Later:
I finished my Masters at Duke a few years after my conversation with my grandfather and married a beautiful teacher with visions of enlightening the high school youth of our beloved state. With a major in history and a recently completed masters in the wars of Europe, Sue-Ellen wanted to see for herself the remnants that remained of World War II. We agreed to spend our meager savings on a honeymoon in Europe. We would fly to England, cross over to France, drive to Normandy, follow the invasion route to the Rhine and then upriver to visit my cousin William, who worked as a programmer for the staff of an international task force in Switzerland in the design and implementation of a gamma-ray satellite telescope to explore the outer reaches of the universe. Bill was our family "rocket scientist".At dinner with my parents the weekend before we were to leave, my mother had asked about our plans and asked casually, "Will you be driving any in western Germany?"
"We haven't set any firm route yet, but we hope to just sort of follow the Rhine."
"Well, you may remember that your father and I spent some time in Germany. You were born there."
"I believe you may have mentioned that a few times." There may have been a touch of sarcasm in my tone.
My mother, still fiesty for her years, gave it right back, sounding a little like Grandpa.
"Well, you may also remember that we were stationed in a little village called Permasens in the mountains down near the French border, and, due to the shortage of on-base housing, junior officers lived in village."
"I presume you are going somewhere with this, Mom?"
"I certainly am!, So pay attention; I'll tell you some things you don't remember, 'cause I haven't told you."
I know when I'm beat.
" Well," she continued, "there was a lady in that village that baby-sat for you now and then and taught me the language. Monica and I became close friends and have exchanged letters a few times over the years. I haven't heard from her in fifteen or twenty years, but I would have bet that she was still living in that village. The Germans don't move around much like we do. When I heard that you two might be travelling in Germany, I wrote to her at the last address I had, and sure enough, I got an answer, just last week. She says that if you happen to be in her area, she would be delighted to have you visit."
"Well I don't -" She cut me off.
"Sue-Ellen might get some insights into the war that she won't get anywhere else."
Sue broke in. "I think that's a wonderful idea; I wouldn't want to miss it."
Mom smiled sweetly. "You will need to walk softly in discussions of the war; you do remember that the Germans lost the war, don't you Wes?"
"Yes, Mother, I remember."
Like I said, I know when I'm beaten."
***********
We did find Monica who turned out to be everything that Mom had said about her. Warm, friendly and eager to talk to us. The husband of a local high school physics teacher and model train enthusiast, Peter was also eager to talk. Their English was far better than any of their language we could muster up. (We learned that they were also fluent in French.)For our second evening with the Hausmanns Monica had treated us to a traditional German dinner of Viener Schnitzel mit kartoffel und salat, with cheesecake for dessert, and after a few glasses of wine, it seemed that we might be able to discuss the war years without insult or embarrasment to our hosts.
Sue broke the ice. "Monica, I have studied your country, particularly the war years, but all I know is what the books tell me; I don't feel that I have a feel for the way it was for the way it affected the people. Your friend and my mother-in-law, Mary Elizabeth, tells me that you lived through that time. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions. If I am to teach that history to my students, I want to understand as much as I can about that time."
There was a silence that seemed very long. Monica's face became quite solumn; she glanced at the ceiling, obviously remembering. "It was a sad time; I vas very young. Perhaps it vill be good to talk.", her accent made stronger with emotion.
Peter refilled the glasses.
Sue; "Thank you, have you always lived here in the village?"
Again Monica glanced upward. "No, I vas born in a town on the Rhine, on the border with Belgium, called Remagen."
The name rang a bell for me and I remembered Grandpa's story, but it did not seem the time to bring it up.
"My father was a baker and had a small shop in town. He had lost an arm in the first war. We had a good house and a comfortable living. It was my parents and my older brother, Deiter."
"Did the fighting come near?'
"Ya, when the landings took place in Normandy, ve vhere sure they would come to Deutchland through Belgium and quite possibly try to cross the Rhine there. I vas sent to my uncle here in Piemisans, as far as possible from where the fighting was likely to be. My uncle had children my age, so I became a part of his family. The family name was the same so after a while no one noticed that was not his child."
"Did you go back after the war?"
"No, my parents were old, had lost their source of income, their home had been destroyed and they had aged a lot. It vas besser I stay here where the fighting had not touched. They both died a few years later, within a few months of each other."
"And your brother?"
"He was maybe thirteen, I don't remember his birthday, when the war came. He was a member of the Hitler Youth, and was not allowed to leave. my father told me that his group was assigned to the local
military and used as scouts for the army."
"What did he do after the war was over?"
" Ve do not know vat happen to Deiter, my vater was told only that he vhent on a scouting mission one night and never returned."
("Oh my God", I thought. "Keep your mouth shut. Sue has not heard Grandpa's story.")
"Remagen is supposed to be the place where the Americans first crossed the Rhine, do you remember anything about the town or the bridge."
"Nein, only vhat my parents told me later when I visit. I zhink it vas a railroad bridge, but vas destroyed in zhe fighting. I don't zhink it vas ever rebuilt."
Monica was obviously emotionally drained. "I zhink I talk too much, please excuse"
Peter produced another bottle and refilled the glasses. The silence was electric.
Monica returned, smiling. "I am so sorry."
"It is enough. We are sorry to have upset you; please forgive us."
"It is OK, I am good now. Vhy don't you tell us about your trip? Your plans? And how is my good friend Mary Elizabeth?"
Peter refilled the glasses again.
.
NOTE: The story is historically correct, insofar as the Remagen bridge was the first crossing into Germany and the 9th Armored was the first one to cross. The characters and dialog are totally products of my imagination and, as they say, any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The pistol does exist, but its petigree has been lost to history.
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