The Diary – Klara Mehlich

And now I am all alone

Dedicated to my beloved daughter Lotte and written starting from the day of my son Walter’s call up on 10 December 1940

10 December 1940

And now I am all alone. For today they have taken Walter away as well. In spite of the fact that over and over again they reassured him, “You are the Second Reserve. You will not be needed”. But after six months war and a second medical Walter became First Reserve, that was supposed to be a long way away from call up as well. Nevertheless I feared the day would come. The boys answered my unspoken fears. “No mother, it will be ages before we are called up”, said Röbi. “I would be the first and only yesterday I reported to the Wehrmacht and they told me I still would have time, you can start your new semester, we do not need you now. So relax mother, until we will get called up, the war is over and Walter will not be called up ever.”

And so they both continued with their studies, Walter at the University and Röbi at the Academy of Art. Walter began to study law in Cologne, for Bonn got shut down after the war started. Röbi was Professor Junghans’ youngest and brightest pupil and everyone who has seen his work considers him to have a great future. If only the war, this unhappy war were over. Darling, when should this be happening? God alone knows the answer and he has given man a free will. Soon the holidays came, August came again and already we had had a year of war.

It was almost a year since you and I had said goodbye to one another, so bitter and hard for me to bear and how often have I asked myself the question: When will I see my beloved daughter again, if ever? Sometimes things seem so bitter and black that one sometimes imagines it can never get better, that these two peoples may never again love and respect one another. But what then? What would happen to us, will I ever see Lotte, my beloved child, again. At the moment of our parting all love of life left me and in the months that followed only Röbi’s sense of humour and Walter’s undiminished optimism and spirit and my sense of duty kept me going.

Nevertheless in spite of their best efforts I could not be happy. Duties filled up most of my time and gradually the small and large restrictions to our lives increased and now one can only get things with coupons, even clothing coupons. There are no shoes and my sons usually have only one pair of shoes thanks to the meanness of the “old man” who never considered these things important and even before these crazy times started I always had a terrible battle to get things for you and the boys.

There are substitutes for everything, even toilet soap. It is dreadful stuff and it has to be used for washing clothes as well. There is no coffee and little butter. There is too little to live on, but too much to die. Fat and meat are becoming scarcer. And so on, and so on. We had not stored potatoes as we had been assured that there were plenty, then came a severe frost and all the potatoes that had not gone rotten went to the military.

What could one do? Very little really and potatoes are so important to be able to feel full. So I had to think about how I could get some. There was nothing in the city. Not for nothing had I spent years walking in the countryside and I had made friends there. They had to help me and so I often went from door to door to beg them to sell me what they could spare. Sometimes I failed. Sometimes I succeeded. Usually I paid with money but sometimes I had to trade.

And so I searched through my things and took the farmers gifts and then I got eggs, potatoes, fruit and sometimes poultry. One week after another I walked into the Bergische Land to lonely farms getting what I could and slowly the winter passed. I often got enough to give to others who were suffering. Mostly I helped the Reinemanns. Bully often went with me and we carried the potatoes in our rucksacks. Bully, her mother and I have formed a close friendship and during the week I often went to visit them. We opened our hearts to one another and shared our sorrows and so we were able to comfort one another.

In spring there were more eggs and so I bought all I could. I preserved any left over. I never did believe what they always said, “The war will soon be over. After our stunning victories the Tommies will soon give in.” No, I have never believed that and sadly I was right. Suddenly it was different and they said, “The war is going to last longer after all”. And so it was and then it was summer. I went into the woods and found comfort in the solitude. I usually went alone. Röbi went once in a while. His enchantment with the woodland soon evaporated! Walter was keener and came with me sometimes, but then I was alone again.

Then it was harvest time and I picked blueberries and bottled them for the winter. How often as I walked through our deep, glorious German woodland and thought and thought more about how wonderful it would all be if people wanted it. But we do not want it and it will never be perfect as long as man exists. I was able to help my friends with my blueberries and soon it was autumn. One day followed another and no news from you. In the evenings we waited for our friends from the other side of the Channel, and so it went on. During the holidays Walter worked in a holiday job and Röbi was mostly at home studying. He painted some lovely pictures of me and I was happy to have both boys with me.

Biba has been gone for ages but calls to see us when he is on leave. He is a dear boy. Karl Floeck has been in the thick of it since the war began. He was already a soldier before the war began. Herr Forschbach has been a soldier for some time. All my friends from the walking group have been called up, have suffered a lot and all want the same thing. That is that it will all be over soon.

Liesel got a position with the army and then Bully had to leave too. Our evenings and afternoons spent together with her mother when we shared joy and sorrow, did our embroidery, exchanged news and discussions about the evil times all passed, but not the war. Autumn was passing and it was time to prepare for winter and we did everything in our power to get ready for it.

Then came what I had feared most. Röbi was called up. He got orders to be ready on October the fifth. That was almost unbearable for me. I would have borne anything else and I asked myself over and over again, “Why? Why must this be?” I thought back to my own dear mother who asked the same questions and said to me, “You will never have the pain I have suffered because after the Great War, they said Never ever war!” And we all believed it.

And now? I cannot bear to think about it. If I had ever thought that this sorrow would come to mankind again I would never have allowed you to go to England and even though you have met your dear husband there I would have done my best to prevent it. It is too hard to bear this uncertainty, to think of my beloved child over there with exactly the same worries as we have here. Not to know if we will ever see one another again. Dearest Lotte, it is terrible.

Now back to Röbi. Before he went he had had several commissions and had earned himself quite a lot of money and could have earned more. Life never works out as I would choose it and Röbi was torn from his work. He had to go. We bought him everything he needed from his money. Vests, socks, briefcase and a very nice watch. Then came his departure.

It was very very hard. Walter took him. I could not accept it and it was a long time before I did. Röbi went into a cavalry division and it was not long before he had an accident. During a drill he fell and damaged his knee cap and had to go to hospital. After he was better he had to return to duty and soon he had another accident. He fell off his horse and was dragged with his foot in the stirrup. The conclusion was that he went to hospital again where he remained for some time with both legs in plaster having dislocated both knee caps!

He cannot go on active service anymore and I hoped they would let him come home. I soon had that idea knocked on the head. Röbi was hardly released from hospital when he was declared unfit for active service but capable for garrison duties. That was it.

Then came another blow, Walter’s call up papers. In spite of everything, like many mothers who had clung on to their sons I had no choice. And so on the tenth of December Walter had to go as well. Dearest child what can I say. It was very hard and I had to accept that as well. I often think of the days with you in England when I said that if war came it would be worst of all for mothers. You thought differently. “No. It will be harder for me.”

Well darling, I can only say with absolute certainty now that it must be terribly difficult for you living in a foreign country, to worry about your loved ones at home, not to be able to say anything, to hear nothing from home. But, Lotte, my beloved child, when one’s children are taken one after another to different corners of the earth knowing and yet not knowing what is happening and always wondering, will I ever see them again. I think this is much much harder to bear especially when there is no end in sight. Nevertheless I try with all my strength to cling to the hope that there will soon be an end and that we shall all be reunited.

My darling it is hard for everyone. Now that I am alone I have taken up English lessons once more. I have two English teachers. Two young people, one an Englishman about your age. I tell him my troubles and he tells me his. He was dying to get home to his parents, praying that it will soon be over so he can come back. The other teacher is an American engineer, studies here and lives in South Africa. He is the youngest son and has heard nothing from his beloved parents for over a year. You see, everyone has troubles and everyone hopes this terrible time will soon be over.

So now darling I have brought you up to date, painting with a broad brush to give you a picture of our lives. One cannot put all the detail on paper and I do not want to. I only want you to be clear when you read this letter of how we have lived and how we have thought of you daily, often hourly, and how often we fear for you. It could be that we may never see you again and this person or that may bring these words to you one day.

And so on the tenth of December 1940 I have begun to write all this down on the day Walter was taken away, in the hope that one day we can relate it all to one another together. If not, darling, it will not have been my choice but God’s will which we have no choice but to obey.

Notes by Clare Westmacott: Biba was Röbi’s best friend. Karl Floeck was a neighbour’s son. Liesel and Bully were friends of my mother Lotte. See also „People and Places“ in the Introducktion

12 December 1940

Today I got a letter from Röbi and a card from Walter. Walter wrote that he thinks of me a lot and will send a long letter. Röbi wrote that he will probably be able to come home on Sunday. He is so homesick and longing to spend a few hours to see everything again. I am longing to having him here again even if only for a few hours. Next Sunday he will go to visit his brother who is still on basic training. I am sitting all alone at home. But now I hear the siren has started howling so I will stop. Good night Lotte, my beloved child.

14 December 1940

A couple of things I must tell you, and go back to August. We had one air raid after another and praise God we had withstood them. But there was one attack, which was very painful for me: There is an air raid, late at night and Röbi was not yet home. I am very anxious, but I knew for his preference, so he would be with Schuster, a Russian émigré where the conversation is always very interesting. And so it was.

This attack was particularly close to us and the bombs were falling and the flak intense. Eventually it was all over, everything was quiet and soon your little brother arrived. He was very excited because very close to where he had been at Schusters a bomb had landed on the home of Fräulein Jäckel. A direct hit. The house was destroyed. I went to see it the following day. My darling if only it were all over. And the same story repeated itself regularly around us.

All the time I thought of you. How often have I tried to get news of you. I have written to the Red Cross and the Foreign Office, and every time the reply is the same: “No news.” I had given up and left it in God’s hands because I thought it might be making things difficult for you, when one day in October, after my beloved Röbi’s call up and I was feeling so lonely and abandoned, what lay in the letter box? A letter. Good God from Lotte. I went hot and cold. I was on my way to your father and I could not open the letter for fear of what it might contain. When I got to his studio in the Schildergasse then I opened the letter and read it over and over.

How I thanked God for news of you at last. I could not stand it for long at your father‘s and then I went as fast as I could to Bully to tell her about the fate of her dear friend in the North. I was very happy and encouraged once more. There was so much news in your letter, above all that you, darling, have become a mother. My darling. And to think that I could not be with you. Yes, Lotte, my beloved child, life is so cruel sometimes.

Well, one day not long before Walter’s call up, the Reinemann’s maid came to invite Walter and me for afternoon coffee. We should come early she said, they had such wonderful news. The news could only be from Lotte. We set off promptly and when we arrived the coffee table was beautifully laid. Frau Reinemann had baked a fruit cake and both Frau Reinemann and Bully approached us and congratulated us. What for? It is not our birthday or saint’s day. No. The congratulations were that we have become a grandmother and uncle!

How did this make me feel, child? Lotte, my beloved child, I thought back to twenty eight years ago when I had lain lonely and alone and had my little girl. And then you lay alone far from home in a foreign country, no-one with you who speaks your language and gave birth to your little girl, my granddaughter. They could not understand why I was not happy. My darling, you little mother, why was fate so cruel that I could not be with you. Why does life repeat itself. I do not know and often say to myself “It must be so.” How often had my dear mother longed to see me and you and I did not go. Certainly I do not deserve better. I will hope then that we will see one another soon and until then, all good luck for you and your child. Frau Reinemann and Walter did their best to cheer me up and the evening passed and we went home.

A few days later Walter went. He went off bravely so that my heart should not be heavy. He went to Lippe-Detmold, not far from Röbi who is on duty in Paderborn after his accident, and Röbi can visit him often and that is good because Walter will find it very difficult. Röbi is a good dear soul and I never have the feeling that he is our youngest. He always does everything for me and regards it as axiomatic that he should.

And so my darling my diary will really begin now, in which I hope to share with you everything; our sorrows and our joys in this difficult time. It could be that it will soon be over, but it may also last a long time, but I hope this will not happen.Yes, and should it happen that I will not live to see the end, I will see that if God keeps you well and you will one day see your beloved homeland again, you can get this book and get a picture of how your people have suffered.

Note by Clare Westmacott: The Reinemann family were neighbours and friends of my grandmother and Bully was their daughter. See also „People and Places“ in the Introducktion

24 December 1940

The next few days have been filled with running around and preparing for Christmas for today is the twenty fourth of December. After I have decorated the Christmas tree I will have finished with the work and can write to the boys, for Walter a very long letter to keep his homesickness at bay. Röbi has told me that Walter is having a very hard time. Poor Walter. And Röbi, although he is the little one I can depend on him for everything. He simply is a really good boy. So he is getting a letter, too.

Then your father arrived. Throughout he has remained the same. He is still working. Work is his reason for living. He is quite alone now that his best friends Peter Rust and Dr Schulte are dead. And now that Röbi is no longer here he really has no-one. Apart from me. And you know our relationship well. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. I look after his bodily well-being but he grumbles incessantly about how much everything costs more than ever now. Earlier because of his children, now because of the taxes and, of course, me. I have said to him over and over again that if it is so bad we should sell the house and that I would take a couple of rooms in the country until the war is over. But he never does anything about it and prefers to grumble. It is hard for me because I sit here all alone day and night and if I did not have my friends I would go crazy.

I have side-tracked myself again. Where was I? Oh yes Christmas Eve. A couple of days ago I was already full of sorrow and then your dear compatriots from the North paid us a call in Cologne, especially in Braunsfeld. The block where the Reinemanns live was very damaged. Next day after the raid Bully came to tell me. Poor thing she has gone through so much lately. When I went there in the evening I saw how dreadful it looked compared with how it had looked the day before when I had left and everything was nearly ready for Christmas. Now it is all damaged. Not a room is intact. It is a miracle that no-one was killed.

And I asked myself once again “How is this going to end? Can it all come right? What is the point of it?” I mulled all of this over in my mind on Christmas Eve, the first Christmas without my children. My boys would be all alone. Darling, even though you will have had longing in your heart you will not have been alone. Father was very nice although he grumbled about Walter who had not written to him. However the evening was quite nice particularly as the nightly visitors did not come and from that point of view we could forget the war for a few hours. I have done a very small tree and we sat and talked and so Christmas Eve passed.

Note by Clare Westmacott: When the second world war broke out the Rhine-Ruhr area became immediately the main focus in British plans for the strategic war in the air against Germany and Cologne was one of the principal targets. Running in parallel with the bombing attacks was the psychological battle to attempt to persuade the civilian population to rise up against their evil regime, mainly by dropping leaflets and broadcasting to the German people.

25 December 1940

We got up very late and had a long breakfast. Walter had sent us a Christmas telegram which pleased me very much. We did not eat until the afternoon, because we went to the Escher See, it was awesome. When it began to get dark father went back to his studio and wants to come back for New Year. Now I am once more alone.

2 January 1941

Then came the New Year. New Years Eve. How terrible that was when I think back. Alone with your father. I had dreaded that he would come and he did but I must say that he was very pleasant and with my best wishes in my heart for you three children so far from me, together we passed from 1940 into 1941. What will it bring? Peace? Oh God, let it be so. Everyday life returned with all its problems and stress. Röbi wrote that he was going to get some leave on the eleventh of January. Something to look forward to once more.

The days come and go. Bully came when she could in the afternoons and we did our embroidery together and in the evenings we went to her mother‘s. Nightly the siren sounds, for our friends from the North come regularly and have done a lot of damage. Many people have been killed. Because we have no protection in the house, no cellars or air raid shelter and your father will not part with his money to provide anything I have to go out in the open to the communal air raid shelter.

I am really looking forward to Röbi coming. I do hope he does come and then we can sit and talk about everything under the sun, especially about you, Lotte, my beloved child, your husband and child. When Walter talks about his niece one could believe he was the father, he speaks so tenderly. He is racking his brain trying to think what the child might be called. He says the child will definitely be named after me and when I say he may be wrong he is offended!

Eventually we agree that it does not matter what the child may be called and the debates are brought to an end. But quietly he continues to speculate. What is it going to be called? Yes, yes. Walter dearest, you tender uncle. The poor lad suffers dreadfully from homesickness, he has had a very difficult time and his letters are full of longing for home. I wonder how long he will have to be away and how events may develop. Oh God. If I have to sit here alone and think about the possibilities I could go crazy.

3 January 1941

Today a letter came from Walter. Walter’s letters really are books. This one however is happy. His Captain has become aware of him and after his training wants to call him as an Arabic interpreter. That would be good. Röbi’s letters are always warm and loving. I am looking forward to him coming.

8 January 1941

Last night we had a terrible attack. We were fortunate once again. Just before Christmas they destroyed everything at Reinemanns‘. That beautiful house. The poor people. How will it end? Everything is fate and I will accept it. Röbi cannot come after all. How terrible. Every pleasure is taken away from me. I could hardly believe what he wrote. “Leave cancelled”. We both have to cope with it. And once again I am alone. I will go to the Reinemanns tonight. And then maybe we will get some sleep. Maybe not.

Note by Clare Westmacott: By January 1943 when the range of the Allied bombers had increased and radar and modern target finding methods introduced, the British and American airforces agreed on a combined bombing offensive in which Cologne and the cities of the Ruhr, and later the cities of eastern Germany including Berlin were bombed night and day; at night by the British and during the day by the Americans. At the end of the war Cologne was a heap of rubble with thousands of the civilian population dead and the survivors left with almost nothing.

19 February 1941

I have not written for a long time. There was not much to write about. Everyday the same misery. During the day the struggle for our daily bread and at night very often air raids and the most appalling misery descends on our poor people. Many cities, Düsseldorf, Cologne, Hannover, Wilhelmshaven have been attacked. Many dead. So much misery. Up to now the beloved Lord has spared your parents and brothers. But for how much longer? Thy will be done.

Röbi and Walter are still in the country thank God. Röbi comes often on a Sunday to visit me. That is the most joyful event in my loneliness. Because, my darling, your father lives his life in the city and leaves me all alone here in the house. But really throughout our marriage I have always been alone and left to bear the burdens alone. Perhaps he simply does not recognise his egoism. I have nothing here. No air raid protection, no gas mask, nothing. Nevertheless I believe that God will do as He wills with me. If God wills it darling we shall see one another again, otherwise not.

Walter is a poor boy who suffers a great deal and I hope he will be able to come home soon because the doctor has declared him unfit for active service. It was an excellent examination for him.

I went to see your father in the studio. There had been a bad night once again and a bomb had fallen in the Schildergasse two minutes walk from the studio. Thank God nothing had happened to him. Yesterday I went to see Frau Nanzig who had invited me to visit her. She had had a letter from her daughter dated 15 November 1940, another dated 24 November 1940 and also one dated 15 December 1940. Three letters. The old lady was so happy and I had to think how long it was since I had heard anything from you. I could not stop myself from thinking, “Why does my daughter never write? She can live freely and cannot send her mother a note. She has a child herself now, since the fifteenth of October, is a mother herself and does not send her mother a word of comfort.”

Käthe Herz wrote in one of her letters, “I have not heard a word from Lotte since I was interned”. What can I say? I do not know what to think. I hope to God it is not out of self-interest, and I cannot really believe that, because that kind of egoism would separate us forever.

But why no sign of life? Lotte, the Lord God has a price for everything even here on earth. I could have made life better for my dear mother. So you see, the payback and if you do anything my child that hurts your mother which is your own fault God will punish you here on earth. I do not deserve this punishment after all I have done for you. Nevertheless I do not doubt you yet. Who knows, when one is alone in a foreign country, how one may be persuaded to behave. Let us hope that soon all will become clear.

20 February 1941

Today I went once again to see Frau Colonel Coleman. Her husband is in his homeland America. He is very concerned about his wife and child. He has put a lot of money for him on deposit with the Deutsche Bank until 1942 and stocked up with comestibles so that as Americans they might be protected against the privations. I wonder if America will enter the war. Let us hope not. Let us pray to God that this murder of the people is soon at an end. It is late again and I am ready to go to bed. Will we have a quiet night? Well, Lotte, my beloved child, in my imagination I can see you with your little daughter telling her about your loved ones at home. Goodnight.

22 February 1941

I have been looking forward for so long to Röbi coming on Sunday for a couple of hours. Today the postman came and brought a letter from the military hospital. He is in sick bay with influenza and is really not well. Always disappointment. Then came a second disappointment. In the newspaper it said that there is now a ban on all correspondence with enemy countries. So now all hope has gone of hearing from you Lotte, my beloved child. Dear God, why am I haunted like this, why is every possibility of contact with my loved ones being taken away from me?

14 March 1941

It is four in the morning. I am in bed and cannot sleep. I have been through a lot of crazy air raids. Night after night the suffering increases. Whole streets have been destroyed. What is a human life worth. Everything is going to the dogs. And what for? For megalomania. The blood of our young is being spilt once again. Last night we were spared and then we heard today that Berlin, Hamburg and Bremen had suffered big attacks. No-one wants to live in the city anymore, a real mass exodus has started and anyone who can afford it leaves. In the last attack the inner city was badly hit and during the attack our Archbishop Dr. Schulte had a heart attack when a bomb fell close to his palace. Röbi is still ill and in sick bay. And so it all goes on as though on a conveyor belt. I will have to stop writing now, I can hear firing outside and soon the alarm will go off.

19 March 1941

Today I went shopping and when I looked in the letterbox there was a letter with a curious stamp. A letter from America? Well I opened it, it was from my cousin Janko. I started to read it, he informed me that everything is all right with you and that your daughter is going to be called Clare. Poor child. Why? Should she have as much darkness in her life as her grandmother? They say here that a child who shares her name with a relative will have the same experiences in life. Although I am pleased by her name I would have preferred it if she had been called Roberta after your father because she would without doubt know how to look after herself, indeed with total self-confidence. If she also inherited your father’s artistic talent I would have no fears for my dear little grand daughter.

Anyway I wish little Klaerchen all the best in the world, first of all good understanding parents so she will have all she needs for a start, then a happy youth because that is what sustains one throughout life. However I am content, because my little grand daughter has good parents. In my mind’s eye I can see Jack’s happy face leaning above his child and I can see Lotte, my beloved child, as a happy mother who will do everything, but everything she can for her child.

Therefore in this respect I have no worries, the child is fortunate and I pray to my beloved Lord God that soon there will be joy for all our people again and with that the possibility of us making contact and as soon as possible a reunion. May God grant my wish that these cruelties will soon be at an end and that people may carry out His purpose on earth – to be happy and content.

We have endured once again a lot of air raids. They have brought once more sorrow and suffering to our poor people. Many children have become orphans, just as many parents have lost their children and brothers and sisters. It could happen to us any night. How long will God protect us? Röbi has been ill for a long time, in sick bay with fever, a head influenza. As he says his head feels like a soft pear. Well I am pleased he is on the mend now. Hopefully I will see him again.

Note by Clare Westmacott: My grandmother mostly calls me Klaerchen in her diary, „little Clare“.

27 March 1941

We have had a terrible air raid, this time the districts Deutz and Kalk were hit and the residential colony of Humboldt has suffered greatly. Many hundreds of people are without homes. The day before yesterday I got a summons from the Gestapo and this morning I went. A young man from the SS asked me if I had dealings with enemy countries. I was astonished at first and denied it, he then became coarse and crude but I protested my innocence and didn’t give in. As things became clearer I realised it was a letter from you which had made me a suspect. I wanted to have the letter and there followed quite an argument.

Yes my darling, if you had thought for an instant of how I might have found myself you would not have had any peace. But in the end it was all right and I departed with my letter. Naturally I was forbidden to tell anyone what had happened. We have gone so far here that we cannot get the most harmless news from our loved ones without suspicion. Anyway I left and when I got on to the tram I read your letter. I was so happy that you are all well. I read it twenty times and went straight to Bully who was thrilled about the letter as well. Then when we knew it off by heart I sent it to Röbi so he could also have some pleasure. He will send it back to me.

In the meantime the war goes on and I have been trying to think of a way to get our news to you. I will have to ask Bully. Poor girl, she cannot even write to her friend. Frau Nanzig does not get any news anymore either. The poor old lady. When your letter gets back from Röbi I will take it and read it to her and she will be very pleased. I always have to comfort her and life goes on. It is hard, very hard.

