War Brothers Read online

  In the morning, Chris came to the station to see me onto the 6:15 am train to London and I started my journey home. This time I didn’t have company as Chris wasn’t coming with me, it would be a long and lonely trip on my own.

  When we had come from Germany to England, Chris and I had managed to catch all our connections. Due to exceptionally severe weather in the North Sea the ancient ferry was delayed, and I missed the Hamburg train in Rotterdam which meant that I had to wait until the evening train which left at 8:30 pm and arrived in Hamburg the following morning at 6.30 am. I managed to find a seat in a corner of a crowded carriage where I made myself a nest to fall asleep in. By the time that I arrived, I was cold, tired and hungry and not a little grumpy. The train for Lubeck didn’t leave until 10:00 am, so I had time to go into the town to find a café where I could purchase breakfast. I digested the contents of a newspaper as I consumed my breakfast. After seeing the world, from an English point of view during my time in Yorkshire, I wanted to update myself on the current political situation and the recent dramatic events in Austria. Not only was I exhausted from the long journey, I was also extremely sad as I read through the articles. The newspaper was full of rhetoric about expanding the country and making Germany great again, and how Hitler would ensure that the German people got what was theirs’ by right. It was pretty obvious to me that the only way Hitler could deliver on his promises was by making war on neighbouring countries. I felt like getting back on the train to Rotterdam and returning to Yorkshire. If didn’t have my close family in Lubeck, it would have been a simple decision.

  I arrived back in Lubeck at lunchtime, and, after visiting my mother and grandad in the bakery, went home, grabbed some food and collapsed into bed. I didn’t wake up until the following morning.

  ‘Did you have a good rest?’ my mother asked me as I arrived in the bakery.

  ‘I slept the sleep of the dead Mum and feel more normal this morning.’

  ‘Take a fresh loaf of bread and go and join your grandad in the back of the shop for your breakfast. He has just made some coffee which I am sure that he will share with you.’

  ‘Thanks Mum I will talk to you later.’ I left her to the customers and went into the back to my grandad.

  ‘Welcome back Markus. How did your trip to Yorkshire go?’ my grandad asked me.

  ‘If I can have some of your coffee I will tell you all about it,’ I replied as I poured a cup of strong coffee.

  I spent the next half an hour telling him all about the time I had spent with my father and Chris.

  ‘My Dad asked me to think of moving from Germany and stay with him. He told me to convince my mother to come with me so as we all could be together as a family.’

  ‘You can’t leave me all on my own here,’ my grandad said plaintively. My grandma had died eight years ago in 1930, so he relied a lot on us for company.

  ‘I told him that I couldn’t leave Germany until I had finished my engineering degree in Kiel and also that my Mum wouldn’t leave you on your own,’ I said putting my arm around him.

  ‘If you left with your Mum, I would close this place down and retire. It probably would be a good idea if I took it easier anyway. You never know, I might go with you as I don’t like the new Germany and all this Hitler mania.’

  ‘Don’t let anybody hear you say what you have just said. People have been arrested for less, and you never know who is in your queue waiting for bread,’ I suggested.

  ‘I’ll try to remember that Markus. Now I think that it is time to get some work done back here. I haven’t been able to move the heavier sacks while you have been away, so you had better lend me your muscles for a while.’ He smiled as he got up and went out to the store at the rear of the building.

  I went to a Flieger-HJ meeting the following day and was told that I would have to attend for training at the Lubeck Blankensee aerodrome every day until the end of my holidays from University. They had received some training planes and the older members of the Flieger-HJ would be getting flying lessons. My grandad wasn’t too impressed, but I had no choice in the matter. I would be picked up from the local stadium at 8:00 in the morning, being dropped back there shortly after 8:00 at night.

  This was the fulfilment of my dream and my ‘raison d’etre’ for joining the Flieger-HJ in the first place. As an experienced glider pilot and twenty one years of age, I was included in the most senior group of trainee pilots. We spent the mornings doing theory on topics such as navigation and the afternoon actually flying the planes. The instructor that I was put under had been flying Stuka dive bombers in the Spanish Civil War, so he had lots of experience of combat flying. The first time that I tried to sit in the pilot’s seat I didn’t fit. At nearly two meters tall and with a physique to match, I was too big for the cockpit. The mechanic had to make some adjustments to a spare seat they had in the workshop and then exchange the regular seat before I could fly. It was named the “Big Bekker” seat.

  The planes we flew in had the trainee in the front seat and the instructor behind at a duplicate set of controls. Occasionally my instructor took over with loud curses as I did something stupid. All in all, I did exceptionally well and after three weeks was selected to fly solo.

  My flight was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon at around 3.00 pm, so I had the whole day to wait around anxiously. There were three other solo flights planned for the same day and disaster struck the second one of the morning.

  I had made friends with a guy my own age called Horst van Tinden and he had been selected to make his solo flight the same day as mine. In fact, we had planned to go out in Lubeck together for a few beers that evening to celebrate what we hoped would be our successful solo flights.

