Germany

Chapter 21 of the P. and G. Klopp Story – Part V

/ Peter Klopp / 8 Comments

Army Heaven

Lake Starnberg, Bavaria - Photo Credit: bavaria.by

Lake Starnberg, Bavaria – Photo Credit: bavaria.by

Maxhof, a modern army training center, was a pleasant surprise to me. In contrast to the drab sameness of the 19th century design of the Falckenstein barracks, Maxhof impressed me with its pleasant appearance. It had more the looks of a hypermodern youth hostel than of a military building complex. Trees and ornamental shrubs surrounded the sleeping quarters, the cafeteria, and the administration building. There were even flowerbeds at the main entrance. Best of all was the room, where we were going to sleep. With its comfortable beds, its large windows with a view from the park-like setting all the way up to the nearby mountains, its brightly painted walls, a spacious desk for Gauke and me, all I needed was Mother’s fancy tablecloth, a vase with some pretty fall flowers to have the illusion of being at home.

Maxhof with Lake Starnberg in the background

Maxhof with Lake Starnberg in the background

Gauke and I reported for duty the following morning at the main building. There was a momentary kafuffle over us two soldiers from Koblenz. Apparently the officer in charge of the transfer was supposed to have provided certified truck drivers. The officer behind the counter was very much upset over being cheated out of two valuable experienced drivers. But in the end he assigned us to a driving instructor and informed us to show up for our lessons the very next morning. Gauke and I could hardly show restraint in our ecstatic joy over this most fortunate turn of events. Apart from our first positive impressions about the physical surroundings we noticed with glee that there were no mandatory line-ups, no check-ups of room, closet, and clothes; this was army heaven.

Massive Mercedes truck - the type we were trained on

Massive Mercedes truck – the type we were trained on

After two weeks of enjoyable driving lessons on the big Mercedes trucks, the compass needle of my inner life was no longer spinning out of control. More than three weeks had passed by now. Biene had not yet responded to my letter and I thought that if our correspondence was to end it should at least end on a good note. So I wrote,” … A relationship, no matter how you look at it, which had so beautifully and lovingly developed, is not the kind that we just break off. Something of that, which we shared, will remain open and will eat forever at our hearts. Therefore, I would like to amiably end, what we have so amiably started. Let us if not in reality then at least symbolically shake hands and without any bitter feelings part from each other. I am thankful for all the dear letters and tell you once more that you have given me much during the time of inner trouble and distress. Please do not turn down my last request, dear Biene, and write to me just one more time. One last sign from you, and I will be content…”

But there was no sign, and I was not content.

Chapter 21 of the P. and G. Klopp Story – Part IV

/ Peter Klopp / 12 Comments

One Misfortune Never Comes Alone

I was still reeling under the blow of the unexpected military transfer to Maxhof, Bavaria, when another one hit me like a bolt out of the blue. Biene wrote that she had met a young Dutch man by the name of Henk, to whom she was now engaged. They were dreaming about their own home at the edge of a forest near the city of Arnhem and were planning to get married. The news nearly tore me apart, all the more as Biene described our relationship as merely a nice correspondence between friends. Although my emotions were running high, I immediately responded to her letter and thanked her for being honest. It was a miracle of sort that I agreed to keep writing her. That promise was so terribly out of character, so contrary to what my pride and sense of honor would have allowed me to do that there was only one explanation. I was still in love with her.

