A Gnostic Childhood
Part XI
Berlin 1952-53

 My years at the 'Hertzberg Schule' were gradually coming to an end as I had almost finished the sixth grade there with Herrn Schwartz, our teacher for two years, and with all the kids which I knew so well and felt comfortable with.
Most of these boys had been with me through all six grades which made it particularly difficult to envision myself in a new school and with new kids.
 My grades weren't very good, but not that bad either.
We were required to choose a school branch (Zweig) to go to, which 'suited' our academic achievements and possibilities according to Herrn Schwartz's judgment and our general school-records.
 
 Our choice was between three branches (Zweigen):
The 'Wissenschaftliche Zweig,' for which one needed high academic achievements and which was preparatory for College or University attendance.
-The 'Technischer Zweig,' which was designed to be an in-between, leading to an apprenticeship in a technical field.
-And the 'Praktischer Zweig,' which my mother called the 'Pantoffel Schule,' which meant something like 'slipper-school' indicating that it was for slow and lazy kids who would eventually find apprenticeship as plumbers, bakers, butchers or whatever.

     

Our last class-picture with Herrn Schwartz taken in the winter of 1952
I am in the third row from front on the left

 My grades and 'achievements,' according to Herrn Schwartz and my school records, were indicating that I should barely attend the 'Technical Zweig.'
 Herr Schwartz and even I myself had some misgivings about that, because my math grades were abysmal and I hated math more than any other subject and had thus little faith in myself to be able to handle the intense math of the 'Technical Zweig.'

 Actually I was quite comfortable with the prospect of attending the 'Pantoffel Schule'.
Having no desire to pursue any conventional path of employment and income, I really thought that I would be much better off in the 'Practical Zweig,' where I could follow my own pursuits as a future inventor or writer without much interference from teachers, home-work and whatever else the 'Technical Zweig' might demand of me.
But my mother was dead-set against it and persuaded Herrn Schwartz to sign me up for the Technical Zweig. 

 Thus in April 1953 I went on my way to the new school, shaking internally from fear and apprehension.
It is quite telling how I felt about that school since I can't remember the name of it.
 My old friend Joachim Bandmann was also assigned to this school and we met on the street and walked there together.
Of course Joachim was much better suited for this school than I, being very good in math and every other subject except art. He was cool, rational and obedient to a fault and I just knew that he would excel there.
We were even lucky in being assigned to the same class-room and teacher, who was a young woman with glasses who looked like a nun. 

             
    
My new seventh grade class in 1953 with my new teacher Fraulein Krueger.
I am sitting with white shirt and "Lederhosen" almost in center

 This was also the first time that boys and girls weren't segregated but together in the same room, which made me feel self-conscious, awkward and even more afraid of making a fool out of myself than usual.
It wasn't a good start for me at all, in the seventh grade, and I felt like I had just arrived in hell.
 In order to not appear stupid and lazy, I even studied and did my home-work as told.
Perhaps everything would have turned out well after all, if my mother had not applied to some agency, to send me to camp at the Baltic Sea, because she thought it might improve my self-reliance and mental as well as physical health.
 Thinking that this would occur during our summer vacation she was very upset when the news arrived in the mail, that I had been selected to go to the 'Kinderheim Lensterhof' near Groemitz by the Baltic Sea for six weeks and that we would be leaving during the last week of May.
 School vacation wouldn't start until the middle of July.
Of course I was happy to hear that because it would get me out of school and studying, things for which I had absolutely no use whatsoever. 

                
Kinderheim (Children's Home) Lensterhof

I was half excited and half apprehensive when, on a cool May morning, my mother took me and a suitcase full of prescribed clothes, to the Bahnhof-Zoo area where the bus which was to take us to Groemitz would be.

 When we got there, by city bus, we saw a large group of kids and their parents, mostly mothers, waiting.
 With some relief I recognized some friends from school there also and my apprehension disappeared to give way to an exciting feeling of adventurous anticipation.

 After a short wait the bus appeared and we, after saying an embarrassed and hurried 'Auf Wiedersehen,' boarded the bus.
 We had a friendly, jolly driver and some other adults as 'Begleiter,' to make sure we wouldn't get into any trouble or rowdy behavior.

 The bus went first to the 'Autobahn,' which was close by and then north to the Soviet and East-German check-point 'Helmstaedt.'
 I can't remember how long it actually took to get there, driving through dismal looking farm areas of the East-Berlin suburbs.
 Helmstaedt was the check-point which would let us enter the corridor going through the East-German 'Zone' which was otherwise closed to 'Westerners.' 

