This is the memoir of and letters to a young man who came of age in post WWII Berlin. Two weeks shy of turning 15 when the War ended, Walter Ernst Bauke, known as Hali to some and Pop to me, faced five years of struggle to find food, heat, family, education, trade craft and work. He was imprisoned, beaten unconscious, shot at, forced labor for Russian soldiers, and fled for his life several times. He had no money, his parents had nothing left to give him. But through family connections and a tenacious spirit, he found a way to get out of East Berlin and get a trade education. Then, as a 20-year-old student in West Berlin, his education was shut down for a few months when he was imprisoned for being a British spy. When released, he worked his apprenticeship during the Blockade, building his own battery contraptions for electricity and selling cigarettes on the black market to have food, light and rent. Walter was never defeated. He learned languages. He hitchhiked through Europe and made many friends. He learned self-reliance. He learned that family and relationships matter more than money. He learned that anything is possible, if one makes it so.
Walter emigrated to Canada in 1955, where he met and married my mother. During my entire life, Pop told me stories of his youth, but who listens to their dad? It wasn’t until recently that I discovered his letters, letters from this post war period that he held on to throughout the ensuing 60 years. Raising a family of 6 kids, moves from Toronto to Vancouver to Boston to Los Alamos to Texas to Florida, houses fires and bankruptcies, throughout all these decades, he held on to his letters - from his parents, his siblings, his school friends, his girlfriends. These letters have put into perspective for me that the stories he told me weren’t just stories. They were the very core experiences that shaped the man he was to become, the man he is today. He is stubborn. He is opinionated. He has no patience for anyone who gives up or seeks handouts, but he is intensely loyal to those less fortunate than he is. He had to be, to survive.
This blog is dedicated to Hali's mother, Charlotte Kromat Bauke.
Pop and me, July 2020