My Dream to Be Free Page 2
For the first time this night I was afraid. Not that I couldn't swim, this was another kind of fear, since I could swim well. The children in front of my eyes scared me! I knew that I would not be able to block out or erase these images from my mind for a lifetime. I had the worst conscience, which anyone in this world could ever have! But I knew that I could not help. During the whole night I had helped some adults or the other to climb into the boats, and had put on their life jackets. All these people there would have been in the position to do this on their own.
But these children - had noone seen them? Did no one miss his children? Were the parents dead perhaps? Why? Why these children? I had no answers to these questions.
Later I appeased my conscience that I never heard that two children were missing or had been killed in the accident, after the wreck. But I still have these nightmares to this day.
I touched an object. It took a while until I realized that it was a man. I also noted that it was a dead man. But he could save my life, because this man was wearing a life jacket. A dead man does not need a life jacket, so I removed it from him and wore it. My dead life-saver said goodbye quickly without his life jacket. Now I had to see to it that I got to a lifeboat, because I could not remain in the water forever.
But as hard as I tried, I saw nothing except the burning "Lakonia" or what remained of the proud white ocean-liner. There had to be some help from somewhere: A lifeboat should see me, someone had to hear me calling. Other vessels are also in the immediate vicinity and are looking for survivors.
It was not bright, neither was it dark any more, yet my sight was not good enough to recognize anything. I couldn't survive very long in this cold water, I would become extremely cold quickly.
The cool guy from tonight, who I was even a couple of hours back, didn't exist any more. But now that I had a completely normal fear, fear that no one could see or find me.
I had seen something, an object, which could not identify – at least not yet.
My senses were deceiving me and I saw things, where none were there. I had to pull myself together, and just not break down. Swimming was futile because where should I go if I didn't know where I was? Simply remain above water! Back to the "Lakonia" would also not be the solution because it could disappear in the sea with a bang and take me with it.
Suddenly I was reminded of this stupid joke: Two friends go swimming in a lake and bet on one hundred German Mark, as to who would reach the opposite shore. The winner would have won the money. Just halfway through the lake, one friend says to the other, that he is not able to swim any further, and that he would swim back. Vaguely I had this thought: should I turn back? Only I didn't know where the half of the way was for me. Think positively, everything would be OK! Simply believe that everything will work out well.
The object from earlier was next to me, but I didn't realize what it was. It was larger than I, no fish and not a shark either. I had not thought of sharks till then, and now I started thinking that there could be some there. I had to think of the dead man, whose life jacket I was wearing now. Would it bring me more luck than for him? Until now I had luck, if you could call my experiences as such. I continued to thrash about, so that I maintained my blood circulation. What was that? I sensed something and now I saw it too. Was it a barrel? A kind of cask? Now there was something above me. They were wooden boards. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a kind of a raft.
Where did this thing come suddenly, of all things to me? Something like that happened in bad movies, there were suddenly things there, which shouldn't be there at all. But how could I climb on to this strange piece? I felt iron pipes, water pipes, to which wooden boards were attached. I loosened my belt, put the buckle around one of the pipes and made a loop, so that a stirrup was formed. Now I could gain a hold with a foot and swing on to this peculiar object. It was indeed a raft.
It was the working-raft of our ship. The sailors used it when smaller repairs on the outside and painting work were necessary on the ship. For example, if the harbor tug boats had to pin the ship to the harbor pier, there were these unattractive, black tire marks of the old tires, which were fixed to the bug of the raft. These were then painted over with the white color of this raft.
It was a simple construction: four empty oil drums, connected with water pipes, with wooden boards attached on top of it and a small railing again made of water pipes. That was all that was. But for me, it was first of all my rescue - the second one today. First it was the life jacket of the dead man and now this piece of island. My island was very high above the water, so I could see the surroundings a little better.
In addition to the burning "Lakonia" I saw other ships in the distance. I could detect a passenger ship, a tanker and even a battleship. But I could not see them in detail. The disadvantage of having a place above sea level was that I drifted off course too fast by the wind. In spite of everything I was happy with myself and my situation.
The Lakonia" had already been burning for a few hours now and I heard small explosions every now and then. The day had dawned and I realized that I had drifted away even more. Around midday, I still had not found anyone yet and my courage turned into a slight depression.
Again and again I had to bear in mind that I was alive and had not succumbed to a watery death like so many.
The weather was unremarkable, but not really cold for this time of the year. Sun, clouds and a slight breeze were pleasant for my bare skin. I had taken off my wet clothes and dried them now on the upper pipe rod of my rescue equipment. I hoped that the raft was stable till someone found me. I was very sure that this would happen before the sunset.
As the saying goes: Hope is the last thing we lose. You just have to believe in it! The clothes dried quickly and I could put them on again. I was not afraid that someone would see me naked - there was absolutely no one there who could see me - although there was nothing more than that, which I wished for. It became colder, and so I was happy to have dry clothes on my body once again. Since I didn't have any shoes any more, I threw my useless socks overboard. I had given my my windbreaker on board to a passenger. At least I still had my jeans and my T-shirt.
