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Dear Christian, It is so unusual that you (of all grandchildren) asked me in 1987 to tell you the story of my life. I personally did not think of it as worth mentioning, but never the less I now realize that you and your generation has the right to ask me what happened to your grandfather and what he made of his life. As good as I now remember you may hear the story which in retrospect looks more adventurous and expected as made by my own resolutions. My early childhood (born September ‘07 in Helsingfors Finland). I spent in Finland some 50 miles north of Helsingfors in Leppakoshi (Finish – meaning Aspenfall) where my father Christian (1878-1925) was at time manager of a brick factory, which belonged to the Finnish branch of the Luthers. I grew up in a totally Finnish environment, although our language at inside the home was German and from my mother’s side Swedish. There was no lack of kids my age, because all of the factory workers lived in small cottages in our backyard and there were lot of children. At that time it was normal for a family in a certain social position, as we happened to be, to keep a vast amount of maids, a cook, cook’s helper, chamber maid, a child’s maid called mummu who took care of my older brother Olaf and me. The total household was then 10 which seems just right. My father had a big stable of horses, there were no cars at that early period (1905-14) and all traffic went by horse and buggy. As extension of the brick factory there was a fairly large farm, with cows, sheep, geese, chicken, etc. gardens and fields. So we kids had always big company and never a dull moment. Through the estate ran a big river (Turijoki = Lumber river) we had a nice floating bathhouse where we could row and swim. You see the conditions were excellent for the excitement and fun for us kids. My first prep school was Finnish. Politically Finland was then attached to Russia of the Zar and so we were Russian citizens (until 1917). We lived in Leppakoski until 1914 in my recollection the most fascinating time of my life, endless excitement and fun. I developed special skills as finder of the best edible mushrooms (borowiks) and outdid even my parents, but there were plenty of wild berries to be found and eaten, specially the wild strawberries which one could smell 100 feet away with more flavor and taste than any garden variety, and there the yellow massberry (like a raspberry) which grew in abundance in wet places. Unfortunately the moors and woods were infested with copperheads, so we really learned how to watch our steps. - Russia proper – In 1914 my father got a new job as manager of a plywood factory in Russia (Staraja – Russia) south of Leningrad. So we got on a lengthy railroad trip and started a totally different life in Russia. We had to learn the new language and adapt to the life in a city. And the first World War had just gotten started. We went to a Russian grade school but I hardly remember the time, it was frightening to say the least. The Russians, usually friendly people, were now expected to hate the Germans and we had to shut up with our home language and speak Russian – all in all an unpleasant experience. It did not last long fortunately. My father was called into the army and went to Finland for the service. So we, the family packed up again and went back to Finland as well. But our Paradise was shut tight, we had lost it forever. We rented an apartment and had to reorganize totally – we had to find new friends among the neighborhood kids not an easy task, but the worst thing – our father was not around. The unit he was assigned to was in trouble, the Finnish soldiers were not ready to go to war with the Germans – so the whole unit was punished and sent to the far eastern part of Russia for the whole period of the war. It was very fortunate for my dad so he survived, and could return to us in 1917 after the revolution. We had in the meantime relocated again. This time to Reval – Estonia (1916). Our grandmother (father’s mother) had just moved into a larger apartment and took us (mother, brother, sister and me) in. This was again a total new beginning. Estonia was still under Russian rule. First language Russian then German and Estonian on top of that which had to be learned. Looking back now it seems to me that our life until then mostly consisted of learning new languages. We did not at that time know that we still had to dive into another language (English) and very deeply. But maybe we had acquired a certain readiness for new languages – as it was not very hard to find one’s way’s later in (word unknown) with the Danish language – very closely related to Swedish (which we already knew). But Estonian – also related to Finnish was again something else! 1916 – 1939 How happy we were when father returned in late 1917 as a free man. It was still wartime and Estonia under Russian dominion suffered. Like usual no food, no clothing, no heating, no light and the very strong felt national feelings of Russians against Estonians and both on top of it hating the Baltic – German minority. Even we as schoolboys had to be careful not to speak German on the streets. I was a grade school where we had daily courses in Russian, later after 1918 we got daily Estonian courses. It was in Feb 24, 1918 that the German troops advanced to Reval and freed us from the revolutionary Russian troops, who had then already started to arrest Baltic Germans by the hundreds, specially the upper social class people and on the black list were Mutti’s family and the Glehn’s too. All these hundreds were supposed to be shipped to Siberia. We were lucky in a way that the German troops eliminated this danger – otherwise it did not help much economically – on the contrary it got worse. The Germans provided themselves from the already very scarce food supplies, specially bread, butter and meat disappeared totally, even potatoes the staple food in Estonia were gone, so it was a very mixed blessing. My father who had many friends among the landed