Walter is on study leave. He has registered at the University and the misery with the old man has begun again. He had to pay the fees and his meanness is getting worse and worse. One would have nothing if one did not practically use force with him. How things will proceed with the house I just do not know. There is still no shelter, no gas mask. Not a single room to be safe in. We will have to leave it in God’s hands and hope for the best.

Easter, 13 April 1941

Nothing much has changed here. Röbi writes rarely, Walter is getting ready for his new term. There have not been many air raids either, some forecast for the foreseeable future. We shall just have to wait and see. Your father is getting more and more difficult. He has been threatening Walter again. He has been trying to persuade Walter to give up his studies and has used a lawyer, Herr P., whom he has bribed with gifts to try to threaten Walter that he will not pay the fees.

One day I had a long talk with Kurt who advised me to take great care to protect my rights, which are becoming increasingly vital for my well being. I must do something about my health. I go to Frau Schuhmann my cardiologist for weekly consultations. My heart does not work properly anymore, it has already been damaged and she says if I do not do something about it I will never see my daughter again. Up to now I have paid her out of my few pennies but I cannot go on doing it particularly as I have to support Walter. The old man does not give me a penny for him. You three have got a magnificent father have you not?

Kurt has told me that I should insist on having sight of our financial position. Frau Schuhmann expects to be paid for my care and Walter has taken up his idle way of life again. I wish I could get away from here for good. Clear off. An end to all this misery and all your father’s nagging. I could live for very little money deep in Westphalia and peacefully and safely await the end of the war. A friendly family has invited me but I would have Walter hanging around my neck and my finances would not stretch to that and I could not leave Walter sitting here.

I will have to leave it to fate and time and hope that perhaps there are good things in store for me. When will the war be at an end? The hatred gets worse and worse and now it has started in the Balkans. How will it all end? Will we ever see one another again? I often say to myself, “if only this had not started.” Yes, when I think about it.

When I think back to how much sorrow your father has caused through his loveless ways. If only he had shown some understanding then all our unhappiness would not have started. You would have stayed here. Then again I think that God moves in mysterious ways. He holds the reins and He knows where we are going. It is my only comfort to believe that God wants it thus.

I do not get to see the Reinemanns very much anymore. After their misfortune with the house Frau Reinemann does not like to sleep there anymore, so every evening they go to sleep in Odenthal and have to leave here early in the afternoon. Frau Floeck is mostly in Bonn with her sister as she does not want to be alone here.

So really I have no-one apart from Walter who only causes me to worry. I do not know what will become of him. Time will tell. I cannot change him. He is twenty four years old and still not fit to be independent. Röbi has not been home on holiday for ages. He was in sick bay for a long time with flu. I wanted to visit him but he did not want that. Anyway he is better now and I expect one of these days he will turn up if only for a couple of hours.

And so I am sitting here and wondering how my Lotte will be spending Easter. I think only of you, then of your husband and child. I think of you and see you before me. I am so pleased and thank God that you are a mother and have something fulfilling in your life, that you love, for which you will put many things aside, who will make a lot of work for you, but who will help to distract you from this terrible time.

I pray to God to keep your child healthy and that He will help you to bring the child up to be a decent person who will not make life too difficult for you. And I thank God that you have a husband who supports you in everything and to whom you can go and open your heart when things become too difficult to bear. Now I will finish for today. I could not sleep and I am here alone in the night, or more accurately, morning. It is exactly five twenty a.m. What will happen today?

Note by Clare Westmacott: Kurt Korsing was a friend of the family, part of their social circle and had once been engaged to my mother. He was a lawyer.

19 May 1941

I have not written for a long time. Yesterday was Mother’s Day and this year darling is the first time you are a mother on Mother’s Day. Röbi did not write even though he could have done. In my disappointment I automatically thought of you, Lotte, my beloved child, who always remembered these days and often prepared a surprise for me. Will we ever have these days together again? Will we ever see one another again.

After the latest raid I doubt we will. It was dreadful and all around us there was destruction. After the attack my nerves were finished and I could not stop crying. Then, it was half past three in the morning and I went with Walter to see what damage there had been. From the Voigtelstraße I could see in Ehrenfeld nothing but fires, flames shot up to the sky. A rubber factory was burning and nearby a petrol tank exploded. We made sure we were safe and saw three other big fires.

We crossed the Oskar-Jäger-Straße and from the Kitschburgerstraße nothing was left standing. We went on and saw that the Rheinische Savings Bank had been damaged. Kurt was in his flat clearing up his damage. And near us by the church all the houses have been damaged. The worst thing is that this unhappy quarter is where I do my shopping and now we will not even get what we are entitled to.

Downtown the Hohestraße, the townhall, Mülheim, eighteen people killed in a shelter. There has been a lot of damage again in Deutz but we were able to get through. The case of Rudolf Heß is over now, they say. Will it really be over? Only the future will tell. I had hoped a sudden change might come and I have prayed for it but up to now nothing has changed. Every evening brings fear of the night and every morning we are thankful to have survived. But for how much longer?

Käthe Harz wrote to me again and I will reply and send a letter through her to you I hope. The longing to see you and the hope of seeing you is the only thing that helps me to endure this misery. Your letter made me so happy in spite of the fact that I had to go to the Gestapo. I will not think about that anymore even though it would be worth writing it all down. I will not think about the Gestapo as God has offered me another way to write to you through Käthe.

Note by Clare Westmacott: My grandmother is referring here to the flight which Rudolf Hess took to Scotland where he hoped that the Duke of Hamilton might be able to broker a peace deal. He was in fact arrested and was imprisoned in Britain until the end of the war, whereupon he was returned to Germany to be charged at the Nuremburg Trials. He was sent to Spandau and committed suicide there in 1987 at the age of 93.

28 May 1941

“Mother today we will have ignition,” said Walter, “why don’t you lie down with your clothes on if you are tired? I feel sure we are going to have an attack.” I cannot do that. I need to take my things off if I am to sleep. So I stayed up. But tiredness overwhelmed me and so I undressed and went to bed with the thought that maybe they would not come today, but hardly half an hour later Walter woke me. Even today in spite of everything I still have the ability to sleep deeply. I do not hear the sirens and if I am alone in the house I do not wake up until the Tommies’ wonderful music sounds overhead and by then it is too late to go to the communal shelter. So usually I abandon myself to fate and stay here.

Well, Walter woke me and we nearly had a row because it took me too long to get dressed. Then the most terrible concert from hell started overhead, and downstairs Walter was shouting and I went quite cold. I went downstairs and through the house. The earth, the house shook. I cried out. All hell had broken loose. We stood together downstairs clinging to one another. My whole body was shaking and I thought that this really was the end.

Then it was quiet. I was still alive, Walter was alive. It was peaceful and we were still alive. And then it started again. Walter and I stood together arms around one another in expectation of what might come. Nothing came and soon the all clear sounded. Yes darling it all passed. I went upstairs and looked out of the window. All of Lindenthal seemed to be burning. Walter thought it was the University but I thought it was more to the right. We could not sleep and I wanted to go out.

Walter and I went through the Stadtwald park, above us glorious stars but we could take no pleasure in it. We could smell burning and went towards the fire. Everywhere the fire brigade were busy their sirens sounding. We came to the Dürenerstraße. My God it was dreadful. A mass of flames. The Corso-Cinema was on fire and nearby a chemical factory, the entire block, Hitlerstraße, Lortzingplatz, Turnerstraße, Dürenerstraße were all in flames.

We went to the Reinartz’ house. You cannot imagine what it looks like. It had been hit by an incendiary bomb. They were sitting in the cellar and the bedrooms were on fire. Their children’s few worldly possessions, shoes, documents, money, clothes, everything had gone. They had saved up to go on holiday and have lost everything. We left silently each with our thoughts and set off for home. We had to try to get a bit of sleep. Walter had to go to work early and it was five o’clock before we got home.

28 May 1941

29 May 1941

Today after lunch I went to Lindenthal. I went through the Stadtwald park, through the Wüllnerstraße, the damage from the previous raid had not been cleared. Dr. Paas’ family home had been damaged. Further on to the Lortzingplatz where there were a lot of bomb craters and the left hand side had been completely destroyed. I came to the Dürener Straße as far as Geibelstraße, Schallstraße and then to the University which was badly damaged. Then I went to Bachemer Straße and came to the school at the Lindenburg – all destroyed.

Well what should I say or write? I went on to the parish church. It was a heap of junk and stones, only the tower remained standing in the middle of all this desolation, looking like a finger pointed at the sky when taking an oath. I went on to the Dürener Straße towards the Rein house but could not get through. I was overwhelmed by the sights I saw, quietly accepting the unchangeable is beyond me, I am filled by the spirit of revolt, I cannot understand resignation. So I went back through the Stadtwald park to our house.

It stood there silent and complete. I went through every room. I went into the garden. All quiet an full of peace. Involuntarily I cast my mind back over the past fifteen years. A lot of trouble but also a great deal of pleasure. I could see you three children, small and later growing up. You brought all your joys and your sorrows to me here in this house. And now this madness, this mass murder has come to my house just as though it was on the Front and no end in sight before it is all destroyed. And after that? Yes you wise men and Fuhrer what then? Dear God in Heaven have you no insight, no mercy?

1 June 1941, Whitsuntide

It is all quiet. Presumably it is too foggy for them to come. I am in the process of moving. On Tuesday I am taking the best things I have in linen and clothing into the Bergische Land. I have rented two rooms. At least for a short time I shall be secure. Walter has to work and cannot go with me. I shall commute between Cologne and the country and wish I could stay there.

Röbi wrote to tell me that he is having a lot of success with his work. He draws and paints his superiors and I wish he could spend all of his time like this until it is all over. Oh Lotte, my beloved child, when will it be over? When will we see one another again? Will we see one another again? When I think about it, I try not to think about it, otherwise I would lose confidence. God will not allow that we won’t see each other again, will he? But nevertheless I can see no end.

Your little daughter is now eight months old and I may never ever see her. Fate is hard. I must go to see Frau Nanzig again very soon. She is like me, all alone. Frau Floeck hears very little from her son. I see the Reinemanns seldom. They are mostly in Odenthal. So tomorrow I am off to beyond Marialinden. It is glorious there and I wish I could stay there for ever. Your father lives for himself and makes sure that he is well looked after and won’t let us look at his cards. That is the way he is and he will remain a stranger to me as long as he lives. Yes my child fate is hard and cruel.

10 June 1941

I am sitting on a bench at the station in Vilkerath in the Bergische Land waiting for a train to Cologne. Since the eighth of June I have been in my summer residence. During the night I heard an attack on Cologne. I cannot relax anymore and have to go and see how things are. As Walter is busy with a student job I can only leave for a few days.

During the couple of days I have been here I have been collecting things to eat, eggs, some butter, even a bit of bacon, sausage and various bits of food that cannot be had in the city. The black market thrives just as it did in the Great War. Coffee is thirty marks a pound. Fat and butter cost a fortune and yet those who can afford it can have everything.

Last week I went to my greengrocer to see if he had any asparagus, for years we had not eaten any. He said, “If you want asparagus you will have to pay ten marks extra to get a small basket.” I was offended. He laughed and observed, “Rich people do it all the time.” Yes darling that is how it is with us. Soon I will not be able to get anything in the country either because things are beginning to get difficult there as well.

I walked for hours yesterday to all the isolated farmhouses and from most of them I got nothing. It was time for me to get my train to go home but I missed the train and so I had to stay here an extra night and set off early this morning. I wonder how Walter managed without his source of food. The poor fellow, he is constantly hungry and has to work all day. I could do nothing about it and had to stay the night in the country and walk the one and a half hours from the station back to my room. And I was so tired.

And this morning I walked back again to the station. And now I am back in Cologne and a great chaos greeted me. Why are people so untidy? I think if they had to clear it up themselves they would soon learn to be more careful. There was no post. Röbi writes seldom even though I sent him a parcel which was so difficult for me.

And from you, Lotte, my beloved child, when will I hear from you? I beg God daily to let me get a letter from you even if I have to face the danger from the Gestapo again. But nothing. And now some good news. Biba sent his mother some good news. He is safe and well. We thought that something had happened to him during the occupation of Crete. Thank God he is all right. I have to go and see his mother and find out about him again. We have had no damage from the air raids. Thank God.

14 June 1941

Night after night there are air raids. It is very hard for Walter, he has to be up at five in the morning and regularly gets no sleep at all. And then all the suffering. Yesterday they hit the main railway station and badly damaged it. We thought the cathedral would have been hit but it escaped. The east side has had some damage but thank God the beautiful windows had been removed to safety in good time. Deutz and Kalk and many suburbs have once again been demolished. Last night they were in Braunsfeld on the Eupener Straße. Well we are all in God’s hands and we can only hope that it will soon be over.

Unexpectedly yesterday evening Röbi arrived home once again. It is always a great joy. The good boy brought me forty marks. Instead of me giving him money he gives it to me. He is a good boy. I hope God will protect him and return him to me. The night of the thirteenth to the fourteenth was appalling. During this terrible raid Frau Linz had a severe heart attack and died on this dreadful night. Well she is at peace now but it is very hard for her family.

Next day when I was returning from shopping I met the two daughters and asked if they knew where the attack the previous night had been. They cried and I asked what was the matter and they said “Our mother is dead.” I was very shocked. I had only met Frau Linz the day before and had chatted with her. Yes, Lotte, my beloved child, one can only say, “Lord, Thy will be done.

19 June 1941

Night after night we have endured the vilest of terrors. Seven nights in a row there have been air raids. They drop leaflets and saying they are going to raze Cologne to the ground. There is nothing I can do about that. It is not my fault and if God accepts it, then why should I not? But I am very sorry for Röbi who just happened to be home for eight days leave and gets no peace at night because every time we get a warning I race to his bedside and tell him to get up. But he wants his night’s sleep and can sleep peacefully even though all hell breaks loose above us.

Next day he asks if the English have been whilst he was asleep. That is my dear boy for you. There will never be another like him. Today he left. I watched him go as far as the corner, my beloved boy in his cavalry uniform and his dear face. May God protect him for me.

And my darling, in the last few days I have had such a longing for you. I see you everywhere, I cannot accept this and tell myself it has to end one day, but when? And with all common sense I cannot supress this longing. Not for Jack or even your child, only for you.

It is evening now and we are going to go to bed for a while before the raids start. I hope Röbi arrives safely in barracks before Tommy arrives. His route north through the Ruhr is very dangerous. But God will protect my good dear boy.

21 June 1941

I was lying in my quiet room in Niederhof and in the night I suddenly heard the thunder of the flak from Cologne. It sounded terrible. I got up and from my tiny window I could watch. It is the second night I have seen this drama take place. Walter is in Cologne. I have begged him to come up here but he does not want to. He says he is too tired and on Saturdays he just wants to sleep so he goes to the communal shelter and so I am slightly relieved. But who has had to die? How many lives has this war already destroyed. Has Röbi arrived safely?

23 June 1941

I have just got back to my room. It is very hot and I feel exhausted from all the trailing round the isolated farms for a couple of eggs, or often trailing round to get no eggs at all. But this time I got fifteen. It happened like this. A farmer’s wife who was about to deliver her baby gave me the job of restoring her battered old pram. And my darling, I, who in these matters am so impatient and lacking in the skills of restoration let alone of panel beating, managed to do the job to the satisfaction of the farmer’s wife. It took me a whole morning in dreadful heat and for that I earned fifteen eggs. I have divided them into five for your father, five for the Reinemanns who are so good to me, and five for me.

By the time you read this, all this will be behind us one way or another. Perhaps I will be sitting with you and if not Bully will explain to you how often we have sat together talking about all these things. We have now had thirteen nights of raids and Tommy will honour the West with his visits more often.

Today I came down from the Bergische Land and saw the destruction at the station and then heard on the radio, “The enemy flew with few planes and did little damage.” Little damage usually means seventeen heavy bombs on a factory in Leverkusen with at least forty to fifty dead, or an air torpedo wipes out half a dozen houses with of course many dead, either torn to pieces or with their lungs having burst. And then one hears a broadcast like this. Oh German people, your glorious Führer said himself in his book Mein Kampf, “The German people are just one large flock of sheep.” How much longer?

10 July 1941

Once again quite a time has passed. Often, in fact nearly every day, the enemy was here and always did a lot of damage, but never as terrible as it was now. It was such a terrible night, it just didn’t end. Finally dead tired we fell into our beds and next day I had to go into town. One could only go as far as the Opera house on the tram. I needed to go to Mulheim and beyond. I got as far as the Neumarkt. What a sight! The whole of the Neumarkt was a bomb crater. The Citizen Hospital was still burning and the Lords house a pile of stones. Zeppelinstrasse likewise.

I went to the Heumarkt. The same sight. The old Gurzenich was completely destroyed. And further. The station. From behind the station as far as the Eigelstein the sight was indescribable. I decided I would not get to Hohenberg and gave up. I turned back. On the Apostelnstrasse houses were on fire, and on the Friesenstrasse and Christophstrasse everything was burning. The fire brigade did not have enough water to put out the fires.

What should I do? Leave? Go into the Bergische Land? I have so often begged your father to let me have some money for emergencies so I would not have to stand here penniless. But no. I learnt about his selfishness many years ago. At the moment I do not know what to do. I stand here so alone. If only Röbi were here. He is the only person I can rely on. Walter is his father one hundred per cent. When I see how this young man can detach himself from all normal feelings and allow things to wash over him with a total disregard for the feelings of others I am reminded of the days when your father behaved in just the same way. Walter is his father through and through.

11. July 1941

Yesterday I went through Cologne which was in flames. It had been burning the whole night. The sights in the city are appalling. You see little children barefoot wearing only a vest, who are running aimlessly about having lost their parents, or playing, thank God, totally unaware of what has befallen them. Walter comes home. During the night seventeen bombs hit the factory where he is working as a student and so there is now no work for him. In one night three thousand six hundred people were made homeless and how many killed. People are not told the truth and the radio lies constantly. As always. They said twenty four people had been killed that night. If you add a zero you still have not accounted for those killed in one night

13 July 1941

Today Sunday is my dearest Lotte’s birthday. You will be twenty nine years old my darling. I cannot believe how time can pass so quickly. But then how long are twenty nine years. How much happiness and how much sorrow are contained within those years for you? For us both? How long will it be before we can celebrate our birthdays together again. Maybe not for a long time. Who knows? I went to church today and offered a mass for my only daughter. For a long time I have not been able to pray so earnestly as I can in this little village church and if everything I have prayed for is fulfilled we will be happy once again.

14 July 1941

Early in the morning I had to go down into Cologne into the daily grind and misery that the war has brought to our beautiful city. Röbi wrote from Münster that Münster is in a gruesome state. A soldier reported that Münster looks like Lille after the storming and all the women and children have been evacuated.

Note by Clare Westmacott: Lille, in Northern France, has suffered a number of sieges in the course of its history, but it is almost certain that it is the siege during World War I to which the soldier is referring. Lille was stormed by German troops and massive damage inflicted on the city during the siege in October 1914.

26 July 1941

Today I am fifty two years old and after a terrible night it looks dreadful in close proximity. This time it was very near. Bombs dropped behind our house and seven deep bomb craters in Friedrich- Schmidt-Straße show the night’s results. The houses have been destroyed and our roof and all the windows have been damaged. It is a miracle we got away. Quietly I think to myself, “What has fate in store for us?”

1. August 1941

Now there has been peace and quiet for days. We are filled with anxiety and expectation. Walter said, “Mother I dread what lies in front of us. What will tomorrow bring?” It is an eerie quiet and I cannot tell you anything other than that we experience the suffering and misery all around us. When I go into the city I have to weep. The work atmosphere is feverish and when I see it all I have to ask, “What is it for?” Dear God. What have we done to deserve this suffering. Soon it will be winter again and what then? We have already in summer no potatoes, no fat, everything is either difficult or impossible to get. What will the winter bring? There is hardly any point in writing because nothing changes, just the same misery.

Bully has been here, I was out and did not see her. She climbed over the garden gate and put everything, some flowers and wine from her mother for my birthday, on the table for me. Yes, Lotte, all windows are broken and good Bully has free access. She has been here three times, but did not find me. I have to visit them. It is a blessing that there are still some good people. Even if only a few. Röbi wants to come for a few hours on Friday evening. I wonder what news he will bring. I must go and see Frau Nanzig again. I have not heard from her for weeks. Apparently Käthe is no longer on the Isle of Man.

7 August 1941

I have not put anything in the diary for a time. What for? The daily or rather nightly visit from Olde England brings more and more misery. Once more my birthday did not bring what I most wished for. Röbi did not write. Walter gave me two English books. I was very pleased that he had remembered. Then he came and brought me a lovely powder compact. Then a few days later Röbi appeared for two days and we were really happy.

But to my great sorrow he told me that the doctor had decided that he was fit for active service in tropical zones. So I am not even to be spared this. Röbi is pleased to get away from the monotony of the barracks. I took him to the train and as we made our farewells our tears flowed.

I am sitting here writing and I am frozen even though it is August. I must say I have never known it as cold as this in August. And on top of everything Tommy has broken all my windows, the roof is damaged and the ceiling in the bathroom has fallen down. It was a dreadful night and we thank God that He spared us. So much sorrow and anguish descends every night onto Cologne. I do not want to think about it. It is too much.

12 August 1941

Mine and my little granddaughter’s Saint day. My darling, your daughter’s first Saint day. I had imagined it differently. But one thing I am sure of, it will not be the pattern of her life. I wished hard that the Saints’ days of my little granddaughter and godchild will get better and better. For my part I wish that the coming year will bring rest and peace. May God fulfil my heartfelt wishes and bring me together with my children again soon. My Saint day was not very pleasant. No one had remembered it and I had to think Lotte, my beloved child, of how you always planned weeks ahead for such occasions. If you had been here how different it would have been. I have a lot of problems with the house, the roof is open, the windows are broken, it rains in and the draught is terrible. One cannot get anything done. What will happen in winter? I dread it.

12 August 1941

23 August 1941

At the moment your compatriots are giving us a rest and we can sleep. Actually they came last night but were soon gone. Walter and I have got it to a fine art now knowing whether we need to get up or not. There is so much pain and sorrow here. Many of our best have fallen and so many have been killed during the air raids. I could not begin to write of all the misery we endure here but if God spares us I will be able to tell you everything. At the moment there have been no potatoes for weeks, no eggs, no meat, nothing, nothing except the black market. The big shots have everything and the poor people have nothing and have to work day and night.

Your father has gone once again to the Black Forest, his second visit this year. He reckons that our house needs to be kept heated and therefore I should hold out here. That is if I can last out. I spend my time gathering potatoes, meat, milk, eggs and coffee and the doctor has said I absolutely must get some rest. Yes, well next spring if I am still alive, I will do something for myself. Maybe by then my dearest wish will have been granted and I will see you again and then I will soon be well.

1 September 1941

It has been a long time since I had a written conversation with Lotte, my beloved child. I do not get any letters anymore at all. The Red Cross? No hope. How often have I written there. I have even thought of going to the distinguished Gestapo to ask if anything has come from you for I am sure you will have written. I will go and ask them.

Yesterday Biba’s leave was over. He is a parachutist and stationed in Crete. Röbi had eight days leave and has to go this evening. It will be hard for both of them to leave. When will we be allowed to be all together again and live in peace and happiness. Last night there was a dreadful raid, we do not know where. We are just thankful that nothing has happened to us. Tomorrow I will have to find food for us because Röbi and Biba have eaten me out of house and home.

