Armin Scheiderbauer - Adventures in My Youth

In my service in connection with the Marschbataillon I was under no supervision. For example, I could allow myself the advantage of prolonging the lunch break. I spent it in the officers’ mess, followed by a visit to a coffee-house. How important those few visits to the coffee-house became, I will relate later in another connection.

I got to know the commander of the Marschbataillon that I had to train. He was a man with a remarkable history. Major Norbert Freisler was born about 1890 and came from Neutitschein in Moravia. He had already been an active officer in the old Imperial Austrian Army. In September 1914, something of which he was proud, as an Oberleutnant , he had been awarded the Militärverdienstkreuz III Klasse . But at that time he had immediately been taken prisoner by the Russians and had been in Siberia until about 1920.

He was one of the few officers who went into the Czech army, or rather who was taken over into the Czech army. He struggled during his service to reach the rank of Staff Captain. He said it was the highest rank he could attain as a German. After he was taken over into the Wehrmacht he became a Major . Because of his excellent command of Russian he was used with the Russian volunteer units, the so-called Vlassow-Armee . In the context of that service he was made commandant of the group of Lofoten Islands off the Norwegian mainland. He was a small, white-haired man, a ‘wiry’ character with an expressive face and a lively temperament. He liked chatting with me and could tell riveting stories.

The officers’ mess of our infantry barracks was, as is usual in barrack buildings, a separate building with several large lounges. Naturally, you only went to table when the commander had arrived, and only began to dine when he had picked up his spoon. The German army at that time was the first army in the world that made no distinction between the portions of officers and men. But the advantage of the food in the officers’ mess was that a good cook ran the kitchen and she was able to use the rations that were assigned more economically and to cook more appetisingly. So the food cooked there for perhaps 20 to 50 officers was much better and of greater variety than the food provided for the 1000 or more members of the Ersatz battalion and the training unit.

In the kitchen of the officers’ mess I got to know the famous Schlesische Himmelreich that until then I had only known from soldiers’ tales. It consisted of very soft, almost melting, yeast dumplings with stewed plums or mixed fruit. The unique point was the addition of finely diced smoked meat, through which the dish received a distinctively spicy flavour. After lunch I usually withdrew into one of the many armchairs, where you could stretch out your legs and doze undisturbed. To me the gentlemen’s evenings were no longer as exciting as they had been in Mörchingen. The reason was that by then only a minimal amount of alcohol was dispensed. Only on 20 April 1944, for the Führer’s birthday, was there a celebration dinner and unlimited drinks. I remember that, for me and my close comrades, it was an hilarious celebration. I played the piano, and it lasted well into the night. ‘Enjoy the war, for the peace will be terrible’, was the sarcastic refrain.

A celebration of a quite different kind followed. As I reported to Hauptmann Brandt, the battalion commander, a colonel by the name of Werner was also present. I knew the latter from the Hindenburg-Hof. He was head of the army film unit that had moved from Berlin and had for some time been stationed in Schweidnitz. He had his quarters, as befitted his rank, in Kammrau, the estate of Count Kayserling located about eight miles from Schweidnitz. Werner informed me that on the following Saturday a birthday celebration was taking place for his granddaughter. They were one gentleman short, so I was to take that place. I then learnt they had been keeping their eyes open for a socially skilled young officer and had lighted on me.

It was to be an interesting experience. Until then I had never been in a house of the nobility of the eastern Elbe. Oberst Werner took me with him on the Saturday afternoon in his service car. Kammrau was a little village within the estate. It consisted of several farm buildings and a small castle. The lord of the manor was, if I remember correctly, a nephew of the philosopher Kayserling. The family was from the Baltic nobility and the Count himself had been a Chamberlain of Kaiser Wilhelm II.

I remember a series of interconnecting rooms, the last of which was the Count’s study. All the rooms were tastefully and in some cases opulently furnished. There were many pictures, paintings and photographs with dedications, especially portraits of his Majesty. The Count, to whom I was only briefly introduced, was somewhat small and had a bald patch. He had the air of a private scholar and not of the owner of an estate. The dominant personality in the house was perhaps the 70 years old Countess who involved me in a lengthy conversation. She radiated a natural nobility. Of the other guests, with the exception of Oberst Werner, I have no recollection, but I do recall the younger people.

First there was the birthday girl who had just reached the age of 25, Baroness Viola von Richthofen. Her brother was a Leutnant of Reserve in an infantry uniform. He had lost a kidney as a result of being wounded. The father of young Richthofen was Lothar von Richthofen, brother of the famous Manfred, the red fighter pilot. He too was a fighter pilot holding the Pour Le Mérite . He had met his death in about 1930 as a civilian pilot. He had married the daughter of the house in which the two grandchildren grew up. Viola was a Red Cross sister in a Breslau military hospital. Blonde and blue-eyed, she was friendly, natural and almost maternal.

It appeared that her friend was a Fräulein von Garnesse, from a Huguenot family. Reddish blonde, particularly slim and tall was a Bezigna von Rohr, an uncomplicated young lady from the country nobility and the opposite of the governess type of Fräulein von Garnesse. The youngest was a Fräulein von Karlowitz, full of life and very pretty. She soon told me that her brother was a Panzer Oberleutnant from the Sagan regiment and was by then in Baden near Vienna. Of the young men, in addition to the Richthofen grandson, there was a commoner school friend, who had had infantile paralysis and thus was not fit for military service. Nevertheless he wore his disabled sports badge with pride. Then there was also the signals unit Oberleutnant , ‘Conny’ von Falkenhausen. He was perhaps 25 years old, with long hair slicked down, which, together with his general appearance gave him the dashing air of a greyhound.

Of course it was part of the visit to have a look round the stables and the farm buildings and to walk through the nearby estate area. There was a little castle pond, with water-lilies floating on it. The conversation was free and easy and lively. It turned out that a room had been prepared for me to spend the night, provided with a toothbrush, naturally! In the absence of a special invitation, I had not brought one with me. Before dinner we gathered in the drawing rooms for an aperitif and when the gong sounded, we went in to dinner. To celebrate the birthday the ladies were escorted to the table. A gentleman had to bow to the nearest lady and offer her his arm. The table was round and big enough for 12 people to be seated round it fairly comfortably. The dishes were of wartime fare and thoroughly ‘unaristocratic’. They were brought, by means of a lift, from the kitchen in the undercroft of the house, then placed on a revolving platform in the middle of the table. The revolving table meant that the need to pass dishes round was avoided.