gentry was able to get our family through this bad period, later it got worse when the Germans left in October and the Estonians took over the government. They did it very drastically by depriving all the big landowners of their estates (from 10,000 acres was reduced to 400 acres) without pay. Practically this meant for hundreds of thousands ruin. But you have to realize that the Estonians were free for the first time in 700 years of slavery and from that angle it seemed really not too harsh a measure (as the Russians intended to kill them). As we all remember now the freedom of this country and the neighbor countries lasted only 20 years and again the Russians occupied this area and still intend to keep it. Back to our family – My father died in 1925 and our family had again hard choices. My brother (word unknown) left for Finland and managed to build up a nice existence for himself – almost the American way from working in the harbor as a laborer and then up the ladder. Va – 1934 I got a job at the factory where my dad worked. I and Mu met and we decided to start a family. In 1936 Lars was born and we had the feeling that the Luther family would continue to live in Reval where they had been since 1736 and Mu’s family since 1550. In conclusion to this first part of my story I have to say that even changing from Finland to Estonia did not matter very much, because the climate, living ways, language were much the same – the basic feeling remained – to be at home and part of the land and its history, which gave us a sense of security and continuity. This came however to an abrupt end. Part – Fall, 1939 Then something absolutely unimaginable happened to our whole minority group of Baltic – Germans (15,000) of Estonia. We received an order from Hitler (then a stranger to all of us) to pack up and leave our country within 4 days and for good. Estonia was still a free country although rumblings from World War II had been heard from Poland – heard but not taken seriously. But then a fear spread that the Bolshevicks may be taking over again and with only 15,000 troops in Estonia and no airplanes no tanks either there was no chance of keeping them on hold for even an hour. Well we really stuffed our few belongings into crates, boarded the waiting ships and said goodbye to our likewise totally speechless Estonian friends. But our reaction was pure instinct and our minds were numbed and sad. In a couple of days we entered the part of Guyvia, which had just been occupied by German troops. The Polish population was just packed on trains and taken to Warsaw or somewhere else and we had to make a house in the fully equipped apartment where the food and plates still stood on the table and the beds were not yet made. We really got our second shock right there. This was war again, hard reality, disgusting in every detail, and only the beginning for us. There were no jobs, no money, no hope. But soon we learned to see how German efficiency and improvising worked in a couple of weeks most of the able bodied got a job, any kind of course, a place to live and look around. But it took all of us a long time to get over the abrupt change of life, our loss of home country – later mood stays of course within both of us for our lifetime (although we have found a very substantial compensation in the fortunes of our children and grandchildren). 1939 Mu and I decided to make our ‘permanent’ home in Germany proper, to avoid the depressing feeling to live in a Polish home. Through connections of Mu we found a job and a place to live in Deutch-Eylau. I got a job in a saw mill, Mu in a bookstore. My job took me through most of the forest of Eastern Germany arranging the transportation of logs from the various locations where the trees where felled, mostly huge oak trees (often 3 – 6 feet in diameter). It took me a while to persuade the local farmers to get their horses and pull the logs out of the woods to the streets from where they got loaded on trucks and then to the mill. The difficulty was basically the price for the handling, which was a government thing and the farmers resented. But I was actually having a good time, riding with a nice motorbike for hours and hours through the well kept woods of the German forests (comparing with the wilderness in this country). Mu was working in a bookstore (the only one in town and they had the handicap of limited supply because of the war), and she can tell some funny stories about the various customers. Lars came after school to her office, sat on a table and read books from the shelf (and forgot everything about bad times). In 1941 my job ended – I was inducted to the army as a Russian language interpreter, and after a 6 week course in Berlin sent to the East – Smolensk -. The war with Russian had just begun and I got my first impressions of war right there. It was October and the wet period had started and the roads were rivers of mud. But I was then 34 years old and really did not get upset (as I would today). This chapter of my life I try best to forget – as I now see the total absurdity of war – fare as such- to settle political questions – it is grotesque (word unknown) – covered with heroic wards of dedication and patriotism, always hitting hardest the little, harmless people and solving never any real problems between nations. Was it unfortunately an inheritance from our caveman fathers or maybe even earlier (already the amoeba did devour their neighbors). But in 1941 I did not really think and argue that way – on the contrary I even fancied that the German army could beat the Russians and maybe free my home country (as they had done before in 1918) - and in the end we would get home again. How little one realizes that fate has its own rules for the big game of life on earth. Our unit was deployed in the middle part of the 2,000 miles of front (from the Arctic to the African mainland) and in 1942 we really worked our way close to Moscow (within 40 miles). We spent most of the time outdoors, constantly moving the first two years eastward – from then on westward. 