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162 D Chapter Forty-Seven d the War Closes in The people of Berlin groaned under the brutal assaults from above, which turned the once proud capital into a not so proud mountain of debris.The British RoyalAir Force,with vast supplies of air mines on board, kept attacking at night. Only after such a device had hit its target did one hear the terrible swishing noise it made on the way down. To assure perfect aim, the pilots now dropped luminous devices, appropriately named “Christmas trees” by the Berliners, in order to illuminate the scene before unloading their precious cargo. The American raids took place in broad daylight and were exclusively directed at industrial centers.We learned to almost enjoy watching them from the garden, flying at high altitude above the house in majestic formation,ignoring the furious attacks by the German flak battalions.Rarely,it happened that a plane was hit and,after going into a spin,ultimately plunged to the ground in a fiery ball.If the pilot made it to safety by parachute,he was faced with the possibility of being lynched by an outraged mob before the authorities arrived. With the Soviets rapidly approaching from the east and,at a somewhat faster pace,the Western Allied ground forces from the west, we nursed the hope of being liberated by the British or the Americans. Now voices were heard from those who had so far loudly praised every German victory in Russia,labeling the Russians as untermenschen,subhumans.Something must have changed their minds,because they assured everyone that,even if the impossible became fact and the Red Army reached Berlin, we had little, if anything, to fear. They would march into the city in an orderly formation, probably with military bands playing those wonderfully rich and moving Russian folk songs, eager to set a shining example for the whole world to watch! Basically,they maintained,Russians were good-natured children, dim-witted but eager to pick up the German culture.Others expressed the weird theory that intentionally luring the enemy deep into the heart of Germany was probably the führer’s most ingenious strategic move. The Red soldiers, in awe of so much German civilization, would simply be too embarrassed to display anything but their best behavior. While certainly no match in discipline to the orderly Germans, the Soviets could simply not afford to behave in anything but an exemplary manner. Orderly Germans? Like the German intruders? The Einsatzgruppen? The SS? The torturers and the henchmen in the concentration camps who did not hesitate to string up their own compatriots by piano wires on meat hooks? After the hell endured by the Russian people at the hands of the invaders, the SS and the Wehrmacht alike, thousands of towns and Destruction unlimiteD 163 villages erased from the face of the Earth, the violent deaths of millions deeply imprinted in their memory, they would be eager to demonstrate exemplary behavior to their tormentors ? We just could not believe our ears. Back at the academy,during one night in early January,we were awakened by the rumbling , ground-shaking noise of distant thunder. A thunderstorm in the middle of winter? Since there were no accompanying flashes of lightning,we soon grasped that what we heard was the unmistakable sound of ground battle fire, probably Russian field artillery. The following morning,Pavlik whispered into my ear that,according to the unfailing POW grapevine ,“Russian brothers come soon.Du nixAngst.You nix fear,Pawlee protect,”he reassured me. During the following weeks, a pathetic and never-ending procession of vehicles began to clatter down the main street, ranging from makeshift hand-pulled carts, covered wagons , and elegant coaches pulled by dead-tired and emaciated horses, among them exquisite thoroughbreds. Some of the vehicles had been turned into regular little huts, equipped with roofs and smoking chimneys on top,dogs running underneath.They were packed with mountains of household goods, bedsteads, and bedding. The fugitives from East and West Prussia, from Pomerania and Silesia, on the frozen roads for weeks,had left everything behind in fear of being caught by the SovietArmy.Bundled up against the cold, some of the old men’s beards had turned to icicles. They told stories too horrible to be believed, of farmhouses set ablaze by the Mongols and Tatars, mass rapes of eighty-year-old women as well as five-year-old girls, while the farmers were nailed to the barn doors. All...

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