30. Januar 2011
And the Nazis
For many years my parents have shared with my grandmother for an apartment or a house. After school, our first children's road led into the kitchen of my grandmother. Could cook! Conjured even more culinary delights from the remains.
My father, however, had as a child of a different opinion about the cooking of his mother. He even grumbled in all milk soup, because the never tasted like "in the school hostel. Until my grandmother fell among the soup. My father spooned thrilled to finally taste the soup as "in the camp school" ...
When Adolf Hitler seized power, my father was eight years old - and according to his mother from now on so ill that he was wholly inappropriate for the Hitler Youth. My grandmother did not approve of the Nazis. They also concealed their head of division in the Wilhelmshaven dockyard. When the
said after the seizure of power "Marie, as of today it is no longer good morning, but Heil Hitler," she said. "Den you can completely heal itself" The department head expressed both eyes blackened not my grandmother.
If they had an opinion, then my grandmother had an opinion. As on her last day of school. As they took their testimony unfairly, they tore it and threw the scraps to the school principal's feet.
Then Hitler was gone, the world had been reduced to ashes, Nazis verbuddelten alles, was an ihre braune Vergangenheit erinnerte, im Garten. Doch dann kam die Erinnerung wieder. Als ein Vorgesetzter meinen Vater um einen Gartenzwerg für seinen Garten bat, machte er sich an die heimliche Arbeit, wickelte den Zwerg ein und stellte ihn vor die Bürotür seines Vorgesetzten.
Der kam am nächsten Tag entrüstet in die Werkstatt meines Vaters. "Das kannst du doch nicht machen", sagte er. Was aber hatte mein Vater getan? Er hatte für diesen dermaleinst glühenden Faschisten einen Gartenzwerg hergestellt, der die Hitler-Frisur und den Hitler-Bart hatte, auf der Harke stand "Der Führer bei der Gartenarbeit".