1944 After the assassination attempt on Hitler the 20th of July 44, even the normal soldier knew that the chances for a victory were slim. An in January 1945 when we crossed the German border we realized that the end was near, no it was already there! During the four years of war I had only twice the chance to get a short vacation. I could do nothing to help Mu with all the difficult decisions of leaving Deutsch-Eylau. Her flight with the children is a long and gruesome story. She should really write down as an example of a miraculous game fate sometimes decides to play. During the last stages of our flight we were lucky to meet and at least design a plan where to meet again in Germany – outside the Russian dominion. May 3, 1945 The war ended abruptly, but not yet for we – Mu had after many death escapes managed to reach Geuenburg (close to the Danish border). I saw her for a couple of days in May and then was taken prisoner of war by the Americans (of all things) in Attychy (France) where I got to know the first black people. In September ’45 I was released. 1945 – Geuenburg There we were with 3 rucksacks (bags) of property for Mu and the kids – and a small handbag for me with a change of underwear – planning a new start of life. Our only asset was our youth and a certain courage. There was no home, nor shelter, money; all the saving we had were in the bank in Eastern Russia and could not be drawn on in the West. We found a very problematic place to live a couple of months with Cardinals, Lo and Kurt. But as they asked a considerable payment for this shelter, we had to look for some income. Mu worked first as kitchen helper in a hospital for a few pieces of dry bread – and found then a job with a man (refugee from Rhineland) who put up a shop for art paintings, etc. what we would call “arts and crafts”. Mu found somewhere a pair of small scissors and that was the moment the silhouettes got started in her life. When I returned in Sept ’45 after my captivity in France we had to move from the Cardinals and by a lucky chance found a place with RusZeise two rooms (no water, no kitchen, no toilet) but a shelter which gave us cover for 10 years. I started a little woodworking shop with a handful of tools I got from a farmer business man in Rueshied (Rhineland) saws, knives, files etc. I had to travel 500 miles on top of an open coal wagon – there were no passenger trains at that time – but then again I was young! Once I had an order for a toy – a dwarf with one flexible leg, it was walking on a nervous board. It was a quite complicated contraption. I still remember my frustration – it did and did not walk – only at 19 degrees (word unknown) might cause the brom, and down it walked at a nice an steady pace. I got plywood from my farmer connection with a factory in Finland so I really could do all kinds of little carvings, angles, dwarfs, boxes – which were then painted by Mu. I made my own saw blades (old clocks prings – and brushes from my hair – somebody gave me an old farm motor. In the first years of after war, there was hardly anything available food, clothing of course too. In fall we used to walk over the fields where potatoes had been harvested and one could find a meal or two. We picked berries, mushrooms – and once in a while I had to walk for 10 miles to a small fishing village where I was likely to buy some fish. Groceries were rationed for 2 more years, but as soon as the old mark was revaluated everything was again on the market, of course at a price. Gevienburg means “Lucky Castle” it was really lucky for us – we survived! The boys were fortunate that they were accepted at the Danish school. At that time the Danes still nourished political dreams – the northern most province of Germany, Slesving, had a mixed population half Danish, half German. The local Danish speaking and thinking felt that they could choose to be absorbed by Denmark – and the Danes sent teachers, money, and other support over the border, to get this part of former Denmark back, which was lost 1877 (under Bismark) to Germany. I was lucky to get a job as slojd (wood-working) instructor at the Danish school and Mu was later full time silhouette cutter, mostly for Danish customers. We tried to immigrate to Denmark – but failed. They had already their share of displaced people, so it was for us fortunate. At the same time we had feelers to Tante Senta Bernhard in Marrietta Ohio whose late husband (cousin of Mu) already at the beginning of the 2nd World War (1939) had invited us to the States. So after long negotiations with the USA immigration office we got finally the permission to enter. That was 1955 – a day to remember – July 55 (not the 4th) but for us it really became our fourth of July – freedom. There was still a strange event to mention. We had just settled in the train from Brennen to take the boat to N.Y. when our farmer Danish school principal came to us and tried to persuade us to cancel our trip and stay in Europe, he promised Lars a scholarship for the university at Copenhagen. We did not get excited and remained seated. In hindsight we realized that this was the best solution. After our five day trip over the Atlantic we saw the silhouette of N.Y. and passed the Statue of Liberty – but don’t ask us how we really felt! We were now totally adrift – no money, no home, no job and very nervous (the two of us at least). Senta and Winfred then total strangers met us at the pier. 1500 people disembarked – we cleared the customs – (nobody bothered about our 21 bundles) and we were guests in a strange country – without the least idea how our future could develop – breathtaking the pace of life in N.Y. We were numb then as 15 years ago when we had to leave our home country. First we had to adjust to the language – this was at least a beginning. Senta B took us to Paradox in N.Y. State (Adirondacks) where she had a nice summer cottage. This was for us the first vacation after almost 15 years of toil, and that was really the nicest thing that happened to us. We kind of relaxed and started to hope. |