John Stieber - Against the Odds - Survival on the Russian Front 1944-1945 [2nd Edition]

Leaving school in Carlow meant that I would have to prepare intensively for a complete change of syllabus and in a different language. All studying was to be done at home and the teaching shared between my father and my mother. A syllabus was requested from the school in Eger; I was taken out of the National School and began to study, following a detailed curriculum that my parents had prepared for me.

My father taught me mathematics, German grammar and literature while my mother concentrated on geography, history and Czech. I had hoped to have seen the last of the Czech language, but here I was back again struggling with its difficult pronunciation and grammar. My parents must have gone to a lot of trouble taking on this onerous chore and I remember working very hard and spending long hours at my lessons. Life had certainly been a lot easier at the National School.

When 1938 arrived and I had successfully completed a year’s study, my parents felt that they did not want to be parted from me so soon. It was then decided that I should stay at home for another year and that I would prepare for the next higher class. As I concentrated on my studies over the next months, a number of political developments concerning Czechoslovakia took place. On 24 May, Konrad Henlein, the leader of the Sudeten-German Party, called for autonomy for all Sudeten-Germans. On 20 June, partial mobilisation was introduced in Czechoslovakia and on 30 September, the fateful Munich Agreement on the acquisition of the Sudetenland by Germany was signed by Hitler, Mussolini, Chamberlain and Daladier.

I had no inkling about how portentous these developments were, and I never got the impression that my parents were worried. My studies continued, there was no change of plan and I went on enjoying my idyllic existence in Carlow. One result of the Sudetenland being taken over by Germany was that it was no longer compulsory for me to learn Czech and, to my great relief; it was dropped from the syllabus.

My father had kept up his love for motoring during our years in Carlow and we covered a large mileage every year. Most of our holidays were spent on the east coast, usually at Arklow or Ballymoney Strand and I always had a wonderful time. We slept in a four-berth caravan and had a ridge tent with table and chairs that was used as a dining room. A second ridge tent accommodated our live-in help, provisions and kitchen equipment. Cooking was done outside on an army-type stove and my mother continued to treat us to elaborate meals served on spotless linen in our dining tent. I was never keen on swimming, but the lovely beaches and holiday friends kept me happily occupied all day long.

At the beginning of 1939, my parents decided that my switch to the school in Eger should not be delayed any longer. For some time they had also spoken of sending Erika abroad to complete her schooling and it seemed to be a good idea that she and I should be within reasonable visiting distance of one another. It was arranged that I should enter my new school for the spring term. Erika was to go to a “finishing school” in Bad Harzburg, a spa in central Germany. To help us over the move, my mother was to accompany us and to remain until we had both settled down. I can give no clear reason why my parents sent us to school in Germany in the spring of 1939, of all times, apparently without any apprehension about the political storm gathering over Europe. They must have felt confident that Hitler would ensure that all German-speaking people in the Sudetenland would have full security. Since I had been geared up for the school in Eger, and had already been kept in Carlow longer than planned, it seemed that the move should be delayed no longer. It was probably assumed that Erika would be safe in Germany anyway. My parents might also have expected that we could get back home at short notice if necessary.

Whatever the reason was, we set off for Germany just after Easter. We were booked on the American cruise ship Manhattan from Cobh to Hamburg. Since the ship was too large to berth in the harbour of Cobh, all passengers had to go out to it by tender. My father came out onto the ship with us and there we said our goodbyes. We all put on a brave front at this, the first big parting in our life. Erika was now just over sixteen years of age and I was twelve.

Our trip from Cobh to Hamburg took three days and included stops in Southampton and Le Havre. After swinging into the estuary of the river Elbe, the ship had to travel a further fifty miles before it reached the docking area in Hamburg. There was much to be seen and I spent the rest of the journey running from side to side of the ship so that I would miss nothing. Some two hours after entering the estuary, the Manhattan tied up at its berth. A new stage in my life had begun.

In due course, we set off by train for Karlsbad. My mother was to live in Aunt Hella’s house while she went about getting me settled in Eger and Erika in Bad Harzburg. It was a long day’s journey to Karlsbad, but Erica and I were used to travelling over much longer distances. Of course, the high standard of catering provided on continental main-line trains went a long way toward making tedious journeys more pleasant.

When we arrived in Karlsbad, my aunt was at the station and greeted us bubbling over with excitement. A surprise awaited us when got a taxi and I saw that it was not a motor car, but the customary horse-drawn carriage. Aunt Hella explained that all motorised traffic, including public transport, was banned from the centre of the town so that pollution and unnecessary noise were eliminated.

I was amazed at the quietness of our ride. The reason for this was that the roads were paved with wooden setts which muffled the sound of the horse’s hooves. Soon I saw similar carriages, called Fiaker, everywhere, as they bowled along silently on their rubber-lined wheels while only the muted clip-clop of the horses’ hooves could be heard.

Riding through Karlsbad, it struck me how beautifully the town was kept. Old buildings were perfectly preserved and window-boxes could be seen everywhere. My aunt lived in a detached villa in the suburb of Dönitz which bordered on extensive woodlands. I was delighted to discover that Uncle Anton was a man with a dry humour who always had a twinkle in his eye when he spoke. He had recently retired as professor of science in a third-level college in Eger.

The next day I packed all my essential belongings into a suitcase and left with my mother for Eger. Our first call there was to the students’ hostel, the Morawetzer Schülerheim, a large and attractive building in the suburbs with a big garden at the front and a hard-surface playground behind. It had accommodation for 200 boys in ten dormitories. Half-board was provided during the week and full-board on weekends for those who required it. After meeting the director, my mother and I set off to visit my new school.

The Realgymnasium was not much more than half a mile away so we decided to walk. A pleasant downhill stroll to a bridge over the river Eger soon brought us to the somewhat forbidding-looking entrance of my school. The principal, a tall and pleasant man, showed us around some of the classrooms and then gave me instructions regarding the following morning, which was the start of the new school term. Our final task was to purchase a bicycle that I could use in Eger and for trips further afield. After my mother had taken the bus to Karlsbad, I felt sad over the parting, but this feeling soon gave way to an excited anticipation and a sense of freedom as I set off for the students’ hostel on my bike.

That evening I had the unaccustomed experience of finding myself among a huge number of fellow-students. Shy by nature, I expected other boys to speak to me, but they all seemed to know each other and mainly ignored me. When I went to bed later on, the stark appearance of the dormitory did little to alleviate my sense of loneliness and the novelty of sleeping on an upper bunk-bed was the only diversion that captured my interest.