November was a hard month on me. I was in seventh grade at the Canadian School and had a music class from hell. Mr. Elliot, I have no doubt was a wonderful teacher and a gifted musician but he was unable to understand that there are people in this world whom have no sense of rhythm and can not play a musical instrument! He literally drove me to a nervous breakdown.
At the same time, father found out that Heisenberg was living in Munich and was very agitated to have learned this. When the doctor wrote my school a request for a few days off for me to just get away and recover, father threw me in the car and took me to Munich for a long holiday.
It was fun and I naturally assumed that father had gone to see his old professor, when he disappeared for so many hours one day. Coincidentally, Mr. Elliot did have a nervous breakdown and we ran into each other at the same hotel!
Fast forward to 1984 and I received a letter from my grandmother, it had been written in 1968! Unfortunately, I already knew she had died in 1974 - I had seen a letter in German laying on the table at my father's house announcing her death. So, I now knew for sure that father had lied to me for the length of his life about his family. So, I decided to run his family down and solve the mystery of my father.
At the end of three years, I now knew that father was not whom he claimed to be; I had his real birth certificate and a good piece of his real life's history.
I also discovered that the real man, whose name father had taken back in Wöbbelin - had work on the Italian train system following his release from Wöbbelin and retired to Munich in July of 1967. He had been murdered the very weekend I was in Munich with my father recovering.
Yet another coincidence in father's life? Or did father permanently silence the one man whom could unravel father's real identity ... ?
When you hide behind a wall of lies, well, there is no way you can be thought innocent. Luckily for father, there was nothing ever to tie him and that man together - only in this day and age, with the abundance of information can such a coincidence be ferreted out.
Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
All Those TDYs
Father was gone so much of the time from 1962 on, that one is forced to consider what it was the government had him up to! You can look at world events, look backwards in history later on, as well as, note interesting occurrences. In this case, occurrences may have more of a clue than usual and we knew almost instantly what was up once the German State Police raided the village!
I was in training to be a long distance runner, so every morning I was out the door at 5 am for a cross-country training practice at mother's insistance. Make no mistake, this was not my idea. But, there was a little shoemaker about half way through my run and I would spend several minutes with him every morning to keep my time average high for mother's records. He was a very nice man. Lets call him Hans.
Hans was in this later sixties, sort of a broken man I would call him. He knew almost nothing of the village history and carefully avoided all wartime discussions. He made himself more interesting than he should have been.
One Saturday morning, even before the cows were up, I ran past Hans' and noticed the shop in disarray, with no Hans. I ran for the Police. Not the friendliest people in town but they were honest and reliable. The Sargent was ash white when I told him Hans was missing. Within minutes, before I could even get out the door - there were several calls concerning missing citizens. The Sargent understood what I could not fathom. I jogged back past the shop and now the State Police were there and I was instantly detained for being "of interest".
One of the patrolmen sat and told me about how they were hunting Nazi war criminals and Hans had been one of those being sought. I then repeated how I had reported Hans' absence to the local police and had over heard of missing people all over the Pfaltz.... The officer swore, ran for the door and quickly sped away.
I quietly re-entered Hans' little shop and remembered the humor and fun we had enjoyed. I have always had the utmost respect for my elders, because they were interesting and I saw value in their knowledge. I saw Hans had dropped a vest pocket wallet, which I picked up. I burned the photos and papers inside, to his memory and perhaps protection. I kept his SS Identification, dated August 1944, issued in Odessa.
Father moved us from the village to military housing following this. There are no coincidences in life, one did not have to search far to find a similar SS Id Card carefully hidden amongst my father's papers. This I followed up with also collecting my uncle Fritz's as well. The three of them I imagine make quite a unique collection. I have yet to see even one, even in photographs on the internet. Hmmmmmm.....
However, this post is not about outlawed SS organizations, it is about the SS funding rocket research with the Egyptians in order to hasten the removal of the Jewish State in 1962 through 1967. Egypt finally went with the Russian Scud missile as its offensive deterrent to the Jewish "aggression". Nasser was nothing if not a scum bag himself.
As for father? That is a pretty easy one: he and his fellow team from the V-3 (A-9) were all in on the project. They all had the backgrounds, were all German and the three also had the nuclear background - because a missile has to deliver something! Was the US Military Intelligence involved? Was father and his friends all on contract to the Mossad? Military to CIA to Mossad? Certainly, enough of their co-workers met with horrible deaths back in Germany. Makes you wonder about their absences and whom exactly was fingering German Nationals and European suppliers..... Someone was feeding the Mossad and father was a Jewish convert after all. To further add to the discussion, he received his second Bronze Star just after the missiles failed to launch in 1967 War.
I was in training to be a long distance runner, so every morning I was out the door at 5 am for a cross-country training practice at mother's insistance. Make no mistake, this was not my idea. But, there was a little shoemaker about half way through my run and I would spend several minutes with him every morning to keep my time average high for mother's records. He was a very nice man. Lets call him Hans.
Hans was in this later sixties, sort of a broken man I would call him. He knew almost nothing of the village history and carefully avoided all wartime discussions. He made himself more interesting than he should have been.
One Saturday morning, even before the cows were up, I ran past Hans' and noticed the shop in disarray, with no Hans. I ran for the Police. Not the friendliest people in town but they were honest and reliable. The Sargent was ash white when I told him Hans was missing. Within minutes, before I could even get out the door - there were several calls concerning missing citizens. The Sargent understood what I could not fathom. I jogged back past the shop and now the State Police were there and I was instantly detained for being "of interest".