Biene on Vacation at Lake Ammer 1963

Biene on Vacation at Lake Ammer 1963

Sleepless nights followed. I held endless conversations with myself. At times I would place the entire blame on my shoulders. Dieter was perhaps right, when he said that a kiss is more powerful than words, passion stronger than tender sentiments expressed merely in letters. Then the American folk song ‘On Top of Old Smokey’ was going through my mind during those agonizing hours of wakefulness. The apparent truth of the line ‘I lost my true lover for courting too slow’ hit me especially hard. Suddenly the pendulum swung into the opposite direction. For a short while, I found relief by putting the blame on Biene. ‘Surely, one does not get engaged overnight’, I argued. ‘Why didn’t she write me sooner? Why did she allow the correspondence to drag on so long? What about her other pen pals, the young man from Morocco for example? Does she want to keep all her options open? Is she like a bee, as her name implies, flying in a kind of romantic dance from flower to flower to see where she would find the sweetest nectar?’ Having experienced both ends of the emotional spectrum, I finally settled for a more balanced view. The wildly swinging pendulum was coming to rest in the middle. Concern for Biene pushed anger and jealousy aside; she might have responded to the lure of marital bliss too quickly. These internal monologues went on and on through several nights, at the end of which I was completely exhausted. But I had calmed down enough to finish my letter to Biene with the words, “Just one thing you must promise me. If you perceive a danger for your happiness in that you cannot distinguish between true friendship and love between a man and a woman or if your future husband does not like our correspondence, then have the courage to say goodbye. For I do not want to destroy your happiness.”

Frauenkirche, Munich, Bavaria - Photo Credit: wikipedia.org

Frauenkirche, Munich, Bavaria – Photo Credit: wikipedia.org

With my Phillips tape recorder in one hand and a heavy suitcase in the other, train tickets and army papers in my wallet, I stepped on the Intercity train to Munich. Private Gauke, whose first name I no longer recall, accompanied me to our destination. We were both in uniform, as this was a requirement when traveling on official assignments. While the high-speed electric train was rushing toward the Bavarian capital, Gauke tried to cheer me up by pointing out all the advantages of the prestigious truck driver’s license later in civilian life. But he succeeded only partly in pulling me out of my morose taciturn shell. He did not yet know about the other problem, for which the possession of a driver’s license offered no solution. In Munich we had to catch a local train to Starnberg. Thousands of passengers were milling about the main station. At the crowded automated billboard announcing arrival and departure times I spotted the wrinkled face of my former scout leader, Günther von A. He was as surprised to see me, as I was to see him. What were the chances of this occurring? Once in a million or less. And what were the chances of still being in love with Biene? The question made me think about fate and destiny, a topic that philosophers and theologians great and small have been grappling with for centuries, a can of worms, which I decided in my present state of mind to leave unopened.

 

Eine ergreifende Liebesgeschichte – 6. Teil

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Gespräch über „Gott und die Welt“

Gisela und Hartmut (Kegler Stammbaum Chart II a – III) lernten Albert während ihrer Verlobung kennen, die in Quitzöbel gefeiert wurde. Hier sorgten Vati und Jürgen, Muttis jüngerer Bruder, für lustige Unterhaltung. Hartmut führte an diesem Tag ein langes Gespräch mit Albert, das er bis heute nicht vergessen hat:

 

Eddas Taufe 1955 mIt Jürgen Hartmut Gisela

Eddas Taufe 1955 mit Jürgen, Hartmut und Gisela

Hartmut:

„An Eberhards Vater erinnert mich ein endlos langes, heftig geführtes Gespräch über „Gott und die Welt“. Ich vertrat damals die kirchliche Seite, er dagegen war überzeugter Atheist. Als ich später Ludwig Feuerbachs denkwürdige Schrift über das „Wesen des Christentums“ las, wuchs mein Respekt vor jenem streitbaren Gesprächspartner. Er erwies sich als ausgezeichneter Kenner der Bibel und argumentierte auf dieser Grundlage so folgerichtig, dass ich ihm mit meiner stümperhaften Theologie nicht gewachsen war. Das ärgerte mich auch gehörig, trug aber, als ich etwas vernünftiger wurde, auch zu meiner kirchenkritischen Einstellung bei. Ein einfacher Kutscher hatte einem jungen Akademiker geistig auf die Sprünge geholfen!“

 

Albert lebte vielleicht ein Jahr bei unseren Eltern. Als Eberhard an die Schule nach Baek versetzt wird und Familie Trampenau nach Gulow zieht, geht er in ein Altersheim nach Mecklenburg. Elisabeth hatte sich durchgesetzt!