They say that it is a criminal offence to hoard food. Well all sorts was forbidden in the Holy Roman Empire and even more in the Third Reich so I shall go to get potatoes, eggs, milk and anything else I can get hold of. Your father is still protecting his expensive skin in the Black Forest. I have got the builders repairing the damage in the house. These are all worries I have to handle without help. I have just heard that last night the tax office was hit. I am sure a lot of Cologne people will be sorry about that!

19 September 1941

Today I saw the Jews on the streets wearing their Star of David badges. Yellow background with “Jew” written on it. All of them, even the children, have to wear them. I do not see what effect this is meant to produce. It will only cause bad feeling even among decent people. People shake their heads in disbelief at these petty regulations. No one knows what the reason for it can be.

Life is so difficult for everyone here and in spite of reports of large and small victories in the east no one can raise their spirits. We are terrified of the winter. I have tried so hard to get everything I could for the winter but without any success. I have not preserved any beans or any fruit. I have no potatoes.

The house is still not repaired after the last attack but I am thankful that at least the roof has been fixed. The masons have been as well but I have had to clean everything up after them, all alone. When your father saw what was going on he decided he needed to rest and has been in the Black Forest for the last six weeks. Röbi is my only ray of sunshine. He came twice. It is always such a joy.

25 September 1941

Röbi’s twenty first birthday. I had never imagined it would be like this. I had never imagined anything would be like this. I am so lonely and have no idea whether things will ever change. When I consider the times we are living in I have lost the ability to comprehend anything. What will the future bring? Where is all this leading?

The decorator has just been and said he cannot begin to decorate the repaired parts of the house for at least two months. There are no workmen, no materials, nothing. Actually I will soon not care whether it is done or not. Maybe before the decorator comes the Tommies will have been and razed it to the ground and there will be a spring clean in one go.

If only I could get some news from you. I have tried again to make contact through Käthe so that she should try to get in touch with you. Maybe this time I will be lucky.

2 October 1941

And now at last I have got news from you although it is very old. My request is dated 9 October 1940 and today is 2 October 1941. I do not know if the fault lies in England or here. The date it was stamped for delivery is 29 September 1941 so according to that the fault lies here. Why do they have to establish such a service if it will do nothing to reduce the bad feeling that exists? Anyway at last it brings news of you even though it is from so long ago. I will go straight to the Foreign department to try to get permission to write back to you. Well, little Klärchen is nearly a year old now and I have not met her yet and do not know how much longer I will have to wait.

At the moment it is quiet here, the English have not been for quite some time. Lotte, you write in your letter that you wish mother and father were not living in the city. Well, your father has been living in the Black Forest for ages and as for me as always, I have obligations. Walter has to go to the factory and after work he has to study and I cannot leave him here alone. And in spite of the fact that he is rude and hostile and makes my life bitter, right now I would not like to abandon him. For all his so called cultivation and education, without me he would go to the dogs. I will wait until he is finally finished. He has made me so many promises, but once the war is over things will be different anyway.

If I should survive the war then my children will be grown up and I will be able to do something for myself. The first thing I would do would be to come and stay with you for a while. I believe I would be welcome. And darling if I should feel that I am not welcome I would not be offended and would simply return. But I would think of myself and my heart and would visit the most beautiful parts of our fatherland, some that I have never seen and others I have already visited but would like to see once again, because your father never showed me anything.

Also I believe that when Röbi has finished his studies that I will have a lot to look forward to. From Walter I expect nothing and would be content if he would no longer expect anything from me. There is no point my writing about all the problems I have and they are little compared to the terrible things that are happening. I just hope that that will also soon be in the past and we will all meet again soon.

9 October 1941

I had told Röbi about my unhappiness with the two grumblers, your father and Walter, and that I really did not want to stay here any longer. He looked me straight in the eye and said that if I did not stay at home he would volunteer for the Eastern front. So you see darling I am always prevented from having a choice. Röbi is my only hold here. Röbi must stay here and I will do anything to keep him here. Röbi loves his little bit of home and he says that without me all this would be nothing for him to look forward to. So I have no choice and must stay here. Maybe one day it will be as lovely here as Röbi imagines.

10 October 1941

Last night I could not sleep. Then finally I got off but was suddenly awake. A voice was calling loudly, “Mother, mother, mother.” I thought it was Walter and expected him to come to my room but he was asleep. I had heard the voice so clearly but it was not Walter, it was Röbi. I am sure of it. It was his voice. But what did it mean? I could not sleep anymore, I could not stop thinking and worrying. What might be coming? Is Lotte all right? I had not heard anything and the last news was six months old. Well morning came and with it the day’s work and that was good.

11 October 1941

Until last night we had not had a raid for at least a month and then when it came it was a big one and upset me a lot particularly as it was unexpected. Anyway it came and went and God protected us once more. Thanks be to God.

The following day I went to the post box to collect the letters and there was a letter from Röbi but somehow not in his usual hand writing. I opened the letter and Röbi wrote briefly and to the point that he was about to set off for Russia. My God. How am I to bear this? Why must I suffer this? Lotte gone and Röbi in that terrible hell. What more can come to hurt me? I will keep the letter. Maybe one day you will be able to read it. At the moment I am good for nothing and exist only in terror of what might happen. Now I know that Röbi had come to me in spirit in the night. He needed me. Oh God, protect my most beloved child.

17 October 1941

Today I received a card from Röbi and yesterday as well from East Prussia. He wrote that he was on his way and would be home again with me in five weeks. He promises a lot, just like you, Lotte, my beloved child, you always were good at it. Mosty you didn’t keep your promises. In the end, my consolation was that you meant well. Well I hope that this time it is true and that he will be back soon. I think he is driving a truck. I will pray to God that this time it is more than just wishful thinking.

In the meantime Jack’s countrymen have been here again more often than we would have wished and have not exactly been harmless. The Friesenplatz stands testament to that. The block near the Institute of Medicine, you remember where as children Dr. Schulte looked after you, well, that got a direct hit and all around has been flattened with everyone killed. Yes my darling that is war for you.

Another taste of life here for you: On the same night they attacked Düsseldorf. Just after the warning an enemy aircraft was hit by flak. It was fully loaded and gave signals, but nobody cared, the flak kept firing happily. The aircraft came down into a residential block in Düsseldorf-Bilk. It exploded and the whole block, man and mouse were hurled into the air. There were at least four hundred people in the block who were killed while the radio claimed it were thirty dead. In Bonn the University clinic was hit and also the Old Customs house and so it goes on. We win ourselves to death, like they said in the last war, and it is still the same.

And another picture: At the beginning of the week I went once again into the Bergische Land to fill up my small store cupboard and I got a few eggs and some milk. I got back to the railway station in Cologne at quarter past eight in the evening and was pleased to get onto a number 25 tram straightaway. But at Neumarkt there was an air raid warning and we had to get off the tram and into a shelter.

The men, these noble beings, got off the tram like lightning to get into the shelter and safety. But last of all was a young woman with a small child and masses of parcels. With the best will in the world she could not get to the shelter without help so even though I was laden myself I offered to help her. The important thing was to find shelter and so we went to the nearest shelter in the Richmodishaus.

Off we went. We went there fully laden. It was still empty. There were a lot of chairs and so we sat down comfortably and were very tired and happy to sit down. But we were not lucky for long. Gradually the cellar filled up with people who owned the chairs. They were people who lived in the neighbourhood who had either lost their homes or who felt more secure down there.

Anyway we had to let them have their chairs and we lay the little child’s head on my handbag as well as we could and then we stood and waited for the raid to start. We did not have to wait long. In the meantime as we had nowhere to sit I wandered around the cellar. Interesting darling! I wandered through the wide aisles and had plenty to see.

Here stood a cardboard box fitted out as a child’s cot, twins were lying in it fast asleep with their mother by their side knitting unperturbed. There stood a washing basket with a little boy in it with his feet, twitching as he slept, sticking out through holes that had been cut for the purpose.

Then in my corner lying there were two children on an ironing board. They were not asleep but reading a book by Karl May. Then again I saw some men who were playing cards. On some steps sat a young couple obviously in love and happy. He was in uniform, she just in what she happened to be wearing. But beautiful in the eyes of her dearest. Everyone was oblivious to everything going on outside.

One has lost interest and as long as one does not get a bomb landing on one’s head one takes no notice of the attacks. Well, eventually the raid was over and we had to get as quickly as we could to the tram. Suddenly the young woman shrieked that in the dark she had lost her child. She could not understand it and neither could I. We missed the tram and it was doubtful whether there would be another. Eventually following the cries we found the child and were lucky and we did get a tram. After she had calmed down she thanked me for my help and I was thankful to get to Braunsfeld. She wanted to get to know me but I declined. I had had enough.

So darling I got home dog tired. Walter had been worried about me and was thankful to get something to eat. Then we went to bed but were dragged from our sleep at half past two when there was another alarm. And so it continues, alarm after alarm. Which one will be the last one?

Tonight I am going to the Reinemanns. They are the only people I can go to and speak freely without fear. Often we sit together and cannot say anything other than, “When will this be over?” I have not heard anything from the Wohlfahrters, it must be for nearly a year. I must go to see them sometime.

3 November 1941

I have not made an entry for ages. Since I last wrote the damage to my house has now been repaired. I have been lucky because they have done everything except the painting as there is no material for it.

I have also been to see Frau Nanzig. She had got a letter through a detour via Berlin which is for me from you. After we had read your letter Frau Nanzig reckoned that Lotte could put a bit more detail into her letters. She is right. They are always the same and when I read Käthe’s letters they are much warmer. Well, that is what you are like and I gave up complaining long ago.

Many sad things have happened here. They have taken away even the last things that the Jews still had and have transported them to Poland. We have experienced many bad things here recently but I cannot write them all down.

On Friday, the last one in October, Röbi arrived all of a sudden and although I had nothing to give him our joy at seeing one another was immense. He stayed until Sunday and then had to go back to his garrison. If only he did not have to go. He recently had to transport horses to Russia and had a lot to talk about.

It is snowing already and we have no potatoes, we simply have nothing and winter will soon be here. Yesterday evening after Röbi had gone I went to have a meal with a relative of Frau Floeck who had invited me. And thanks to these people having the right connections there was everything you could wish for to eat. It was terrible to think that I had had to let Röbi leave with nothing and I sat and ate myself full.

That is the way it is. Some people have everything, many others have nothing. Tomorrow I am going to Frau Nanzig. She sent me a card asking me to go. She said she had a lot to tell me and had cried a lot. This evening I am going to the Reinemanns. I have not seen them for a long time. The repairs to their house have been completed and I am going to see everything.

19 November 1941

Your Saint’s day. Lotte, my beloved child, we all thought about you. Röbi has his last leave in his homeland. He came in the morning and brought me a big bunch of chrysanthemums in remembrance of your saint’s day. In spirit we were with you and congratulated you with a silent wish. You know what that is.

Röbi was very quiet and as he sat there I knew what he was thinking and my heart was very heavy. I had long feared this moment and knew that it would come. That this gang would want my dear boy. He has to go to Russia and how will that end? Things get worse and worse. Walter is now a censor for French. Your father got on his nerves so much that he gave up his studies until the war his over.

Everything here is so desolate. Early winter. The trees were still green and have snow lying on them. The harvest was bad, there are no potatoes, no flour, no fruit. How will we get through the winter? It is November and we have not stored any potatoes. We have nothing, the coal for the heating must last until February. Röbi has been here for four days and I have used all the meat coupons. Tomorrow I shall go into the Bergische Land to see if I can get some milk and maybe some eggs. Christmas is just around the corner, but if Röbi is not here I shall not do anything at all for it. Things get worse all the time. Christmas 1941 and you in England, Röbi in Russia and what lies in front of us. In every household here there is only misery, worry, and heartache.

4 December 1941

Once again I have not written for quite a while, but what should I write? I do not know of anything good to write about and there is little point in only writing about our misery. Who knows if you will ever get this letter, or if we will ever see one another. I do not hold out much hope. It is becoming more and more miserable.

Röbi had fourteen days leave before he left for Russia. Now he has gone and everyday I wait for news of his tranfer to Russia. My little Benjamin. Nothing came easy to him. He has to endure everything, now that he is such a capable artis who promises to rise to the top in arts, and now this. In this unspeakable country where there is so much hatred, and my boy who is only capable of creating beauty and who detests this murder of the people, he of all men has to go. When will the world finally learn to live in peace? Christmas just around the corner, the festival of peace, how absurd with hatred, death and doom everywhere. I wish Christmas were over. Where is my Röbi?

Christmas 1941

Christmas Eve. Lotte, my beloved child, I have not written for quite a time, what should I write about. One day follows the same pattern as another, full of sorrow and the effort to find food and so on and now and then air raid warnings, but one gets used to that. Röbi is here once again and we three, Röbi, Walter and I sit around the Christmas tree with our thoughts. Your dear father created such a to-do that even Röbi was struck dumb. Walter managed to get a French cookery book and enthusiastically translated some dishes for us!

We presented good books to each other as Christmas gifts and we could have done with a lot of other things but it has to be so. They seem to think they know what is good for us and what is not. We spoke about you a lot and they all consoled me with the thought that this must end sometime. At the moment Röbi is doing impersonations of his fight with his dear father and we have laughed so much this evening but I cannot illustrate them for you, apart the usual nicknames you must remember, chamber pots and scrubbing brushes are also featuring in the performance.

Yes, darling, that’s how it is. And now I go in spirit to you and your family and see you celebrate Christmas. Your child is now more than a year old and will be fascinated by the tree. How time passes. I can see you very small looking at the Christmas tree in wonder, then Walter and then my good Röbi. And I remember how touched I was by all your Christmas preparations. In our minds you are here with us and we have discussed everything.

Do you realise how little we hear from you but we do not know the reason why? Is your personal safety so compromised by us? I see how Käthe tries all sorts of different ways of getting in touch with her mother, last time through a relative in America, and she has all kinds of ideas. I believe I see more and more that you are the first daughter of your father. You must know if that makes you happy.

29 December 1941

Christmas is over. From you not a word. Röbi reminds me I should not expect to hear because we are at war and tells me to be sensible. Well I am being sensible, always have to be sensible, but slowly it is getting to me. Today they come by the doors begging for something warm and woe betide anyone who would not give even his last rags. What could we still have? Since the war begann wool has been confiscated, we only get Ersatz. Where could we find something to give them?

I have always given things to poor people and my old clothes box is empty. Anyway I gave them a blanket from off my bed and some of Röbi’s socks and a pair of shoes. And if at the beginning of the Russian Campaign anyone had predicted what has actually happened they would have ended up where so many others have ended. These big shots will not hear the truth and woe betide anyone who would say this. In the meantime they have scrounged books and records and much more and our soldiers are sacrificing themselves. Oh God if you will only protect my good boy. From you no word and now 1942 is about to begin and the promised final victory is rubbish.

5 January 1942

Note by Clare Westmacott: This time Röbi writes something for Lotte into Klara’s diary:

My dear good Lottchen, Now after two and a half years of war I am writing these words to you to tell you how close we are, in spite of worlds separating us because of this bitter fight. Tomorrow I am going away from home, I think it will be for a long time. I do not know what time will bring, but I know that my thoughts are always with my loved ones, mother, father, Walter and you, regardless of how far away I am.

Who knows what time will bring. A soldier never knows. My soul is always with you all. Two months ago I was in Russia and now I am probably going to North Africa. Sitting here and doing nothing is impossible. I cannot do that. It is not imprudence, believe me. I regard it as fulfilment of my duty. Mother and father know this.

A year ago today I received your last sign of life (I was sitting on watch) in which you wrote that I had become an uncle. I am already looking forward to the day when I can greet my little niece. I am also looking forward to seeing Jack again. Hopefully he will not have to become a soldier. You cannot imagine how much I am looking forward to peace, to work and to art. My dearest Lottchen, now I must close. I send you kisses through time and space my dear little sister.

It is exactly midnight. Yours, Röbi

6 January 1942

My pen is at the menders but I must go on writing. Today my good Röbi went away again and this time it was definitely the last leave. I will have to wait a long time before I see him again. Where will it all end? It is unbearable for me. Oh God, what is the reason for all this? I took him as far as the city centre and then I could not do anymore. I burst into tears on the tram in tears and I had to get off early because I could not control myself. I didn’t want to look back, but I did and my beloved boy waved to me until he could no longer see me. God protect my good beloved boy. Tomorrow I will go again to the Foreign Office to try to make contact with you. Bully has written to her friend. Maybe we will hear something. I will stop writing now because I have the feeling the Tommies will soon be here. After I left Röbi I went to Frau Nanzig. She is so lonely and is pleased if I spend an hour with her. Mind you it is nice for me as well, she is so good and kind.

15 January 1942

Last night I had a dream. I got news from you. “I will be at such and such a time in Cologne. Please come to meet me.” I had to hurry and it was so very hot and I put light things on. I was frightened I would miss the train. I wondered what you would look like after all this time. Thank God the terrible time is over. But what is this, I wake up. It was just a lovely dream.

Well, that was only a lovely dream. And now something different, perhaps something you know more about there. Well more about that later. Now some news from the family. Today I heard that Herbert Seuffert has been badly wounded. He has been shot straight through his upper jaw. He was in the east and is lying out there in a military hospital. His poor parents. Röbi is going to Africa. Who knows what this year will bring? My heart is so heavy. When will I hear from you again?

20 Januar 1942

Today I heard that Walter is going to Paris as an interpreter. I am not really happy about it at this crazy time. But he wants to, and I cannot keep him from going. He is twenty five years old and old enough to decide things for himself. His father has forced him to look after himself and I think that when the war is over he can always go back to complete his studies. And so you three are scattered to the winds. May God bring us all together again.

In the meantime things have become really dreadful. Unless one insists on being deaf and dumb one hears the most terrible things from the eastern front. Our poor troops. How have we earned this? Their senior officers all die of heart attacks. Peculiar! But we are supposed to believe what they tell us. Here in Cologne, citizens have been punished because they offended two officials. Schaller and Winkelnkemper. Those swine. How is it possible to offend people like them. The whole city knows how corrupt they are, but no one dares to raise a finger against them. They can openly do what they want and steal from us because those swine in Berlin are no different and each protects the other. And so our soldiers freeze and let themselves be killed.

Yesterday I went to Reinemanns. Bully is getting thinner and thinner because she does not get enough to eat. If it goes on I don’t know what will happen. She has taken a job. She had to. Everywhere there is envy or fear that one could be or have more than another. I wish the time would come when we could have some hope. People say that the Russians are so hungry they eat their dead comrades. Isn’t that dreadful. Yes, well we ourselves have nothing either and even less to spare for prisoners. Bully says she is frightened she might end up in a pea soup! She does not mean it of course but maybe if things get much worse her fears may become reality.

We have heard nothing from you.

Note by Clare Westmacott: Richard Schaller was deputy NSDAP-Gauleiter Cologen-Aachen. Peter Winkelnkemper was NSDAP mayor of Cologne.

1 March 1942

I have not written for a long time and things are very bad here. I had a fall and broke the finger of my right hand and have to have it in a sling. The winter has been the hardest and longest for one hundred and fifty years. It is terribly cold inside and we have no heating. Opposite I saw ladies shoveling the coals themselves. The snow is still lying metres high at the roadsides. The misery is awful. Outside one sees little children in ragged shoes.

We are getting used to eating less and less and Walter and I have two small meals a day to make the food last longer. Even so if I did not have friends in the countryside we would have even less. We are allowed three pounds of potatoes a week but they are often frozen and rotten so I go into the Bergische Land to get what I can. Then again there are the air raid alarms. Where have they been now? Next day we heard it was the station. The dead are still lying underneath the rubble. And the war goes on.

Röbi has been gone now for two months. He is in Landau in the Palatinate doing his last preparations before Africa. He volunteered for Africa simply to avoid going to Russia. I have endured so much sorrow that now I can take the blows when they come. It leaves me cold when the sirens go off. It is all the same to me now. If it goes on much longer it will be immaterial whether you are caught in this corner or that. There are a lot of epidemics. The doctors are not able to desinfect themselves adaquately.

Walter has been sent home sick. He keeps dislocating his knee cap. I advised him to stay in bed for a day but the next day he is walking again. Even though it is obvious he still had to go to a military doctor to show that he was not shirking his duty.

I have no fat to cook with. The fat ration costs fifteen pfennigs a month so you see how small it is and we get a quarter of a pound of butter per person a week. Only big shots and slave-drivers can stuff themselves full. Coffee costs sixty to eighty marks a pound, that is if you have the energy to go and find some. The flour is dark grey and there are no vegetables except occasionally when you may find a red or white cabbage, frostbitten. Fine times! No shoes. I applied for a pair of shoes. I had to queue twice for three hours. Whether it is going to be granted is to be seen. The shop window was full but you cannot have them. Sadly in our German fatherland it is all humbug. Still they assure us that everything is fine here and that the poor, poor English are suffering more. A likely story!

10 March 1942

My finger is still not better and it is difficult to write because it is in a splint. Today I sent you a note through the Red Cross. I wonder when the reply will come. Frau Nanzig gets a letter every month. I am amazed by Käthe who, all alone in a foreign country makes sure her mother is not forgotten and hopefully I will one day be able to express my admiration to her.

I am very worried about Röbi. He sent me a letter and in it he wrote about all his problems. The poor boy volunteered to go to Africa to avoid going to Russia. Now he is in Landau in Palatinate getting ready to go. It is very hard for him and he is constantly hungry and I have nothing to send him. He is ill. If only I had him here. Why does he have to go through this?

He is the best of all of you and life is not easy for him. I wish he could be here with me. He deserves that much more than your eldest brother. He is, and always will be, ungrateful and selfish. We had another air raid, many victims, much misery. If only the horrible winter came to an end. Nothing from you. Yes, children are always ungrateful. Today I tried again to get some shoes. Everything is confiscated they say. Nothing is available.

11 March 1942

I have just come back to my room to go to bed. It is six in the morning but I cannot sleep, my nerves are shattered. I cannot even cry. Perhaps it would be better if I could. I am dead tired, but it would appear that the time for me to die has not yet come. How much longer.

We have just got through another terrible attack. I wondered where it was. Braunsfeld was spared. Walter and I were sitting at the table talking over the day’s events. Röbi had written to say he was in sick bay in the military hospital in Landau, they treat him for scarlet fever.

I was so tired I had been running around all day to try to get something to eat. I had been promised some butter, 14 Marks a pound. Yes my child, life is very hard here. Bully is very pale and thin and has to work all day. The doctor prescribed oatmeal for her but even though it has been prescribed she still cannot get any. Walter has no cigarettes and has to work hard all day.

We were about to go to bed when the alarm sounded. Every evening it is the same. Now that the winter with all its cold seems to be over at last, the horror of the air raids has started again. No peace, no food, no shoes. Dear God your punishment is harsh, but whom God loves he chastises.

13 March 1942

I did not believe things could get any worse. Every time I write, “We have never had an attack as bad as this one.” I will not bother to write that anymore because truly every day is worse, more insane, but ever since they started attacking Cologne the attacks have never been as bad as this one.

It lasted over three hours and what did Cologne look like? The whole inner city was on fire. The Neumarkt was entirely flattened and all the people buried in the rubble. In Nippes it burned and no house was left undamaged. Lindenthal likewise. A bomb fell in Braunsfeld five minutes away from us. Terrible events took place.

I will tell you about one of them. A woman went to visit her badly injured husband in a military hospital somewhere in Germany. The attack took place while she was away. She came home, full of sorrow over her husband’s stat, to find her house destroyed and her two children buried under the rubble.

And so on, and so on. The report in the paper and on the radio said, “Last night enemy planes attacked in Western Germany. There was very little damage.” And so it goes on. We do not know what the future holds or whether we will be alive in twenty four hours. We just have to take it as it comes.

Röbi is finally off to Africa. He wrote asking me to get him some cream, nut oil, Eau de Cologne and so on. Where on earth am I going to find that? But I must find a way. He must have it and he shall have it.

