Read Online The City in Flames by Elisabeth von Berrinberg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elisabeth von Berrinberg
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come! American tanks surrounded Würzburg. Only hours from now we would know our fate. Would it change for the better or for worse?
Even though it was clear that every effort to hold off the Allies was a lost cause and a waste of human lives, there were still some stubborn Nazis who thought they could save Würzburg, or Germany, or whatever was left.
Boom, boom! The cannons echoed through the dusky sky. We ran for the dungeon, our shelter in the ground.
“Will they find us, Papa?” I asked.
“We are not hiding from them,” my father explained. “Only from their bullets.”
It was dark outside now. The wind shifted directions, and the thunder of guns grew fainter. Between short intervals of silence we could hear the rebellious growl of our empty stomachs. We wondered if it was safe to go back to the cabin.
The moon, high in the midnight sky, hid behind clouds chased by the chilling April wind. Occasionally its light reached the earth around us, but another cloud soon drifted over its path and left us in darkness again.
“Now,” my father whispered when another cloud enveloped the moon.
Hastily we crawled out of the narrow shelter opening.
“Keep down,” my father cautioned. We crawled back to the cabin on our hands and knees.
The guns subsided. The sudden quiet was eerie. What was happening in the city? Had the Allies left? Advanced toward the east? Fatigue and hunger won over our fears, and after a meager meal of stale bread and uncooked oatmeal stirred into water, we fell asleep.
The thunder of heavy artillery woke us at dawn. The windows shuddered, and the cabin rattled suspiciously with shockwaves in the air. Our cabin was in the midst of the battlefield.
It was impossible to go back to the shelter in the opposite corner of the garden.
Boom, boom! Boom, boom! The cannons shouted. Our dishes fell from the cupboard and crashed into pieces around us. My father opened the door to grab an ax. Black smoke rose to the sky from behind the forest. Speedily my father chopped out some floorboards, enough to make an opening for us to climb beneath them.
The earth was cold and moist. As we descended to the floor below, a strong smell of mold greeted us. The space between the floor and the ground was, at most, an arm’s length. Barely enough to be comfortable. We covered the ground with our blankets, and then it was almost cozy. Then my father thought it would be safer for us to lie on our stomachs. And we couldn’t forget our helmets. By “helmets” I mean our entire stock of pots and pans, three in total. One short, we improvised even more. So what did my father wear? A colander that already had about three hundred holes. It was a funny sight, and in spite of our dangerous situation we had to laugh at ourselves. But at heart, we were scared to death. The field mice were scared, too, and they joined us under the floor – much to our dismay.
“I am thirsty, Mama!” I said.
“I am hungry!” my sister joined in.
We knew there was nothing left to eat in the cabin. But talking, we thought, made the time go by faster. The time passed, but ever so slowly. Then all became quiet.
My father lifted a floorboard. “It must be dark outside by now,” he said as he looked into the cabin. The moon had spread its beam over the ghostly land, but the cabin was dark. “Where are they?” my father wondered as he scanned the fields through the space between the curtains. Stiff and cold, the rest of us emerged from our confinement.
“I am hungry!” I cried. The hunger pains became stronger, making me dizzy when I tried to stand. An entire day passed. We hadn’t eaten anything in nearly twenty-four hours.
“I wish I was Flora,” my sister grumbled. “At least then I could stuff myself on mice!”
“I have an idea,” my father interrupted. Willingly we listened to his suggestion. “Remember now,” he warned us, “keep down at all times.”
Like snakes we slithered through the damp grass to cross a muddy bed
Even though it was clear that every effort to hold off the Allies was a lost cause and a waste of human lives, there were still some stubborn Nazis who thought they could save Würzburg, or Germany, or whatever was left.
Boom, boom! The cannons echoed through the dusky sky. We ran for the dungeon, our shelter in the ground.
“Will they find us, Papa?” I asked.
“We are not hiding from them,” my father explained. “Only from their bullets.”
It was dark outside now. The wind shifted directions, and the thunder of guns grew fainter. Between short intervals of silence we could hear the rebellious growl of our empty stomachs. We wondered if it was safe to go back to the cabin.
The moon, high in the midnight sky, hid behind clouds chased by the chilling April wind. Occasionally its light reached the earth around us, but another cloud soon drifted over its path and left us in darkness again.
“Now,” my father whispered when another cloud enveloped the moon.
Hastily we crawled out of the narrow shelter opening.
“Keep down,” my father cautioned. We crawled back to the cabin on our hands and knees.
The guns subsided. The sudden quiet was eerie. What was happening in the city? Had the Allies left? Advanced toward the east? Fatigue and hunger won over our fears, and after a meager meal of stale bread and uncooked oatmeal stirred into water, we fell asleep.
The thunder of heavy artillery woke us at dawn. The windows shuddered, and the cabin rattled suspiciously with shockwaves in the air. Our cabin was in the midst of the battlefield.
It was impossible to go back to the shelter in the opposite corner of the garden.
Boom, boom! Boom, boom! The cannons shouted. Our dishes fell from the cupboard and crashed into pieces around us. My father opened the door to grab an ax. Black smoke rose to the sky from behind the forest. Speedily my father chopped out some floorboards, enough to make an opening for us to climb beneath them.
The earth was cold and moist. As we descended to the floor below, a strong smell of mold greeted us. The space between the floor and the ground was, at most, an arm’s length. Barely enough to be comfortable. We covered the ground with our blankets, and then it was almost cozy. Then my father thought it would be safer for us to lie on our stomachs. And we couldn’t forget our helmets. By “helmets” I mean our entire stock of pots and pans, three in total. One short, we improvised even more. So what did my father wear? A colander that already had about three hundred holes. It was a funny sight, and in spite of our dangerous situation we had to laugh at ourselves. But at heart, we were scared to death. The field mice were scared, too, and they joined us under the floor – much to our dismay.
“I am thirsty, Mama!” I said.
“I am hungry!” my sister joined in.
We knew there was nothing left to eat in the cabin. But talking, we thought, made the time go by faster. The time passed, but ever so slowly. Then all became quiet.
My father lifted a floorboard. “It must be dark outside by now,” he said as he looked into the cabin. The moon had spread its beam over the ghostly land, but the cabin was dark. “Where are they?” my father wondered as he scanned the fields through the space between the curtains. Stiff and cold, the rest of us emerged from our confinement.
“I am hungry!” I cried. The hunger pains became stronger, making me dizzy when I tried to stand. An entire day passed. We hadn’t eaten anything in nearly twenty-four hours.
“I wish I was Flora,” my sister grumbled. “At least then I could stuff myself on mice!”
“I have an idea,” my father interrupted. Willingly we listened to his suggestion. “Remember now,” he warned us, “keep down at all times.”
Like snakes we slithered through the damp grass to cross a muddy bed
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