 Arriving finally in Helmstaedt, we saw what looked like an army camp with bob-wire fences and lots of signs of instructions and even more Communist propaganda posters with red as well as official East German flags. Volkspolizei and 'Volksarmee' soldiers (East German army) and Russian soldiers were everywhere carrying machine-guns and some of them even walking large German-Sheppard dogs.
We were scared and panic-stricken.
What if they arrested us and kept us from going to 'Lensterhof' or from ever going back home?
What if they sent us off to Russia? 

 After a short wait in the bus, and repeated admonitions from our adult 'Begleiter' to be quiet and stay in our seats, the door opened and an East-German policeman or soldier entered the bus.
 The bus driver and the Begleiters, who were up front, handed the soldier our papers with attached pictures, which were almost like passports for kids, and the man looked through them, counted them, counted us, and told the driver to come out with him. 

                 

This is a picture of the original temporary passport from May 26, 1953

 We saw that the driver had to open the luggage compartment of the bus and the soldier looking into it.
After a few minutes, the driver came back aboard, started the motor up and began to drive slowly through the bob-wire fenced check-point gate and towards a large wooden structure.
 There he stopped and told us that we could go to the bathroom in the building and to come right back to the bus.
 Since just about all of us had to pee very badly, we went gladly to the building despite our fears.
 After we were all done with that, the bus finally took off and we were on our way to Lensterhof by the Baltic See (Ostsee).

 The adults with us were getting downright jolly and began to sing a song about Lensterhof and the good times we would have there.
Teaching us the words and melody, we all began to sing along with gusto, glad that we had overcome the dreaded Helmstaedt check-point while still alive.

 I remember some of the lyrics, which went something like: " Wir sind die Lensterhofer...wir sind vergnuegt und froh...und wuenschen nur das eine...es bliebe immer so!"

 It was quite a catchy little song and even I felt stimulated by the spirit of the moment to join in.
Watching the passing landscape, the fields, rivers and distant towns, going through pine-forest areas, long after the singing had given way to a tired drowsiness, I pensively took in the flatland scenery.
 
 I couldn't wait to actually see the Baltic-Sea, where the water would go as far as the horizon.
Before leaving for the trip I had looked through many books with lots of pictures describing the Ostsee, giving me quite a bit of information ahead a time. 
 In short, I was well prepared.

 By the time we got to 'Lensterhof,' it was dark and the bus stopped in front of an older brick building.
As if by command, a group of 'Schwestern' (like red-cross nurses) in light blue dresses with white aprons and white nurse's caps, the big and old-fashioned ones, were lining up outside to welcome us. 

When we departed the bus, they told us to wait as they made an immediate roll-call with every name on the list called out and to which we, when our name was called, were expected to call back: "Hier!"
 After that they separated us into two groups according to the first letter of our last name.

 I was barely in the first group since my last name begins with an H.
Then they separated boys and girls which made us into four groups.
 Soon we were led to our quarters which consisted of about three large rooms with six beds each for my group.
 The beds were of the army kind, simple metal frame, and already made up for us.
Then we were told to go and get our luggage and put our things away into an army-barracks type of closet. Having finished this job, we were gathered together and shown the way to the dining-hall.
 All of us were very hungry and as we entered the hall, a wonderful smell of soup and sandwiches wafted into our noses.
It was 'Kartoffelsuppe' (Potatoe-soup) with 'Wuerstchen' (Wieners) cut-up into the soup, and dishes full of customary open-face sandwiches made of hearty rye bread with all kinds of (Wurst) sliced sausages on it.
 It was utterly delicious and everybody from cooks to 'Schwestern,' seemed to enjoy watching us eat with such gusto.

 After eating and joking around, we were told that we should go back to our rooms, wash up and be ready for bed in our pajamas.
 It felt really good to lay down after the long bus-trip and we didn't mind at all having to go to sleep already.
When we were in bed, our assigned 'Sister' came into the room with a book under her arm, and began to read us a 'good-night story.'
 This was a practice which would continue right up to our last night there and was something we enjoyed immensely.

              
"Freude schoener Goetterfunken Tochter aus Elysium..."
 

 The next day, after breakfast, we walked with our Sister towards the Ostsee,- the Baltic-Sea.
In order to get there we had to walk about a good mile down a path which led right into amazing mountains of white sand. Climbing up the huge dunes we suddenly faced the stunning view of the Ostsee with its gentle waves and water reaching right into the far distant line of the horizon.

 It looked to me like heaven and earth had merged into one.

                

This is today's picture of the Groemitz beach. We didn't go to this beach to bathe
but had a private beach area close to Lensterhof.

 Overcome by the gentle immensity of the Baltic Sea, I fell instantly in love with this peaceful giant.
This was a vision which, to me, incorporated and nurtured a whole new understanding of the world and its mystery.

