04-08-2022, 12:59 AM
Mine is a refugee/immigrant story in reverse:
My dad was born in Austria in 1911, went to school at Ohio State in the USA, became a US citizen, and served in the US Army during WWII.
My mom was born in Germany in 1923, but grew up in San Antonio TX, and returned to Berlin with her family in 1935 (bad timing). She was attending university when she met her Austrian husband, who was conscripted by the German army, and stationed in Berlin.
My oldest brother was born in 1944, and "stashed" in a mountainous area of Austria with his grandmother, away from the war. His father was killed in battle in France, and my mom got stranded in Berlin, bombed every night by the Americans. My dad's brother, also drafted into the German Army, was also killed in France. My dad's Army unit passed within 30-50 miles of where his brother, and my oldest brother's father were killed (different dates/different battles).
Since my parents spoke German and English, they were valued interpreters toward the end of the war. My mom met my dad and became a "war bride". Since my dad was a dual national, Austria-US, he was able to retrieve my brother from Austria in 1946.
Once they settled in the US, my sister, and six more boys were born, including yours truly.
Although my dad was a US Army combat veteran, kids in my early days at school thought that my family were Nazis (my parents had unmistakable German accents). My folks thought it was in our best interest that we never learn German.
War ruins lives in all directions, yet people do find a way to survive. My parents very rarely spoke of that war, yet my mom was adamant that we never glorify war. She'd only say, "you don't know what war really is, and you don't want to find out." Though we were raised Catholic, she always prepared a menorah during Hanukkah, in memory of the Jewish friends she lost in that war.
There is a whole lot more to the story, but that's the gist of it.
My dad was born in Austria in 1911, went to school at Ohio State in the USA, became a US citizen, and served in the US Army during WWII.
My mom was born in Germany in 1923, but grew up in San Antonio TX, and returned to Berlin with her family in 1935 (bad timing). She was attending university when she met her Austrian husband, who was conscripted by the German army, and stationed in Berlin.
My oldest brother was born in 1944, and "stashed" in a mountainous area of Austria with his grandmother, away from the war. His father was killed in battle in France, and my mom got stranded in Berlin, bombed every night by the Americans. My dad's brother, also drafted into the German Army, was also killed in France. My dad's Army unit passed within 30-50 miles of where his brother, and my oldest brother's father were killed (different dates/different battles).
Since my parents spoke German and English, they were valued interpreters toward the end of the war. My mom met my dad and became a "war bride". Since my dad was a dual national, Austria-US, he was able to retrieve my brother from Austria in 1946.
Once they settled in the US, my sister, and six more boys were born, including yours truly.
Although my dad was a US Army combat veteran, kids in my early days at school thought that my family were Nazis (my parents had unmistakable German accents). My folks thought it was in our best interest that we never learn German.
War ruins lives in all directions, yet people do find a way to survive. My parents very rarely spoke of that war, yet my mom was adamant that we never glorify war. She'd only say, "you don't know what war really is, and you don't want to find out." Though we were raised Catholic, she always prepared a menorah during Hanukkah, in memory of the Jewish friends she lost in that war.
There is a whole lot more to the story, but that's the gist of it.