The radio

By May of 1944, the daily barrage of victory news on German
radio had ceased. After events in North Africa and the Allied
landings in Italy, Germany went from an offensive to defensive
posture overnight. Our news reports were undoubtedly censored, but
over time a vivid picture still developed that didn’t bode well for
Germany. Nazi commentators couldn’t totally gloss over the bad news
from the east and west. Every setback on the battlefronts resulted
in more deprivation at home. The real truth was all around us,
and it gave more and more people the courage to risk turning to
another source of information — the BBC German language broadcasts.

It may seem ridiculous that we feared being caught listening to
foreign radio. Naturally, it was impossible to police every radio
in every German kitchen and living room, but in a totalitarian
state, constant surveillance in each village and town wasn’t
necessary to establish fear. You worried about the neighbors and
their possible ambitions in and loyalty to the regime. The Gestapo
didn’t need an agent in every block, only people willing to report
the sins of their neighbors.

The shortages in food and materials for the civilian
population worsened, compounded in 1943 and 1944 by the poor
potato harvests. The scarcity of this main staple in our diet did
as much as anything to dampen German spirits. In the past, any
shortages were supplemented by shipping the product in from
another place, but bombing and strafing attacks on transportation
made this nearly impossible.

(Erich was home on a short leave from the Navy, but grew angry
when he learned Mama was pregnant to cure her severe illness. The
new baby was to be named Peter after my grandfaher.)

After Erich had left us in a huff, we heard nothing for months.
I wrote to him regularly, describing Peter’s progress and sweet
nature, and hoped the lack of mail from him was caused by sea duty,
not anger. Finally, in early July, a letter came. He explained in a
somewhat cryptic fashion, that he’d just been able to catch up
with his mail. While he was never allowed to state specific
information about assignments and missions, we were able to figure
out that he’d spent some time in Denmark. He covered quite a lot
in the letter, but didn’t acknowledge his new brother.

On July twentieth, the radio brought shocking news of an attempt
to kill the Führer. We were reassured that Hitler was only slightly
hurt, and he took to the air himself a short time later, promising
to punish the perpetrators and fight on against all enemies inside
and outside our country. This time, not many people found
inspiration in his words or voice. After a few days, the incident
amounted to no more than another hammer blow to numb the senses.
We all had problems closer to home to worry over.