Conversation with Pop, July 10 2020:
“I remember when my sister died. She was only three years old. I went to the hospital to visit her, it was my turn, since my mother went the day before and we alternated the 6 mile walk each day. I showed up at the hospital, and the attendants said – “ah, you’re here for Gisele. Well, there she is. Take her”. I had no idea what they were talking about – but they pointed to a body and said – there she is, take her. We can’t do anything with her, she died last night.”
Pop was just fifteen years old. Just. He wrapped her body up in a blanket and carried her home. I have not yet asked him what went through his mind on that long 6 mile walk. I know that he couldn’t face his mother, he placed her body in a hay loft, wrapped her in soft hay, and went to a neighbor for help.
I said to pop: “That must have been a very formative experience for you. Just fifteen years old and all the shit you went through, that must be why you are so not the typical grandfather now”.
“Well, maybe. but think of my mother went through. Her mother had burned to a crisp just 5 months before, now she lost a daughter, and she still had no idea if her husband or other daughter were alive or dead. “
“Pop, I found the picture of you and Gisela. She was such a cute thing – blond curls, and you were such a nerdy looking geek.”
“You should scan that picture up there of Opa and Gisele. It was the only time Opa had ever seen her before she died. That picture was taken on July 20, 1944. I will never forget that date. I was a student and was just out on holiday, so I hopped a train back to Berlin to visit my mother. However, that was the date some people were trying to assassinate Hitler or something, and every two minutes the police would march down the train and shake up our compartments. I was only 14 years old. Americans can’t even send their 14-year-old kids alone on airplanes. Can you imagine what my parents must have been thinking? “
Gisela Bauke, May 12 1943 - September, 1944
Photographs: Top: Walter and Gisela, summer, 1945. Left: Mutti, Dietz, Gisela, Christmas, 1943. Top right: Opa, Gisela, Dietz, July 20, 1944. Bottom right: Gisela, 1944.
Letter from Hali's Mother to his Father, informing him of Gisela's death,
Berlin-Li, October 3, 1945
My beloved Gustel,
After I have already tried twice to send you messages in uncertain ways, I hope that today I will be able to reach you via Curtius. I am very happy to have heard about you from Piedes and H. Curt. Through Mr. Rohring I already found out in August that you were with the Americans and was therefore reassured. I don't know what you're doing there. But think that you will try over there to get some job. Here it looks bad for you because you were Pg. Most of them have to do so-called penal work hour for 72 pfennigs and get the lowest ration. You should starve or get sick as much as possible. And officers are most hated by the Russians as war criminals. I am now looking forward to a message from you. I just sit with Piedes and use some free time for these lines.
I'm still very depressed by a very, very sad event. The day before yesterday we buried our lovely Gieselchen in the Schoenermark cemetery. At first she had diarrhea only, around the end of July. She got better then, but there was a relapse and the child was very miserable as a result. Then she developed sores in her face, first on her mouth, then on her forehead, eyes and nose. It was probably meningitis, it said on the death certificate. In the end she was without any sensation of pain. Her brain was no longer working properly and it was feared that if it were restored, what would have been left behind. So it is a relief that my little darling was allowed to fall asleep so gently, but for me it is terrible. The little girl was so particularly cute, nimble, talkative and eager - I just enjoyed her.
Most recently, she was 4 weeks in a secondary department of the Western Sanatorium in Wentow near Gransee, in very good hands and looked after, with good doctors, Dr. Kute and Prof. Petersen. It wouldn’t have helped if I brought her there earlier, the disease was unstoppable. Sister Anneliese said that it was tuberculosis and that had brought about a secondary outbreak. For me it is terrible. The little one was so cute and my only joy. I cannot believe that she will never walk around and chat.
Now further: My mother died in flames during the fighting in Muncheberg. We had to flee artillery fire, only with a stroller and backpack. The packed suitcases all had to be left behind, because at the last moment the handcart broke. I was able to take only what I had with me. In Muncheberg the apartment was completely burned out and everything in the basement that we had hidden was stolen.
In Berlin, the Russians also plundered everything that the children had dragged to the basement. You can still find your summer suit and shoes, and your old black winter coat that hung in the girl's closet all the time. Only the straw case with a few things, unfortunately not very much, is still at Fraulein Nachtweide’s in Neue Kantstr 9. Nothing has been taken from them. In Lichterfelde, the Poles and Russians also looted almost everything from us. And the business burned out in the fighting. This is how the situation looks for us in brief.
I myself was not bothered by the Russians, but one day 7 men stole everything that was valuable out of my room from my handbag - part of my jewelry, fountain pen and the album with your pictures. Else also had a lot stolen, but she still had enough time to bury some stuff and you couldn't find it. She also had sent a lot to Fritz in Holstein. She still whines enough about the loss. What should we say where almost everything is gone? I always thought that losing the things I had at least bought the life of you and the children. But now also the little one, that's really too much at once. And all this without you, dearest, and also without a message from our Irmel.
Many people are now coming over to American zone secretly. But it is better for you, you should stay where you are. Things are very bad for officers here, and the other burdens on you, it would be very difficult to find a job here. The main needs are crafts and construction workers, otherwise people are shoveling, carrying stones and the like, for 72 pf / hour. Rosenau and Martin also work that way. The salaries should all be very low. Franz said something of 1/5 of the previous salary. Everything becomes more expensive and it remains dearer on the black market.
We are still in Schoenemark. The food is quite plentiful, but we are still somewhat lean and have at least wood for the winter through the forest and do not need to freeze. If it were a little better in Berlin, I would move there straight away. I have more chances of finding a job there, because I still have to think about what to earn. I've lived cheaply so far, so the money will last even longer, but I can't wait until it's all out. There is still no cardboard on the wooden roof, otherwise I would have prepared 1 room in Hulle’s apartment. Ms. Hulle is with Marlies in Bavaria, he is in captivity there with Keitel. Nobody knows about Westphals. Well, she'll probably be with her brother in Holstein. Franz M wrote to you himself. He can't get over the fact that Achim fell, he is also quite rickety.
Erica has a great job as a waitress in the barracks opposite, with great food, which is the main thing now. At least that's how they are doing in this respect. She only lives in the master room, the other part of the house is not yet habitable.
I want to close the letter right away, for Herr Curtius to take this to you. Hopefully he'll reach you soon. When I find more peace of mind, I'll write to you again. Letters cannot be sent to us at the moment, but can be picked up by Herr Curtius.
I am longing for personal message from you, dearest. Hugs and kisses and greetings to the whole house Curtius.
Your Lotte
(Letter translated by Char Duffy using Google Translate)