My Dad's Story: Lithuania to Bavaria: Part 3

I asked my dad how his family went all the way from Lithuania to Bavaria in Germany during World War II. He's telling me the story in installments. I thought that some of you might find this story interesting. Here's part 3.

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I don't know how much time was spent in the Czech camp or traveling by intermittent train. But anyway, we arrived in Berlin after dark. The train stopped in a big railroad yard and we were told that we couldn't leave until morning. This was worrisome because the British carried out nightly air raids and railroad yards were a priority target. So the men on the train fanned out and covered every light they could see in the yard. I don't know if because of that or other factors, the British raid came but they clobbered a part of the city near the yard with no damage to the yard itself.

Our next destination was Munich, the largest city in Bavaria. By the time we got there it was the start of winter. I don't know how she did it but my mom found an old german farmer and offered to do all his food preparation and cleaning in return for food and board.. The farmer was a veteran of World War I with only one eye. His other eye socket was empty. I'm afraid I couldn't help staring at him because it was the first empty eye socket I had seen. My mom made me pitch in with the work. I was responsible for grinding up meat for putting into sausages. This was something I could handle but it was very boring. Occasionally there would be some gristle or a piece of bone in the meat which would cause the meat grinder to jam so that I could hang on the handle with my whole weight and not be able to budge it. We stayed with the farmer through the winter until we were placed in another refugee camp in early 1945, the subject of the next installment.

PSA

I just had a copy from LJ to DW work, so it's working right now.

My Dad's Story: Lithuania to Bavaria: Part 4

I asked my dad how his family went all the way from Lithuania to Bavaria in Germany during World War II. He's telling me the story in installments. I thought that some of you might find this story interesting. Here's part 4.

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If I sound vague about timing and dates I have to remind you that at the time I was three years old. Sometime during the winter we moved from the farmer to refugee housing. This wasn't any kind of camp, it was just an apartment type of building outside the city. In April, 1945 my mom and I were outside preparing a garden so we could plant some vegetables.

Now a brief digression to what the war situation was like. The allies ruled the air. American fighters and bombers ranged at will over Bavaria shooting up everything in sight. The American fighters were P-51 Mustangs, a new very fast fighter armed with six .50 caliber machine guns, three on each wing. They employed a new tactic to prevent detection so that the enemy couldn't seek shelter once air raid sirens went off. The tactic was called hedge hopping where they would fly very close to the ground so they wouldn't be seen or heard except when they were already over the observer. By the time the observer reacted and set off the air raid siren the fighter was long gone.

While my mom and I were in the garden a P-51 spotted us and came in firing. The only reason we weren't turned into hamburger was that he was so low. The machine guns on the plane are angled toward the center so they all send rounds into a focal point in front of the plane. This is for air-to-air combat so all six guns would strike a target simultaneously far enough ahead of the plane so the pilot could maneuver his plane so it wouldn't hit any debris from the target. Because he was so low we were closer than the focal point of his guns, and the guns just added minerals to the soil on either side of us. The pilot realized his error and made a climbing turn to make another pass. So we did the only thing we could do, we disappeared. At least that's what it must have seemed like to the pilot. The actual situation was there was a shelter in the garden just large enough for one adult and luckily, one small child. The shelter was constructed of the same dirt as the garden and it was roofed over with the same dirt so it was invisible from the air.

It was clear to the pilot that we were a woman and small child yet he attacked us and was prepared to make another attempt when he missed. Later in the month on a nice day my mom and I climbed to the top of a hill in the vicinity to enjoy the sunshine. A Soviet fighter flew over. We know he spotted us because he wig-wagged his wings to say hi! Quite a contrast to the American.

The next installment will take us to the end of the war in Europe in the next month, May, 1945.