Januar 1943
And then this holiday was also over.[1] Ruth had taken me to Anhalter Bahnhof railway terminus, and now the train[2] rolls through the familiar districts of the beloved home town towards the West.
In Reims, a lieutenant of our battalion boards the train. In Brest he goes to the station commandant’s office to inform the battalion in Le Conquet of our arrival and perhaps get a car to pick us up. In the meantime, I wait on the parapet of the high steep bank of the harbour bay, which stretches out deep below me into the far distance. As I do so, I watch a submarine that is doing a trim run and diving exercises in the bay.
After a while, the lieutenant comes back, holds out his hand to me and says, “Congratulations, Herr Leutnant!” He had heard on the phone from the adjutant, Lieutenant Gawletta, that I had been promoted to lieutenant with effect from 1 Nov 42. Of course, this had to be celebrated immediately, and since we still had plenty of time before the departure of the bus - the battalion could not pick us up - we went to the “House of the Sea Commander”[3]. This is an establishment that had a dining restaurant on the ground floor and casino rooms for naval officers on the first floor. In the meantime, a sergeant from our battalion had arrived and I took him with me. So I take them both out to dinner and treat myself to a foie gras to celebrate. The price is considerable, but I couldn’t really get any taste out of this delicacy.
In Le Conquet, Lieutenant Gawletta greets me very warmly. He had originally intended to telegraph me the news of my promotion and three days’ clothing leave, but the telegram would not have reached me in Berlin. Instead, he had thought of something else: he wanted to arrange for me to go to Paris for three days’ clothing leave and then come with me straight away.
The next day, I take my tunic and coat to the tailor’s shop to have my rank insignia sewn on. In the meantime, I write a letter to my parents informing them of my promotion and at the same time asking for my peaked cap and my dad’s 6.5 mm pistol. I had already had the peaked cap fitted with a silver cord during my last leave in view of the expected promotion, and Dad’s pistol was exactly in accordance with the orders of the Commander in France[4], which required officers to carry a weapon without attracting attention. In the evening, I once again invited all the officers of the battalion who were present to a modest party in our mess. This “mess” was the home of the widow of a wealthy citizen of the town. The lady was already very old, but unmistakably of good family. The house she owned was opposite the school. Here we sat together comfortably with a few bottles of wine. It was a modest party, but at the end we no longer sat on the chairs, but on the cupboards and let our legs dangle down. We weren’t even buzzed, though, just buoyant. And we didn’t break anything.
The division is allowed to send 30 men to Paris for sightseeing, and the kind adjutant has earmarked me as the leader of this group. The troop leadership is certainly doing something to offer the men some variety and an insight into French culture. But since the food situation in Paris is very difficult, no one is allowed in without special permission, except for the Wehrmacht units located in the city. Visits to the city are therefore only allowed in small groups at a time. The office where we have to report is near the Place de la Concorde. There we are assigned an Alsatian who is to guide us through the city. Since I already know Paris, I only take part in a group tour once, to climb the Arc de Triomphe. On the other days, I walk around the city on my own, visiting all the sites I had come across as a student ten years ago. Back then I was a more peaceful guest, though not a welcome one by everyone. I was met already then with mistrust of Hitler, who had just come to power at that time, and French chauvinism. Today, as an officer of the occupying forces, I stand in the same places.
The group is housed in a large room in a Wehrmacht quarter. I myself am staying in a small hotel near the Place de l'Opéra.
Today is Sunday. I go to the service at La Madeleine, just like ten years ago. After the service, I see a pretty, well-groomed girl leaving the church. I go after her and address her. It turns out that she is German, working for a German authority. At first I am a bit disappointed, because I wanted to speak French. But now it had happened, and so we walked around the Champs-Élysées for a while until we each had to go home for dinner.
On the last evening, our group goes to the Folies Bergère. I go along to this cabaret. It’s true that I didn’t understand much of the rapid pace of the conférencier’s speech and the fireworks of sparkling jokes. The frame story was also very poor, but there was a lot of flesh on display.
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- ↑ It is still unclear whether the author started the return journey on 2 or 3 January; that depends on how the last day of the holiday, 4 January, is to be understood, namely whether he had to be back on the 5th in the morning or only during the day (or perhaps even had to start the return journey only on the 4th).
- ↑ SF 324 from Berlin Anhalter Bahnhof 17:35, to Metz 8:28, SF 924 from Metz 11:39, from Reims 18:28, to Brest 10:17
- ↑ presumably the officers’ club of the Sea Commander Bretagne
- ↑ OB West (H.Gr.Kdo D)