Smoke, smoke, and more smoke! About 10 km behind our small community, the wildfire is still burning out of control. Helicopters are droning overhead and dumping a mix of water and fire retardant on the inferno. In some nearby towns the smoke is so dense that people can barely see things across the street. So instead of posting more gloomy or rather fiery pictures I decided to go back in time to last year, when my wife and I went for a mountain hike on Mt. Scaia. At 7000 ft altitude, we relished the clean mountain air, the alpine flowers and the busy bumblebees visiting them. Enjoy.
On Monday, April 9, Captain Panknin received yet another marching order. German troops were retreating to Weimar, where he was supposed to report for duty. After hearing that the trains were no longer running in the area, he debated whether he should walk there or try to get somehow to Erfurt. He decided to go to the latter, where he received a decent meal and accommodation at the local police station. He complained in his diary that he had not taken a bath for several weeks. Also, the dirty clothes on his body began to bother him. But when he heard that Schmira was under attack by enemy shellfire and was burning, he realized that he had been lucky again and that life was more important than the temporary inconveniences caused by lack of hygiene and cleanliness.
Front Lines April 1945
The following night Opa wrote another letter to Mutti in the relative security of the HQ. At 23 hours, he had just stretched out on his bed when enemy shells exploded in closest proximity to the building, where Opa was trying to find some rest. He quickly rushed down the stairs to the basement that served as a bomb shelter. Many people from the neighbourhood were packing the already overcrowded facilities. Opa had to sleep in the hallway. But it was not a night of good sleep, as stragglers were stumbling over his cot. During these fitful moments of sleeplessness, he was debating in his mind whether he should attempt to walk to Weimar the very next morning. For all train services into and out of Erfurt had been discontinued. An inner voice advised him to stay put and wait with the other police force members until the end of these crazy chaotic conditions. I heard the desperate silent cry of despair while reading the question in his notes, “When will finally somebody come and take us prisoners?”
American Army at Erfurt April 12, 1945 – Photo: erfurt.de
At last American soldiers appeared at the basement door. An army captain was calling him and his bedraggled troop to come out of the basement. Earlier other German soldiers had put on civilian clothes. There was one among them who had some command of the English language. When the Gi’s stormed the building, he cried out with a pleading voice, “Don’t shoot. I am not a German Hitler soldier!” These were the final moments when around eight o’clock in the morning of April 12, 1945, Opa became a POW of the US forces in Thuringia.
First of all, a big thank you goes out to all my blogging friends for all the compassionate comments that you sent out to me while my wife and I were forced to leave our home first, then also our travel trailer on the other side of the Arrow Lake. I am sorry that during our exile I was unable to write comments even though I read most of your posts and left a like. We have been allowed to come back to our small community with the understanding that we should be vigilant and be aware that while the evacuation order has been rescinded the alert is still in effect. We are very happy that our home has not suffered any damage. Some of the flowers have wilted, but the garden has not suffered too much under the dry and hot conditions. Today, we took the ferry across the lake to visit our beloved beach and check on the trailer. Everything looked just the way as before. Here are a few photos of our little vacation spot at the lake. You can see that there is still smoke and haze in the air from the nearby forest fires. We hope that the wildfires are beginning to ease. Two days ago, we had our first substantial rain in more than six weeks. Thanks again for your patience!
Just a short message to all my fellow bloggers that due to the extreme hazard caused by the nearby wildfires we have been evacuated from our beloved community. Until the evacuation order has been lifted and until we can to return home, we will spend the time at our sons’ places in Vernon, Vancouver and Victoria. Until our return, I will not be able to publish new posts. I also ask you for your understanding that I will not have the time to write comments. Let us hope and pray that our home and our neighbours’ homes will be safe. Thank you for your patience!
The Octopus Creek fire (10 km south of Fauquier) seen from Edgewood on July 18. Photo: Jeannie Little
The following video should be entitled: Natural Horror of the Arrow Lakes. About 20 km south of where we live a wildfire caused by lightning is raging through steep and inaccessible terrain. The residents of Fauquier have received evacuation alerts from the provincial government. The smoke is so dense that the sun is hidden for most of the day. We can barely see the other side of the lake. I let the camcorder run for half an hour and then accelerated the video so it would fit into a 40 second runtime. Let us hope that the fire does not spread into our direction.
Fauquier has been evacuated. We now live in a trailer across the lake.
The following night Jepson invited Captain Panknin to sleep at his place. For the first time in weeks, Papa had a good night’s rest. Refreshed from a deep sleep, having recharged his internal batteries, he set out to go to the police HQ to receive further instructions. He had barely walked a few steps when Leipzig came under a sudden and unexpected aerial attack. The bombs were already falling when the sirens belatedly began their alarming howling in the city. An incendiary bomb plunged into a neighbour’s house, which almost immediately burst into flames. Papa helped the poor inhabitants with salvaging valuables from the burning inferno. His clothes singed by the fire and exhausted from the hard work, he arrived at the HQ, where to his greatest surprise, he was presented with yet another marching order, this time to Dresden-Hellerau. He had hardly received his provision for this eastern journey when the order was replaced by yet another, which sent him back to the latest hotspot at the western front near Weimar, where the Americans had launched a major offensive under General George Patton.
On April 8, shortly after midnight, he arrived by train at Weimar, where he went straight to the police HQ. By 06:15, he was climbing with a small troop under his command onto an army truck, which took him straight to the provisional front line near Erfurt. From there, they marched to Schmira amidst a barrage of shellfire and attacks from the air. Upon arrival, Papa looked in amazement at the bewildering array of the hastily set up feeble defence measures, most peculiar-looking anti-tank obstacles, and highly questionable battle preparations. It was dead quiet; the shellfire had suddenly ceased. Was it the calm before the storm? In the ominous stillness of impending doom, Papa found time in a nearby inn to write a letter to Mutti and family, which he passed on to a female communication aid to deliver it if at all possible to his wife in nearby Gotha. All day long, he could hear the droning of enemy planes over Erfurt. After a restful sleep in the basement of the police HQ, he felt his confidence returning, especially regarding Mutti and the children. He began to contemplate the best strategy to survive during the remaining few weeks of the war. In anybody’s reasonable mind, the fighting should stop. However, the regime-loyal fanatics were bent on dragging the German people into even greater misery than they had already suffered so far. Should he stay at the frontline and count on becoming a POW of the American forces? Or should he follow the marching order to Dresden, which was most likely already occupied by the Red Army and try his luck as a POW of the Soviet forces? As a higher ranking police officer, not quite fitting into the overall scheme of an increasingly chaotic defence plan, he had, in contrast to the common soldier, at least some freedom to move.
The Peter and Gertrud Klopp Family 