Candlelight in a Storm

Enemy Contact In a strange town, in strange times, Renate was to face with even stranger events. The city of Apolda surrendered without any resistance and was occupied by the US on April 12th, 1945, ahead of the formal unconditional surrender and capitulation of the Deutsche Wehrmacht, formally signed on May 7th. The fact that the war had come to an end with the total defeat of the Germans went unnoticed by the children, Dieter and Renate: at first, all they noticed was that the earpiercing, agonizingly-loud air alarms had stopped. Their apartment building was situated on a street corner at the intersection of Schillerstrasse and Heidenberg streets. It had two floors of housing, with seven apartments in all: two each on the ground floor, first floor, and second floor, and one more on the second floor as an attic. The apartments on one side of the building were larger than the others. The large apartment on the ground floor was leased to a dental practice; the others were all occupied by families, with Renate’s family living in a bigger apartment on the second floor, quite spacious, with four bedrooms. Renate could watch the passers-by through large windows in the living room on both sides. The front street, Schillerstrasse, led to the right up an elevation and to the left to a movie theater, the Kristall Palast, some 300 feet away. Behind the apartment building, there was an empty piece of land. One could also view the cross street, Heidenberg, to the right of the building. This side street to the right led to a path parallel to a creek. Beyond the elevation and running parallel, there was another road, which was a thoroughfare running through the town; the gap between the two parallel roads, offered a slope on which the children could ride their sleds in the winter. Renate’s mom went to work in the knitting factory of her brother-in-law, Fritz. Dieter went to school, and Renate stayed home with her grandma. Early one summer morning, while Renate was spending her lonely hours skipping rope in front of her home, she noticed a dusty old military truck come down Heidenberg street, to the right, across the street and screech to a halt, emitting foul-smelling smoke behind. Strange men, some 20 in all, jumped out. They were dressed in uniforms, but not like her father. The truck made a U-turn, whining and screeching in agony, and drove away the way in the direction it had come. In an entertaining mood, joking and playing pranks, the men made all kinds of remarks, but she could not understand what they were saying. One or the other smiled at her as she stood baffled at the door, some even waved and cried out something. Then they all strolled off toward the Kristall Palast movie theater. A few minutes later, another truck came the same way as the one before, and the whole scene was repeated. Again, all the men who got out were wearing the same uniform, equally merry, but they were all black. She had never heard that there were such men on earth. On a closer look, she noticed they had large white eyeballs with black eyes and big, gleaming teeth. She was scared. As in a trance, she sank on the door step. Like the white Americans, also these men gibbered in some strange tongue. One of the men came running across the street, waving at her. He moved fast, but with grace. When he bent down to look at her, he beamed all the more and smiled even with his eyes. He held something in his hand and stooped to give it to her. It was a chocolate bar wrapped in a strange decorative package that she had never seen before. Mesmerized, she took it and whispered, “Danke.” Then he held out a small photo. She just managed to recognize a girl with curly hair. He tapped on it twice with his forefinger, then twice on his chest. He said something, looked back to his comrades, laughed, and ran back. In a second, he had merged into the bunch of uniformed figures. Then they strolled off to the movie theater, half running, half dancing. She was relieved, but the fear of these strange men lingered on for a moment. But again, the soldier had smiled and called her “Fräulein” with a drawl, yet in an endearing way. Nobody ever called her that, not even her brother. Just now and then, her grandma would use the word when reprimanding, like, “You cannot get away with that sort of thing, Fräulein!” “Hurry up, don’t stand all the time before the mirror, Fräulein!” Yet, now addressed with that same word by a stranger, in a friendly way, she felt even flattered. Though this visit of the soldiers to the movie theater did not take place regularly, there was something ritualistic about it, and Renate had more than one occasion to watch the parade as if it were specially held for her. She would be greeted and would receive chocolate now and then. She could not make out when a new soldier came up to her. For her, they were all black, all looked alike and even smiled, cheered, and walked alike. The chocolate she held in her hand was like a trophy. She imagined, as in a fairy tale, that she were a princess and the soldiers were all her mere subjects. So, sitting on the doorsteps, she would receive the tribute from a soldier; outwardly, she was a demure kid, but inwardly, she was full of joy for the recognition and honor she was receiving. In the otherwise prevailing monotony of the small town of Apolda, such an event raised all kinds of questions in her young mind: why, why, why, and again, why? She learned from her mother that the soldiers were all “Amis” (pronounced Ah-mees), the German abbreviation for Americans. She also learned the language in which they “gibbered” was English; yes, they spoke English like the “Tommies,” or Englishmen. No, they did not speak Americanish. The soldiers were attending so-called “matinees,” movie shows in English, being specially projected on specified dates for them and for them alone. She wondered why the formidable enemy had such cozy names as Ami and Tommi, which sounded like Emi, for her grandma or like Mami, the usual term for mother. Among the numerous questions she posed, two remained unanswered. If they are all Americans who fought us, why are they coming in two separate trucks, one for the white men and one for the black men? She knew from the boring game of chess that Dieter had tried twice to teach her, the white and black fought each other and did not get along. The second question was why only the black men gave her chocolate. Did the white men possess no chocolate at all or did they eat it up all by themselves? None could know the whites were strictly adhering to the non-fraternization policy of the US, 5while the blacks were making a humanitarian exception in her case.