26 March 1942

Today a bit of gossip. Since the death of Dr Schmidt, our new Lord Mayor is Dr Winkelnkemper. He is the biggest philanderer, the least suitable person to be leader of our city. It is not he who managed to get this high office but his wife. It is her reward for sleeping with G. At least this loose girl has now got a title. Winkelnkemper and Schmidt have not been punished for their corruption. Two dimwits were found to take the rap for them.

On Sunday the prelates read the pastoral letter from the chancel steps in which it said that until the autumn many churches are to be sold for secular purposes. The bishops have asked us to support them in objecting to this plan. It is even planned to abandon all denominations, all people would just be believers in God. And God is Hitler! It has gone as far as that. Will the Lord God really not let trees grow all the way up to heaven? Then it is high time for him to take action.

2 April 1942

It is nearly three weeks since the Tommys have wreaked havoc in Cologne. Last night we got a warning but it was all quiet. But we can expect Tommy to return. He is due. Life is becoming more serious. The farmers have been forbidden, indeed under threat of death, to let the starving city dwellers have anything. So I have to go in great danger to get anything. I go on the loneliest woodland paths to avoid being caught. The penalty is prison. So we are sitting here and Easter nearly here with nothing.

I went to see the Reinemanns. Bully is suffering from malnutrition and hunger oedema. Her legs and feet are very swollen. No food. Only the big shots can stuff themselves. But it is getting worse. The day after tomorrow is Walter’s birthday. We have heard nothing from Röbi. The good dear boy.

5 April, Easter 1942

Yesterday was Walter’s 25th birthday. Röbi has gone, I do not know where. He will write. We never had so little. We have only potatoes to cook today at Easter. There is no meat, no heating and it is still very cold. In great danger of being arrested I got a few eggs from the Bergische Land from the farmers. No butter, nothing, and nothing more to say.

Yesterday evening I went to Reinemanns. Walter collected me and was shocked by the sight of Bully and Frau Reinemann. They look so dreadful and I wish I could help them but I have nothing myself. It was your father’s sixty-eighth birthday and as a present I took him five eggs and a tiny bit of bacon which cost me a lot of money. He is desperately worried about Röbi and that is the one thing in our marriage in which we are united. Nonetheless I wish for him a peaceful old age.

Yesterday the newspaper woman came and begged me for some bread coupons. I could not give her any as I had already used next week’s allowance. She sits there at home with four small children with no eggs, no bread, nothing at all. Oh Easter 1942 would that I did not have to endure you. We are about to launch our much vaunted spring offensive and my heart is full of anxiety about Röbi. I have no food for Walter and myself and outside it is time for First Holy Communion. I gave a neighbour a couple of eggs so she could at least bake a cake for her child.

The bitterness increases but no-one dares to grumble openly. Monks and nuns have been driven out of their monasteries and stand helplessly on the streets. It has happened at Nonnenwerth as well. Their work permits have stamped on them “Subversive Element.”

And now to you. I cannot understand why you do not do everything to try to send your mother some news but today I will not dwell on it. I think maybe we get what we deserve and perhaps I have earned this. The Lord God will know if and when the punishment has been paid.

If He will do one thing for me, and I will bear anything if only He will give me back my Röbi, my most beloved boy and you my dear child Lotte. Many terrible things may be ahead of us but we must endure them, even wish to endure them if God will give us peace and free us from this pestilence that we ourselves have elected.

6 April 1942

Over and over again I have read Röbi’s letter of 9th February 1942 but I will not read it again because it makes me very unhappy and there is nothing I can do about it anyway. I have looked back to Easter 1941 in my book. Then one had some hope, some pleasure and now a year has passed and it is no better, and one awaits only one’s fate.

I recently met Dr Kreuser and he promised to speak to the Spanish Consul to see if there might be a possibility of getting a letter through to you. He is going to let me know. On Easter Sunday I got a letter from Röbi which was full of homesickness and bitterness. It grieves me that I cannot help him, but can only offer consolation. That is too little. Why must my boy suffer so much? Life does him no favours. This boy whom I would so dearly love to have with me, for whom I am sick with longing.

Well, to tell you about the night of Easter Sunday. In the afternoon we sat, Walter and I, in the sitting room. I did my embroidery and Walter was busy. We wrote as we always do on a Sunday to Röbi. I went to bed early and Walter was stayed a while later. He had to work on Easter Monday.

Suddenly I was woken from a deep sleep. Air raid warning. We were both in a deep sleep and had missed the first warning. We could hear only the anti aircraft batteries and aeroplanes. The sky was clear as daylight lit up by explosives and searchlights and the parachute flares which we think look like illuminated Christmas trees. All hell broke loose. It lasted five hours and afterwards the whole of Cologne was burning in every nook and cranny. Next day we heard that three hundred big bombers had attacked northern France and Cologne. Many casualties.

8 April 1942

Now I must tell you more about the last attack. The whole of Cologne was burning, and next to us Lindenthal. Then came the all clear and we thanked God for His mercy. Suddenly there was a terrific explosion and we thought it was all starting again. But what was it? An unexploded bomb going off. It happened like this. An aeroplane had come down. All the men were lost, their bodies burnt. After the all-clear many nosy people came to have a look at it. It was in the Lindenburg on Robert Koch Strasse.

Herr Professor Schroeder stood there along with several residents who like him lived nearby. He was feeling cold so he went home to get a coat. He had hardly got to his home when there was a tremendous detonation. His home flew into the air and he lost consciousness. When he came to he was in one piece but the roof of the house had gone. He ran outside and everyone out there had been killed. The bodies were in bits scattered around the neighbourhood. This sort of thing happens in every district of the town. If this goes on there will not be a stone left standing. Only a miracle can save us.

Röbi has written to say he was getting six days leave and would be here at the end of the week. All suffering is forgotten and we are looking forward to seeing the dear boy.

9 April 1942

Last week I met Dr Kr. He enquired after you. I told him that I had heard nothing from you for a long time and he promised me to do something. Yesterday he invited me to go and see him and to give him your address. He is going to write to you from a neutral city to let you know that we are all right so you need not worry. You see darling I try to explore every possibility to try to get into contact with you. Are you doing the same?

21 Apil 1942

Today the best thing I have, had to leave to trek to Africa. I cannot ask God to do more than to protect him. Will we see one another again? I dare not hope. But I must not think. I cannot pray any more because I quarrel with God Almighty: Why do you take the dearest one I have? Why do you not leave me the best child of all? Every night we do not know if we will be alive the following day. Each night we can meet our fate. The raids are terrible and if it goes on much longer you will not recognise much of Cologne, in fact there will not be anything left. Well, there is nothing I can do about it.

At eleven o’clock the post came and with it a letter with an answer from the Red Cross to my enquiry of June 1941 together with your reply. On twentyfirst of April 1942. Dear God in between times half the world has gone to the dogs. What good is the reply to me? Röbi got six days special leave. We two had looked forward so much to having some time together and Röbi had so many plans. But twenty fours had not elapsed before our joy had turned to sadness. He got a telegram, “Return to base immediately.” Yes fate is hard. He went back to sit around idle for seven days. Those precious days, Prussian drill didn’t let us enjoy them.

1 May 1942

Today I went to see your father in the studio. He had photos of Röbi that we had taken when we were last together. Then we had gone together to take him to the station. He reckoned that he would almost certainly be in Italy for at least two months. Well he might have thought that but only two days later I got the news that he had to go straight to Africa. It makes father suffer.

And now the terrible air raids. We get no rest at night at all. And our beautiful old Cologne burns and burns. It takes days to get the fires out. The suffering is appalling. In one night four thousand people lost their homes. I went with father along many streets, to Gereons church, everywhere destruction. Christophstraße is all in ruins as well, I think everything hast to be torn down. And then there is the so-called retribution. I heard on the radio that York Minster had been attacked and Exeter and many other places. In the end what will there be left? Nothing but hatred and rubble.

I have just heard Robert Ley speaking on the radio to the German workers. As soon as I heard his drunken voice I was revolted and switched off immediately. It is evening and the sky looks like it often does when we get visitors. Whose turn will it be tonight? How long will God look on while mankind cruelly tears itself to pieces, when what people really want is to be at home, with wife and children, with father and mother, to go happily to work and live in peace. Why is that evil band of gangsters not hanged, they who are to blame for all of this.

6 May 1942

I went to see Kurt Korsing in the office. He had just returned from Poland. Months ago he had promised to get into contact with you through good friends by letter or by spoken word, whichever happened to be possible. Last time he could not manage it but he is going again soon and if he can he will telephone you. May God help him to succeed. Besides that another friend of his, a Swede, wants to take a letter from me to you which he then can post to you from his own country.

Things are very bad here with no butter, no fat, nothing, but nothing. I went yesterday into the country to get something for us to eat. I went through burned woods for two hours. The English have been there as well so even there nothing is safe. I wonder if we will get a harvest? Röbi has not written. Where can he be?

12 May 1942

I have still not heard from Röbi. I am so dreadfully nervous I cannot sleep. All the time I see him dying of thirst out in the horrifying desert. My darling, my very best. He was already homesick when he wrote from Naples. I could tell.

The English have not been for three weeks and the stupid people believe that Hitler has frightened them off. Just wait, they will soon be back showing us how frightened they are. Churchill spoke on Sunday and what he said was right. We just need to build up our courage and cast off the yoke and send the whole lot to the devil. Then we could clean out the evil and start again. It would mean starting from nothing but we would be free.

15 May 1942

Today I heard on the radio that seventeen transport planes had been shot down off the coast of Africa. They were full of reinforcements for Rommel and the soldiers fell with their equipment into the sea. Röbi has not written. Oh God if only my fears do not come true.

16 May 1942

Thank God Röbi has written. He is four thousand kilometres away from me. Tomorrow is Mother’s day. Father sent me the latest photographs taken before Röbi left. He suffers just as much as I do, but for now I am relieved. I went to see Kurt and brought him a letter for you. It would be marvellous if I could hear something from you via this route. It may take a long time. It will be July before his friend goes to Sweden. Anyway there is some hope. It is very kind of him and I hope that I may be able to make it up to him. I must tell you such a lot. It is crazy, and many things make sense to me now. But this time, if God wills it.

18 May 1942

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Father sent me the photos of Röbi and a nice little drawing for Mother’s Day. I was very pleased as I had also got the first letter from Röbi. Now all I can do is pray for him. Walter gave me two very beautiful angels, books and half a pound of coffee. Half a pound of coffee costs thirty marks. A sign of the times. In the afternoon Frau Floeck came and also her sister and a few other acquaintances, and Walter was the gentleman with all these women. Everyone brought a bit to eat and we had some wine and so for a while the worries about our loved ones on the battle grounds were pushed into the background. Tommy has left us in peace for a long time now. Thank God. Our nerves could do with a break. This year the lilac blossom is so wonderful. All around the house it is in bloom and fills the house with its perfume. How many more times will it bloom before I see you and Röbi again?

24 May 1942, Whitsuntide

Outside storm and rain. In my heart the same. Nothing from Röbi. I will just have to try to bear it. We are used to the privations but the uncertainty about my boy is almost intolerable. No, I cannot do it. Whitsuntide and we have nothing, no fat, no meat and disgusting bread which makes your stomach churn. Walter had to work today. He looks paler and paler and although I complain about him I must get him through this awful time. Because now and again I manage to get a few eggs and some milk from my farmers.

Frau Floeck was going to come today but she wrote to cancel. She has gone to Bonn to get something to eat as she has nothing left and we will not get anything for another week when the new rations are available. In Bonn she has a sister who still has her silk stocks she can trade in. Yes, how many people do these things? They say we, the German people, should look after ourselves and we would soon have peace. Yes, if clever people tell us how we could achieve this we would do it.

If five people get together to plan to overthrow these criminals, you can be sure that one of the five will be an informer and the plot would be dead. And that would be four heroes fewer for the German people. Over and over again attempts are made. With Bully and other like minded friends we try hard to think of a way to do it and I would not hesitate if I could only help. Then I would serve my beloved fatherland if I could help save the blood that is spilled east, west, north, and south. What is the point of it? Where is my beloved boy?

28 May 1942

At last yesterday I received a letter from you through the Red Cross dated 12 March 1942. It consisted of nine words, “All three safe and well. Please send your news.” Have you really so little news that you cannot even use the paltry twentyfive words that are allowed? Or is what Walter says right, that they have removed the other words because they were not allowed? I do not know. It reassured me to know that all three of you are well and safe but it gave me no pleasure. I have not heard from Röbi for some time. The battles going on in Africa are tremendous and I beg the Lord God to protect my boy. Today I went to the requiem mass for Frau von Carnap, she had suffered a lot for a long time. Well she is out of it now but her relatives are grieving very much. I was sad as well. The fact is that today there is only sorrow in the world.

2 June 1942

Today I went on one of my excursions through Cologne following the most terrible attack. Wave after wave of planes came over dropping their bombs. Dreadful, terrible, gruesome! No, I cannot find the words to adequately describe everything I saw. Nevertheless I will try. I do not really believe that you will ever receive this book. I have not attached great importance to it lately. It is really to keep it in my memory that I do it. I doubt I will ever be able to tell you everything myself anyway. It will be a miracle if I get out of this hell hole alive.

However to get on with the facts. I came out of my house and right and left lay ruins and rubble still burning. Walter had spent the whole night trying to put out a fire with only a small bucket. The fire brigade simply cannot cope with the demand apparently and so it just burns. So in the Wiethasestraße fires everywhere, in the Aachener Straße the post office was burning, opposite the hospital there was nothing anymore. In Ehrenfeld, Lindenthal, Melaten there is nowhere that is undamaged.

Aunt Liesel’s house has been damaged. The people from opposite have left their surviving carpets and linen at my house so they are not ruined by the weather. I went to the Schildergasse which was also badly hit. The church has been hit and there is a big bomb crater there. Father’s studio has also been damaged. I went on to the Heumarkt and the Neumarkt. It was the same picture there as well. Deutz, Kalk, Ehrenfeld, Lindenthal and Melaten, everywhere, but everywhere there are only fires and rubble with uncounted dead an eighty thousand homeless.

In my basement and all of my rooms I have people’s carpets and linen and other goods. It is all lying there. There is no light, water or power, no trams, not trains, no newspapers and tonight we will again go to bed with fear. We have had three alarms during the day and Walter has got to go on foot for 90 minutes to work in Riehl. Röbi has not written and I am terrified for him. There are terrible battles in Africa. Dear God protect my boy. I can bear all the rest.

5 June 1942

One of the Nazi big shots Heydrich died a wretched death. I hope the rest of them soon go the same way, so the poor people will finally have peace and quiet.

6 June 1942

When one goes through the city in the evening and it is dark there is still fire everywhere. It is the fires from the fractured gas pipes. They are not able to turn them off and they go on burning. A lot of people with coal in their cellars have had fires burning for eight days. Every church apart from the cathedral has been destroyed or severely damaged. All the warehouses have been burned. The women and children are going to be evacuated. Oh my lovely Cologne what do you look like!

When Röbi or you Lotte, my beloved child, will see Cologne again you will not believe your eyes. Surely even you have not become so English that you are unmoved by the plight of the city of your birth. I am sure that when you hear of the attacks on Cologne you will be filled with anxiety and sorrow. I cannot believe how amazingly God has protected us until now. At Father’s the studio has been damaged and right and left destroyed but he was spared. Likewise Walter and I.

Röbi wrote after a terrible battle. “Dear mother. I am well even though it is 45 centigrades in the shade.” Dear God continue to protect my dear boy in Africa, my good Lottchen in England with her family and we three here so that we may all be together again in a happier time. It is an English proverb “The darkest hour comes just before dawn.” Yes that is true. Maybe we are coming to our darkest hour. The last attack was so dreadful we are still struggling to stand in its wake. Yesterday another two hundred people were buried and many more are still to follow. Fate and doom.

14 June 1942

Röbi wrote that he had heard nothing from me. The poor boy must be so worried about us and I write so often. I replied immediately. You too must wonder about us and perhaps you have given us up for lost. I have heard nothing from Frau Nanzig for a long time, I have written to her but have received no reply. I will have to go and see her. Life goes on here in its sorrowful way. Tommy has left us in peace since the last raid but we always go to bed in fear and trepidation. In the city there is the constant noise of unsafe buildings being demolished.

In the mornings one sees lorries full of old Jews and their luggage. Where to? Who knows? Frau Reinemann claims that the luggage is brought back again in the evenings, but not the owners. One hears that old people are being forcibly removed because there are not enough homes left intact.

If Röbi would only hear from us he would be reassured. When might I hear something from you? If I were young again I would not have children because the love I have for my children makes the thought of losing them unbearable. This uncertainty takes away any pleasure. May we one day find happiness again? I doubt it.

27 June 1942

Four weeks have gone by since that last terrible attack. Many, many dead have been buried. One sees so much suffering when one goes through the streets. Röbi has not written for a long time. Your father came home again but not for long. The peace did not last and Walter was the victim. Walter had a few days holiday and I for one did not begrudge him the rest but your father took a different view.

He may be old but he is still the devil he always was. Nothing suits him. To have him to put up with as well as all my other nerve-shattering worries was too much. Soon there was a colossal row. What kind of man is he to make his own as well as our lives so bitter and difficult? It is impossible to live with him under these circumstances and I won‘t.

The following story demonstrates just how selfish he is. I asked him if, in view of the difficult times and the uncertainty of our situation and that we might be seperated by one of the attacks, he would let me have some money, say five hundred marks. He refused this claiming he had no money, just his check. I would manage to get things and we do not need any money. So now you know.

In the evening he was in the garden and I went to his jacket which was hanging up in the bedroom and believe it or not there were twenty thousands marks. Fifteen thousand mark notes and five bundles of thousand marks each. That is your father. All further comment is superfluous. I have lived with this for over thirty years and for how much longer? Once the war is over and we are free I shall come to you and cast off these burdens. But who knows? Maybe all I will ever do is dream about that. I believe in nothing anymore.

I am so worried about Röbi. I went to the cinema and saw scenes from Africa on the newsreel. I wish I had not watched it, now I will not have any peace at all until I have heard from Röbi. Walter comes home and is hungry. So am I. He has to eat this disgusting bread. We have no butter, no fat, no potatoes and tomorrow is Sunday.

30 June 1942

This morning the doorbell rang four times. It was the postman. He had three parcels from Africa for me. In the first was a bar of chocolate, very dry and hard. But it was from Röbi the good soul. He must have taken it from his rations to send to me. The good boy. In the second was a small piece of soap for me. He had accurately reckoned that his mother would be hard up for soap. In the third was a piece of washing soap. All valuables we have not had for a year and a day. My most wonderful boy thinks of everything.

Walter and I bit into the chocolate with mixed feelings and we thought of the donor who in all that heat had made the effort to send us something. This morning I went to see Kurt Korsing to see if he had managed to get the letter to you. But unfortunately he had not had a chance yet and thought I should go again in August. Perhaps. Perhaps!

3 July 1942

Yesterday the postman rang again with a parcel from Röbi. Soap, and joy of joys, some coffee. That coffee would cost a hundred marks a pound but after a terrible attack we only get a ration of 60 grams which we actually got six weeks later. Well Röbi sent me the coffee and I am enjoying it. At the moment I am sitting alone on the veranda with a little cup of Röbi’s coffee.

With the second post yesterday I got a letter from Röbi which was cool. I wonder if his father has been writing to him. I do not know but I did not write and tell Röbi anything about the big row I had with your father because there is no point in filling his head with our problems. That would be all the more reason for your father to have told him. That is the only thing that spoils my relationship with Röbi and I am very sorry about it but there is nothing I can do.

Last night there was an alarm but the Tommies did not come. Thank God. They have not been for so long and I am sure it is about time we had a visit.

13 July 1942

Today is your birthday. Thirty years. What a long time. Dear God what have I lived through in that time. Two terrible wars and the last one not yet over. I have brought up my children. Yes I can say that I brought up my children all alone, no one helped me. I had to deal with every problem, always alone. Now you are all grown up but do I have peace? No, life gets harder and harder. The war brings more and more privations. On your birthday today we have nothing. I shall have to go again to the farmers to see if they have anything I can have.

I went to the farmers. They have new orders. All their barley is to be appropriated, so they will have nothing to feed their animals, their pigs will not get fat. So my last recourse is lost. While I was on my way through the quiet woodland I spotted some wild raspberries and as I had had nothing to eat I ate as many as I could and felt reasonably full. Then I picked as many as I could carry and took them home and made some juice but without sugar. I will add that as soon as I can get some.

I am dead tired and off to bed now. That was for me your thirtieth birthday. I congratulate you. I never thought your thirtieth birthday would be like this. Man may plan but God has the last word. Last year I went to pray but this year I have not got the strength.

14 July 1942

Last night after a long pause the Tommies came again. We had a warning but they did not come here and went to the Ruhr instead. Frau Nanzig came to see me today. She is very unhappy and has not heard from her children for a long time. I comforted her as best as I could but I am so unhappy myself. I have not heard from Röbi for a long time.

28 July 1942

I have nothing from Röbi since the third of July. You can imagine my state of mind. My birthday was very sad and I could not be comforted although everyone was very good to me. But my friends. I got one card from an acquaintance and otherwise nothing. In the afternoon Frau Floeck, her sister and brother-in-law came and brought wine and sparkling wine and we had a nice afternoon. Walter gave me English books which I can now read fluently. But nothing can make me happy if Röbi does not write. What could be the matter?

Now to something else. Your father has been going through one of his episodes again. He could not bear staying with us for long. The smallest thing makes him insufferable. There is no one anymore who is prepared to spend time with him. He sits in that filthy hole of his and thinks how he can upset Walter and me. Because Röbi is not here any more he no longer has anyone to argue with. Röbi is the only person for whom he still has any affection and he gets worse and worse because he has not heard from him. He has been to the solicitors again to see how he can sever our relationship. Now he wants to say goodbye and separate and it is crazy how he spends his time working out how he can harm me.

After his studio in the Schildergasse was damaged he thought he wanted to come and live at home but there he found Walter and wanted him out and did everything he could to make him go, in a manner unique to himself. I could not allow that at this terrible time so I stood my ground and one day he had disappeared. Then he began his intrigues. It leads to nothing, you know how he goes about it and what he is like. I really thought as the man got older he would improve, but no, the opposite has happened.

He does not have a cleaner anymore and has tried to persuade me to go and clean for him. However the circumstances in which we live prevent me from doing that. In any case I no longer have the strength. I have to keep this house all alone now and it would be impossible for me to do the studio as well. And why should I? I would not get a word of thanks, only would be accused of stealing from him. All charwomen steal from him, he says. In fact everybody steals from him. No one wants him anymore. I however still have that cross to bear. For how much longer?

The air raids are worse than ever. I heard today that Hamburg had been attacked and Duisburg four times in a row. It will soon be our turn again. God have mercy.

9 August 1942

Röbi still has not written. Kurt has got back from Poland but he still has not managed to get your letter, or rather my letter to you, through. Now he thinks another friend may take it through Sweden. I certainly hope that will be the case but I do not really have much confidence that he will succeed. There is really no joy at all anymore. There is less and less here. This week I was lucky to get some butter which cost thirty marks a pound, and coffee costs one hundred and twenty marks a pound. One can hardly believe it but it is a fact and so life continues.

Your father, like your elder brother each in their different way conspire to make my life extremely difficult. I have decided to last out the war here but whether I am able to succeed in doing that is debatable. Last night I had a terrifying dream. I saw you wandering around with your child. My God, it cannot be true. Jack promised me, “I will take care of Lotte, please do not worry about her.” And I believe in Jack. Where can Röbi be?

