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Post by gumby on Mar 29, 2011 19:43:00 GMT -5
I suppose that the bomber crews must have felt remorse at what they saw, especially when cities like Hamburg and Dresden burned with such intensity that the pilots could read navigation charts by the illumination from the inferno. I do remember a part from the movie Memphis Belle where one crewman tried to stop the bomber from dropping the bombs because they might hit a school. I think that it was a "fight or die" kind of situation for the airmen of the allied forces, they wanted to drop their bombs and get out of enemy air space, because the anti aircraft fire and attacks from air positions was intense. I think that many airmen carried emotional scars that stayed with them throughout their lives, as with everyone else involved in that conflict.
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Post by kapitanprien on Mar 30, 2011 7:48:53 GMT -5
I normally don't talk about the family I am with because it really isn't 'my' family, but there is a relative - a great uncle, who was a bombardier on a B 17 and he said that he didn't like dropping those bombs because he knew people would get killed. So yes, there was a sense of remorse.
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Post by gumby on Mar 30, 2011 18:27:02 GMT -5
Yes definitly.
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Post by gumby on Mar 30, 2011 20:24:33 GMT -5
BDM Camp
BDM camps were large and we went into the wilderness to learn survival skills. We were required to hike about 10 miles a day, often in rugged terrain. We had to carry a pack strapped to our backs, so we had to be in great physical condition to participate in the camping trips. These trips usually took place during the sweltering hot summer months, this combined with the rugged alpine terrain made for a strenuous two days of outdoor living.
I remember that our camp was in the Black Forest in Southern Germany. We pitched about a hundred tents in a clearing surrounded by tall evergreen trees. The ground here was somewhat sandy, barren in spots, and some smaller evergreen trees grew within the clearing. Our tents were crowded together all in long rows, there were at least four rows of round white tents, all with a center post and ropes that fanned out, staked to the sandy soil.
Yes when you put many girls out there in the wilderness you're bound to have some tempers flare, but for the most part our group leaders kept the peace and dished out good discipline when there were "issues".
There was division of labor in the camp that was recorded on a printed sheet. Every girl studied the sheet to learn what her jobs would be for the duration of camp. I was assigned to cook on one night, and to the dish washing detail the following night.
It was easy to cook. About 12 girls in a line peeling potatoes, and passing them down to other girls who cut them up and put them into the stew pot. It was fun and we all talked and told jokes. It did not even seem like work when we all pitched in. It became a game to see who could peel the most potatoes.
The second night was not as fun for me. I had dish washing detail. I had to go a long ways to a sports field and get water from a pipe, fill the pails, and walk back to camp. This had to be done over and over until we had enough water to wash the dishes. I think that carrying heavy water pails was more work than the 10 mile hike. Fortunately, a boy came to help me, I think that he was from a HJ camp ( Hitler-Jugend ) not far from our camp. He helped me carry the pails of water and seemed to talk incessantly.
The next day I woke up early and stared up at the tent wall. Some birds were making loud calls up in the trees outside and that probably woke me up. I rolled up my bedding and poked my head out of the tent. It was a beautiful morning with bright sunshine. There was dew covering everything. It was cool and I breathed in the fresh, floral scent of the forest. It was very early in the morning, because I seemed to be the only one stirring. Perhaps even the camp leaders needed a little more sleep. I was still in my night clothes as I pulled on my shoes and socks. I walked down a gravel lane towards the latrine. Once inside, I could hear other girls laughing along the lane. The camp was beginning to stir, a new day upon us.
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Post by gumby on Mar 30, 2011 23:13:16 GMT -5
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Post by Laurasia on Apr 3, 2011 15:55:21 GMT -5
Hi Gumby.
I just love how much detail you are able to recall of your experiences with the BDM. It's truly fascinating. Your BDM hikes sound alot like the HJ hikes for us boys. LOL! Physical strength, stamina & prowess was needed all around though. LOL!
Sincerely,
Laurasia
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Post by Miss Bothmann on Apr 3, 2011 19:46:46 GMT -5
Yes, those bombs were very terrifying. I remember that the thing that actually sent shivers down by back was hearing the shriek of the bomb as it descended towards land. Even now, if I watch war movies that are realistic enough and they get that sound right, I almost cower in fear. I also know what you mean about the extreme fear that us citizens felt in the cities. I recall praying hour after hour that friends and family living in Berlin were safe. I swear, Anna must have worn out God's ears with all the prayers. I know that the servicemen were simply following orders, but to us they were indeed the enemy. Thank you for continuing to post on your experiences in the BDM. The detail that you are able to recollect amazes me, and I am happy for you that you are able to remember the better times.  |
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Post by gumby on Apr 3, 2011 23:58:47 GMT -5
Yes you are right, Miss Bothmann, it was extreme terror living in the cities and being under the constant threat of attack. I read somewhere that soldiers preferred the war front over being a defenseless target in the city, waiting out the air raid in an underground shelter, often stuffy with poor ventilation, insufficient to keep toxic fumes from entering from above. Many people died from smoke asphyxiation from the fire storms that swept over the cities.
