My Sister Friedl’s Wedding Day

It was March the 2nd 1945 and it was my beloved sister Friedl’s 20th Birthday and also her and Horst’s wedding day. It was to be at the Paulus Cathedral, the only church restored, partially, to be used for sermons and weddings after the total destruction of our beautiful city September 11th 1944. This church could only be used in good weather, since it was just outer walls, no ceiling, no windows and only cleaned of rubble partially, chairs lined up, where pews once were.
Today is this very special day. My father is home to see his daughter Friedl and his very good friend Horst joining in marriage. After the beautiful ceremony the couple walked out of the Cathedral under an arc of swords to their limo to begin a lifetime together, hopefully with this cruel war ending soon.
We all gathered at our parents’ beautiful home, decorated with white lilac, great catered dinner and mama made a traditional “Bowle” for drinks, consisting of sliced peaches soaked in Cognac over night. A large crystal bowl, filled with champagne, the peaches added. Served in open, flat glasses before dinner.
Our mama engaged a group of musicians who would provide the music after dinner for dancing. The musicians were set-up in the foyer, where the grand piano was and the dance floor spilling over, into the dining and living rooms. Every one seemed to have a great time and had, for a fleeting moment forgotten about the war, thinking of their future, hoping that peace would come very soon.
I, Ilona, Friedl’s younger sister, 17 years old, not getting married, not having a gentleman friend, just wishing to dance. I had tasted, sampled quite a few peaches, therefore I was very happy and had the courage to get up on the large, round onycs-topped table in the center of the foyer, and started to dance – I could tell that the group were playing a Tango – my favorite. Dressed in a Burgundy velvet dress, long sleeves with pearl buttons up to the elbow, fitted and long, low-cut back, very striking. I had changed into my dance shoes. My hair, in a French braid, down one side. Ready to dance. The dancing couples stopped, watched and applauded. As I was getting applaus from the guests, my mama entered and saw me. She came close to the table, looked up at me and with a smile said: “come down sweetheart it is time for you to go to bed.”
I realized I had over-done it just a bit, stepped down, gave my mama a kiss, went upstairs and to bed. The music and laughter lasted until I fell a sleep.
The music was interrupted by a courier, a young officer with urgent orders for Horst and his four companions to return to the Western front for one more offensive against the approaching allied forces at the border of Holland. A departure of four guests and the groom stopped the festivities. My beloved sister Friedl came into our room, crying. I tried to console her, but did not know what to say, so I held her close and let her cry.
My sister woke up as daylight was approaching and we both went downstairs. Our mama, Mrs. Kramer with her younger sister Marga and Mrs. Nietsche were sitting in the dining room with a cup of coffee, with tired faces and tears still staining their cheeks. The guests all had left and our father was waiting for his driver to take him to the train to get back to Berlin.
For how long we were wondering? We knew, that Germany could not hold off the advance of the allied forces much longer – but how long?
Would my dearest sister hear from Horst, her bridegroom soon?
Such a sad and tragic ending to a most beautiful wedding.
As it turned out, the ugly and cruel war was over in May, but NO news from Horst. A visit of two officers at our home gave Friedl the grim and devastating news. None of the officers made it to their unit, that meant, they were caught by artillery approaching the front and none of them made it. My beloved sister, a beautiful bride and on the same day became a widow.


