12 August 1942

My Saint day came and went like any other day. It started very early with an air raid. There were five alarms during the day and it ended with another alarm. There was no news from Röbi, no sign of sympathy. We have been told of great victories in the east, but something is brewing in the west. What can the matter be with Röbi? I am dying with fear. Life here gets harder and harder. There is now no bacon fat for frying at all. They tell us that margarine is as good if not better. Wheatflour now is replaced by barley. So now we eat with the animals out of the same pot. I would have thought that by now we had reached the nadir of our existence but it would appear not to be the case. How are we to go on? It will be interesting to see.

A sad thing has happened which will interest you. Frau T. is dead. Poisoned with either sleeping tablets or hydrochloric acid. There is a lot of talk. Her husband for whom she did everything has betrayed her. While she worked he went off to the Salzkammergut on holiday and took his girlfriend with him. When her so-called friends told her about it she took poison. The poor woman has only worked and toiled away for her family and that was the thanks she got. She leaves a daughter all alone.

1 September 1942

Yesterday I got a letter from Röbi dated 22th of August 1942. He wrote as always affectionately and told me not to worry about him. He tries to reassure me even though he is in great danger. He says that no bullets have been cast with his name on them. I wrote back to him as cheerfully as I could even though I am dying with anxiety about him.

Your father is in the Black Forest, hopefully for a long time. He wrote however to say he was thinking of coming home. Yes, the good soul. Now that the meat pan is hanging high and the wonderful years are over, seven years of adventures, he thinks he can come home and reside with us. If that happens I will go even if it means I have to look after myself.

Kurt is also trying my patience. For so long he has promised to get a letter to you. I went at the time we had arranged and took the letter and when I got there it was to be told he was away for three weeks. So I have had to wait another three weeks. Well next week the time will have passed and I am curious to know whether you will ever get the letter. Now my darling I am going to bed to try to get some sleep in case Tommy comes tonight.

3 September 1942

Yesterday I went shopping. I had just reached the Voigtelstrasse when Frau Scholz came towards me. You remember, the coffee and delicatessen on the corner. I did not recognise her even though I was only speaking to a day ago. “What is the matter Frau Scholz?” I asked. She replied, “Yesterday I received the news that my beloved husband has been killed.” It was dreadful and I wished I had not asked. Bad luck follows some people. In the terrible attack in May she lost everything including their home and now the worst luck of all. I had seen him in May and we had talked about the future. Now only sorrow. So many people you knew living on the opposite side of our road are dead.

18 September 1942

Darling I have not written for such a long time. What for? It is always the same. Always there is anxiety, the terrible anxiety for my beloved Röbi. If only I could have a sign of life from him. The waiting is driving me crazy. And Lotte I am once again completely alone. Yesterday Walter went again. He has gone to Bordeaux as an interpreter. He says for the duration of the war.

Why must I give away all of my children, who alone are my reason for living? Children I have brought up only to lose and be left alone. Will it ever be different? I can no longer imagine it ever being any better. And there are the terrible air raids and their terrors. It was so hard when Walter went as well. Your father is still in the Black Forest and seems unable to even make the effort to write. Yes, if only he feels safe. Well, I do not miss him.

12 October 1942

I went to the letter box and there were three letters, all from different corners of the world. England, France and Africa. I had not heard from you since March 1941 and at least there were twenty five words to let me know you are all well. Then one from Walter, who wrote happily about his first impressions which for someone like Walter are very important. At least one who has some luck regarding the times we are in.

And then Röbi. He is all of my worry. He wanted to send me his new field post office number. He tells me not to worry. If only that were possible. Since he left for Africa I have not had a moment’s peace. I live only for his letters. When one arrives I come to life but within two days I am once again overwhelmed by anxiety. I have been trying to get him home on study leave. I just hope it works. I fondly hope I could have him home with me for a short time.

Maybe all this fighting and hatred and murder will stop. Why is there all this hatred? I have got the most wonderful references from his teachers. Maybe I will be lucky. If only God Almighty hears my plea and gives me my boy back again.

I have to say that with all my sorrow over his letter I have not really been able to be happy about your message. How long is it since I saw my beloved child Lotte and how much longer will it be till we are together again? Your father is still in the Black Forest and I wrote to him to give him news of Röbi and to remind him to become active on his behalf. He wrote back and said that obviously he would do everything he could for his only child. You see even in these harrowing times he still behaves so badly. Leopards never change their spots.

18 October 1942

It is Sunday and I am sitting here quite alone. I have just written to Röbi. He begged me to write to him every day. He is going through the most difficult time in his life. It is terrible to know how much he is suffering, or not to know if he is safe. It must be dreadful there if even he complains. I am doing everything I can to get him study leave. I am not really very hopeful because I do not really believe there is any longer any joy in the world.

Will I ever see my boy again? Lord God I beg of you do not demand this sacrifice from me. It is the only thing that keeps my head above water, the hope of having my children with me once again. You know I never was given a cup overflowing with happiness but now I sit here all alone in this house. When I have finished my work my thoughts turn to Röbi.

As far as my other two children are concerned I know where you are, what you are doing and what your duties are. You are in no more or less danger than I am. That is war and anything can happen to us day or night but Röbi is in constant danger. He will see the most harrowing things that war can bring and every moment he is in danger for his life and I can do nothing to help him. I have done what I can but it is so little. God cannot punish enough the persons who have condoned this murder and brought so much misery into the world.

Herr Reinemann has had to go as well. He is going to Brussels this week. I do not know how much longer Bully will stay. She would like to be with Walter and wrote to him to ask him if he could do anything to help her. I do not hear much from him. Yes, well, Walter is not Röbi. Frau Reinemann has asked me to at least spend the nights with them so I am not totally alone and also have some protection from the air raids. I am going to do that. It is terrible to be alone in the house during those unspeakable raids and to hear the crash as the bombs land and to be thinking that any minute my life might be over. But it is the will of God and if He wills it a person may not have a hair on his head damaged.

The black market here is thriving. Coffee costs between one hundred and twenty and one hundred and thirty marks a pound. Stockings cost twelve marks but they are not silk. Butter is thirty marks and fat for cooking is not available at all. Goering has allowed fifty grams a week more meat and a little more bread. And immediately the crazy mob cries Heil once again and the war goes on and on. They certainly know exactly how to manipulate the masses. And the best of our youth continues to bleed and die.

26 October 1942

Yesterday I went to the cathedral as the archbishop was celebrating his first pontifical service. As I am all alone and without responsibilities I had the opportunity to go to pray for my children. The archbishop is our former parish priest Dr Frings. When I got to the cathedral, what a sight! The cathedral square as far as the Reichardterasse was solid with people. The Nazis will not have liked it at all. But our archbishop! As he arrived in his carriage the crowd spontaneously began to shout “Heil our archbishop.” Then inside the cathedral was filled to capacity and as I was pushed forward by the throng I thought that to get out quickly would be impossible. One would be crushed to death.

I was very sad because I had wanted to quietly tell God all of my sorrows, how my boy is away and how I sit all alone at home day and night worrying. But it was impossible, there was so much noise. I was pushed further and further through the lovely choir until at last I stopped behind the high altar. I stayed there for the whole of the holy mass and saw very clearly the sacred ceremony. I was able to unburden my soul to the Lord God and if he hears my prayers I will get my children back healthy in body and soul.

The previous month I got news from you twice, Lotte, my beloved child. If only I had news from Röbi. Walter has been gone for some time. He is a big disappointment to me. Lately he has not written at all. In the early days he wrote enchanted by all he saw. Also there is much more to be had there at reasonable prices which is unobtainable here except at a huge cost. It would be nice if he could occasionally have sent his mother some coffee or something else but no, he does not even send a letter. Yes well, we are all disappointed occasionally. I would not have thought it of Walter.

8 November 1942

Yes my darling I have just received two messages from you at once. After eighteen months the joy is almost too much. I am pleased that you and your family are well and I am pleased that your child resembles me, maybe once in my life I may get the opportunity to decide for myself. Actually I am not concerned whether she looks like me or not. If it means the child will have to bear the blows in life that I have endured I think it would be better for her to have nothing in common with me at all.

I am all alone here. Walter is in Bordeaux and he is well. Therefore I do not hear much from him at all. He is his father’s son. Now there are terrible battles in Africa and my dear boy Röbi is in the midst of them. Just like his mother, fate does not spare him. It has always been the same from childhood on and he is my favourite.

Lotte, my beloved child, you know how much I love you and that the greatest longing of my life is to have you and Röbi with me again and for that I will bear anything. However if fate should force me to decide to either never see you again or lose my beloved boy, well I should never see you again. I know that you are well and safe and have a husband who loves you and cares for you but I could not live without my dearest boy. But I believe that God Almighty will guide us and save us.

10 November 1942

And now Lottchen once again something worth the effort of writing. So now then. Listen! Yesterday I simply could not stand any longer the anxiety of not hearing from my beloved boy Röbi and it drove me to go to see an acquaintance, Frau Colemann (wife of Colonel Coleman). I asked her to phone father to see if he had had any news. After three months in the Black Forest he has returned to his studio in the Schildergasse. I have already been there three times but he refuses to open the door. That is your father for you at sixty seven years of age. Well Frau Colemann phoned him as though on her own initiative but he was very angry and ranted and raved for nearly half an hour.

He said he was pleased if I was suffering, if I knew the meaning of the word as I had no feelings at all for Röbi, but if any at all, only for my daughter in England or for the swine who lives at home with me. However much I was suffering it was good because I had certainly earned it. Well I cannot write it all down. It is impossible to reproduce the conversation. All I can say is that whatever feelings I had left for him have certainly died now. Frau Coleman came from the phone only under a pretence, mentally exhausted as was I. She was very kind to me and as we went into her sitting room. I was perplexed and slowly wondered whether he was right and I was bad.

The only thing that keeps me going is waiting for post from Africa. In my mind’s eye I thought of my thirty years of marriage abandoned and alone, married to a man whose egotistical nature became clear to me in the first year of our marriage. And why have I put up with it? Only for my children. I did consider divorce but came to the conclusion that the best thing for my children’s education was to stick with the marriage.

Yes, I had to think about all of this, and I came to the conclusion that I did everything possible, and when I see what they are today it is only thanks to the love and care of their mother. And these thoughts uplifted me and I was at peace again. When I got home I was wet through and thought to myself, “I will wait and see what challenges the Lord God lays before me and I will fulfil them if he only keeps my boy safe and returns him to me.”

It was dark when I got home and I felt in the letterbox to get the newspaper. And, oh wonders! What is this? A letter, probably from Walter. I went into the dark house and through to the kitchen where I put on the light. No. There were two letters and both from Röbi. I was crazy with joy and ran around to finally read them. Darling, one day you may be able to read them yourself. They are an attestation of love for his mother and complaints that his father is only concerned for his own well-being. Walter likewise. In all this time he has never once written a single letter to his brother in Africa, not one word of comfort.

I saw in Röbi’s letters the answer to my question which is to endure my fate until I have my good dear Röbi once more and see his good dear face, and hold him tight and look into his beautiful eyes. It will be a long time before this happens, until May next year if the Lord God will protect him for me.

12 November 1942

Now something else. About Walter. It is hard and I have waited a long time before I was convinced that he is an egoist. You know all the time he was with me when he returned from the military, how I raced round everywhere trying to get food for him, hours on the tram, and how I walked to get a few eggs and how I took things to give to the farmers so we could have something, even buying butter on the black market, all for him. Then he got the position in Bordeaux where everything is available, chocolate, butter and in short everything that is either unavailable here or costs four times as much. He sends mit nothing and uses it all for his own pleasure.

His brother, the good soul, if he is still alive endures hunger and thirst and to whom loving and caring words from home would meand so much receives not even a word from Walter. I would not have believed that any of my children could have displayed such lack of feeling. You know, I am driven crazy with worry about Röbi and a compassionate letter would have helped me. Instead he returns Röbi’s letters to me which I had sent to him asking him to return them to me, and he doesn’t add a word of his own. That is your brother Walter.

I just hope my best boy survives. Today after hearing what is going on in Africa I wish he would be taken prisoner by the English. He would be well looked after and I would get him back, otherwise I would not wish to live. What will all this bring? I have such dreadful foreboding. Dear God protect me from evil. Keep my beloved Röbi safe, my dearest son. Without him life has nothing to offer.

19 November 1942

Your Saint’s Day. My darling I congratulate you. All alone. This time no Röbi came, nor Walter who is also in enemy country. Today I went to church and prayed for you and your brothers, my thoughts were with you all, my beloved children. My Röbi I can only entrust to the care of the Almighty and only a wonder or His will can bring him back to me. His last letter was so unhappy. He asked me to send him a cake. If he gets it it will be a miracle. Three I have sent have never arrived. I have sent him parcels with cigarettes and it drives me mad when I hear that he has not received them.

And then there is the terrible carry-on in Africa. I cannot think straight anymore. I am in a trance-like state. I spend hours at night working because I cannot sleep anymore and you remember how deeply I used to sleep. If I do fall asleep I wake up suddenly and see my dearest boy before me. You know I have never had that worry about you. You are well looked after but Röbi is endlessly in danger of his life. You know, Lotte, my beloved child, they have been saying here for long time that soon they are going to attack “the island” [England] and when they do they will destroy everything within eight days. People express their pity for me that I have a daughter living there but I have to laugh silently about it and think, “You poor fools” or sometimes I lose patience with them and give them a piece of my mind. I often wonder why it is that I am not sitting in a concentration camp.

Do you ever worry about that happening to me? The only person who really knows what I think is Bully, not even her mother agrees exactly with us regarding the future. She fears the band of criminals will remain strong indefinitely. I however believe and have always believed that one day they will vanish from the scene and be remembered by the people only with horror just as one thinks of the Black Death or similar atrocities, those godless swine.

As I am just thinking of Bully I must describe her fate briefly to you. Maybe we will one day sit together and I will tell you in detail what I am unable to write now. In the course of time she has been denounced by her own friends and is constantly watched by the Gestapo. She cannot do anything, she is watched all the time. She is obliged to work and has to work very hard. And the worst thing is she is suffering a lot because of it. How can one comfort her, her entire youth is being wasted and she just sits with us two old women, who have worries of our own. All I can say to comfort her is that one day there will be an end to all this, but in my heart I am also full of anxiety, worrying about my dearest child and like her sitting here with terrifying thoughts in my mind.

2 December 1942

I have just got back from your father’s. Once again he has no-one who will clean for him. He claims they all steal from him, no-one will go to clean his digs and so once again I have done it for him. However not out of love. In my heart I can hear my good boy saying to me, “Mother, help the old bugger so he does not asphyxiate in his own filth. Take no notice of what he says.” And so I have done it once again. If I begin to feel sorry for him I only need to think of the telephone conversation with Frau Coleman. I was standing next to her and heard every word. Yes, Lotte, I will never forget that. Anyway I have blisters on my hands from cleaning all his dirt. One thing we have in common is our sorrow and anxiety for our boy and for that reason I will not be difficult.

I just hope that God will give him back to me. We have had no news again. Only your brother Walter has written but a letter so arrogant and shameless. Presumably things have not worked out as he thought they would. You know he is never content and he is soon tired of everything. However we now have this war and he cannot change his mind so easily. He will have to stay there. It would appear that because he is unable to be offensive to his mother in person, he has to do it in writing.

At the moment, Lotte, Tommy is overhead. We have had a warning. I am all alone and sitting in the sitting room. We have no air raid shelter, nothing, simply nothing. If God brings me through all this horror in one piece, if He brings me my boy back, if He allows me to see you again, then it would mean that the unspeakable time will be behind us. And if that were to happen I believe the Almighty will have a happy time for me. What am I saying, He will have prepared happiness for all of us. I will beg him for that and now finish this letter.

Although the war is not yet over my diary is full and I have just heard the all clear. And now my dearest Lotte, my beloved child, should this letter reach you then read it through, aware that it was written for you by your mother in the most terrible time of our lives. The war is not yet over and who knows what is yet to come. Whatever happens and if life separates us remember always that the country where your mother lived is the land of your birth, where you grew up and where you had much joy and much sorrow. Remember too that it is the country where your brothers live and I beg you never to forget this and to stay close to your brothers in spirit even though countries and seas may keep you apart.

I hope that I shall be able to give you this letter myself, if not that it will eventually come into your hands. In that case keep it as a document from our bitter, bitter times. I remain always your faithful and deeply loving mother.

6 December 1942

I did not really intend to write anymore but it did not seem right to stop. It was not possible to buy a second diary. The shops no longer have them because paper is too short. Well it is now eight weeks since I heard from Röbi. I am desperate to hear from him.

It is impossible to describe my feelings. At the post office they say that at the moment there is no connection with Africa. Tommy is being a nuisance again and if what they say in the instructions at the shelters is true, all kinds of horrors await us. And Christmas just around the corner. If only it were all over. They sing a song here: Everything passes, It all passes away, After every November, There always comes May. If only that hope won’t disappoint.

Christmas 1942

Yes, Christmas, saddest of all festivals for me. This time I was all alone. Well alone except for a young Belgian lady who is conscripted to work here in Cologne and whom I have accomodated in your room. I have done it partly to be kind and partly so I am not completely alone all the time. On Christmas Eve we went to your father’s. He could not or would not come home. So I took a few things over to him on this evening that would be equally difficult for us both.

As I arrived he said to me “Do you already know?” “No. What is it then?” He gave me a card that he had sent to Röbi. It had been returned stamped “Receiver Missing”. I had to sit down before my knees gave way. What I had so long feared had become true. Maybe in the near future we will hear even worse news. To think that my dear boy, my favourite may not be alive anymore. Dear God in heaven do not let this be true. No, no.

I immediately wrote letters to everywhere I could think of for information. God, fate is so hard. Röbi my good boy, with so much talent, so much goodwill for everyone and so much happiness in him and how fond he was of his mother. He used to build castles in the air in which everyone lived happily together and where art ruled supreme. And should all that be at an end before it had hardly had a chance to start?

Father is very calm. He clings to his son with all his heart, he sees the great artist in him that he will certainly become if he returns home. He hangs on to this belief that his boy will come home with all his strength. And so we spent Christmas Eve as well as we could in spite of everything. Then I went home with Frau Jansen and the night came.

On Christmas a letter arrived from Walter, a letter full of longing for home, which I also had for him and I wish he were here now. Frau Jansen had to go to work in the morning so in the afternoon to get away from our thoughts we went to the cinema and thank God it was evening and dark when we went home. I wrote to Walter and so the day passed.

On the second day of Christmas (26 December) the same. Not knowing. Up to now I have had no news. I’ve been everywhere to get information. Red Cross Geneva, Wehrmacht high command, concerning missing person, probably a prisoner of the English. To Röbi’s Company headquarters. And now wait. Endure the uncertainty and imagine the most dreadful things and have no peace.

So on the second day I went to the Koenigsforst, because being with nature is the best place to find a little peace. But my terrible thoughts followed me. Röbi might have lain somewhere helpless, wounded, thirsty and no-one to help him and he could have died suffering. My darling Röbi, boy of my heart. How happy I would be if he were a prisoner of the English and then I would have the hope of seeing him again, of having him with me again and I would thank God on my knees. I would endure anything this unhappy war could visit upon me.

9 January 1943

New Year has passed. Always the same. Air raid warnings; worry about Röbi. The not knowing. Biba sent me a card, after I wrote to him in November, to tell me he was ill with his nerves and his heart and that when the big push began he had to return sick to his Unit. I have heard nothing more about him. My enquiry to the Red Cross in Geneva about Röbi came back with an observation from the Post Office that this enquiry should be dealt with by the OKW. I was confused. I had already written to the OKW and been told nothing.

And then today I got this news: “Your son Private R. S. is an Engl. prisoner of war. No number yet. Meanwhile write to adress: German Prisoner of War Chief Postal Centre Middle East Egypt”. A stone fell from my heart. He is alive. He is out of the hell. I am so happy. I thank his and my Creator. I have the chance of seeing him again, even if it takes time. I long for the day when I hear from him personally, if he is healthy and how he is doing.

I will write to you immediately. Can you send Röbi a nice letter straightaway? Lotte, I am sure that you will do everything you can for your little Röbi. You must do this. It is your duty to your mother, who is making this plea for the first time in your life. But I know this is not a big request. I know that you will do everything in your power for him. The main question though is this. How do I get this information to you?

Note by Clare Westmacott: Röbi had left for Africa on April 21 1942. In Libya at the end of May 1942 Rommel launched a swift attack against the British desert army and on June 21 he captured Tobruk and two days later he entered Egypt. By the end of June he had reached El Alamein and was only sixty five miles from Alexandria and the delta of the Nile. Rommel resumed his offensive on August 31 intending to finish the British Eighth army and capture Alexandria and the Nile. However after a violent and unsuccessful battle Rommel went on the defensive. He also went to Austria on sick leave on account of an infection and liver disease but on October 24 he received a telephone call from Hitler ordering him to return to Africa.

By the time Rommel arrived back at his headquarters west of El Alamein the following evening, the battle of El Alamein was effectively lost. General Stumme had died of a heart attack. The Eighth Army had received reinforcements and overwhelmed the Axis divisions. The RAF were supreme and were pounding his supplies, troops and armour. On November 2 Montgomery’s infantry broke through on the southern edge of the front and began to overwhelm the Italian divisions there.

Hitler’s response to Rommel’s request to withdraw was as follows:

“I and the German people are watching the heroic defensive battle being waged in Egypt with faithful trust in your leadership and in the bravery of the German-Italian troops under your command. In the situation in which you now find yourself, there can be no other consideration save that of holding fast, of not retreating one step, of throwing every available gun and every available man into the battle. You can show your troops no other way than that which leads to victory or death.”

Rommel had actually started the withdrawal and resolved with difficulty to obey these orders, although the actual commander of the German Afrika Corps, General von Thoma is quoted as calling Hitler’s order madness and a death sentence for the German troops and their Italian allies. On November 4, 1942, von Thoma was captured by the British standing near a burning tank. That evening he dined with Montgomery at his headquarters mess!

Rommel again sent a message asking for permission to withdraw and gave orders even before the approval from Hitler came. Montgomery overran them. At the second battle of El Alamein Rommel lost 54,000 men, Germans and allies, of which 30,000 were captured, 15,000 wounded an 9,000 killed.

Röbi was among the captured and was particularly well looked after when the English discovered he had a sister living in England. He had on him a photograph of her and my father taken on their honeymoon in Scotland, standing by a car with English registration plates and a dedication to him on the back.

(Sources: William L. Shirer, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich: A History of Nazi Germany, Simon and Schuster, New York 1960; Alexander Querengässer,El Alamein 1942: Materialschlacht in Nordafrika, Ferdinand Schöningh, Paderborn 2019; statista.com)

10 February 1943

It is a long time since I wrote. The air-raids are getting more and more dangerous and will continue. Many dead, much suffering. When will it end? I do not believe anymore that we will have a reunion. I do not believe you will ever read these words. I don’t hear any more from Röbi. They have told me he will be taken from Egypt to Canada and now I am terrified something may happen to him on the way there. If he would only write then everything would be all right.

Now Walter is in danger and I worry very much about him. When it all starts over there and it will in due course then he will be in very great danger. He is coming home on leave in three weeks. He will be counting the days like me. I no longer hear anything from you.

Your father is and will remain the same. Egoist through and through. You can give him, you can be good to him, no thanks. He is friendly enough to me but will tell everyone else how bad we are. If I didn’t think every night something could happen to him, he is getting old, I think I would let him rot because he would rot anyway. Nobody does anything for him but me.

Here things have gone so far, that women have to work for the war effort in the munitions factories. Bully is working in Brussels. Frau Reinemann is alone. Her husband is away. To-day the Post returned ten letters I had sent to Röbi. How long must the poor boy not have heard from any of us. He will be very worried about us and I don’t know if he will get my latest letters. How long will we have to live in these dreadful conditions?

