The unconditional surrender of Germany
May 8th, 2005When I left Germany 11 years ago I spent the last night at my Grandfather’s. He lived near Frankfurt and my flight left early in the morning, so he was going to drive me to the airport. My grandfather was of old Prussian stock, stubborn, proud and very conservative. I had never heard him talk much about the war; It was very clear he was very bitter about it. Years ago, my mom told me, he had written down his war experiences, but one night, in a fit of depression, he burned the papers.
So that night, in 1994, I was very surprised when, over a bottle of Bergsträsser wine, he began talking about the war. He reminisced about his adventures in arctic Norway, the march on Paris, the brutal east front and the heat of North Africa. He told me about run-ins with the SS he had had. He spoke of the Nazis with what seemed genuine disgust. He complained that those young, reckless SS officers had no respect for the values of the German Reichswehr, he said he was committed to. And he spoke of the horror of war, and the death and destruction the Reichswehr and the other armies spread across Europe.
My Grandfather’s war stories that night may have been shaky on historical accuracy, but they were an honest reflection of this old man’s desire, almost 50 years after the German surrender, to find some value, some meaning in this horrible experience. And maybe even to extract some honor or dignity from the defeat. This was the voice of an old man who was wallowing in self-pity, who never learned to move forward, never learned from the trauma in his life, and pass on lessons from his experience to a new generation. But it was also the voice of a generation buried under historical shame, crushing defeat and personal tragedy.