 It was a poetic vision, revealed to the poet!
And it was a vision of ancient secrets revealed to the Gnostic child within me, waiting to return from the forgetful sleep of time and space like a dimensionless 'Ur-form'.
 The dunes with their long sharp grass-blades sticking out in patches from the white sand, and the gentle rolling of the waves, the smell of the ocean, all penetrating, seemed to whisper to me the secrets of the origin of life, and the blue sky with its lazily floating puffy white clouds seemed to sing of endless possibilities.
 
 I was in a state of ecstasy, touching upon something far, far beyond self and words.

 Enraptured by the overpowering experience I seemed to loose hold on reality, drifting quickly and unstoppably into a realm of intuitive knowing, of psychic awareness -- with pictures floating through me in an endless cascade of sequential scenes and voices.
 Had I found the ancient home of my ancestors' realm?
Had I found the source of my soul?
 Ancient voices, ancient faces were coming and going like from a slide projector.
Some faces kind and gentle, others frighteningly ugly, distorted and hateful.
 Chants and the smell of bonfires wafted through my senses like I was possessed by ancestral forces who were attempting to convey something to me which I was too young to grasp.
Or was I?
 For I didn't feel like a child any more as my childish facade, my state of childish consciousness and self-image, had given way to a sense of adult wholeness and ancient knowledge.
 Good God, I knew!
I knew, deep within, through my heightened state of trembling sensual awareness, with my total beingness pitched into this moment, this split-second standing still, that something very extraordinary was going on over which I had no control.

 A revelation had taken place, a revelation which could never be put into words.
A revelation so complete and total that words were insufficient to describe it's awesome meaning.
It could not even be rationalized and put in an ordered sequence..
 Yet I KNEW!!!
In the depth of my soul, I KNEW what I was meant to know.
...It was for me and for me only and not to be told to anyone else.

 Like a masterful symphony it was an experience which could only be told to others through the harmonious vibrations of classical music.
 
 Perhaps Beethoven's sixth and ninth symphony, or List's 'Ein Heldenleben,' could express what I couldn't.  

                
The HJ (Hitler Youth) Knife

 Groemitz, a small town, was not too far away and we would sometimes walk there and buy souvenirs to bring back home and post-cards to write to our relatives and friends.
 There was a nice boardwalk with many shops where one could purchase all kinds of things.
I saw this beautiful knife in the window of one store, it was an exact replica of the 'Hitler Youth knife without the swastika.  Knowing that knives were forbidden at Lensterhof, I had to be very careful and hide it from the Schwestern.
Every time we walked to Groemitz, I went to the store and longingly appraised the knife in the store-window.
 With trembling heart I finally went inside the store telling the sales-lady that I wanted to purchase it.
She told me the price, perhaps it was like eight marks, and I told her that I wanted it.
I had money which my mother had given me to buy necessities and trinkets to bring home.
The lady, showing no extraordinary emotions, as I thought she might considering my age, put it in a cardboard box and handed it to me after I had given her the money.
 Relieved, I stuck the box with the knife inside my shirt and rejoined our group at the appointed time.
Having made sure that nobody would be strolling along with me, I could be sure that nobody knew about my secret possession. Back at Lensterhof I stashed the knife into my closet under some clothes.
It remained there, as my secret, until the time came to return back to Berlin, when I carefully packed it into my suitcase and brought it home with me. 

Unser Liederbuch

 Our life at Lensterhof was disciplined but at the same time very happy.
The sisters, big blondes and Nordic looking, were firm but completely dedicated to our needs.
 Our sister named Schwester Hilde, had reddish hair and the stature of a Viking warrior.
Nevertheless, despite her appearance, she was a very likeable woman who commanded instant respect and instant love. Instant respect because of her size and demeanor and instant love because of the relief we felt when she smiled and embraced us with genuine caring.
 She could be as tough  as a 'Field Marshal,' ordering us to obey her commands and she could also be like an angel gently uplifting us from home-sickness, carefully listening to us and hugging us reassuringly.
 At night we would gather in one room, sitting in a circle, and she would sing with us folk-songs from a small, gray linen-bound song book which was titled, 'Unser Liederbuch,' (Our Songbook) and had an eagle with a swastika on it.
It was the official 'Hitler Youth' song-book.
In those days, when 'political-correctness' wasn't quite as far reaching as today, it was still possible to use a book, even a much maligned 'Nazi' book, without anyone raising an eyebrow.... "God bless Schwester Hilde"! 