Every evening and every night the air-raids bring more death and suffering. Frau Flöck received the news that Karl was missing with the Sixth Army in Stalingrad. As you will know this whole episode was a disaster. Whether he has been killed or taken prisoner no-one knows. Isn’t that appalling. The poor woman cannot be comforted.

There is no point in going to town anymore. There are no streets that have not been damaged in the air raids, nor going to the shops. Today you cannot get anything. In the whole city there are no shoes, no stockings. Nothing, absolutely nothing. We got a couple of eggs before Christmas, since then nothing and now it is February. In the city you can only see foreigners, you hear all kinds of languages. I often wonder what will happen when the last dance starts, because for them all we are enemies and rightly so.

Note by Clare Westmacott: By the end of the winter 1941 /1942 more than a million German soldiers had been killed or wounded in Russia.

After these setbacks Hitler decided on a different strategy. He planned to conquer the Caucasus oilfields, the industrial area of Donetsk, the wheatfields of Kuban and take Stalingrad on the Volga, during the summer of 1942. Success would deny the Russians these badly needed products and make them available to his own desperate people and his war effort.

As well as these requirements he also needed men to replenish his depleted ranks. He sent to Budapest and Bucharest for several divisions of Hungarian and Rumanian soldiers and persuaded the Italians to supply six divisions.

At first the Axis powers were successful and by August they had reached the Volga just north of Stalingrad. Believing the Russians to be finished Hitler took an enormous gamble which was to take the Caucasus and Stalingrad at the same time. By November the situation was catastrophic. The Sixth Army, under the Command of General Paulus, starving, frost bitten and without winter clothes, were surrounded at Stalingrad and any suggestions of surrender or breaking out were vetoed by Hitler. On two occasions the Russians offered the besieged Germans the opportunity to surrender on honourable terms. When Paulus suggested to accept, Hitler’s reply was on January 8th 1943 was: “Surrender is forbidden. The Army will hold their position to the last man and the last round.”

An estimated 700.000 people died during the fighting in Stalingrad, most of them Russian soldiers. Out of the 200.000 German soldiers in Stalingrad 60.000 were killed. Of the 91.000 who went into captivity only 5,000 ever returned home. The rest died in the camps.

Source: Antony Beevor: Stalingrad. Viking 1998

15 February 1943

Once again we have endured terrible air-raids. Bit by bit one piece after another of your beautiful home town is being destroyed. I’m afraid Röbi will not recognise his Colonia when he gets back. This time there was an attack close by. One hit after another. I was with Frau Reinemann who is alone. Bully and her father are in Brussels, drafted for work. Will we all ever see one another again. I doubt it. The air raid was short but terrible. We came out of the cellar and there was burning all around us. Lindenthal, Klettenberg, Sülz, Ehrenfeld were in ruins and burning. Yes, and this madness goes on all because of a couple of Schweinhunds and one or two big-shots.

26 April 1943, Easter Monday

A long time has passed. For a long time I could not get around to writing. A lot has happened. In the meantime Walter has been home on leave. He came on the 26th February. He arrived very tired, the train was six hours late. I went home from the station twice. Eventually he arrived tired and hungry. The poor lad was worn out from the long journey with only a piece of bread to eat. He ate and then he wanted to go to bed before the nightly performance began. We were sure there would be a raid. All day the alarms had been going one after another.

But as he undressed I was shocked to see his legs. They were full of deep sores filled with pus. He had had them a long time. No-one had helped him. The doctor had declared: vitamin deficiency. The poor boy, I begged him to go to the doctor but he did not want to. He wanted to rest and not spend his leave sitting in the doctor’s waiting room. I could not blame him, and so I tended him using an old recipe for camomile baths. But the sores would not heal and I was terrified he would have to go back with his legs still with open sores, as he only had thirteen days leave. My poor boy, and so I spent hours cleaning his wounds with camomile and thank God it helped and when he left only one sore had not healed. I bandaged it well and was thankful when he wrote to say this one had finally healed as well.

Well now back to our first evening. After Walter had had a bath and was resting the English arrived and it was a terrible raid. I was out of my mind, we were caught in the house, no protection, nothing. I did not think we would survive. During the air-raids Walter is always the one who calms me down. A lady, a colleague of Walter’s was with us. It was dreadful. More and more planes came over. At last it was quiet.

The aftermath of the raid was as usual terrible. In Klettenberg whole streets had disappeared, Lindenthal, Dürener Straße, dreadful. The Minorities church has been badly damaged and all is rubble. Nothing else. Yes and so it continues and is getting worse. Walter was very tired and I made things as nice for him as I could, getting things wherever I could and trailing home with them and we made the best of the time together. The time passed quickly, and far too soon I took him to the station, knowing I would not see him for a long time. And now I am alone again.

Walter did not go to see his father. I asked him to but he said he did not want to go and I could not blame him. Father and son cannot get on. The fault is not Walter’s.

I went to try to find a room in the country, because I want to save some things for the boys. I got a room in an old Castle Ehreshoven from a Baron Geyr von Schweppenburg but it was not as easy as it sounds. It was very difficult, with endless form filling and checking of my credentials but I got permission. Maybe one day I will be able to tell you all about it.

I took things there that I don’t want to be destroyed. I go there to sleep often and when it gets very bad I will sleep there every night. Frau Reinemann also took a lot of things there and if we must we can seek shelter. I am completely alone in my house and I cannot sleep there at night anyway. It is too lonely so I go to sleep in Bully’s room when I am in the City, because I spend the evenings with Frau Reinemann anyway.

Her husband was there at Easter and I did not want to be in the way and so I went to my room at Ehreshoven. It rained heavily on the first day, but I went into the woods and spent hours walking there. I felt very lonely and wondered what would become of me. How long would things go on like this I wondered? If I were not convinced and kept convincing myself or making myself believe that I want us all to see one another again, I would not want to live. And so it goes on.

I got a letter from Röbi dated 18th March 1943. He wrote: “I have heard nothing from home since August 1942 and it is driving me crazy.” The poor lad. He says his wound is closing. I knew nothing about a wound. He has got no news from home. I write continuously and have sent him four parcels. It is unbelievable. I cannot understand it. How the poor boy must be worrying. I do not know what I can do. How can I tell you so you can get in touch with him. Kurt has promised so often to do what he can, but up to now he has had no success. To-morrow I will go to see him again to see if there is anything at all he can do. I have driven Walter crazy trying to think of anything we could do. Well, I am not going to give up hope yet. And so it goes on: the waiting, the worrying, the snow and the war.

13 May 1943

Yesterday I received the first sign of life from you for over six months. One has learned how to be patient. Röbi my dear boy, I wonder what has become of him. I thank my beloved Lord God that he did not have to endure the filth in Africa to the bitter end. Herr Rommel received for his “duties” in Africa the highest order that swine can give, a decoration with diamonds. Yes, with diamonds, the big shots have similarly rewarded themselves so that if it all goes wrong they can find somewhere in the world where they can forget their crimes in peace.

But it is a blessing that they will not be able to do that, those blackguards that are responsible for the death of our best men. But the payoff will come. The people cannot take much more. They are in fear, that’s why the propaganda machine works with all its dirty methods. The bulk of the people don’t believe it anymore.

The latest English air-raids were ghastly. Essen doesn’t exist any more and Dortmund got it. Apparently it is dreadful there. Yes, my dearest child Lotte, whether I ever see you and my dearest, dearest Röbi again lies in God’s hands. He alone will decide and I entrust myself to Him. As I wrote to you I have mixed feelings about going to Cologne, but I go there every day. It is difficult but I manage. The old man would not give me money anyway and so I ask him for nothing. He doesn’t even know about me. If I were in dire straits Walter would help me. But I will manage alone for as long as I can, because I would not feel happy asking my children for support.

So I live with old Baron Geyr and his daughter. She can be rather difficult and I would not get involved in political conversations with her. It would be too dangerous. I might betray myself. It is better as it is.

16 May 1943 Mother’s Day

I had not even thought of it until this morning, I got a letter from your father with 50 marks enclosed and a few kind words of comfort in our joint sorrow. In this we are as one. We want our beloved boy home. Dearest child Lotte, yes, do feel put to one side, but I know you are cared for but I do not know how my dear boy is, a prisoner. I know only that he is alive and that, if I live, which is a big question, given what is happening here – but coming back to Röbi, my wish is that God will have mercy and I will see him again. And to-day my child Lotte? Mother’s day, and I am alone and among strangers. I was alone here in my castle last night and this morning I am going to church then on to Cologne to see if my house is still there and towards afternoon to Reinemanns and will stay the night there. I hope nothing will happen. Dortmund, Duisburg and Essen do not exist anymore. Appalling. I saw some people who had got out on the train. They were lucky to have escaped with their bare lives. Oh! The horror in their eyes.

Here in the silent castle it is peaceful and I am always pleased when I can escape here for a few peaceful hours. Yes and so one day goes into another, in waiting and hoping that God will see fit to bring us all together again. That is my prayer on Mother’s Day.

20 May 1943

I wanted to tell you about how Mother’s Day went. After church I went to Cologne and in the afternoon I went to Frau Reinemann’s. We were alone and Frau Reinemann had baked a nice cake. My contribution was the coffee that Kurt Korsing had brought. It was wonderful on the little veranda. In the evening we had cold beer soup that Frau Reinemann had prepared. We sewed or knitted and wrote letters to our children.

The evening came and I stayed at Reinemann’s and slept in Bully’s bed, or rather I wanted to sleep, but before long the alarm sounded. Mother’s Day was over. It was about midnight and at about 2 o’clock it was over and we went to our beds, happily to be undisturbed. We wondered where the attacks had been and who would be suffering.

And ghastly was the end of this Mothers’Day for many mothers. My God, how you can punish us poor people. Two dams had been breached – the Möhne Dam and the Eder Dam. By midday 10,000 people had drowned, along with their cattle, everything was destroyed. At Mülheim on the Ruhr, people, animals and furniture were washed ashore. As the dam broke, a wall of water ten metres high tore through the villages and hamlets. It is terrible to hear the descriptions of the damage.

And the bastards write: “It is comforting to know that there are not as many injured as we had feared.” Yes Lotte and so it continues. What will follow that? Can this suffering get worse? Oh God how terribly you punish us. When will you finally show mercy?

Note by Clare Westmacott: The Möhne and Eder dams were attacked on the night of the 16 to 17 May 1943. Nineteen Lancaster bombers went on the raid to deliver the “bouncing” bombs developed by Sir Barnes Wallis with the specific intention of destroying the dams. The planes flew at a very low level over the reservoirs dropping their bombs which were designed to bounce along the surface of the water until they hit the wall of the dam then sink and explode.

After the breaching of these two dams, two planes went to attack the Sorpe Dam but although the dam wall received a direct hit it was a few inches above the water level and the dam remained intact. The number of people killed is estimated at up to 1600; it remains unclear where Klara got the figure of 10.000.

21 May 1943

I have just got the awful news that here in my silent castle there is a danger from flooding. As the English have begun to attack the dams, there must now be a risk of them attacking the Agger dam. If this happens there will be an eight minute warning and I would have to hurry into the hills.

It drives me crazy to think that I have brought so much that I love and treasure to safety only to find it was a wasted effort. I cannot bear to think about it. Up to today 30 villages have been destroyed and 40,000 people are dead. The suffering is unspeakable and who knows what else might happen. Walter has not written. He is also having a difficult time and who knows what is going to happen there in France?

6 June 1943

Today I have to write again of something terrible. In the night of Saturday to Sunday 29 to 30 May the alarm sounded at the silent castle. I was alone with the old Baron. I stood up and heard shooting in the distance. The aeroplanes were flying over us in a big formation. The defence became more and more intense. More and more planes in the formation followed one another. The sight was horrific. According to my assessment Cologne was not the target.

The fire storm was appalling. The dropping of the bombs apparently had particularly terrible consequences. The sky glowed blood red. The poor people who were caught in it. Eventually the raid was over. What had happened? We soon found out. Wuppertal was the target, and Barmen had been wiped out, as Herr Göbbels chooses to express himself so nicely.

Frau Reinemann’s home town does not exist anymore and many people suffered a terrible death that night. Frau R’s sister came and had nothing left. She said Frau R’s brother had been pulled from the rubble, charred.

She said: “I step onto charred corpses that lie in the street, I flee from the unbearable heat towards the Wupper. I saw people on fire running towards the Wupper. Mothers threw their children into the river to protect them from the fire. Then I see something unbelievably dreadful. The poor people who had jumped into the river to avoid liquid phosphor are suddenly shot at by machine guns from enemy planes.”

Pfui! (A German expression of distaste). Is that culture? Is that what the English call fair play? Poor unhappy people who lost absolutely everything, who only tried to save their lives and their children’s lives, to die in such a manner. Oh it is terrible, this war, and awful is our enemy and I will hope that God the Almighty will remember this dreadful night. (This is written in English in her manuscript).

Yes Lotte, my child. I have heard and seen terrible things. War is degenerated on both sides to such an extent that a soldier who experienced this night and fought at Stalingrad said: “In the whole of my Russian Campaign I did not witness this kind of destruction.” Yes, my darling and so one lovely town after another in our beautiful country is being destroyed and Göbbels that stupid fool says that we have victory in our grasp. The Schweinhund would rather let the whole country be wiped out than admit defeat, and so more and more sacrifices are being offered. What will happen next I wonder?

Note by Clare Westmacott: This attack on Wuppertal was the first fire storm attack in the war. The fires spread rapidly through the narrow streets and the fire fighters were not able to put out the fires. Up to 4500 people died in this attack and a later one in June. Subsequent severe firestorm attacks were made, in Hamburg in July 1943 with up to 40,000 dead and in Dresden in February 1945 with up to 25,000 dead, and there were many others but these were among the worst.

20 June 1943

Meanwhile Cologne has been attacked again. The districts of Deutz, Ehrenfeld, Kalk and Sülz are a pile of rubble again. The windows of my house are all broken. When I went there an incendiary bomb was burning itself out in the garden. If it had hit my house that would have been it! Once again I have a lot of work to have done on it. There has been damage everywhere nearby and the house opposite has been burned out. Two homeless ladies are living in my house now. Frau Oberst Coleman had got a direct hit on her house. She does not rate Hitler anymore and her praise of him is not as loud as it once was.

Whenever I come down from my retreat in the silent castle in Ehreshoven to the dreadfully damaged city I am filled with terror. I have an awful fear of what may yet come in this indescribable episode in the history of the world. When I read of the wounds this war has inflicted, of the injuries of the civilians who have endured the terror raids, those who have been burned and drowned, those who are lying crippled in the hospitals, or who have suffered from poison, then I beg my beloved Creator that if my fate is death, to make it quick.

And there is always more disaster. I had to sleep in Cologne for a few nights and every night there were alarms. I feel quite without hope. And now a few signs of the times. Coffee costs 200 marks, butter 60. A pair of stockings 20! To get a dress in the normal way is out of the question. I could do with a new coat but my old one has to be renovated over and over again. But the black marketeers as usual have everything. Their women go around in the most expensive furs which we never had. All sorts of swindles go on.

The third Nazi mayor resigns. He stole one and a half million from the citizens. Officially it is said that he had caught a disease at the frontline and therefore needs rest at a sanatorium. A new one comes and goes on stealing and the poor people have to bear it. On the other hand: I went to see a joiner to ask him to do the repairs on the house, but he told he could not take on the job because he has a thousand coffins to make. And he will not be the only one. Yes Lotte that is suffering. That is war.

Walter should be coming home on leave on July 4th, he is so ill and malnourished that they gave him leave early. I am going crazy trying to think what to get him to eat. But we are longing to see one another again. I just hope the Tommies will not be too active. I am always terrified that something might happen to him on the railway at the last minute. The attacks on the trains are more and more frequent particularly trains carrying soldiers on leave. And the bandits attack the trains.

And still, it will be lovely to have one of my own with me again. I was quite alone at Whitsuntide, always alone with only strangers. When will it all at last be over? I cannot believe I will have my loved ones close to me again. Röbi, my darling, my little Benjamin. I have not seen him for over a year and who knows how long I will have to wait. And I have not seen you for over four years. And time goes by more and more quickly, especially for me.

30 June 1943

I am hardly able to write everything down. On the night of the 28th to 29th there was an English terror attack on Cologne. What little there was has gone now. The cathedral got a direct hit, the town hall annihilated as is the Gürzenich. I was in the castle at Ehreshoven and heard and saw that dreadful raid. The sky was blood red.

I was filled with foreboding and got up early to make my way to Cologne. I only got as far as Kalk. Cologne was a sea of fire. As I left the station I saw streams of refugees, their faces swollen, their clothes in rags from the flames, and where were they going to? Just out of Cologne. Beyond that they had no idea. Some of them had nothing, others a small parcel or a suitcase. They were as though in a trance. Their eyes stared vacantly through us as they passed by.

I tried to move on to Deutz, but only got as far as the tram station and could not get any further. I spoke to an official who was keeping order. I said I wanted to go to Braunsfeld. It is impossible to get into town. Everything is on fire. No trams are going. You can’t go into town. I asked if I could use the telephones. No! There is no gas, water, or electricity, everything has been destroyed besides which there are unexploded bombs everywhere which can go off at any time. You can’t get through. I have to go to the Schildergasse where my husband had his studio, but the reply was the same, impossible. The area from the cathedral to the Neumarkt has been wiped out. Can I get in via the Heumarkt? The same laconic reply: The whole of the inner city has been destroyed. Thousands of people are dead, burned, crippled.

What could I do? Go back to where you have come from and wait. And so I went back to Kalk. In Kalk I could travel to Königsforst and once there I walked through the wood to the railway station to catch a train. I went back to Ehreshoven. Your father had left for the Black forest before this terrible night. Thank God I have not got that worry anymore. He had the right premonition.

A woman who worked at the station told me that she and her husband had walked via many diversions all the way to Bayenthal. Our house is still standing. Devastation everywhere, everything burning, what heaps are those in the street? Corpses, covered by cloth waiting to be removed.

Well, I will wait until tomorrow. The unexploded bombs will either have gone off or been removed and I will try again to get to the city centre. I wonder what will be waiting for me. How will the Reinemanns be? I tried to make contact by booking an urgent phone call, but nothing. I will have to wait.

3 July 1943

So early on the morning of the first of July I went as far as Kalk. Then on foot as far as Deutz and over the suspension bridge. Halfway across the bridge I got a view of the unhappy city. Everything was on fire, the town hall, the Stapelhaus, the cathedral, all are rubble, heaps of stones. I wept and everyone I saw, uninjured like me, was weeping.

I had to go to the Schildergasse and I got through. My God, what I saw there. Everything has been destroyed and as a result your father has lost whatever he created, his life’s work. He had gone, I was told, to the Black forest two hours before the attack. He wouldn’t have come out alive. I knew he had a lot of work in the cellar, and the cellar was still burning. I went to an official and told him that my husband’s things were in the cellar and needed to be got out. He observed, “Madam we have other priorities. The cellar is full of corpses. We have just got fifty out of the cellar next door.”

I could not do anything so I went on towards the Neumarkt and everywhere I saw the same tragic picture, then on to the opera house and from there eventually to my house in Braunsfeld. I saw so many terrible sights. Dead bodies were everywhere. Here a mother carrying her totally burned child, there a naked woman covered from top to toe with bloody scabs. Revolted I went on towards my house.

Finally I had all the gruesome sights behind me and was within my own four walls. Am I crazy or did I dream all this? Walter will be desperately anxious. We have no postal service so I cannot write. I will just have to wait. He should be home on leave from the 4th or 5th July. And then I will be living in fear of what might happen to him. His train is likely to be attacked as it will be a troop train. I made enquiries about whether and when and where he will arrive but no-one knows. However I am sure he will know to make his way to the castle.

I left the house heavily laden, because I was carrying everything I could through the city once more towards Kalk. The way there was dreadful, death everywhere. Here an unexploded bomb was being defused, there a house collapsed and buildings were on fire on all sides. A lot of people were standing and waiting at a communal kitchen for a helping of soup, holding paper cups like the ones you buy ice cream in. They were dirty, dishevelled and without hope.

I went past as quickly as I could to get to the train. I was tired enough to drop. I had so much to carry but I want to keep it. Father has nothing left, it has all been destroyed. I wonder how he will take the news. I will have to wait and see. My only hope is that we may all see one another again, but this hope is fading more and more. I passed by Aunt Lisa’s. She has had a lot damaged again. What will the future bring?

13 July 1943

Your birthday! Evening! I must admit I had forgotten your birthday. I was sitting in my room in the silent castle, Walter was with me and asked, “What is the date to-day?” “I don’t know,” I replied. “Mother I think it the 13th.” “Well if it is, it is Lotte’s birthday.” Yes, of course it truly is Lotte’s birthday. Yes my darling I have become so detached from reality. I congratulate you darling on your 31st birthday. I doubt whether I will ever be able congratulate you personally ever again.

I was so happy to receive your latest twenty five words in which you told me that you, Jack and Kinghorn were doing everything you could for Röbi. Oh, how happy I was. I cannot send him anything. Firstly we have not got anything and in any case nothing reaches him from here.

Yes, my darling what is going to happen to me in the near future? I am prepared for whatever may come. It is all quite clear. I have never had any illusions. We, the poor people will have to pay the price again and will have at the same time to bear the huge guilt. And it is becoming ever higher. When will they finally realise that the sacrifice of our very best is useless. The last attack alone on Cologne cost 100,000 lives. And it goes on. The sights one sees are indescribable.

18 July 1943

I was in town again. A wall of the house has cracked after the last air-raid. The window in my room has completely fallen in, the glass, frame and everything. I do not think the house can last out much longer. All the windows are broken but thank goodness it is summer. God alone knows what will happen in winter.

I wanted to go to the house. Thank God the buses are running again. They are Berlin Omnibuses which run every five minutes, but only as far as the Neumarkt and from there the trams are running again. Walter and I had to walk from Rath-Heumar to Braunsfeld. It took five hours, through unexploded bombs and collapsed houses. It is gruesome. I could hardly go on, I had blisters on my feet, we were hungry but there was nothing to eat and so we just had to manage. A horse and cart gave us a ride and we were happy when we had Cologne behind us and were safely back in the silent castle, in our green solitude. Aunt Lisa has lost her house and has gone to the Tyrol. And so one after the other everyone gets their turn to suffer!

21 July 1943

Walter had to leave again. It was so hard for us to part. He consoled me, “Mother we will see one another again. It will soon be over,” he said. If only that were true! I took him into town. He had to travel not on the direct route but via many diversions. Aachen has been badly hit. The night after he left I heard to my terror that the railway in Belgium had been attacked. I just hope Walter has got through safely. If only I could hear from him. One lives in constant fear for one’s loved ones.

26 July 1943

My birthday. This morning I heard on the radio that Mussolini resigned. The king has taken over the government. The war goes on. Is there any hope? At last there is a glimmer of light. Hopefully Germany’s shame will soon be at an end and that mass murderer and his entire gang will depart. But how long is that going to take?

The Americans and English are now in Sicily and hopefully the Italians will soon realise that to go on fighting is pointless and choose peace. Perhaps Germany will realise that this is the only way and at last there will be freedom, with what we need to live and to work. If only these parasites could be removed so that they cannot suck the blood of the people any longer, if they could soon be eradicated. Yesterday Hamburg suffered the most dreadful air raid. How many people will have been sacrificed there I wonder?

Note by Clare Westmacott: Mussolini didn’t resign as the Germans were told and as Klara writes. There had been mass strikes in Milan and Turin where the workers had demonstrated for bread, peace and freedom. The Allies had landed in Sicily on July 10th and in a meeting of the Fascist Council on the night of 24-25 July a resolution was passed. On the evening of the 25th the king dismissed Mussolini. He was taken prisoner by the new Italian government under Badoglio.

