I pray for less, be
less selfish, then my prayers might be answered and granted.
Wilhelm, as you can see from the photo enclosed, is fine and
well. From the way he is getting through his rations and shoes he will no doubt
grow as large and strong as his father. Mother says as well that he is
increasingly beginning to look like you, which is a blessing and a curse for
when I gaze upon him sometimes I see you - but then think on your absence and
where you are. I've also enclosed the most recent picture he's done of you.
I am well so do not worry about me. I am trying to keep busy
and still teaching at the school part-time. You'll be pleased to know that all
the children are still devoted to you and constantly ask after "Herr
Abendroth". I have also been tending to the garden of late. All the bulbs
and shrubs we planted when you were last on leave have flowered or are about to
flower. The garden is now awash with colour (bluebells, roses, cowslip, fiery
red pansies, and gleaming marigolds). A few buttercups have also sprung up from
the lawn and, last week, Wilhelm adorably spent a couple of days testing
whether everyone in the village liked butter.
How are you? I'm sorry about the barrage of questions in my
last letter about what the ghetto was like and the Jews. But I can't believe
anything in the news or on the radio anymore. I know I've said it before but
still I can't comprehend how much things have changed. I think I would need the
next ten years to catch-up and understand what has happened over the past
decade - and not just because of the war. Please write soon (although I know
you will). I love you so much. Maria."
As pleased as Thomas was at receiving the letter his eyes
moistened too from sadness. He was a world from his wife and child. His simple
life was over and nothing would ever be the same again Thomas lamented, even if
he went home tomorrow. He took up again the picture enclosed in the letter that
Wilhelm had drawn of his father. ‘Papa’ was no more than a matchstick man with
a big head and lop-sided grin but Thomas could recognise, through the blue
helmet and red rifle, that his son had drawn him as a soldier. The two big
black swastikas which flanked the figure also pained and angered the Corporal.
When he was a boy clouds and the sun or moon had accompanied his pictures. The
sun and stars had now turned into swastikas. His spirits seethed and sank to think
of the poison that they were pouring into his son's ears while he was away.
Again he flirted absurdly with the idea of deserting and trying to get back to
his family and escape over the Swiss border. But he knew the dangers. They
would get to his family first and he couldn't trust putting something in a
letter. If intercepted, it would be as good as a death sentence for them all.
He would just have to endure.
5.
Poland fell in three weeks. David so seldom conquers
Goliath. On the 12th of October 1940, the Day of Atonement, it was announced by
the occupying force that a ghetto – or ‘Jewish residential quarters’ - was to
be established in the old Yiddish district of the capital. 2.4% of the city's
land would house 30% of its population. Non-Jews were moved out, accepting the
incentive of
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