Memories of Kreisau and the German Resistance by Freya von Moltke

Author:Freya von Moltke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-07-23T11:50:00+00:00

Marion Yorck and I traveled from Berlin to Kreisau on 25 January 1945. Edith and Henssel took us to the train. They had the nicest sandwiches for us, and Marion had a bottle of very old Malaga. The bottle was wrapped in paper or in a napkin; it looked as though it were coffee with milk. Marion and I sat closely together on a little two-seater bench in third class. We were traveling against the flood of refugees and so it took exactly twenty-four hours to get to Kreisau, but in my memory it was a good trip. I think we were quite cheerful. No one in Kreisau knew yet about Helmuth's death. Wend was there with Asta, and eight or nine soldiers, a whole antiaircraft unit, had come with him. Frau Pick, Helmuth's former housekeeper in Berlin, was happy to be busy cooking for all these men. Ulla Oldenbourg, with her companion, had already been with us for months, and Maria Schanda was also there. Marion traveled immediately on to Nimptsch, where Muto (Irene Yorck) practiced medicine but was currently sick in bed with diphtheria. It was very difficult for me to tell little Caspar about his father. He lay in my bed, where he had slept; I sat on the edge. But we got through it and on the next morning when he saw that I was sad, he asked, "Because of Pa? Still?!" That was really a great comfort.

Everything was a mess. The Russians quickly advanced west. The house, the manor, and the village had been full of [German] refugees from the other side of the Oder [River] for several weeks. In the Berghaus they were staying in the living rooms. Their cart stood unhitched at the house, and the farm below was full of the trekking carts of others. Something had to be done; everyone was undecided. Looking back, the days seemed to me like weeks until the original manor inhabitants, the children, the Zeumer daughters-both of whom, like Asta, were expecting a child-until Ulla and her companion, and Asta herself departed from Schweidnitz to the West with the hospital train. It must have been in the early days of February. Wend and his "little men," as Frau Pick called them, had already left. His small unit had to protect an especially valuable piece of equipment. This task gave them the marvelous opportunity to clear out again and again. They couldn't stay with us anyway. There was snow on the ground, and we traveled in two sleds to Schweidnitz in order to take the travelers to the hospital train. Asta sat facing the back in the first sled; I sat in the second sled facing the front. I can still see her sad, quiet face. It emerged again and again, filled with silent grief. What would become of all of us? Then the first sled pulled forward and Asta's face disappeared. Ten minutes later we caught up with them, and again her face emerged with the same expression.

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