6 August 1943

Hamburg has ceased to exist so an acquaintance with relatives in Hamburg told me. There were nine attacks in seven days by the RAF. The people told of the most terrible things. We ourselves have only just got over the last attacks. Who knows when it will be our turn again. I have heard nothing from Walter and less from Röbi, and so I am totally alone, among strangers. My only friend is the beautiful woodland with whom I can share my sorrow and my fears.

Today I got home, or rather to my room very tired. It is too early to go to bed and so I will go on writing. I have been working for several days with the farmers, knitting. I have been working so that I can have some milk and a few eggs or potatoes and vegetables. They are my payment for the work, and as I also eat with them while I am there and I need not worry on those days. Yes darling it has gone so far that I have to knit to get something to eat.

Nevertheless there are plenty of people who would be happy to have my worries. What is going to come? Some say that it is nearly over and there must be a solution, or at least a change. One hears so much, but still it goes on, the same sense of hopelessness.

Sicily has been nearly completely taken from the Italians. They have had enough, their government can go to hell but still the people, like us, have to go on fighting and bleeding for a couple of criminals. How long before the whole of Italy shakes off the yoke?

Biba told me a story about a holder of the Knight’s Iron Cross. Which casts the first glimmer of light on resistance. Recently in Lindenthal the following happened. A young soldier who had received the Knight’s Iron Cross in the east came home on leave and arrived in Cologne. The station was decorated with garlands. He sees this and asks himself, “What can be going on?” He does not imagine it could be for him. All the big-shots, Grohe, Ley and a procession with the Lord Mayor are there to receive him. Only his beloved old parents are not there.

He is then taken in a very ostentatious procession to Lindenthal where his simple home is. Here he is greeted once again by local dignitaries, but no sign of his parents. At his home all the furniture had been removed by the big-shots and it all been replaced by furniture according to their taste. They had brought food to eat, such as we have not seen for years: butter, roast joints, wines, liqueurs, champagne, coffee, cakes. All of which the big-shots regard as normal fare.

The young man asked more urgently for his parents and refused to eat the food without them, adding that he wasn’t used to this kind of food anymore. He went out to ask the neighbours about his parents and when he returned the big-shots, deeply offended, had left. Then friends and neighbours came and later his parents who had been made to get out of the way and the celebrations began.

Next day the big-shots’ henchmen came to remove everything. The Knight’s Iron Cross man told them they should try to and they would see what he would do with them. So off they went, not daring to get into a fight with him. The young man with his friends and family spent another three weeks of good life until all supplies were gone. You see even now in Germany there are good things to be had but only for big shots. The young man did our hearts good. He is a decent, principled young man.

12 August 1943

My Saint Day and also that of my little granddaughter! Well, Klaerchen, I congratulate you on your Saint Day and I hope you are having a happy day in your lovely England, while I in my poor beloved Germany hope to celebrate better Saint’s Days with my loved ones. Will it ever happen I ask myself? Well, at least we are still here to hope!

And so I am sitting in the room in my silent castle and wait to see how things will develop. In Sweden an important agreement with Hitler has been cancelled. The result is that our army in Norway is completely cut off if they won’t try to get in contact with their motherland via the sea route. And that will be the death of many decent soldiers. But what does that mass murderer care about our soldiers? To him they are just means to an end.

Churchill is in Canada for discussions. What will be discussed? I can imagine. In any case these discussions will bring us nearer to the end of the war. No matter how! If only I had my children home. I am indifferent to everything else. We have in any case lost everything and will have to work until we die. And for that we have to thank our Führer and his gang.

Some local news. The air raid shelter at the Cathedral. One day I was near the Cathedral when the alarm sounded so I went into the shelter there. It is amazing, a little city down there. There are whole families who live down there. They eat and sleep there. Others came in because of the alarm. They had everything they possessed in prams and all kinds of possible and impossible wheeled contraptions.

I walk around in my unrest. How many poor, innocent hungry little children have got to bear the blame for those who have brought all this suffering into the world. And so I was thinking about this whilst up above the Tommies once again went about their business. I saw the mothers hugging and protecting their children who cried at the sound of every explosion.

I too felt frightened. I begged God Almighty to put an end to our punishment and after a while it becomes quiet. After a long time the all clear sounds. And outside it looked dreadful! I thanked God once again that we had been spared. Or has He something else planned for us? Thy will be done.

Still on my Saint Day. I am suddenly torn from my thoughts. What is happening? Aeroplanes! And so many! My God these are enemies indeed! And in broad daylight! And now the flak is starting. It is a real air raid. Later on I get to know that Bonn-Beuel and Troisdorf were hit. Not even during daytime can we feel safe.

After that I went by train as far as Honrath and then on foot across open fields to Oberschönrath. I have to do some knitting in order to have some eggs, vegetables and milk. I pay well for what I get. Later I came home and now I am sitting here writing this as my Saint Day slips away. I think of you and yours. I think of my beloved Röbi who no longer writes and of Walter far away in France, of your father who has had to suffer so much recently and is sitting lonely in the Black Forest, each of us feeling their own longing and yet the same – for a happy reunion. And so I finish my Saint Day with a plea to my creator. And that is that one day we shall all see one another again.

5 September 1943

It has been a long time since I have been in touch. But what should I write? That butter costs 50 marks a pound, coffee 260 and sugar cannot be bought at any price. Or that I have got a bucket up at the farmers full of potatoes which I peel for them in exchange for some milk. I try to make the women at the farm like me by working, so I will get some flour at harvest time. This is all not very important but it is part of my life.

Today is Sunday and this morning I went to Cologne, to go home to see if everything is all right. There is a lot of theft. Unbelievable things have happened in Cologne. Well anyway I went from Deutz to Braunsfeld. I see people working, on the so-called day of rest. They were working to make the roads passable again. They were forced to. Then I went home.

It is all so terrible, I am glad when I leave. Everything reminds me of you, it upsets me there, I could not stay there alone and so I am relieved when I reach my retreat in the silent castle. It was bathed in sunlight in its beautiful surrounding and its peacefulness is a balm for the spirit. The Baron G. came along and asked me to go for a walk. He was alone as well, his daughter had been invited out.

I agree gladly. We go into the woods and the solitude there is wonderful. In spite of the sun I can feel the impending autumn. It is all dreamily quiet. We walk on through the farm land and thank God for the beauty of His countryside and think how wonderful it would be without people.

And then suddenly the sound of the air raid warning brings us back to reality. Every night there are alarms and even though Cologne and the whole western region has been almost completely destroyed there is still plenty left to destroy . We have reached the fifth year of war. Italy is the main theatre of war now. The invasion has begun, every day there is more news.

Berlin is now getting what we have had to endure. The poor people will continue to suffer and will have to pay for the crimes of a handful of criminals; will have to see their youth bleed and die, their families murdered every night from air raids, and the fruits of their life’s work destroyed in a twenty minute air attack. They are left with what they wear on their bodies, depend on the mercy of their fellow human beings who, it is sad to say, don’t understand the misery and treat them like beggars.

And in spite of everything the war goes on because those swine still cannot see that they are finished, and would rather let the whole population bleed and die than admit the truth. And in spite of nearly dying from longing there still is no hope that we will see each other.

And now for some good news. A letter and two cards have come through from Röbi, one of them for Walter. He is safely in Canada and far away from the war and that is a comfort, for although he is far away from me, at least he is not in this hell.

We must bite the sour apple and accept that we will not see each other for a long time. Now Walter is in danger and in his last letter it was clear how very unhappy he is. He says they have no food and every German in France is hated so much he is in danger of having his throat cut. If only he could get out.

He is not strong, all those years of bad food have damaged him. He cannot withstand the hardship. The doctors have established he is suffering from undernourishment, vitamin deficiency. He has holes in his legs and feet. I can do nothing to help him. If I send anything it gets stolen. If he would only spend his money on some food and eat whatever he can get, but instead it goes on books or other nonsense and he eats bad bread. If only I had him at home it would be better for him.

And now about people of our time. I am sitting in the tram and a very elegant woman gets on, about your age. Although I did not know her I thought I had seen her before. Well she looks at me and sits opposite me. God, the woman is elegant. Well elegant, but over fed. She must be a black marketeer’s wife. I had to keep on looking at her; she had so much jewellery and the finest stockings.

She can only be a big-shot’s tart. Even ladies don’t have any stockings at all today, let alone ones of this quality. Somehow I know the cow, but who can she be? She tells me herself, “Frau Professor. Don’t you know me?” Do I, don’t I? But where from! Well she made it clear for me. It was Alice F., and she stood there in front of me, full of arrogance, like when I turned my back on her and didn’t take any more notice of her. We spoke a few words and then I had to get off anyway.

It was really curiosity about her that made me mention it to the Reinemanns. Herr Reinemann told me all about her. Her husband is a war profiteer of first rank. He is a leather goods trader. After the removal of the Jews his ship really came in and the war has brought more and more. They earn pots of money. Madame lives in the house in the country. Their town house is empty. She says her husband is in the field. So the war suits this kind of rubbish and they will be hoping it could go on for ever.

He founded the F.-company. One of the members, an SS swine, is a lawyer who in normal times would never have got a case. His wife finds it hard to get a joiner to build a new cupboard for her fifty pairs of shoes. Whilst our poor people have nothing!

Other acquaintances Mr and Mrs Z. They are also people who will hope for the war to go on and on. For they are living in peace and comfort in Rumania and want for nothing. He is the director of a company vital for the war effort. Still, hopefully it will soon be getting very uncomfortable there in Rumania for them. He is a great Heil Hitler fan. Anyway Frau F. has got it all worked out. If it all goes wrong she will refer to her Belgian origin and has a sister who is married to an English man so she will just change sides and carry on as before. These people…

Bully has been home on holiday and went back in great fear. Who knows what is going to happen. One thing is sure, the fighting will continue, and so will the corruption.

25 September 1943

Today is Röbi’s twenty third birthday. There is going to be a Mass said for the Veterans of the Africa Corps who are in Canada, in the little chapel of the silent castle. I wish my beloved boy what I am wishing for myself: our reunion in health and joy. And for that I will pray wholeheartedly. Today we will all, father, Walter, you and I be with him in spirit and we will all be praying to have him home in good health.

I will not complain. God Almighty has fulfilled my wish and kept him safe until now and if He will take Walter under His protection I will withstand everything.

I do not worry so much about you Lotte. You were always able to take care of yourself and I know you will understand my feelings. I hope one day fate will smile on us and make everything all right so we can all be together, and I hope that as long as I live we are never separated again. That is my prayer to my God. I wrote to Röbi today so he will realise his mother’s thoughts were with him on his birthday however far away.

3 October 1943

Harvest Festival. Dr Goebbels, that swine, has said, “We are more than ever determined that we will go on fighting until we win.” Well of course the bigshots have so much to lose. Everything! Their wealth! Their heads! God, when will that be, how long will it be? Nobody thinks it can go on, but this monster, this misbegotten creature lets the people go on and on suffering.

I have less and less hope. Our soldiers bleed and die in increasing numbers in Russia, in Italy, and this band of criminals still holds the people in its grip. I am more and more hopeless. When and how will things change? Walter writes of how unhappy he is. He has simply nothing: no food and no care. He simply is unable to be a profiteer and can therefore not get anything by these means. I wish I could have him here. Day and night the aeroplanes come over. They are like swarms of wasps. Last night there were hundreds of them in Hagen. My God how will it end? And still that beast speaks of holding out.

17 October 1943

All kinds of things have been going happening. Alarms! Attacks! Need! Death! Walter wrote again. He is very depressed. He would so much like to be here and I have to say I wish he could be with me. I would have one of my own with me. I am constantly alone among strangers. I try to suppress the depression I feel but the negative feelings keep on coming back.

Röbi wrote me a card in which he told me that you have made contact with him. Thank God. Perhaps you can get something to him. Ah Lottechild how thankful I am that you are good to your brother. At the same time he wrote that he had heard nothing from home. The poor boy! He wrote, “Soon I will not write anymore.” I am perplexed. I write over and over again and the poor boy receives nothing. This morning I am going to go to the Red Cross. I went there immediately on receipt of his card, but for POWs you have to go somewhere else so now I am going there.

This week I lifted potatoes with the farmers so that this winter I will have potatoes. For everything you have either to work or exchange. In order to make the coalman co-operative I gave him a bottle of Cognac. So now I will get coal. That is how it is here. Nothing can be obtained in the normal way. Coffee costs 250 marks a pound. Butter 50 marks per pound and a pair of poor stockings 15 marks. But you can still get things only with cunning and skill.

The war goes on, inside and out. The big-shots fear for their lives. The people are unhappy but dare not do anything against the criminals. Anyone who says anything is eliminated. Heads roll. Informers are everywhere. And how is it going to end? Day and night there are attacks from our enemy. The people will continue to bleed and die before they will rise against this pestilence. God Almighty how much longer will you let this go on?

Note by Clare Westmacott: My father applied to the British Authorities to send some of his old winter clothes to Röbi in Canada but the application was refused.

5 November 1943

Well Lotte once again it is more than a month since I last wrote anything. I had a lot to deal with. Yesterday I went from Ehreshoven to Cologne, had to get out at Deutz and the Hohenzollern bridge was closed again. The station and with it the cathedral have been hit again. Gradually bit by bit our lovely cathedral is being ruined and the Lord God sits and lets it happen. The station has been hit and also a lot of the suburbs. Düsseldorf has been badly hit as well.

But now to my biggest worry. These days it is Walter. He is in France and so much is happening in France. The French are very hostile against us. They will not let any German go whether they are innocent or guilty. In their eyes every German is a swine. Yes, and Walter is sitting in the middle of all of this when it starts. I have made a request to his commanding officer to allow Walter to have duties in Cologne so that in his free time he can look after his parents as in the recent attacks his father has lost everything. I do not know if it will work or not.

Your father is still in the Black Forest. He wrote urgently to me to ask me to go and check the cellar of his studio in the Schildergasse and see if everything is still there. He had heard that they are tearing down the ruins. I went and arrived just as the next door house was being blown up. With a great deal of difficulty I got permission from the authorities to hire a wagon and two political prisoners were provided to help me and at great risk we got the things out that had not been destroyed.

I asked the leader of the two what sort of people they were. “What sort of people?” he said, “Where they are now is where we can be the day after tomorrow”. They were fine people and they had no other fault than to have spoken the truth. They were terribly hungry and although I had nothing myself I gave them anyway, I begged some scraps from acquaintances for them and gave them for their work 50 marks and made them happy for half a day.

Well Lotte, that is what it is like here. Then I arranged for your father’s things to be taken to the house and wait for what might happen. So I have rescued things for your father that he had kept hidden from me. Sometimes things turn an unexpected way. If I only had your brother Walter out of that danger. It is dangerous here but at least we would be together, particularly as neither of us has anyone otherwise. Walter is now much more grown up now, he has been through a lot, and even if his old self emerges once in a while he turns friendly soon, admits his fault and we are good again.

I wish I was not alone all the time, always among strangers. I could never feel close to your father again. If need be, I would do everything for him, but he would mean nothing to me. I cannot forget everything he has done, how joyless he made my life, begrudging me everything. How different it would be if in this terrible time we could find some common ground, could get some comfort from nicer memories. If he could only have had some consideration for us. I might have had you beside me during this terrible time.

But no! Let it be as it will, if you had stayed here you might now already be a widow. I think it will soon be at an end, but how? Everyone says over and over again that we will have to win before we see our young men again. If only that were possible. I have to see how I can contact you, how with the 25 words we are allowed I can try to make you understand that you have to try to get Röbi to England. It seems impossible but I have to try. I cannot believe our enemy could be so cruel, I don’t want to believe it. What has the German people done to deserve such suffering?

11 November 1943

Once again the cathedral has been hit in an attack. After having been closed for days, today we can go into the cathedral again. After the terror attack on the 29 July it was too dangerous to go in. There was so much damage it was closed except for a small corner where mass could be read. Now, after more attacks, it has been declared safe for the general public to enter.

So I went in. It is disturbing to see it. I made my way through the rubble and saw the wonderful organ hanging off the wall, burned. In the same corner was the Black Madonna which they had brought from the ruined church in the Kupfergasse. They must have taken her from there in time, everything there is ruined.

I went on through the cathedral, past the bishops’ vault and through the choir towards the treasure chamber. Everything was rubble, and it is certain that even if the Tommies don’t destroy this work of wonder, the endless shocks would, and what 700 years of culture have created will be destroyed by a furious war.

Yes, it is terrible to think about it but an old prophecy might come true that of this miracle only a small tower will remain standing. Yes, I do believe it is true, the destruction goes on. We get alarms and attacks day and night. How can the people withstand this and not go crazy? But whether they want to or not, they have to go on without choice, to the last man. Well they must go on, or lose their heads. It makes no difference to him if it is a hundred heads as he said in a recent speech.

29 November 1943

Once again it has been a time since I wrote anything. There has been one terror attack after another. Berlin is now getting what we have so often had, five big attacks. It must be dreadful there and still they say the same thing. “We must carry on, we must endure it; we must win.” How else could it be? So many people have a lot to lose and if the war is lost they will be finished. And the big shots know that it will be the end of their rule. And for that reason the people will continue to bleed and be offered as sacrifice.

And now to something else! At the beginning of November I came down from Ehreshoven and into our house to have a look at everything and in the letter box was a card with the following contents. “I have returned from an English POW camp as an exchange POW where I was with your son, indeed in his billet. Your son sends greetings, he is well, and he is healthy. If you would like to know more I am at your disposal.”

I went there but he had left that morning for Berlin, where his parents were, but as he had to return to the army he would be back in fourteen days. You can imagine how I counted the days and after various problems I finally got to see him. He said that Röbi was well and that he was allowed to work as an artist and they have given him a studio to work in.

They have a theatre, and he designs the sets and then decorates them. Everyone likes him although, as the young man said, he is definitely not cut out to be a soldier! “Well,” I said, “He is cut out to be an artist and for that I am glad.” I was pleased it turned out this way. As God wills it Röbi is safe and protected and we will see one another again.

I have not heard anything from Walter for ages and today I sent him a Christmas parcel. I hope the poor boy gets it. It has taken days and days to get some butter which costs fifty marks a pound and sugar which costs eight to ten marks a pound, so you can imagine how much the biscuits have cost.

I hear little from your father. I wrote to tell him I had got his things out. He is still in the Black Forest and that is the way it is. I have written to him often to suggest that he should come home and sort his things out. He will have to do this himself, but he protects his valuable life. I do not want any of the things. I would be pleased if he had done it for you, but there you are. I have protected what I could, but it hurts to think of all the things being scattered all over town.

I live here among strangers who are in fact good to me, but nonetheless they are not my own family. I live as if I was one of them, but I remain an outsider. In me lives only one longing and that is for you three. Throughout these four years I have lived in fear for one of you. Fear for Röbi, fear for Walter, fear for Lotte.

Today my fears are for Walter and for you. Walter has not written for so long and it is terrible there in France just like at the front. The terrorists there are so dangerous. As dangerous as the Partisans in the east . And now one hears increasingly that soon we will be starting on England. The pay back will begin. And when I hear what they are planning, my heart stands still, because then you will be in danger. Until now I have not been concerned about you as you have not been in mortal danger, but if the terrible threat should come true, then I would not be able to believe in a reunion any longer. If we were not to see one another again, all of us, if one was missing, life would have no further value for me.

But I will hope and pray to God that these cruelties will not happen. Yes Lotte I have become so apathetic, I did not even remember your Saint Day this year. The day passed and then later I thought with melancholy of all the years we were together. Now Christmas is upon us. I dread it and wish it were already over. I think of my loved ones in all parts of the earth who will like me be thinking with love and longing in our hearts for one another and I ask myself how much more longing and sorrow we will have to endure.

22 December 1943

Berlin is now experiencing what we have for so long experienced. Terror raid after terror raid! There have been terrible scenes there. In the Cafe Fatherland, the meeting place for so many people who wanted to enjoy an exciting life, there were apparently so many corpses that they had to dispose of them by throwing them into the river Spree. Isn’t that gruesome?

Then on the other hand, whilst our people bleed and die and our young men languish in POW camps the corruption of our big shots and their henchmen goes on. Herr O., one of these swine, cannot like others go into military service because of a stomach illness. The poor man, he drowns his sorrows in drink but not in the pubs, that would be too dangerous, but within his four walls.

He has a flourishing hair salon through which he operates a black market business and deals in oriental carpets and fur coats and enjoys the protection of the senior big-shots. It was so obvious that he had to pay 120.000 Marks because of tax evasion, which he can easily afford. He enjoys the protection of the top big shots Grohe, Winkelnkemper and others.

And so it goes on, and this is just one case of many. None of the business men gets sent to the front. They make illegal profits from everything, get protection and our poor boys fight and die and so does their homeland.

And now I will give you some news about my contemporaries surrounding me. As I have already written I am alone in Braunsfeld without shelter and almost every night there are terrible attacks and Walter begged me to get out of Cologne at least at night. By chance I met Baron G. and his daughter. I told them about my situation and as their rooms were being confiscated they asked me to come and live with them. I agreed and so I came to Schloss Ehreshoven and live in a large rented room.

I managed to bring up here a lot of linen, silver, porcelain and paintings that were either of value or dear to me, and our clothes. And now I am about to get at least one of our living rooms here. I recognise that I shall have to act. There is no alternative. Your father does not care about anything, not even his own things. He sits in the Black Forest and his letters are full only of complaints.

I work with the farmers a lot so I can always get something to eat which otherwise would be out of reach and I can often get enough to take something for acquaintances. I have got Frau Reinemann’s linen, clothes and silver up here as well as Bully’s trousseau. Nearly every day I go to Cologne to check on everything. As I have said I can manage and can often give something to others. I knit, mend clothes and even helped with the harvest, so that I will have my potatoes for the winter. There is nothing in the city and I have to try to keep the Reinemanns supplied with potatoes.

And now to bring my surroundings a bit closer to you I will begin with the Baron. He is an old man of seventy nine years of age who lives here together with his daughter. They come from ancient aristocracy and are therefore very degenerate. He is completely senile and has told me the same stories a thousand times. It can drive you crazy, especially when you have your own worries. And then I say, “Baron I have not got the slightest interest in you past life,” so I just get up and leave him alone which he doesn’t like and soon he is quiet again.

These people have never worked and always seem to manage to get some kind of position. In his case he was the mayor of some little town in the Hunsrück, and after some kind of incident was able to retire early with a pension and he gets money for which others have to work. He is a great believer in Adolph Hitler who he believes that will place the old aristocracy onto its throne again when the war is over.

And for that reason he rails against the English and the Jews. However I am sure he is too dumb to realise what he is shouting. Apart from that he chops wood which makes him tired, and stuffs himself when he gets something. A dumb old fool, in the real meaning of that word. And now the daughter. She is a spinster of about forty two or three. She has affairs with a lot of married men. Apparently they have more skill! I have to say that they have both been good to me, even though I made clear that I was no follower of Hitler and often put a damper on their enthusiasm. Still we are good friends.

They know very well what to expect from me and I am good to them and can do her some favours so she is happy to have me there. Well anyway one day she came and opened her heart to me. What these people think regarding love even made me, an old experienced woman blush. Well anyway I listened whilst she told me that she was desperate to have a child. It did not really matter by whom, although preferably it would be by her lover, a captain in the Luftwaffe, a party member and adventurer who has a wife whom he is betraying.

From time to time she travels to Munich to work on the child and comes home only to be disappointed. She showed me a photograph and I told her what I thought. She did not like that. And then her arrogance along with her depravity. She had told Walter that the blood of three kings flows in her veins and then in his cynical way he put her right. But she would do it with anyone.

