My grandma told me what it was really like to live in Germany during WWII

During this spring break I had the good fortune of visiting my grandmother in Canada whom I call Oma, which is German for grandma. I know, this wasn’t anything wild or crazy, but I learned a lot about her as well as my family through my visit. More importantly, I’m writing this because she had something to say to the world too.

My Oma lived in the American-occupied part of Germany during World War II. She was 12 when the war started and she distinctly remembers the day after war was declared she walked into her classroom and the teachers took all of the students to the Church to pray. After that, instead of learning arithmetic or grammar, they learned how to take the fire out of incendiary bombs and how to take cover in an air raid. These are just a few of the many stories she had to share about her life during a time that tests the strength, endurance and will of people.

I started by asking about her youth in the war.

“You did what you had to do. I remember at about your age, at 17, I would take my little red pull-cart and run through the streets to the market to get groceries, since everything was rationed. I had to duck behind things at times because of the air raids going on. My mother would be so furious with me.

“Remembering how things were rationed, even still to this day I cook with very little. We would have lots of soup. Potatoes, celery soup, maybe some bread, and sometimes meat. But, the worst was the soap. I even still buy so much extra soap because I remember how horrible the soap they gave us was, I never want to run out.

“I was lucky that I could speak English, because I could get work with the Americans. I worked in the commissary, which is where regular goods were bought. I was very grateful because on Fridays, at the end of the week, the butcher would have all of these leftover trimmings. He would give me some of the trimmings, which we used to cook our food since butter was rationed, and many other things we just couldn’t get otherwise. Sometimes too there would be a little bit of meat leftover on the trimmings, that’s the meat we would get from time to time.

“The worst job I had been in the infirmary. I taught blind soldiers to read braille. It was so awful and so depressing to see all of these injured soldiers around. They were in so much pain, and they were so depressed.

“I also got transferred to a factory where we wired engines for tanks. We were all given a tutorial on the first day on which wire went where, but I had no idea what I was doing. Each engine was marked with our number after we put it together so they would know who assembled each piece. Well I’m trying to figure out how to wire this thing and I send mine through and a few minutes later there’s a big bang, and mine had exploded. My heart started to pound because I knew they would know it was mine. They took me away and I was questioned, at 18 years old! They accused me of conspiracy, and my only defense that I kept saying was that you had to know what you were doing in order to commit conspiracy. I was so lucky they finally believed me, they could’ve sent me to jail.”

And we both agreed that jail might have even been worse than just killing her right then.

Hearing these stories honestly scared me – I was nowhere near as brave as her. I couldn’t fathom having to face what she lived through every day of her teenage years. Thinking about what it means to be a typical teenager today, that struggle seems impossible to me.

I asked her why she went to Canada.

“We had the option of going to America, but your Opa insisted we go to Canada. He said, ‘there may be more opportunity in America, but the thing with world powers is in order to stay a world power, they will always resort to war’ and he didn’t want his family to live through another war, or his son to be enlisted in the army, so we went to a ‘second-rate’ country so to speak.

“When we first arrived, your Opa was looking for areas to practice (he was a doctor) so I found work at a hotel in the mean time. We lived in Toronto. It was hard for me because I never was a maid before in my life, but I desperately needed a job. I even lied and said I had worked at a really fancy hotel in Germany so I would get it. When I later left, the head maid said she knew that I was lying though.”

She broke to laugh at her good fortune in getting the job even though she had lied about her experience. It was funny, she spoke about how hard it was for her, but I realized that she was no exception. She was just like many other immigrants out there, who move to a new country and are struggling to put food on the table to survive, and she was lucky that she was given a job, because so many are turned away.

I asked her if she was ever discriminated against.

“Yes, I was. I once had a guest who was a Jewish man and he was very abrupt with me and very rude. One day he was leaving the room and said, ‘Make sure my room is in order, German bastard.’ I was working with a Scottish woman at the time and she was disgusted with what he said so when we went in the room to start cleaning I was emptying the trash and there were women’s panties in there. She took them and I stopped and said, ‘no, no, those are trash!’ And she just smiled. After we had finished organizing the room she left the underwear perfectly spread on his covers. When he returned he snidely asked if the room was ready and the Scottish woman replied, ‘Yes, sir, it’s all in order. Including the underwear’. He never was rude to me again.”

We both laughed at that story.

Then she stopped.

“You know, I don’t blame them. It takes time for that hatred to die off, and you can’t force it on anyone.”

“Wars start because of this type of thing, Katie,” she said. “Because people make assumptions about groups of people and think that they are better because of them. There is no more pure race – you’ve got to be kidding. Everyone’s family immigrated from somewhere and everyone has family that wed to some other family, there’s no such thing as a race better than another.”

My Oma has lived a long life and has seen many things. She has not only seen discrimination in many forms, but she has also lived through it. And, what she has seen is that there really is no difference amongst people.

“When your Opa and I moved, we had Muslim neighbors. After we got to know each other a bit I wanted to know more about their culture. I told him what I knew of the Muslim religion and he gave me his copy of the Quran. I was very grateful. I took it and read it. They use different words, but it all comes down to the same fundamental beliefs.”

She told me a story from her childhood that helped put away her message.

“In the fourth grade I was sent home from school. My teacher was teaching us about the Crusades and how the Christians were fighting the Arabs. One day the Christians fought the Arabs and they were victorious. But, the next day the Arabs came and were looking for revenge and my teacher described it as, ‘blood was flowing like a river’. I raised my hand and I said to my teacher, “Well, if the Christians were victorious the day before, wouldn’t that mean blood was flowing like a river, too?” Well, he just wanted to shut me up so he sent me home for the day. My dad was just furious. Not with me, but with the teacher, and he went to the school and gave him heck. You see, you need people who are willing to think. Because, there are many people who will hear things like what the teacher preached and say, ‘oh yeah, the Arabs must be bad people’. But, there really is no difference in the end, and people need to think and realize that.

“No country must interfere in anyone else’s business because who are we to say what is right and what is wrong. What these people believe is a part of their culture, just like it is with us, and no one has the right to try to change things.”

What is the biggest thing you took away from living through a war?

“Tolerance.

“We all need the ability to accept people’s differences and see everyone just the same way. Wars start because there is no tolerance. And when there’s no tolerance, people think they are better than another group.”

This hatred spreads past all boundaries, making people fearful and resentful towards each other.

In life, there are always exceptions. People can point to the Nazis and say, “Germans are bad” or to extremist Muslims and say, “Muslims are terrorists” or to illegal immigrants that abuse the welfare system and say, “immigrants are lazy”, but none of the above are true, and I feel sorry for anyone that thinks so.

I know there are many factors involved in going to war and it does not rely alone on these factors mentioned in the tales of my Oma and I realize that this piece won’t stop war from happening.

But, I write this as a plea to anyone reading to take it from someone who has seen the atrocities of war and overcame them, that in life all we need is a bit more tolerance and acceptance towards one another. If you are confronted with a situation where you face a new viewpoint or opinion, just consider it even for a moment.

Even if you do not agree, opening your mind to another perspective may be the small stepping-stone that is needed to lead to the ending of war. With tolerance comes understanding and with understanding comes peace.