It must have been shortly before it became dark, I must have fallen asleep and had the feeling that I had lost time, when the noise of aircraft engines woke me. But I could see none.
Many thoughts went through my head, and the sensation of fear became a state of mind. I became more and more hungry and thirsty; I must have slept for a few hours which did me good.
A silly saying crossed my mind once again: Thirst is worse than homesickness. I was not homesick but had the desire to be seen and a tremendous amount of thirst. There had been so much of food on the "Lakonia" which would probably sink with her to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. If only I had pocketed something like the people in the kitchen, before they ran to the boats.
The most of them would be on a ship by now and the people who had saved them would have served them a delicious meal and drinks. They probably drank Grog or whisky, tea with rum or hot chocolate and certainly a strong coffee. I would have given anything to have a glass of water and a dry bread roll. Even if it had ended up as usual in the rubbish chute from the previous day - a delicacy for me in this situation.
I was digressing once again: The barman and the company boss in my local bar in Tenerife, where the first sous-chef and I had launched a small business, would be waiting for us in vain. On each trip there were these famous Welcome and Farewell-Parties. In these special dinners, caviar was obligatory. A 2Kg tin of the finest Beluga caviars were cleared by the stock man for each party. A volcanic mountain carved from ice, which was to represent the Teide on Teneriffa, was always part of the buffet and these 2 Kg caviar then arrived in craters No one complained - but no one knew that there was only one kilo of these fine grains in the crater. A kilo two times makes two and I smuggled these two kilos to the land. It
would have never occurred to the Chef or the stock-man that the staff
stole like this. On land, there was hard cash - dollars or Pesetas in our bar for this caviar.
There were Senhoritas and plenty of Cuba Libre for the the Pesetas. I had to do without Rum-Cola and the Senhoritas first of all. At that moment I was only hungry and thirsty.
It was two trips ago that I always had the task of smuggling the said 2kg - container to the land, which I was able to do. But we were unaware that our bar had holidays and was closed. Returning the caviar was pointless, and the risk of being found out was too great. So, we tried to put up our product at the place of the competitors, which was without success. So consuming it was the only choice. Anyone who has ever been so stupid and had eaten caviar in soup bowls and with soup spoons, will know what I am talking about. And you will also know what kind of stomach pain I had to struggle with. There was a fire in my belly, which could not be put out even with many, very many Cuba Libre. Although we had invited some ladies to our caviar party, we could not completely destroy our act of shame. We gave the rest of the "Fish-egg-Dinners" to those who were still present in the pub and went on board. I thought that the tiny sturgeon eggs had developed into duck eggs; that is how it felt in my stomach. Even the ten liters of water that I drank in the night could not extinguish the fire. I needed time till noon to get some relief from the caviar. I vowed to myself that I would never again even eat a gram of this stuff.
Not all thoughts are nice if you're hungry, thirsty and tired, and are scared as hell. I hammered the thought into me again and again that I was alive. But more and more black holes came into my mind.
The reality brought me out of my half-awake dreams. In one half of my imagination I saw a ship coming towards me. But the other half failed and tricked me into believing that I was in heaven. However, I was not wanted there and was thrown out from there.
I fell from the sky into a huge funnel, which then swirled me about in circles constantly and with a gurgling noisy maelstrom threw me into a bubbling sea. It was my mother, who took me out of this cauldron and gave me life.
A film was passed me, which started precisely at my birth. I found it strange that I could see my arrival into this world like this, how it really was...
Expulsion from the homeland
We know that everything starts with the birth. It was also the case with me. My birth certificate says that I was born on the 30.10. I do not know on what occasion my mother told this little story: I was in fact born on the 31.10. at 12.12 AM - in other words, shortly after midnight. However, the midwife had got the papers issued on 30.10. twelve minutes before midnight. Her reasoning was quite simple: In my life later, I would definitely want to celebrate my birthday with friends. The 31st. is however a memorial day without musical events (it was so at that time) and consequently any partying would also be prohibited. However, so that I could celebrate my birthdays on the 30th, and sleep late the next day, the little cheating was of course only to my advantage. My mother had nothing against it and no one asked me about it. But I am sure I would have agreed. It would still remain to be seen whether it was a good omen for me.
I hope that my arrival into this world was a joyful event for my mother. It was certainly a hard time for her because my father was a soldier and fought in the war still in the faith in the great victory against Russia and the rest of the world. With me and my brother who was five years older to me, there were three hungry mouths to feed. Wherever a war takes place, it does not bring about a pleasant life for anyone. For a single person with two children, it is a fight for daily survival. In today's fast-paced world you forget that very quickly. As for the older people, hardly any of us have forgotten the "life during war". Today people just wonder how many wars are still taking place in our planet.