 

In dieser Zeit hatte sich unsere Oma Hanna an der Hilfsschule in Bad Wilsnack als Lehrerin beworben und war auch dorthin versetzt worden. Sie bekam dort eine kleine Wohnung, zwei Zimmerchen mit Küche im ersten Stock, die nur über eine steile Treppe erreichbar war. Für Opa Manuel, der ja nur mit Krücken laufen konnte, war der Weg in die Wohnung sehr beschwerlich. Aber da es in der Ehe von Johanna und Emanuel ohnehin gerade ziemlich kriselte, wohnten Oma Hanna und Omchen zeitweise allein in Bad Wilsnack.

Edda 1956

Edda 1956

Auch Elisabeth, Eberhard und die kleine Edda besuchten sie hier von Zeit zu Zeit. Einmal, als auch Jürgen gerade dort war, wurde Edda, die gerade laufen konnte und daran gewöhnt werden sollte, ihr Geschäft auf dem Töpfchen zu verrichten, auf dasselbe gesetzt. Sie wollte aber nicht sitzen bleiben, stand immer wieder auf und tappelte zu Großmutter in die Küche. Jürgen setzte sie wieder hin, und als sie sofort wieder aufstehen wollte, brüllte er sie an: „Setz dich jetzt hin!!“. Edda, die sonst von Jürgen nur lustige Töne gewohnt war, plumpste mit fassungslos aufgerissenen Augen wieder auf den Topf, erledigte umgehend ihr Geschäft, und alle lobten Jürgen ob seiner pädagogischen Fähigkeiten.

Emanuel kam in Mellen sehr schlecht allein zurecht.

Dorfkirche mit Friedhofsansicht in Mellen - Photo Credit: Panoramio

Dorfkirche mit Friedhofsansicht in Mellen – Photo Credit: Panoramio

Jürgen(Kegler Stammbaum Chart II a – III) :

Nachdem Emanuel mit seiner ständigen Nörgelei allen die Nerven zersägt hatte, kam Hartmut bei einem seiner Besuche auf die Idee einer Scheidung. Wir, Elisabeth und ich, griffen das begeistert auf, Omchen schwieg sehr beredt dazu, denn Scheidung war in ihrem Lebensbild etwas Unanständiges. Hartmut drängte mit Argumenten, Elisabeth und ich emotional. Schließlich fuhr das scheidungswillige Ehepaar zum Amtsgericht in Perleberg vor den Scheidungsrichter. Ich war bei dem Termin dabei. Es gab keinen, der nach dem Gesetz schuldig war, und so wurde nach Scheidungsgründen gefragt. Weder Emanuel noch Johanna wusste so richtig darauf zu antworten, denn Nörgelei war kein Grund, und dass die Kinder es so wollten, auch nicht. Also entschied der Richter, sie mögen doch zu Hause noch einmal in Ruhe darüber nachdenken und schloss die Sitzung. Sichtlich erleichtert fuhren die Eheleute wieder nach Mellen zurück. Ich war überzeugt, wäre Emanuel nicht an Krücken gegangen, dann hätten die beiden das Amtsgericht Händchen haltend verlassen. Ich war natürlich enttäuscht, Elisabeth und Hartmut nicht minder.

Im Nachhinein, nachdem ich schon im Westen war und Emanuel verstorben, schien mir der Ausgang des Scheidungsversuches sehr glücklich, denn meine Mutter hätte sicher bis an ihr Lebensende an dem Selbstvorwurf gelitten, einen hilfsbedürftigen Menschen im Stich gelassen zu haben.

 

Oma Hanna und Omchen zogen – zu unserem Glück – wieder nach Mellen zurück.