One of the patrolmen sat and told me about how they were hunting Nazi war criminals and Hans had been one of those being sought. I then repeated how I had reported Hans' absence to the local police and had over heard of missing people all over the Pfaltz.... The officer swore, ran for the door and quickly sped away.
I quietly re-entered Hans' little shop and remembered the humor and fun we had enjoyed. I have always had the utmost respect for my elders, because they were interesting and I saw value in their knowledge. I saw Hans had dropped a vest pocket wallet, which I picked up. I burned the photos and papers inside, to his memory and perhaps protection. I kept his SS Identification, dated August 1944, issued in Odessa.
Father moved us from the village to military housing following this. There are no coincidences in life, one did not have to search far to find a similar SS Id Card carefully hidden amongst my father's papers. This I followed up with also collecting my uncle Fritz's as well. The three of them I imagine make quite a unique collection. I have yet to see even one, even in photographs on the internet. Hmmmmmm.....
However, this post is not about outlawed SS organizations, it is about the SS funding rocket research with the Egyptians in order to hasten the removal of the Jewish State in 1962 through 1967. Egypt finally went with the Russian Scud missile as its offensive deterrent to the Jewish "aggression". Nasser was nothing if not a scum bag himself.
As for father? That is a pretty easy one: he and his fellow team from the V-3 (A-9) were all in on the project. They all had the backgrounds, were all German and the three also had the nuclear background - because a missile has to deliver something! Was the US Military Intelligence involved? Was father and his friends all on contract to the Mossad? Military to CIA to Mossad? Certainly, enough of their co-workers met with horrible deaths back in Germany. Makes you wonder about their absences and whom exactly was fingering German Nationals and European suppliers..... Someone was feeding the Mossad and father was a Jewish convert after all. To further add to the discussion, he received his second Bronze Star just after the missiles failed to launch in 1967 War.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Germany
Germany was a bit different than France, in almost all regards. For instance, our forced removal from France was in December - we arrived at Kaiserslautern on a Sunday I believe. Monday morning my sister and I were arrested for not being in school! Yeah. Just playing on the swing set at the hotel and boom! off to police holding. As Germany was to prove, it was not the friendliest of places to live, unless you appreciate complete control freaks.
It was also the place where father changed radically. In Portland, following the Cuban Missile Crisis, father was rarely to be found. In France he was around the home a great deal of the time. But, in Germany, he was gone for most of the time on Temporary Duty Assignments. Yes the world was a crazy place in 1967 and 1968. We knew where he was to be, we usually knew what was going on from the news, but his absences to those places often ran weeks longer than the actual news event. It was mystifying to this young man.
On the plus side, mother suffered no more almost fatal "accidents". But she did become the family control freak - attempting to micro-manage a teen male and that did not go very well - especially since she was barely twice my age as it was! Of course, when father was home I would catch hell and he became increasingly physically abusive.
There had been times in Portland when I can remember he would come home and just beat the tar out of me, whip me until I bled, for some ill thought out prank. But, there was once I could agree that I had that level of punishment coming. That was the time I pulled a knife on him to protect myself from phase II of his abuse. Bad idea, when you do not really know how to use a knife for defense. In Germany, it became worse. I swear if I opened my mouth, it was going to be filled with his fist. That little arrest incident over playing on the hotel swings, brought on one of the most unjust of all beatings - especially since my sister received no punishment at all. Somehow, I was to have known better than to play in a playground on a Monday morning..... So I tried to stay away from him and the family as much as possible. Oh yeah, I was beaten for that as well.
And honestly, I have no idea what our being in Germany had to do with his escalating violence towards me in particular. But, even Germany itself was not exactly a great place back then either - as I will discuss later.
It was also the place where father changed radically. In Portland, following the Cuban Missile Crisis, father was rarely to be found. In France he was around the home a great deal of the time. But, in Germany, he was gone for most of the time on Temporary Duty Assignments. Yes the world was a crazy place in 1967 and 1968. We knew where he was to be, we usually knew what was going on from the news, but his absences to those places often ran weeks longer than the actual news event. It was mystifying to this young man.
On the plus side, mother suffered no more almost fatal "accidents". But she did become the family control freak - attempting to micro-manage a teen male and that did not go very well - especially since she was barely twice my age as it was! Of course, when father was home I would catch hell and he became increasingly physically abusive.
There had been times in Portland when I can remember he would come home and just beat the tar out of me, whip me until I bled, for some ill thought out prank. But, there was once I could agree that I had that level of punishment coming. That was the time I pulled a knife on him to protect myself from phase II of his abuse. Bad idea, when you do not really know how to use a knife for defense. In Germany, it became worse. I swear if I opened my mouth, it was going to be filled with his fist. That little arrest incident over playing on the hotel swings, brought on one of the most unjust of all beatings - especially since my sister received no punishment at all. Somehow, I was to have known better than to play in a playground on a Monday morning..... So I tried to stay away from him and the family as much as possible. Oh yeah, I was beaten for that as well.
And honestly, I have no idea what our being in Germany had to do with his escalating violence towards me in particular. But, even Germany itself was not exactly a great place back then either - as I will discuss later.
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