Yes I remember the terrible sounds of the bombs dropping, a whooshing sound like air escaping from a car tire rapidly. There is a car wash not far from my home, and I used to always feel panic as I drove past because of the sound. I did not realize until recently that this car wash and the pressurized spray sounded very much like many bombs rushing through the air. I do not panic anymore now that I realize what was causing my anxiety.
I don't know what was worse, the dreaded air raid sirens announcing another attack, the sound of the bombs dropping, the explosions and ground shaking, or the fires and smoke. All of these added up to a night of hell and terror. And then to be fortunate enough as I to make it out of the targeted area of the city to a more safe area, looking back to see the aftermath, the brilliant glow of a burning city, buildings left only half standing, this scene is burned within the memory, never to forget......never.
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Post by gumby on Apr 4, 2011 23:58:09 GMT -5
Hi Gumby. I just love how much detail you are able to recall of your experiences with the BDM. It's truly fascinating. Your BDM hikes sound alot like the HJ hikes for us boys. LOL! Physical strength, stamina & prowess was needed all around though. LOL! Sincerely, Laurasia Thankyou, Laurasia, much of what I remember is visual so it is easy for me to describe. I seem to remember more from the senses, so I see, feel, even smell the event from my previous life. I think that the boys had it much more difficult, especially as the country mobilized for war. Then the HJ became a place to train boys to become combat ready, and a place where the strongest were chosen to attend the Adolf Hitler schools to become leaders in the regimen. You had to have confidence and stamina to pass these trials in BDM and HJ, but for the boys there was so much more pressure to excel. |
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Post by Laurasia on Apr 5, 2011 10:52:29 GMT -5
Hi Gumby.
Oh yes there was a LOT of pressure to push past everyone else for us guys. (Though I, as Hans, only served in the actual HJ for one year in order to qualify for the SS. But I was raised, from the age of 10 - 12 years & on, in an HJ-like home for boys.) There was a LOT of physical & military training involved - even when we were younger.
You know my father (who is a Vietnam veteran) has an old reel-to-reel recording of an airraid from his old base (he & some of his buddies had been recording music onto the reel-to-reel when the airraid hit & so the whole thing was recorded) that Miss Bothmann never could bear to listen to. Now I understand why. I was always repulsed by it & fascinated by it, but I didn't have as much trouble listening to it as Miss Bothmann did.
Sincerely,
Laurasia
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Post by Miss Bothmann on Apr 5, 2011 13:26:03 GMT -5
Yeah, I never put two and two together even now..but I suppose that is why I couldn't bear to listen to that tape. *shivers* Of course, I didn't know about my past life as Anna back then, which is probably a good thing.
Wow, I must admit that I have never experienced that (which I am thankful for). I can go into and use those car washes without any trouble at all. However, what I hate are the tornado warning sirens that are strategically placed within neighborhoods so that you clearly hear the alarm. Where I used to live there was one literally around the block from me..talk about hell..that thing would blare at like three in the morning and scare the hell out of me. Luckily where I live now, I live rurally so I cannot hear it.
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Post by gumby on Apr 5, 2011 20:44:27 GMT -5
Oh I still have that irrational panic when I go into those carwashes and hear the hissing of the water, and then the big roller brushes hit the windsheid. It is worse when it is warm in the car, and stuffy air. It reminds me of the bomb shelter, that is why I get the panicky feelings. I don't think that I'll ever get over that!
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Post by gumby on Apr 5, 2011 22:24:51 GMT -5
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Post by Miss Bothmann on Apr 7, 2011 18:01:13 GMT -5
Interesting photo. Yeah, who knows..maybe it was Katie. |
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Post by gumby on Apr 11, 2011 22:37:57 GMT -5
Tides of WarThe first signs of war that made an impression on me happened on a trip with the BDM to the northern Alps in the late summer of 1940. We were down near the border between Germany and Switzerland/Austria. We walked down a steep trail into a deep gorge. High tan colored cliffs towered above us as we reached the bottom of the gorge. As I looked up towards the rim of the craggy cliffs, I saw a something that made my jaw drop. I shouted "look up there!". All of the BDM girls looked in the direction where I was pointing. There up in a tall, sturdy tree, at the very top, was an airplane! It was a yellow WWII style single engine fighter plane - stuck there in the upper branches of the tree! I marveled at this then and now - wondering how a plane got there. Did the pilot have engine trouble during training, and somehow manage to level off his plane before hitting the branches of the tree? The pilot probably survived, because the plane was completely intact! What had happened to the pilot? Was he rescued? How long had that plane been up there? It was a miracle that the plane did not blow up or fall apart when it hit the tree. Yet there it was, suspended in the branches, in one piece, in perfect condition! This was certainly not the normal place one would expect to see an airplane. It was a WW II plane, it looked something like this if my memory serves me correct:  This was the last time that we would go on a BDM field trip. There was no more financing available for these kind of activities from the state. All available resources were now being channeled into the war effort.
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