 

 

Eine ergreifende Liebesgeschichte – 5. Teil

/ Peter Klopp / 4 Comments

Gewitterwolken am Horizont

In der nächsten Zeit wohnen unsere Eltern in Quitzöbel in der schönen Lehrerwohnung. Am 9. Juli 1954 legt Mutti am Institut für Lehrerbildung in Schwerin die Staatliche Abschlussprüfung ab und ist jetzt eine richtige Lehrerin mit Lehrbefähigung für die Unterstufe der allgemeinbildenden Schulen. Im September wird Edda geboren, und eigentlich könnte jetzt alles so schön sein, wie es sich die beiden immer erhofft hatten. Doch schon waren neue Gewitterwolken am Horizont aufgetaucht. Von je her werden unzählige Probleme, die bei jungen Paaren die Harmonie der trauten Zweisamkeit stören und zu Spannungen führen, von Eltern und Schwiegereltern verursacht, die meinen, ihre eigenen Erfahrungen seien tiefgreifend genug, um sie auch den jungen Leuten überstülpen zu müssen. Gutgemeinte Ratschläge, eine gewisse Rivalität gegenüber Schwiegertochter oder Schwiegersohn, zu häufige Anwesenheit machen es jungen Paaren oft schwer, ihren eigenen Weg zu finden, der auch eigene Fehler mit einschließt.

0022 Edda 1955 mit Eltern

Eberhard und Elisabeth Trampenau mit der kleinen Edda – 1955

In diesem Fall waren es Eberhards Eltern, die sich getrennt hatten. Während Minna bei ihrer Tochter Edula in Berlin lebte, war man übereingekommen, Vater Albert mit nach Quitzöbel in die Lehrerwohnung zu nehmen. Nun war Albert ein nicht ganz einfacher Mensch, so wie auch sein Leben nicht gerade einfach gewesen war. Geboren wurde er in Ostpreußen, und zwar als uneheliches Kind. Seine Mutter, die als Magd auf einem Gutshof arbeitete und sich mit dem Gutsherrn wohl mehr als gut verstand, behielt das Ergebnis dieses guten Verhältnisses, den kleinen Albert, nicht bei sich, sondern gab ihn in ein Heim, wohl weil es in der damaligen Zeit völlig unmöglich war, als ledige Mutter ein Kind großzuziehen. Albert prahlte später oft mit dem „blauen Blut“, das in seinen Adern fließe, vielleicht war es aber auch nur Zynismus, der von seiner nicht sehr glücklichen Kindheit ablenken sollte. Er war ein sehr kluger Mann, sehr belesen, ein Unikum, der die Leute oft mit Bauchreden verblüffte. Er hatte eine starke Abneigung gegen die Kirche und war nicht nur ziemlich neugierig, sondern oft auch streitsüchtig. Und so blieb es nicht aus, dass es nicht selten Zoff gab, vor allem zwischen ihm und Elisabeth.

In seinem grenzenlosen Wissensdurst inspizierte Albert regelmäßig nicht nur Schränke und Schübe, sondern auch den Mülleimer. Elisabeth war in ihrem Humor häufig nicht gerade zimperlich, und so machte sie sich einmal den Spaß, aus den Hinterlassenschaften in Eddas Windel kleine braune Kügelchen zu formen und gut sichtbar im Müll zu platzieren. Und wirklich, es hat geklappt, wenig später sah man Albert sich heftig und gründlich die Hände schrubben…

Chapter 21 of the P. and G. Klopp Story – Part III

/ Peter Klopp / 2 Comments

Storm Clouds on the Horizon

In the meantime Biene had an exciting vacation with her family in Bavaria, often went paddling on Lake Ammer with her parents’ folding boat. She and her twin brother Walter almost drowned, when their boat capsized in a violent storm. They traveled to the German Alps and even took a gondola ride up to the Zugspitze, which is with an altitude of 3000 m the highest mountain in Germany. She returned home filled with wonderful memories. There was so much to tell, but the flow of letters began to ebb. The intervals between them began to widen into two-week gaps. Something must have happened that made me worry. Had my letters lost its fervor? Were the thoughts expressed too philosophical, self-centered, out of touch with reality? I could not tell.

