World War II Nostalgia, Part 1

I recently revisited the mini-series "Winds of War" and "War and Remembrance" and remembered how much I loved these stories - how they told a fictional story so well against the details of history. It made me nostalgic for some time I spent in Europe as a student of Political Science.

I went to Germany in High School and then to university there at Freiburg in Breisgau in 1986-87. During that time, I did a lot of traveling through Europe, even across the Iron Curtain, which is now just a memory. I am a huge history buff and this opportunity was wonderful.

I was always fascinated by European History and WWII in particular. The history is so filled with drama, tension, heroism and horrors, you just can't make it up - it is so incredibly real. And the emotions remain strong. I remember a time visiting a flea market in France near Mulhouse, when I came across some silver ware with Nazi markings. I was at this flea market with a German friend of mine. I showed him the silver ware and remarked that I found it interesting. He was annoyed and told me to put it down. I asked him later why he was so upset and he remarked that the items were stolen off "dead German soldiers by the French" and should not be sold like that at the flea market.

I was floored. Here was this very modern guy who had no love of the Nazi past, but who was still somewhat moved when presented with this artifact. Personally, it seemed to me that the French had every right to take it from their invading enemy.

I would find out later that my friend felt very uncomfortable about all things Nazi. It turns out that his grandfather was a Nazi party member and had been taken prisoner by the Russians. His grandmother and father were bombed out of their homes by the Americans in late 1944. They were not reunited until almost 1949, when the Soviets finally released the remaining German POWs.

My friend was sensitive to the entire subject. I want to stress that he and his family were in no way Nazi sympathizers, but the war left scars on his family and that was clear even 40 years later. He did eventually allow me to meet with his grandparents and talk about their experiences. It was fascinating to hear first hand what they experienced. And they treated me with great respect, and even seemed very thrilled to have a willing listener. His father was also interesting to talk with, he was very young when the Americans occupied their city, but he clearly remembered American soldiers treating the children very well, and even giving them candy.

Getting this perspective was a very unique experience. And what it really drove home to me was the fact that we are all the same, no matter where we live on this Earth. At that time, we were still in the midst of the Cold War, and I was off to East Germany and Czechoslovakia. I wanted to prove to myself that this same feeling could be found there, a place where I had been propaganda-ed since birth to believe is my enemy.

More on that experience later....