One of the wood-cuts found in the "HJ" song-book

 Of course, we didn't sing any Nazi songs but only the old timeless folk-songs it also contained.
I was even able to look through it at times, asking her for permission.
 It was illustrated with fascinating pictures, wood-cuts, of extraordinary quality and symbolic appeal.
Every chance I would get, I would ask for permission to look through it, and Schwester Hilde would hand it to me with a knowing smile.
 Taking in the words, like a thirsty traveler after a long day in the desert, I looked for the songs which I knew already from my brown colored 'Telefunken' records at home.
.....Again the whole mystique and appeal of National Socialism took hold of me and shook me to the core.
A tingling awareness of secrets and pathos went through my spine and solar plexus as I would envision myself amongst others in a stadium, blowing a fanfare, dressed in a "Hitler Youth" uniform, and the entire stadium trembled to the sounds of our instruments and resonated joyfully to the voices of thousands in song....
 Having thus tuned into the recent past, it was only natural that uncle Ali's intelligent face would appear to my imagination and I would re-connect to his words.
 
 Oh, uncle Ali, if only he were around and I could talk to him about all that had happened to me since the last time I saw him!

            
June 17th 1953

           
Uprising against the Communist Regime 

 It was June 17, 1953 and we had walked after bathing in the Ostsee and eating Mittagessen at noon, which is when the main meal is served in Germany, to nearby Groemitz again.
 When we arrived at the promenade with all its stores we saw a display of newspapers from Luebeck and Hamburg with headlines telling us that there was a bloody revolution against the Communist regime in East-Berlin going on.
 We saw pictures of tanks and people laying dead or injured in the streets.
 It said that all borders leading into Berlin were closed off by the Communists and that there might be war.
 We were completely shook up and worried about not being able to get back to Berlin and thus becoming orphans.
 As much as we enjoyed our stay at Lensterhof, we didn't want to live there till we were old enough to be on our own.
I thought about my mother, grandparents, cousins and friends and about my movie-projector and records.
Everything would be lost and I would never see any of them again.
 At least those were my thoughts and fears at the moment.

 Schwester Hilde tried to reassure us that everything would turn-out all right and that we shouldn't fear because we didn't know enough about the situation and whether it was even as bad as it sounded.
 She brought as an old radio and we would listen to the news-reports, trying to make sense of them and hoping that it was all a mistake.
 But it was exactly as it had said in the newspapers. East-Berlin and other cities in East-Germany were sealed off by Russian  and East-German troops and tanks.
The commentator said that the situation was 'grave' and that another war could become a possibility.
Now, how do you think it made us feel, to hear these reports far away from home?
 Especially when 'home' was the place where all this was going on? 
It was Schwester Hilde's and the other sister's kind but disciplined and cool-headed firmness which got us through those days without too much emotional damage.

 Cool, calm and firm with kindness in the tone of their voices, they insisted that we continue our activities as if nothing had happened, and that we go bathing in the Ostsee and play 'explorer' in the forests and only talk about the ongoing events after listening to the radio in the evenings.

 They simply wouldn't allow any display of hysteria and made that as clear as a General before battle.
And it worked!
 Gradually the weight of our fears would lift as we bravely faced the nightly broadcasts from Hamburg.
 Listening with almost no expectations, trying to understand some of the difficult words and statements of the news-casters, we then took-up the subject with Schwester Hilde and amongst each other.
 This way we could rationalize our fears, talk about them calmly and reassure each other effectively.

I can't remember exactly when the news came that a war had been avoided and that the borders were open again, but I do remember how overjoyed we were when we heard these words. 

 Gradually we prepared ourselves to the fact that our return to Berlin was coming near.
On the evening before our day of return, Schwester Hilde and the other sisters prepared a special song-fest for us and we went to sleep with the knowledge that Lensterhof was indeed a very special place and that the song with it's words: "Wir sind die Lensterhofer, wir sind vergnuegt und froh und wuenschen nur das eine es waere immer so," wasn't just rhetoric.                                

 The next morning came and our bus arrived to pick us up and bring us back to Berlin.
I felt genuinely sad having to leave behind the glorious Baltic-Sea and Lensterhof along with the wonderful Schwestern, and especially Schwester Hilde.
 My 'HJ' knife was packed in my suitcase and I looked forward to Berlin with reluctant anticipation.
After being kissed "good bye" on the forehead by Sister Hilde, I entered the bus smiling back bravely with tears rising in my eyes.
 Embarrassed, I looked away and noticed that other kids were struggling with the same emotions.

The bus, then, took off as we waved our last "good-byes" through the windows.

 The trip back went smoothly and even the dreaded border of Helmstaedt wasn't so awful the second time around.
We had grown visibly, in character, self-reliance and even physical weight. 

 Now we were already seasoned travelers ready to face our unknown future with confidence.

            
Continue the journey to part XII

           
Return to Page I and Index