The Second World War ended, and with that also the permission for my family to remain in our home country, the Sudeten Mountains (Riesengebirge) also ended. The Czechs gave Mother six hours’ time to pack, and she also was allowed to take a generous 30 kg of her possessions, if she could take any baggage at all with a four-year-old and a nine-year-old. It was a lost war and I had to say goodbye to the Rübezahl and the Schneekoppe, without ever having seen them both.
A train with animal wagons was already ready, this time however not for animals but for us. I guess that we were also not worth any more than that for the Czechs at that time. As a four-year-old, I could not yet understand what happened, but I still have memories of some of the things.
For example, I remember the train journey and also the house, in which we had lived earlier. I had to walk over a bridge from the house, which led over a stream, the "Aupa", to go to a bakery. Since the Germans could only with stamps, they sent me, because I got my sweet yeast rolls (Buchteln) from the Czech baker even without the stamps. Who can refuse anything to a small, blond boy or throw him out of the shop? Particularly as they know that he is hungry. Even a Czech citizen cannot do that.
The train took us to Hesse, to a "refugee camp", in which a registration was done. After that we were brought to a small village and accommodated as subtenants to very nice farmers, whether they wanted that or not.
I grew up here to a strong young boy in my mother's care, the protective hand of my brother with the help of the farmer and the farmer's wife. The farmer's wife, in her typical Hessian costume, with the colorful embroidered headscarf, which she always wore, the black skirt, the blouse and the woolen stockings, made me really scared. She appeared like how I imagined a witch.
On the other hand, the farmer with his back bent due to his work, was still very agile and reminded me of a giant, when he stood before me and looked down at me. But they were very nice people and I got almost everything I wanted, if they had it.
If the sow was slaughtered in autumn - or sometimes there were two - it was always a feast for me. Then there was a small blood sausage and a liver sausage, extra for me. I could eat this all by myself. Of course I gave my brother also something from it. The farmer told me that this was because I always picked up the small potatoes after the harvesters were done. I was allowed to always keep the small potatoes collected and gave them to my mother. It didn’t matter, there were my sausages! The parts of the pig were scalded and cooked in the big cauldron, in which otherwise our bath water was prepared on Saturdays. The same was also done with the sausages.
All of this were made into a wonderful sausage soup, which Mother received and which was enough for us boys then for the whole week. The more the sausages burst, the better was the soup. After the sad expulsion from our Homeland I felt very comfortable with the farmers and forgot the journey very quickly.
It was just heaven on earth here, especially on the day on which the farmer's wife baked bread - there was always an extra-small fresh bread for me.
In the evening there was always such a nice fragrance of fried potatoes, bacon and fried eggs at the farmer's home. Which young boy who is always hungry can resist it? Just by chance I went straight over to the door, which was always open, - of course only so quickly that I could be sure that I could be seen by the farmer's wife. She then asked me always whether I was hungry - of course I was! So I got my fried potatoes with bacon and egg in the evenings.
Then there was the time when I was at school. Nothing exciting happened in my school years, I just stayed afloat in the middle. Since we were in a small village, they had put the first four classes together and despite that, we were only 18 girls and 6 boys. When I was questioned what I wanted to be, my reply was always loud and clear: Ship's cook.
I promised almost all the girls that I would take them to Hawaii and of course everywhere where the ship would also travel.
Very quickly I was the darling of all girls, because they all wanted to travel to Hawaii! In exchange I almost never had to do my homework because my girlfriends did that for me. This went fine, till one day my teacher discovered it and as a result I had to bend over a chair and get a beating with a stick on my backside.
But since I always wore leather shorts for ecological reasons and mother s
aid they never got damaged, I didn't feel any pain. I only heard the laughter of the class. Sometimes the teacher pulled one's hair at the temples, and that was hellishly painful. Now and then there were also beatings with a stick on our fingers.
Once I jammed by finger in the hinged door to the boys' toilet.
These toilets were designed in such a way that you had to pee on the wall and the urine then disappeared in a drainage channel. There were these swing doors, so that you could not directly see in the direction of the urinal. I jammed my finger in these very swing doors.
At home I then claimed that this came from the teacher's cane. After my mother notified of this at the school, there were no punishments for my hands anymore for anyone.
One day, each student got a small packet with the inscription "Gift". Did someone want to kill us? None of us even made a sign of opening the packet because we knew what poison was. Somehow I had the feeling 'on the back burner' that some monster wanted to kill me. I heard so-to-say, the sounds of sirens and alarm bells. But our teacher explained to us that the word 'Gift' was in English and was translated as "present" in German. This was my first English word. I was really proud of it and bragged to my brother that I could speak English. There were wonderful goodies in my sachet like chocolates, candies, biscuits, milk powder, cocoa, and two oranges.
Since I did not know what they were till then, I wanted to eat them with the skin, like an apple. The teacher explained to me that I had to peel the skin. The packet for me came from Holland, from a lady, whom I wrote a thank-you letter. But I never heard from the said lady. I had probably waited too long with my thanks.
My mother gave me bread with jam for the school break. The framer's children had their bread with butter and ham or with homemade sausages.