That is degeneracy for you plus their Heil shouting and I have to mix with such filth. They have beautiful old things but everything is dirty. The old man never washes, takes snuff and is so filthy I can hardly bear to shake his hand. But then on the other hand, when I get back from Cologne they are so pleased to see me so that they are not so alone. Another thing, their honesty; they would never take anything of mine so I can leave everything, nothing would be taken.

So you see there are pros and cons. But I remain lonely, always alone. I am simply not the same as they are. May the Lord God soon allow the war to be at an end so I can be with my own again. With Walter, who for all his eccentricities is an outstanding man who cares with all his love for his family, with Röbi with his artistic gift and love of life and attachment to us, then you, even though you have your own family who have all your love. Nevertheless your parents and brothers have a place in your heart and for that I am glad.

And then to Jack, “the Good”. I can see him now with his honest blue eyes and laughing mouth promising, “Mutti, Klärchen, I take care of Lotte. I promise you.” And I believe him and trust that when the bitter time is over we can all sit together and talk about our experiences. And I will think, “They are my own whom I love and for whom I live and fight.”

Yes darling I could go on and on about my surroundings but not now. Maybe later one day. Recently there have been several terror attacks in Berlin and as I hear it is no longer the biggest city of the continent but a heap of stones The Russian offensive goes on and as I hear from people home on leave the situation is getting blacker and blacker. In the west you will soon visit us, something is going on. Let come what may. My conscience is clear. If it is God’s will, He will protect me and my children.

27 December 1943

It is Christmas Eve. I hear nothing from anyone. Frau Reinemann invited me to spend Christmas with them. I am going on Christmas Day. After that I will go to my castle. So I spent Christmas Eve with the Baron and his daughter. In the afternoon we went to visit the grave of the baroness’ mother. We went through the lovely woodland with the dog we all feed. The daughter had brought a small Christmas tree for the grave and then we walked back the long way round, arriving home tired and hungry.

I gave my coffee. We had been allotted fifty grams, and she gave her Stollen and we kept warm by the fire. We each became lost in thought. Then my mind wandered. My thoughts flew to England, Canada, France. In each country one heart would be filled with longing thoughts of home, of parents. And I was sitting here and your father in another place. With all the power of my heart I begged God to protect us and to give us the strength to keep going until we are reunited. And so the evening passed.

The next day we went to Mass, and then I went to Cologne. In exchange for knitting for the farmers I had earned a duck, gave my food coupons and took some milk so I could share the celebration meal with the Reinemanns with a good conscience. We were alone and as it was also Frau Reinemann’s birthday we celebrated with food, wine and Sekt and for a few hours we could forget the burden of the times.

I stayed the night and next day I went back to Ehreshoven where I was happily greeted by the old Baron, who was alone, his daughter was away for a few days to visit friends. I stayed with him and gave him his food in the evening, as Helene, the maid, works on an hourly basis and is absent often. And so everyday life was resumed and the Tommies and the Yankees flew in merrily and started their damage again.

Then we heard of another terror attack on Berlin. I am amazed that there can still be anything left to destroy in Berlin. I would have thought it would be just a pile of stones by now. And so we come to the end of another year full of pain in which so many people have lost their homes, so much blood has been spilled, so many children have become orphans, so many women widows and so many parents lost their children.

This terrible year comes to an end and the new one begins. What will it bring? Will it be the longed for peace? Or will it bring more sorrow and horrors to us poor plagued people?

1 January 1944

New Year 1944. So now we have 1944. What will it bring? Hopefully, the longed for peace! I spent New Year’s Eve with the Reinemanns again. I did not really want to go. I thought there would be air raids, especially as Christmas had been so quiet. I arrived in the afternoon, it was raining and I felt very low. I guessed Frau Reinemann was in the bath. I was not in a hurry to go into the sitting room so I chatted to Elfriede who grinned at me. I could not stop myself from saying to her “Why are you grinning at me in such a dumb way?” She irritated me so much.

She kept grinning and I go into the sitting room. And who greets me there? It is Bully! I cry out with pleasure and we hug one another. She had managed to get some time off. Her boss was in a good mood and had allowed her some time at home. The joy of parents and daughter was enormous and some of it was passed on to me. And so we awaited the New Year, eating and drinking. Bully is in Brussels and with the catastrophic situation on the trains it must have been very difficult for her to get here. Yet she would do it every week if she could.

Once again I was not in my own home with my own children and my mind wandered to my own, dearly beloved children, to my Lottchen, to my good dear Walter who will be longing for his mother as he is also alone or among strangers awaiting the new year, to my most dearly beloved Röbi with his dear face, with his loving eyes. I can hear his deep warm voice saying “Mutti I love you so much.” I hear you saying “Do you love me Mutti, am I your darling?” I hear my good Walter saying “Mutti how glad I am that I have you, I love you. You, Röbi, and Lottchen are the only people that I love with all my heart.”

This all went through my head and we talked about everything, our sorrows, our hopes and our fears and so we waited for the New Year. Then it came and we drank to ourselves, we kissed, and we thought of you, knowing that your thoughts were with us as we were one in our wishes. This is how we greeted 1944.

We made figures out of lead. Bully poured a landed aeroplane and hoped it meant that Harald would soon be home for ever. I poured an island and without hesitation they all said what I thought. The island was England whence will come only goodness for me. I hope so. And so we spent the night talking and went to bed very tired and woke late. After a good breakfast I set off for Ehreshoven once again to my silent castle. Yes! And now the New Year begins.

18 January 1944

It began with worry. I have not heard a word from Walter since the eleventh of December. Today I wrote to his brigade headquarters. I dread the reply. Could he be ill? Or even worse could he have said something? That would be dreadful. Dear God protect him. I live day and night under this pressure, waiting for the morning during the night, waiting for a letter, but always in vain. I am terrified of going to Cologne before the postman comes out of fear of missing his letter. What can have happened to him? He is in the thick of it in the West.

This is how one is worn down by this terrible time. Will we live through it? Here there is happening so much, but still always the same and it is not worth writing about suffering all the time. One is always hoping that soon things will change but the suffering continues. If only I had news of Walter. What can be the matter?

2 February 1944

I had hardly written to the brigade headquarters when a letter arrived from Walter, the longed for letter. Thirty eight pages long! Thank God, he is, considering the circumstances, in good health. It is a comprehensive letter with all the joys and sorrows of living in a foreign, in an enemy country. Really the letter is a diary, which could hardly be more interesting. I keep all his letters so that you and Röbi can share in our experiences one day.

Walter does not only write about his many negative experiences, he lets me also share his pleasures which he writes about in his witty way. It is different with your father. No letter arrives from him which isn’t oppressive, which doesn’t bring me stress. I let him know straightaway that he had got a grandson. Not a single word of pleasure. A letter was sent to him from England in error. He sent it unopened to me as if to say, “This does not interest me”.

His letters are only complaints. We all have reason to complain but what purpose is served by complaining and grumbling. Complaining and grumbling are what your father does so well that I do not want to open his letters. How nice it would be if I could go and say, “Robert, it is all so difficult I can hardly go on” and would hear him say, “Hush. It will all soon be different.” For God’s sake, how can I even begin to think that it could be possible, that he could give me comfort. He feels no pity. He feels no love. All he can do is grumble; a litany of complaints and grumbles. It is so bad you can get quite frightened.

He sits down there in the Black Forest lonely but that is how he wanted it. We have lost nearly everything but so have thousands of others. But for him it is particularly dreadful as – in his eyes – I got so much from him. In fact I never really knew what we, or rather he, had. He alone knew that so it is not so bad for me as it is for him to have lost these things. Even now he has not bothered to find out what he has lost.

Walter wrote to say he was getting leave and would be home already in fourteen days. And that is a reason for me to be really happy. And now it is only twelve days and so I count the days until the day arrives. I have not got a bed for him yet but that will have to be arranged. I wanted to get a couch for him but I have not yet got anything. Walter will come and he has nothing to wear. I don’t know what to do.

There is nothing to be had except in exchange, and where would I get things I could exchange. The cobbler and the tailor will only be paid in coffee, fat, or other unavailable goods. I have knitted and darned for the farmers to get some fat which I will save and similarly my meat and smoking coupons, so I will have some food for the poor boy when he comes, I have hoarded flour and so I have a few things so that we can enjoy the time together.

Today I am sending your father some biscuits that I baked yesterday. It took one and a half hours to walk to the farmers to do some mending to get some milk and eggs. Your father had sent me some butter, so I walked one and a half hours back. I will send them by Express so he will have them soon. He would never do it for me and I would never tell him how difficult it is for me. He would not appreciate it and he has no idea how difficult life is for most people, no, only he is bothered whilst he sits there in the Black Forest.

You write that you are all well and still together. That is lovely but you have still not told me the name of your son. Well maybe I will know one day, who knows maybe I will even get to see him. Maybe! But when? Slowly one has lost the ability to look forward to pleasure. The daily struggle to get so little and fear for the unknown to come let everything that used to be important shrink.

Anyway I am pleased that you are well and together. You write about Röbi as though you have made contact with him. Röbi writes the opposite. Maybe it is just due to some delay and by now he has received everything and the poor boy is just happy to know that all his loved ones think of him. My dearest beloved little Röbi, my dear good Lottchen, my child, my good Walter, my only friend who is writing the most wonderful letters leaving out nothing. When will I see my beloved three children again? Only God the Almighty knows the answer.

5 February 1944

Well it looks as though Walter will soon be coming. He thinks it will be on the fifteenth of February. It is really good news. Nevertheless I wish he were here already. He wrote to me, “Dear mother, can you try to get me something to wear. I haven’t got a thing anymore.” That is typical Walter. Other people steal whatever they can. He cannot even get what he is entitled to, the donkey. Through trading I have actually got a good suit; it is English material. I had got it for my Röbi.

Walter will have to have it and when Röbi comes I will have to get him something. Well the suit is too big for Walter, Jack’s size, and it will have to be altered. That is not so simple. Which tailor will do the work? Eventually I found one in Engelskirchen. The man will not do it for regular payment, only it if I give him coffee as well. It costs 400 marks a pound now and then I must pay for the alteration, more than I would have paid for the whole suit, material and all. What is more I will have to unpick it before he will take it on. Yes darling I will be pleased once the poor boy has got it.

Yes, these are prices today and this is how you have to please people. If I did not need practically nothing for myself I could not do it. Since the beginning of November your father has not sent me any money. He never was keen on parting with his money.

Here there are more and more day light air raids. Yesterday I was in Cologne. I had hardly got to the house before the alarm went off. I had a lot to do and I thought I might as well take a chance here. And then it started. Above us came a wave after wave of aeroplanes and then the flak. It was like being in hell. I really thought I would not get out alive.

After an hour the provisional clear sounded and I set out for the station to get to my train to the silent castle. I had hardly set off before it started again and I went into a shelter. So many people were there. I think this will become interesting, we hear firing like mad. Then it was quiet, on my way to the station I went through this for two hours. And even when I was on the train I knew I was still in danger. But God Almighty had protected me once again and later I heard that there had been terrible raids on Frankfurt.

16 February 1944

Since I last wrote I have once again had a letter from you. Well you say your son is fabulous. Mothers know best and why should my daughter not have a fabulous son. I have fabulous children. Take Röbi for example. I hope your son will be just like my son. And I must not forget Walter. He is wonderful too. He has a hard time with all this starving and suffering as he is not a black marketeer who would exploit other people’s distress.

And then my beloved Röbi. I know he has been through a great deal and probably through a lot I do not know about. And you my dearest Lottchen even though you have your own family and are safe there are those who deserve your love even though separated by hatred, land and sea because of this bitter war, your parents, your brothers. I know we are the cause of worry for you and how often you must have been and will be afraid for us and have prayed to God Almighty who up to now has taken us into his care and protection and will do so in the future and will reunite us.

At the moment I am ill with a very bad cold. Last week I brought some furniture up here. I had been waiting since Christmas to get a removal van. Finally it was my turn and I had to help to load the van in ice and snow and to cap it all there was an alarm. There was only one man with the van and I could not get anyone else so I had to help him with the heavy furniture and then eventually drive up here in the open lorry. It was snowing and I reckoned we would reach the castle after an hour’s fast drive.

But the man had a lot to sort out in Cologne first so I sat in the front with him and froze. It took him four hours to get his things done and after five hours we reached the castle and I was frozen. It snowed and snowed and it was one o’clock in the morning before we had to unload my things that had been out in the open, in snow and ice, and I had to wipe it all dry and only then I could go to bed at one in the morning.

I got a high temperature and a bad cough and I thought I might get a pneumonia and so I am lying here alone, with no doctor and with no one who is dear to me. You can imagine how I have felt. I am feeling a bit better now but I have to be careful, I am still coughing heavily and suffer from chest pain.

Walter came home on leave last night and I collected him from Cologne. He was as pleased as me to see one another. I went with Frau Jansen who had not seen Walter for a year and had come to stay for a few days. We went on an evening train to meet him in Cologne and naturally arrived in the middle of an air raid at the pitch dark station. We went to the platform to wait for Walter’s train and surprisingly it arrived promptly and soon we were hugging.

Then we went as quickly as we could to the train to get to the silent castle. We were pleased to have Cologne behind us and we all sat and talked and talked until late into the night. Today Walter and Frau Jansens have gone to Cologne as Walter had to report to the army, and they sorted some things out at the house where people who lost their houses have been sent to live by the authorities. But I will write about that another time. I am tired now. By the way we still do not know the name of your son. Is it a secret?

29 February 1944

Walter’s leave is nearly over and he will have to go again. God knows what is going to happen. He is very pessimistic. I went to Cologne recently, returning in the afternoon, and Walter stayed in Engelskirchen and I wanted to be with him as soon as I could and made my way back.

The next train was terribly damaged in an air raid. The train was travelling from Kalk towards Heumar and went through the flak and then – what is this! An aeroplane attacked the train, diving low. It hit the engine, the mail car, the first wagons, it was horrible. Eight people died immediately and there are many others badly injured who died during the next days. Those who could took refuge in the woods. That is war. Humanitarian behaviour no longer exists, not here, not there.

3 March 1944

Walter has gone again. He had to leave twenty four hours early to be sure to cross the German border in time. The time with him flew and having brought him to the train I am now alone once again. We talked and talked. Röbi has written as well and we were happy and the two of you were with us all the time. We wrote long letters and cards to Röbi. Whilst Walter was home Frau Jansens brought her husband to see us. He had been discharged because of a leg injury. It was good to see them but what on earth was I going to give them to eat?

But our soldiers know how to look after themselves, they are used to it. There is a moat around the castle full of fish. Our two heroes saw this and already their mouths were watering. They wanted fish. I tried to dissuade them but soon they had disappeared. An hour later Walter surfaced in my room. “Well,” I said snidely, “Where are the many fish you caught for our dinner?”

“Not many fish, mother, but we caught one and we need your leather bag to carry it in so no one knows what we have done. It is a carp of at least ten pounds in weight. We caught it with a pitch fork and now we have got it.” I was terrified. Imagine the owners of the castle had seen it. Oh God! Anyway I gave him the bag and soon the fish robbers were there with their booty. It was a wonderful carp like I had never had one before, not ten but eighteen pounds in weight.

Fortunately we were alone that afternoon and soon we began preparing and cooking the fish. For butter we used the butter we had got for the whole of the next week. We decorated the table nicely and we called the Baroness I. who has a good appetite and we sat to eat the giant fish.

Unfortunately I could not eat a lot. I was nearly full from cooking it. But the cannibals, including our two fish robbers ate until they could not move and everything had gone. They felt uncomfortable. I think it was the first time they had been full since the war began. Walter could not sleep for over eating. And so the story had a happy ending. Our heroes had stolen with care and consideration!!

Then it was time for Walter to leave and it was very hard and the war went on with all its cruelty.

10 April 1944

Easter. I have not written for a long time. What for? It is only the same misery! Continuous air raids! Endless alarms. It is a wonder we escape all the misery. I have often been in Cologne when there have been day time attacks, the bombs fell but God Almighty time and again protected me. I have a lot of problems with the house. Because of the shortage of housing I have been forced to take dreadful people in. They are indescribable and in any case I have not got the energy to describe them today. But some time I will share these interesting experiences with you.

Well Easter. Alone as usual! In the morning I went to Mass and you were all in my prayers and then later there was a visit to the Baroness who had visitors and wanted some advice. More about that later! Then I ate alone. I gave up eating with the old Baron as soon as I could. My nerves could not stand it, looking at him I lost my appetite and I would have perished because he revolts me so much. Anyway I ate something in my room then I went for a walk.

In the woods I met Baroness I. and her friends and we walked back together. There was no post, no one had thought of me, but I am used to that. Röbi has not written for ages, nor have you. Walter writes seldom and I have not heard a thing since January from your beloved father. Presumably there is nothing he wants me to do for him. He only uses people to suit himself, nothing else moves him, he only thinks of himself.

This afternoon I am going to the farmers for a cup of coffee and to do some knitting and mending. This way I protect my source of food which is vital to survive. I wonder how long this can go on. I am worried about Walter. He is right in the thick of it. I just hope he gets out of that hell-hole alive and well. In the East they are getting merrily nearer and nearer to our borders. And when they get there I do not think it will be long before the Tommies start in the West. Well we will have to wait and see what happens. Whatever it is it will not be pleasant.

14 April 1944

There has been another air raid on Cologne and I went down the following day. Five heavy bombs had fallen on Lindenburg clinic, into the department for seriously ill persons and into the machine hall. The seriously ill were taken into the cellars for safety. But there was not adequate ventilation, no lighting and their condition was terrible. I was told this by a manual worker who happens to be working there at the moment.

In the East the Russians approach our borders with enormous strides and in the West they are just waiting to attack us any time. And this is the state of mind we live in among highly strung people. In the public shelters there is only strife and hatred. One is afraid to ask anyone anything. It is too risky. Walter does not write anymore or the post does not get through. He is sitting as I have said in the middle of that Western hell-hole. What will time bring?

After my illness I happened to go to Auweiler but there had been a series of direct hits there and as I went on to the Aachener Straße I saw that there had been several direct hits as well. There used to be big houses there but they had all collapsed down to the cellars. It is a mystery to me how anybody got out of there.

I was on my way to the station by tram across the Ring when I saw the dead being brought out after the previous attack. A woman described the scene. And one thing she told me I could not get out of my head. That was the sight of a dead little girl being brought out wearing her nightie and a pair of stockings, her head crushed as flat as a pancake.

I thought about it on the train and asked myself how much longer can we escape this fate? I do mending for the farmers and I am often so tired I wonder why I do it and for how much longer I can go on. Röbi does not write anymore. I expect the connection has been broken.

16 April 1944

Terror attack on Aachen. A soldier I know told the story. He was stationed in barracks on the outskirts of Aachen to train troops. In the evening he went with a friend for a walk in the hills above Aachen to be among nature to calm his nerves. He was homesick. They lie down in the grass, talking about the war and home, looking at Aachen below them.

But what is that! An air raid warning! Major alert! They had to go back but it was already too late. The air was black with enemy aeroplanes, and already it starts raining down onto the unfortunate city. He says it was like the end of the world only worse, indescribable. Only enemies in the sky and then the city burns as if ignited by a flame thrower.

They rush downhill, offer to help, to clear up, to rescue, but it was impossible. Fire everywhere, the poor people trapped in the cellars could be heard knocking for four days and then silence. Another page of sorrow and cruelty in the annals of the history of the world. Many people were mourned in Aachen. Whatever will happen next?

Note by Clare Westmacott: Aachen or Aix la Chapelle is known as the town of Charlemagne and was the centre of the Frankish empire of the eighth and ninth centuries. The emperor Charlemagne grouped together the peoples and territories of what later became France and Germany. He died in Aachen in 814 AD and was canonised in the twelfth century. For almost six hundred years Aachen was the imperial city where the kings of Germania were crowned. It contained like Cologne many ancient buildings many of which were destroyed in the war.

20 April 1944

The Tommies certainly know how to celebrate birthdays. On the night of Hitler’s birthday we people of Cologne had to cope with it. At about ten o’clock came an alarm then the all clear. They had hardly settled when there came a full alarm. Quickly to the air raid shelter or into the cellar! And because private cellars are not safe anymore they have to use public shelters. So quickly across the streets! But however quickly they went it was already too late. The bombs fell and the people were torn to pieces. There were many sacrificed who will never be named.

The attack was once again horrible, whatever had remained standing was destroyed. I needed to go to Cologne the next day but could not get there, the day after I got as far as Deutz and I went on foot through all these ruins and misery. In Braunsfeld everything is destroyed. Once again apart from minor damage my house is intact. It is filled to the roof top with people who have lost their homes. The garden and the summer house are full of furniture.

I went through all this misery and after I had run my errands I was pleased when I could turn my back on Cologne. What misery and suffering have I seen, will God protect me or is He saving me for an even worse fate?

Last night was the same. I was told that Düsseldorf, Leverkusen and Mülheim were the targets. I don’t know whether this is true. I am not going anywhere today. It is Sunday. I am sitting in the woods on a hill near the castle. It is wonderful there away from the house with, apart from the dog and the odd deer, not another soul as far as the eye can see. I read an English book, knit and darn until the afternoon and Sunday are at an end. On Monday I will go to Cologne again although I do not think it will be possible for much longer. Once the bridges will be blown up it will be out of the question.

22 April 1944

Another terror attack on Cologne. From the castle we could see the planes and the terrible bombing. In the night of April 20. The sky was blood red. Where is it, we ask, it will be Cologne again, I say. It was ghastly. “I do not believe there can be anything left,’ said Frau P. a well-known pianist who stays with the Baroness who is one of her pupils. Because of everything her nerves are shattered. I said I was sure she was right. I cannot believe that my house can still be standing.

With these thoughts, that we will not have anything left in Cologne, we went to bed once it was quiet. In one thing that swine is right; after the war there will only be the dead and the survivors. We are all in God’s hands now.

Next day I went to the station to try to go to Cologne but it was impossible. Cologne badly hit, all the suburbs especially Braunsfeld, Nippes, and Lindenthal had been severely damaged. The opera house is on fire. Everything your father has made will be destroyed. It is very sad.

I wouldn’t have wished this upon him. Well, the next day I went to Cologne and was appalled once more by what I saw. The inner city was quiet but once I got to the ring road. What a sight. The opera house was still burning and from the Hohenzollernring to the Hansaring everything was on fire. The poor people who in half an hour have lost everything. And then there are the dead, and those trapped in the cellars, knocking and finally those who died in the cellars. The misery cannot be described.

I follow Aachener Straße to Melaten. Not a house has been spared as far as Braunsfeld and the whole area has been damaged. Only the block from Schöttles as far as Frau Oberst is still standing. I got to my house which is full to bursting with unhappy people, not thankful that my house is still standing but full of jealousy that I still have something. I was angry and gave them a mouthful telling them to consider themselves lucky they had somewhere to go to. Until I lose my temper and tell them they should be happy I still have my house as otherwise they wouldn’t have a place to stay.

Well, I have been spared except for the windows and a few door frames. But the attacks continue, alarms every day and night. Everywhere there is cruelty, sorrow and death. I will not go on. What is the point? Because I have already described all these dreadful scenes and if they could get worse it happened today.

I arrived after many difficulties, home tired at my silent castle. Frau T. who had also gone to Cologne was already back. She has lost everything. Her lovely home is destroyed. She can only rescue what was down in the cellars. That is if it is not stolen first. In spite of all our suffering even that goes on. One more burden of our gruesome times.

I had hoped to get a letter from somebody, anybody, but there is nothing either from you or Walter and Röbi is in any case out of the question and so I am quite alone. Your father has not written for months. In spite of all the attacks on Cologne he has not bothered once to see if I was all right.

As long as he needed me to deal with his things in the Schildergasse he wrote, but clearly he now has no further need of me. Nor me of him! Well the leopard does not change his spots says Walter and he is right. Things are very hard for Walter now. I wish he were here with me, at least one of my own. The war continues.