The City in Flames by Elisabeth von Berrinberg

Author:Elisabeth von Berrinberg [Berrinberg, Elisabeth von]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, Europe, Germany, Military, World War II, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages)
Amazon: B00DSQEMLQ
Publisher: Berrinberg Publications
Published: 2013-07-03T16:00:00+00:00

Water barrel artillery

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Chapter Twelve

Village Life

Standing in line in Würzburg was a tiring experience, but here it was even more exhausting. The village was not prepared for the sudden rise in population, and more and more refugees arrived seeking shelter. This situation affected everyone. The bakers could not keep up with the demand for bread, and many times a long wait, often in a line the entire length of the main street, was in vain.

Rules made by the shopkeepers were grudgingly obeyed by the villagers. One such rule allowed only one loaf of bread per family. Everyone knew each other, and no one was able to break this rule. But we were strangers, and we hoped that might be an advantage for us. We arrived at the bakery at different times. We stood at reasonable distances from each other and by no means let it be known we were related. With this plan we hoped to buy three loaves in one day. But the woman behind the counter noticed a certain resemblance between my sister and me. Identical twins. Of course! We should have known better. Well, we got two loaves among the three of us, and in only two hours of waiting, which was more than we hoped for.

The next trip, however, was again in vain. After four and a half hours of waiting, my mother, together with the rest of the people in line, was told to come back the next day. Choked with tears, she walked back to her bicycle. But as she rounded the corner of the building, the unmistakable smell of freshly baked bread wafted toward her. Tracing the aroma, she found herself in the storage room of the bakery, surrounded by shelves, all of them filled with still-steaming loaves of bread.

“Hallo, ist jemand da?” she called out.

My mother was determined not to return home empty-handed. If she could persuade the baker to make an exception and sell her a loaf of bread, she would at least not have to fear being turned away again the next day.

She called again, “Hello, anybody here?” Still no answer. She was about to give up when an idea struck her. I’ll just take a loaf and leave the money for it on the shelf, she thought. Quickly she grabbed a loaf. As she searched for her billfold, she heard footsteps coming from the basement stairs. Now that she had the bread in her possession, it could be a nasty situation if she got caught. She left the room in haste. It was not until she was pedaling her bike along the country road that she realized what she had done.

“May God forgive me for what I have done,” my mother muttered when she set the bread before us.

“What happened?” my sister asked.

“Not a word to Papa!” she said and made us promise; she told us what happened.

Having become a thief bothered her so much that she confessed her misdeed to the baker—though not until a long time after the incident.

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