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Why I Demonstrate for Peace on Our Earth in Berlin at Over 70 Years OldDear friends, I have long wanted to express my opinion again. Especially in view of the ever-increasing "war-mongering" in the public media and among our politicians, I consider this urgently necessary. We are practically obliged to speak out in order to preserve peace for our children and grandchildren. My wife and I want not only our children and eleven grandchildren but also the children in other countries such as Ukraine, Russia, or even in the Middle East to grow up in peace, friendship, and mutual respect. Attached are my current thoughts. 
A few years ago, I had the honor – at least that’s how I see it – of being the first to be mentioned with my opinion in Bürgerstimme. Although the peace demonstration on August 3rd in Berlin was some time ago now, the experience still does not let me go. My thoughts keep returning to that day. The Question of PurposeI ask myself: “Why do I put myself through all this? You drive around to join others at large demonstrations advocating for the preservation of peace?” This is how I felt that Wednesday at the peace demo in Weißenfels. It was well organized by the organizers, and the clear desire for peace in Europe was evident. The majority of people seem, at least to me, to care very little about it. I conclude this from the estimated attendance of 150 people. I believe peace does not grow by itself and must always be fought for.Media and TruthYes, the thought of the war in Ukraine has accompanied us every day in the media for over two years now. But what is reported in the public media is not the truth. It is the truth as presented and conveyed to us citizens and how we are supposed to believe it. My father, who died far too early, always told us boys — my brother and me — back in GDR times: “Every coin has two sides, and the most important things are often on the edge.” How right he was. Very few Western politicians look at both sides or even at the edge of the coin of world politics.A Touching VideoOn May 6th, I received a video on my smartphone that deeply moved me because it strongly reminded me of my father. A young Ukrainian soldier had sent this video to his mother. On the screen was a young man, estimated to be 18 to 20 years old, wearing combat gear of the Ukrainian army. His young face looked very tired. In a quiet and resigned voice, he spoke to his mother and briefly shared his experiences, feelings, and thoughts on the futility of fighting. He said he longed for his home, for her, for his mother. His last words in the video were: “Mamotschka, ja tebje otschen ljublju” – “Mama, I love you so much.”Memories of My FatherSuddenly, this image made me think of a picture of my father. In 1944, he was exactly the same age as this young soldier today. Only 20 years old, and my father had exactly this sad, special look in the few pictures from that time. Exactly 80 years ago, in May 1944, he was severely wounded on the Eastern Front, between Staraja Russa and Pskow. They couldn’t help him in the field hospital, but fortunately, he was transportable. With an ambulance, he was driven for days over bumpy roads westward with some comrades. Later, they were loaded onto trains and the long journey continued.The journey ended in Alzey near Mainz after over 2,000 kilometers. His many injuries were treated for more than three months. Afterwards, he was taken to Göttingen, and within another two months, his – as Mr. Pistorius would say today – “combat fitness” was restored. He then received a new marching order to return to the Eastern Front to his unit in the 21st Luftwaffenfelddivision. Last EncountersOn the long journey to the Eastern Front, he had the unlikely luck to briefly visit his home near Oppeln, today Opole. In his hometown Biadacz, then Kreuzwalde, he saw his sister Maria for the last time. Six months later, in March 1945, she was killed during a terror attack by Anglo-American bombers on Oranienburg, thrown out of a window by the air pressure of an air mine. His brother Josef presumably died in 1945 in the ruins of the fortress city of Breslau. His body was never found. He never saw his father again either. His father died of tuberculosis in 1946.Already in 1942, his brother Paul lost his young life near Sinyavino, on the southern shore of Lake Ladoga. Horror on the Eastern FrontWhen my father arrived at his unit in November 1944, the many battles began that would go down in history as the Courland battles. His experiences were so terrible that he could tell my brother and me very little — and only haltingly. The fighting was so intense that sometimes they couldn’t leave their trenches and positions for days. He reported that of a newly formed and sent-to-battle company, only a little more than 30 soldiers were alive by evening. Once, he and his comrades were trapped in a shell crater for three or four days. All his comrades were torn apart and died a miserable, lonely death. He had to watch it all happen. Neither he nor other comrades could help or save them. No matter how much he prayed to God, he had to helplessly watch them die slowly and painfully. Yes, you could say they perished.Prisoner of War and ReturnOn May 8, 1945, he went into captivity near the town of Frauenburg, today Saldus, with the few survivors. What he experienced then was another hell on earth. They had survived the battles, but the torments of hunger continued the dying. On the way, whether marching or having to get off the wagon to relieve themselves, anything green and somewhat edible was stuffed into their mouths and swallowed. They smoked dry grass or any leaves — no hemp — with newspaper as “papirossi,” just to fight the hunger.He told us boys very little about his time in the prison camp as well. The food was usually thin soup and dry bread — but in such quantities that it never made them full. I still remember that whenever we had homemade salted herring, he always ate the bones too. Their situation improved only when they were put to work building earthen huts and wooden houses in the villages around the prison camp. At that time, they saw the misery of the population with different eyes. As working prisoners, they sometimes even had more to eat than the women, old men, and children. This shared work led to a change of mind in my father. He, who as a rifleman with his MG 42 in three years of war had surely killed several hundred, perhaps even a thousand sons of these people on the front, now shared his food unconditionally with them after working together. In November 1949, he returned from captivity. But to where? His home Silesia now belonged to the People’s Republic of Poland. So he came to Merseburg because the Red Cross had located one of his brothers there. It wasn’t until the mid-1950s that he could finally embrace his mother and his brother’s family in Biadacz again. His four brothers who survived the war also suffered severe fates. They were now scattered all over Germany and the People’s Republic of Poland. The Question of the FutureI now ask myself: Do we want to experience all this today? Should these tragedies repeat themselves in an even worse way? Do we want to do this to our children and grandchildren, letting ourselves be driven into war again?I say clearly and distinctly: “No, I do not want that.” Memories of My Own TimeDuring my army service in 1973/74, I experienced the moral impact of the then rifle and artillery weapons on various training grounds. At the same time, as a volunteer and professional firefighter, I have seen enough dead and severely injured whose fate is deeply etched in my memory.The worst moments were when I found the dead twins Nico and Nicole. They had been locked in their room by their parents and suffocated miserably in the smoke of a fire. Their hands slipping down the soot-covered glass of the door still bring tears to my eyes today. Unforgettable is also the fatal accident of two teenagers. The recklessly caused accident happened so quickly due to the high speed of the car that the two — Mandy and Alexander — could not even foresee their death. No to WarAll these things happened in times of peace. They are bad enough.What will happen in a war? No, never again war! Author: AI-Translation - Hans-Uwe Prudlik | 27.09.2024 |
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