War outbreak and journey from Zoppot to Schweidnitz.
Event ID: 287
Categories:
31 July 1914
Source ID: 10
“It was a summer’s day, as beautiful as it could be. The strong sun lay over the water. From the terrace of the beach hotel, over the burning red geraniums, we looked out over the deep blue sea. Our eyes followed the sailors gliding past like white shadows. The wind carried the sounds of the spa band. We had become very silent. I found myself in a strangely oppressive mood, as if on the border between dream and reality. Certainly, there were the slender figures of the two war pupils before me, their boyish, tanned faces under their paler foreheads, in which early masculinity already lay – there was Ilse’s bright, blooming appearance in summery white; but also her hearty, always laughing cheerfulness had fallen silent – there on the chair, which was pulled close to the table, sat Bolko, the youngest, and had the use of the fact that we adults did not eat from the cake and the pie. I took in this picture and looked again at the water, over which the narrow sails swayed, and into the glass of the sky and thought that it could not be that this picture was deceptive and that it would dissolve into nothing before what was now coming, before the Great Unknown, which, no one knew how, announced itself through everyone’s mouth: War…! Gottfried, the nephew, looked straight ahead, cool and matter-of-fact, as if he were at roll call. He said quite unexpectedly: ‘You have to take two pairs of woollen stockings with you’, and he named this and that exactly according to the regulations, which was part of the equipment when a young soldier goes into the field. This childlike soldierly fervour made me smile at all the conflicting feelings. I tried to read my son’s expression, but Lothar turned his narrow face with the very dark brows that had grown together over his nose. He didn’t want to speak now, only his bronze-coloured eyes occasionally flashed with the strong excitement that was working in him. Certainly his whole being, which otherwise seemed to be made for the joy of life, was seized. But he looked away, he didn’t want me to see what he was feeling and thinking. Only Bolko – blond, rosy-cheeked, childhood in a white sailor suit – continued to feast on the delicacies that this hour had given him, in which the Great Unknown stripped us of all the pleasure and carelessness that had gone before…Should we leave? Some bathers had already left Sopot – in an unnecessary hurry, it seemed. We also had to make a decision, I felt. If only someone could guess now! ‘You should ask Manfred.’ Lothar had said it. And he was certainly right. I saw the calm, almost indifferent face of my eldest in front of me. I could feel the certainty that emanated from him. I remembered how much I had felt the need to discuss all matters of importance with him, and how he always knew how to say and advise on the essentials, even in difficult matters, with a rationality that was hardly in keeping with his youth. ‘Why don’t you telegraph him?’ Lothar was right, especially as Manfred was with the detached squadron on the border, in Ostrowo, and was most likely to have wind of what was happening. I wrote a few words on a piece of paper and handed over the telegram for promotion. The two young soldiers exchanged a glance and stood up at the same time. The hour of separation had come. We went out onto the seafront. Many people were there, and their countenances were changed. A feverish, highly tense expectation vibrated in them. Was it the great unknown? A deep humming, such as I had never heard before, went through everyone. The band beamed with patriotic songs. Again and again they were called upon to play them. It was hard to escape the atmosphere. We made it to the hotel with great difficulty. Manfred’s reply arrived: ‘Advise you to leave.’ Now everything was clear, we packed. The phone went off. Lothar’s voice answered from Gdansk. And now this: ‘Farewell…goodbye…dear mum…’ These words resonated with me for a long time. On Friday, 31 July 1914, early in the morning, we travelled from Sopot to Silesia.”
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