Fighting Fascism in Europe: The World War II Letters of an American Veteran of the Spanish Civil War

7. Waiting to Come Home: May 9–October 29, 1945

7 Waiting to Come Home May 9–October 29, 1945 Hqtrs. 238th Engr. Combat Bn. APO 230, NY, NY Somewhere in Germany 11 May 1945 Darling Bub; Back with my outfit again. Didn’t exactly enjoy the job I was on, but had my first real opportunity to talk to all kinds of Germans. I met a wide variety of people—bankers, industrialists, peasants, workers, big-shot and little-shot Nazis, Gestapo agents, spies, rank and file soldiers, officers , SS men and women, Hitler Jugend, housewives, children, young girls of the Deutsche Bund Mädel, former inmates of concentration camps, Communists, former social democrats, members of the German Nationalists, Centrum of Catholic party, priests, doctors, lawyers, teachers, and others. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of the German people now. It can best be put in the words of an old German, who had spent three years as a ‘‘political’’ in Buchenwald. He said, ‘‘Germany, particularly its youth, is rotten to the core. Fascism has perverted and degenerated my people. The world will make a tragic blunder if it trusts us for at least 25 years.’’ I know we can’t exterminate or destroy them, which is the wild urge you have in combat, but I think that this must be borne in mind in all our future dealings with this nation. This is the human material we have to work with—to live with. About our life right now. We’re pretty comfortably situated. Live in the best houses in town. Good chow, and for us an officers ’ mess. A good athletics program. An educational program being organized. Movies every night. Not much work. A good deal of the old Army chicken shit. . . . WAITING TO COME HOME 195 I didn’t tell you about my meeting the Russians. I tried to get to Berlin the other day. But when I got to the Russian lines, I was stopped by a couple of smiling Ivans. I asked them to take me to their company commander, which one of them did. We shook hands and I pulled out my bottle of Scotch and presented it to him, and then I asked him for a bottle of vodka which he delightedly gave me. We sat around shooting the breeze in German, which he spoke excellently. He was a Moscow man and a University graduate. As a couple of big-city slickers we compared notes on our home towns. I asked him about General Rodimstev,1 who fought as a captain in Spain, and when he learned I had been with the IB [International Brigades] he gave me a special grab on the shoulder and an enthusiastic ‘‘Tovarich.’’ When I told him I wanted to go to Berlin just for the special personal satisfaction of walking up the Unter den Linden and standing in front of what was left of the Reichstag. I was sure disappointed when he told me, ‘‘My dear Tovarich, I am so sorry, but it is verboten.’’ So, we polished off the vodka. Shook hands. Saluted all around, and I took off with his ‘‘God be with you’’ (Surprising?) Anyway, I met the Reds. That’ll be another tale for Davie some day. Got a lot of them, haven’t I? Well, hon, I’ll say goodnight to you now. I love you. Your, Larry 1 General Alexsandr Rodimtsev (1905–1977) fought in the Spanish Civil War, under the name of ‘‘Pavlito.’’ He also fought at the defense of Stalingrad during World War II. He wrote several books, including the two-volume work, Under Spanish Skies, published in 1974. 196 FIGHTING FASCISM IN EUROPE Hqtrs. 238th Engr. Combat Bn. APO 230, NY, NY Eisleben, Germany 16 May 1945 My Darling; Today I had a rare treat. I met and talked to two former functionaries of the KPD (Communist Party of Germany). They have spent twelve years in the infamous concentration camp for politicals at Buchenwald. Twelve years! And they were still sane, in fair physical condition, and most important of all—the fire still burned bright within them. Theirs was a tale of personal tragedy and suffering, of steadfastness , loyalty and heroism so inspiring that I was thrilled and entranced . They told me about the first terrible days in 1933, when the Party organization was smashed and its leaders executed or jailed. Then the long terrible months and years in the camp. How they...