  I was watching his flight from a platform on the roof of the control tower together with the other trainee pilots. It was the best place to keep an eye on what was going on as there was an uninterrupted 360 degree view.

  ‘Horst is doing well isn’t he,’ one of the others said to me.

  ‘He looks to be very much in control and his take off was extremely professional’ I replied.

  ‘He has to make one more circuit and then he will have to land,’ one of the instructors said.

  About ten minutes later he was on his approach to the airstrip to land.

  ‘Should that other aircraft be taxiing towards the runway?’ I asked, alarmed at seeing a dangerous situation developing.

  ‘He mustn’t have seen that there is an aircraft coming in to land,’ another voice piped up also alarmed by the situation.

  Horst, now extremely close to landing, panicked and pulled the plane up, but without increasing his speed. The plane rapidly lost altitude, and bellied into the ground, hitting the fencing that surrounded the airfield. The plane flipped, landing on its back, and it burst into flames. The fire-truck rushed to where the plane came to a halt, but there was no hope of saving my friend Horst. We all stood in a state of shock with our eyes riveted on the terrifying scene. We had lost a colleague in distressing circumstances.

  The rest of the solo flights, due to take place that day, were postponed to the following day, so I had to remain in a extremely anxious state for an additional twenty four hours. I was already extremely nervous at the thought of making my solo flight, and my condition was made considerably worse, by Horst’s accident.

  The Kommandant in charge of the school called us all into the meeting room to talk to us.

  ‘An extremely tragic event happened today, and we lost one of our trainee pilots, Horst van Tinden. I have called you to this meeting because I want you all to know that Horst’s reaction when he saw a plane crossing his path was correct, and an experienced pilot would have done exactly the same. He took the decision to climb, but the engine didn’t react quickly enough as he had reached a critical point in his descent. A similar accident will not happen again. We have already taken steps to mak
e sure that no other planes will be flying or manoeuvring while you make your solo flights. So go home now, relax and come back tomorrow ready for your flight.’

  I went home but didn’t tell my mother what had happened at the aerodrome. She would have done her nut and tried to stop me from flying. The following evening, I went home triumphantly, having successfully completed my solo flight. I even had the Pilot’s Badge for my mother to sew on my uniform to prove it.

  When I arrived at the first Flieger-HJ meeting after I returned to University at the end of September, I got a lot of envious comments from the other members of the troop when they saw my badge. Lubeck had been the only city where pilot training had taken place, so I was only one of two who had obtained their Pilot’s Badge. We were still meeting at the Kiel-Holtenau airport, and the two planes we had been promised had been delivered. Obviously I had completed my training and was allowed to fly when the others were at their theory sessions. They had to make another ‘Bekker’ seat for me so as I could fit into the cockpit.

  During September, there was the Munich conference where there was agreement between Hitler and the British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain that Germany could take control of the areas of Czechoslovakia where German was the spoken language. I was so busy at University, and my other activities, including my relationship with Susie that I didn’t have time to fully appreciate what was going on, but it did appear to us students that there was not going to be a war. The first term of my year at university flew by, and I soon was back in Lubeck for Christmas with my mother and grandad.

  Chapter 14

  It was unusually cold weather at Christmas, and the inlet of the Baltic, on which Lubeck stands, was frozen to a greater thickness than normal. We were able to skate and have fun on the ice making it a particularly enjoyable holiday.

  I was lying in bed one morning, in fact, it was the 6th January 1939, the first Friday of the New Year, when my mother knocked on my bedroom door and brought me in an official looking letter.

  ‘This looks important Markus, and it has the stamp of the Third Reich on it, so I thought that I would bring it up to you,’ she said as she handed it to me. I suspect that she was also curious as to the contents.

  ‘I hope that I am not in trouble for something that I have done,’ I said as I sat up in bed.

  I opened the letter with trepidation dreading what I might read.

  So much for thinking that there wasn’t going to be war. The letter was my call up instructions. The letter asked me to report for duty on Monday 16th January to join a new squadron being formed at Lubeck Blankensee airfield. It also told me that I now held the rank of Leutnant which was the lowest level of pilot in the Luftwaffe.

  ‘Mum, I don’t believe it. I have been called up to the Luftwaffe so will have to abandon my studies. I won’t be able to get my degree in July.’

  There was a look of shock on my mother’s face. She sat down on the side of my bed.

  ‘Do you think they have made a mistake, Markus? Surely they will allow you to complete your degree before they take you into the Luftwaffe. You are so close to finishing.’

  ‘There was speculation in Kiel before I came home for the Christmas holidays that they were going to call up all the pilots in the Flieger-HJ early in the New Year, so I don’t think it is an error.’ I had never felt so depressed in my life. When would I be able to get back to University to finish my degree?

  ‘We’ve struggled to find the money to send you to University and now that you’re close to the finishing line they have done this to you. It’s not fair.’ My mother was clearly as disappointed as I was. ‘I will go downstairs and get your breakfast ready.’

