Marget Clarke ne Schuller (OMA) 1926-2004
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| Margret with husband John (Nobby) Clarke |
http://margretschuller.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/margret-clarke-oma-her-story-from-world.html
http://margretschuller.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/oma-story-part-2.html
Before the British troops took over we had a lot of
Americans troops. For many of us it was the first time we met coloured people
and the children and some teenagers were a bit nervous of them, for instance
one day some Americans came in our house looking for Brandy. Later we realised
that my grandfathers name was Brandt and therefore there was a connection with
Brandy to a foreigner.
The black-marketing was very rife, everybody had to find
some ways to survive, for instance we had to queue for a coupon to get a loaf
of bread several hours and then the following day find a baker who had enough
flour to bake bread and patiently wait till the bread was baked and queued
again for a long time to get a loaf. I believe that was a ration of bread for
one week, my mother used to make a sandwich spread with yeast and stinging
nettles. It had quite a good taste I remember that we could get horse meat. My
mother would refuse to eat it and it took her a time to cook it, My father and
I had no qualms about eating it.
Nearly everybody went “Hamster” in English it meant to find
your necessities by exchanging goods for anything, mainly food. I swapped all
my toys and my wonderful books, which came very hard to me but other people
lost so much more than I did. My mother
was still working at the town hall and sometimes people let her have some
fruit, potatoes and corn, thinking my mother would give them extra clothing
coupons
My fathers father was not living with us anymore he had
contacted some friends in south Germany who had a smallholding and he moved to
them, at least he had enough to eat. Before he left us he informed us that
perhaps in his bombed out house there would be some potatoes and homemade
sauerkraut. My father and I walked to his house on the off chance we might be
lucky and lucky we were Not only did we find the potatoes but also some of his
rabbits who had miraculously
survived. The hutches where quashed on top of each
other and were buried under the rubble. We could not take them with us and we
gave them to some neighbours of my grandfathers a while nobody had much to exchange.
So my father managed to get some sugar beet. And very secretly made alcohol. We
then went on the farms in another counties and managed to get food in exchange
for the alcohol, we had to travel on very over crowded trains. On certain parts
came police control. Somehow we all had some signals when it would happen and
most people were prepared. Many times we would not be back in one day and would
be sleeping in a field. My father would not leave me for one moment. My mother
did not come with us my father would not allow it. He never objected to me
coming with him.
I did have an offer to get into a home to convalesce due to
my TB, but declined the offer as times were too uncertain and I wished to stay
with my parents instead I had the opportunity to work on a vegetable farm, I
slept at home and walked very early in the morning to work. The farmers son was
still a prisoner of war and his fiancée and I pulled the plough, the horses had
been killed I have never worked so hard in my life but enjoyed it. I got lots
of fresh air, milk, good food and I was allowed to take food, eggs and milk
home. Once I got sunstroke and lost consciousness since have been very wary about
Sunbathing. After a few months I was free of TB, I don’t know if there is a
lesson to be learnt about that
As the air raids got more frequent we all had a small
suitcase ready. The young people met at a certain floor of the house and in our
own way we still had some fun and outside bombs got dropped. I am now older and
realise how thoughtless we had been as we were singing dancing and laughing and
outside bombs were dropped, houses burned and people were injured or even
dying.
Sometime we had no time to get to the air raid shelter and
stayed in the cellar. Each family had a room in the cellar and in normal times
coal and potatoes were stored there. My mother used to make jam and bottle
vegetables and fruit. My father installed two beds in our part of the cellar.
In the later part of the war we slept in the cellar, in front of the window we
had bags of sand in order to protect us from splintered glass. One day I tried
to turn the mattress and a rat jumped on my shoulder. Both of us stared at each
other, I was to scared to scream. The rat tried to jump out of the window and
could not and by that time I got a broom and chased it in the washhouse.
Food got very short and we all tried somehow to survive. My
mother was called back to work in the council offices. She was responsible for
the ration cards. Through working there she made some friends with small
holders and sometimes we got some fruit and potatoes. It took us sometimes
hours to walk to the houses and carry heavy bags of potatoes but we were
grateful for the food. My mother did wonderful things with the cooking, making
meals from next to nothing. I remember her using yeast for sandwich spread. My
father got promoted at work and was responsible for the
right temperature of
all the electric and gas ovens. That used to he sometimes a problem, as through
the bombing it was not always possible to get gas and the electric. One night a
lot of bombing raids were announced and they were expected to in our area and a
whole load od carpet bombing was to be dropped on the factory and my home town
but fortunately for us it missed its target and ended in the field. My father
ran through the attack and managed to turn all the gas and the electricity off
and saved a lot of damage in the town. His hands were badly burned and he also
suffered for the rest of his life from the gas poison, which he swallowed. For
his effort he received a special order for bravery for civilians.
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| Margret's Parents on their wedding day |
Most of the young German men got enlisted and the women had
very often to do heavy work, and with more bombing day and night plus little
food, we got very tired. Suddenly we had prisoners of war in our town, my
grandfather had no German work force and two French prisoners had to work for
him. I remember them as two older men, perhaps in their late thirties, which to
me as a teenager was absolutely ancient.
However in the factory we had a lot of foreign workers. The factory
produced new steel, which was very fine and strong and was used mainly for aeroplanes.
All Germans working in the firm got extra rations it was not much. Each working
day we got a sandwich, the bread was yellow, made of maize, the margarine was
greasy and tasteless, the slice of sausage was better.
I had to go every day into the workshop to collect some
papers, on the way I dropped the sandwich in a corner and a young Russian
waited to pick it up. I never spoke to him and don't know what happened to him,
I was just sorry for him.
In my apprenticeship I had to give out wages and I met a
Dutchman who asked me for a date. I did accept and felt very nervous about it
and only went out with him once. We could not go anywhere, as it was not
popular for German girls to go out with foreigners. Dutchman were perhaps more
acceptable as they were Germanic. He did ask me again but I declined, later I
was told he was sent home to Holland as he had TB
Food rationing was getting stricter and a lot shorter,
people started to “Hamster” that meant exchange articles for food. My Father
and Grandfather made wonderful Doll House Furniture for several years to
exchange for food. I had some wonderful books all were exchanged for flour,
bacon potatoes.
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