home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1990s
/
Time_Almanac_1990s_SoftKey_1994.iso
/
time
/
082889
/
08288900.017
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1994-03-25
|
8KB
|
179 lines
<text id=89TT2223>
<title>
Aug. 28, 1989: Remembrance
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1989
Aug. 28, 1989 World War II:50th Anniversary
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
WORLD WAR II, Page 46
REMEMBRANCE
</hdr><body>
<p>Watching the Newsreels
</p>
<p>By Leni Riefenstahl
</p>
<p> Riefenstahl, 87, who served the Nazi cause by filming such
propaganda masterpieces as Triumph of the Will, attended one of
Hitler's regular movie nights at his Berchtesgaden retreat in
late August 1939.
</p>
<p> Before the main feature, as usual, the weekly newsreel was
shown. The camera showed Moscow. A troop parade on Red Square.
Stalin appeared in close-up. I watched Hitler intently looking
at Stalin's face. Hitler interrupted, asking the projectionist
to repeat the sequence two or three times. Visibly excited, he
commented, "I rather like the way this man looks. I believe one
could come to terms with him." Then he rose and retired to his
room.
</p>
<p>"Little Boxes of Ashes"
</p>
<p>By Simone Veil
</p>
<p> President of the European Parliament from 1979 to 1982,
Veil, now 62, was shipped to Auschwitz in 1944, where most of
her family perished.
</p>
<p> I was scared all the time. I was always aware that, after
all, we could lose this war. As Jews, we felt more threatened.
With the Anschluss, girls at our school who were refugees told
of humiliation, of Jews being forced to scrub the sidewalks
with toothbrushes in Vienna. When some told of receiving little
boxes of ashes from Dachau, we had great difficulty believing
that people were actually being killed. Nobody imagined that
there could be a plan for extermination.
</p>
<p>"I Thought the Heavens Had Fallen"
</p>
<p>By Wojciech Jaruzelski
</p>
<p> Poland's President, now 66, fled with his family to
Lithuania and then Siberia three weeks after the Nazi invasion.
</p>
<p> I still remember that sunny September day, the whizzing
sound of German planes strafing defenseless refugees, exploding
bombs, the stench of burning and dead horses at the roadside.
I thought the heavens had fallen in on me. Relations between
Lithuania and Poland were not very good, and we were held up at
the border, adding to our sense of alarm and fear. We were
convinced that we would return home soon, that a British-French
offensive would enable the Polish army to go on fighting against
the overwhelming forces of the enemy. Not for a moment did I
think I would not return to Poland for more than four years.
</p>
<p>"Waiting for Death"
</p>
<p>By Ryszard Kapuscinski
</p>
<p> The Polish journalist and author (The Emperor and Shah of
Shahs) was seven when he and his family fled the Nazis.
</p>
<p> I remember walking with my sister next to a horse-drawn
cart. High up on the hay my grandfather was lying on a linen
sheet. He was paralyzed. When the air raid started, the whole
patiently marching crowd was suddenly filled with panic. People
sought safety in ditches, in bushes, in the potato fields. On
the now empty road there was only the cart on which my
grandfather was lying. He could see the planes coming at him,
how suddenly they dived down. When the planes disappeared, we
returned to the cart and my mother wiped the sweat off
Grandfather's face. After each raid sweat rolled down
Grandfather's tired, emaciated face.
</p>
<p> We encountered the corpses of horses everywhere. Poor
horses, big defenseless animals that don't know how to hide.
They stand motionless, waiting for death. It was always the
corpses of horses -- black, bay, pied, chestnut -- lying upside
down with the legs pointing into the air, their hooves
admonishing the world. It was as if it were a war not between
people but between horses, as if they were the only victims of
the strife.
</p>
<p>"We Could Do Nothing"
</p>
<p>By Rafael Loc
</p>
<p> Now 79, Loc (pronounced lotz) was a Polish lieutenant when
the invasion began.
</p>
<p> The stillness was shattered by the howling and screeching
and booming of German bombers and artillery. The Messerschmitts
came at us in waves. We could do nothing. We had no antiaircraft
guns. We had nothing to return fire at their long-range
artillery. Two hours after it began we were panic stricken, and
our entire battalion jumped out of the trenches and ran toward
our regimental headquarters.
</p>
<p> Only half the battalion made it. We continued running and
walking, but wherever we turned we met German artillery and
tank fire. They were in back of us and in front of us. To the
right was automatic fire; to the left we were shot at by
artillery. One shell hit a mine 300 yards from us and set off
a long line of Polish-laid mines; they exploded in domino
fashion. We ran, we lay on the ground, we ran. We didn't know
which way to go.
</p>
<p> Captured after four days, Loc later became Poland's first
Consul-General in Israel. Back in Warsaw, he was fired from the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs during a wave of anti-Semitism in
1953 and immigrated to Israel in 1956.
</p>
<p>"There Was No Enthusiasm for War"
</p>
<p>By Richard Von Weizsacker
</p>
<p> Now President of West Germany, he was a 19-year-old private
with the Ninth Infantry Regiment in Potsdam when war came. In
1949, Von Weizsacker's father was convicted of war crimes at
Nuremberg and sentenced to seven years in jail; his sentence was
commuted in 1951.
</p>
<p> We knew nothing of the secret protocol between Hitler and
Stalin that contained provisions for the attack on Poland.
German newspapers were full of reports of Polish violence and
provocations against the German minority. Who knew whether the
reports were correct? Most were believed.
</p>
<p> Despite the influence of Hitler's propaganda on German
public opinion, there was no enthusiasm for war. Thus the
mobilization of the Wehrmacht was conducted as quietly as
possible. About Aug. 25, after being hospitalized with
appendicitis, I received orders to rejoin my unit at Potsdam
immediately. I was told not to talk about it.
</p>
<p> That very same day, I later discovered, my father -- a
state secretary in the Foreign Ministry -- had taken part in a
last-ditch attempt to dissuade Hitler from issuing the invasion
order. In his notes my father remarked, "This afternoon is the
most depressing of my life. Apart from the unforeseeable
consequences for the existence of Germany and of my family, it
is appalling that my name should be connected with this event."
</p>
<p> Two or three days before Sept. 1, our battalion departed --
but not, as in August 1914, with brass bands and in broad
daylight. We set off in pitch darkness, taking side streets to
the freightyards. Early on the morning of Sept. 1, we crossed
into Poland. We soon saw action. Just a few hundred yards from
me, my older brother Heinrich fell. We barely had time to bury
him and the other dead before we had to hurry on. The suffering
had begun.
</p>
<p> We were no better and no worse than our fathers, who 25
years earlier had been drawn into the First World War. And we
were no better or worse than our children, who today pass
judgment upon us. We, like the soldiers of other countries, were
trained to obedience. We had not been brought up free to
demonstrate our opposition under the protection of a liberal
constitution. We had the same sensitivities that all humans
have, but during a time of difficult decisions, we lacked
political vision.
</p>
</body></article>
</text>