  ‘I have to go out to the aerodrome on Monday so I will ask at the office if they might have made a mistake,’ I said more in hope than belief.

  I lay in bed for a few minutes just considering the impact the letter I had just received would have on my life. The fact that I was being called up must mean that Germany was going to become involved in another war and it would include me. As I lay thinking, I was invaded by thoughts that were increased in their intensity by fear:

  My comfortable life as a student was about to be turned upside down. I would enter a life where my every move would be planned, in advance, by someone else. What about Chris; were we going to go to war against England and would I end up fighting against him? How long was I going to have to serve in the Luftwaffe? Disturbed by my thoughts I decided that I had better get up and face the new day.

  Chris was so much on my mind that I sat down after lunch and wrote him a long letter. I poured out my heart to him about how I was feeling at having to give up my University studies and how upset my mother was about the situation. I felt that I wasn’t breaking any confidences by telling him that I was about to become a Leutnant in a squadron flying Messerschmitt Bf 109’s and based at the Lubeck Blankensee aerodrome. If war broke out, I might have to be more careful about the information I sent to him.

  I queued up with a number of other concerned students on Monday at the offices at the aerodrome. They informed us that they had no other information, and there was nobody there who could help us. We were told to wait while they called someone in authority. Eventually, an officer came into the area where we were waiting. He told us that there was no mistake, and we must report the following Monday as instructed in the letters we had received. We were also told that we didn’t need to attend for the remainder of the week.

  They gave us a kit bag, a uniform and dropped us off in Lubeck. I walked home to drop my stuff off and then went to the bakery to talk to my mother.

  ‘I assume that it is terrible news from the look on your face, Markus,’ she said as I joined her at the back of the counter.

  ‘Yes, I am afraid that I have to report next Monday and can’t go back to University. There were a lot of other disgruntled students there with me, and they addressed us all together.’

  ‘Do you have to go in this week or can you help us here?’ she asked me.

  ‘We have been given the rest of the week off, so I can help you and grandad. I would also like to go and visit Susie for a few days to bring her up to date with what is going on.’

  ‘Don’t worry about us Markus; we will have to manage when you have gone anyway, so you just enjoy yourself for your last week of freedom.’

  I arranged to travel to Kiel on Thursday to see Susie, and also pick up my stuff from my digs. I needed to cancel my student accommodation and let Walter know that I wouldn’t be going back when the term started at the end of January. Susie understood when I told her that I wasn’t coming back to Kiel for the new university term. She fully appreciated that orders were orders as her father was a senior naval man. I joined her family on the Friday evening, and, in conversation over dinner, her father explained that the navy was also mobilising.

  ‘There must be something significant coming up as we are bringing the ships up to their full complement and have called in a lot of the reserves,’ he told me.

  ‘Do you know what is happening or about to happen?’ I asked him.

  ‘They haven’t told us yet, but we have been told to increase the amount of supplies we have in stock and also to step up the ordering of ammunition.’

  ‘It sounds serious that they have asked us to increase our stocks of ammunition as that can only mean one thing. They expect that the ammunition will be used,’ I added.

  ‘There is another intriguing development. They have given instructions that fuel must be conserved and not wasted, and a lot of manoeuvres have been cancelled to protect the fuel supplies,’ Susie’s father explained.

  ‘I wonder if that is why they cancelled our flying this week. I suppose that on-going fuel supplies must be a worry for the powers that be.’

  The discussions continued as we ate our dinner. After the meal, Susie and I went into the City of Kiel to fin
d our friends, and have a few drinks.

  She helped me take all my bits and pieces from my digs to the train station on Saturday afternoon, and finally saw me onto the train to Lubeck. We had no idea when we would be able to see each other again. With me going off to war, anything could happen, and I might not even return, so it was a very emotional farewell.

  The weekend flew by, and Monday morning saw me at the local stadium waiting for the bus to take me to the aerodrome, dressed up in my new uniform and carrying my kitbag. My life as a Leutnant had begun for better or for worse.

  Chapter 15

  A bus didn’t arrive, but a truck with benches in the back did and the seven of us who had assembled at the stadium, kitted out for our new lives in the Luftwaffe, climbed into the back. I recognized the three pilots but had never seen the others. They turned out to be aircrew who would be involved in the servicing of the planes.

  In the week between my last visit and today, the aerodrome had changed dramatically. The fence around the airfield had been strengthened considerably, and there was now a guard on the main gate. As we entered, our papers were checked. This had the effect of making me feel that I was losing my freedom and was no longer in control of my own destiny. Although I was twenty one, I felt like a naughty schoolboy.

  A lot of temporary accommodation units had been added to the site, and the pilots were housed in the two units that were closest to the airfield. We were lucky enough to have single cubicles and didn’t have to share with others, or that was the theory as the walls were extremely thin and there really was no privacy. The officers’ mess, where we would eat our meals and socialise, was in the main building. I was amazed to see how organized everything was, and it certainly exceeded my expectations.