Biene and her father on the Zugspitze 1963

Biene and her father on the Zugspitze 1963

Fall was a beautiful time in Koblenz. The park at the German Corner, located at the confluence the Rivers Moselle and Rhine, was ablaze with brilliant red, yellow and orange colors. There I often sat on a park bench alone away from the noisy inner city and read about the fall and utter destruction of Rome’s rival Carthage in Mommsen’s History of Rome. I was fascinated to discover that the cause of the three Punic wars was the same as of most other conflicts in the history of mankind, namely the desire for economic power and growth at the expense of some other country. I gained important insights into the ways in which imperialistic expansions were intertwined with a general decay of the moral fiber of a nation. I saw so many parallels in our modern world that I contemplated writing a novella on the mighty city on the North African shore, if I could only add and weave in some personal experiences to the story to make it more interesting. These experiences were coming my way faster than expected, and in the end I got more than I had bargained for. Indeed I would have preferred not to write the novella in exchange for the pleasant status quo.

Deutsches Eck in Koblenz, Germany

Deutsches Eck in Koblenz, Germany – Photo Credit: wikipedia.org

I had just settled into the routine of orderly army life with its duties of monthly night watches, sessions of theoretical and practical instructions and the occasional maneuvers, which I enjoyed more and more, because they took place in the great outdoors away from the stuffy barracks in the city. Then a command from the newly formed signal corps at Maxhof in Bavaria went out to all army divisions to provide two truck drivers each. Our crafty commanding officer in Koblenz selected private Gauke and me for the transfer effective October 1st, even though we had no driver’s license for those colossal Mercedes communications trucks. Obviously, he wanted to keep his precious truck drivers for himself. We were told that we would receive professional training and certification that could be very useful later on, when we returned to civilian life. However, it was immediately clear to my that with the transfer to Maxhof, I would lose out on the chance of becoming part of the upcoming officer’s training program. It would upon successful completion raise me to the rank of a lieutenant of the reserve with a much higher pay-out at the end of my two-year term. The wheels had been set in motion. I had no recourse to an appeal process. The decision was final. I was devastated.

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Peter in a contemplative mood at home in Watzenborn-Steinberg

August Otto Wilhelm Klopp (1884 – 1886) – Part II

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Amazing Fertility in the Face of Death

The euphoria during the following two and a half years was almost without limits, even though P.F.W.Klopp’s milling business was on the decline. Around the time of Christmas 1884, most likely while they were still living in Magdeburg, Friedrich Klopp went about having another child. Anna, born on September 29, 1885, was the eighth child in the ever-growing Klopp family. Friedrich took his clan and moved back to Jersleben, where he found accommodation and presumably gainful employment with one of the three mill owners of his apprenticeship years. There he devoted his energies to the creation of yet another offspring and succeeded at the beginning of March 1886 in getting his wife expecting again.

Weekly Market in Today's Magdeburg - Photo credit: magdeburg.de

Weekly Market in Today’s Magdeburg – Photo credit: magdeburg.de

At the beginning of the same month on March 5, 1886 the sickly August Otto Wilhelm passed away at the age of one year and seven months. This early childhood death points to the poor standards of hygiene in the mill environment at Jersfeld of this era and highlights the tribute, which the family had to pay at their return to their home turf. The loss was bearable and soon forgotten.

Midland Canal near Jerleben - Photo Credit: wikipedia.org

Midland Canal near Jerleben – Photo Credit: wikipedia.org

During the weeks of Emma’s mourning 33-year-old husband Friedrich provided plenty of physical comfort and warmth, the result of which excluded any fear of extinction of the male lineage in the Klopp family.  Exactly nine months later on December 8, 1886, Wilhelm, the fifth son and by now the ninth child, made his entrance into the family. August Otto Wilhelm is the only Klopp child to be buried in the cemetery of the Jersleben church yard.