Chapter Five

     That September of 1938, British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain met Hitler in his mountain retreat and signed a useless piece of paper, promising peace in our time. A least it might give us a year to build up our woefully inadequate forces and armaments

     I was home again and looking for a job. Before very long I was back working in central London as a secretary for a Paper Agent. Amongst their suppliers was a factory in Merken-bei-Duren in the Ruhr. Like the rest of the country, I had been lulled into a sense of false security by the hope of peace. I decided to holiday in Germany early in August 1939 and managed to get an invitation to visit the paper factory in the Ruhr before spending time in Bonn at the house of a Professor who had taught my last German teacher. It would give me an opportunity to practise my German as I still hoped I might get back in the travel business.

     I set off on that sunny morning, feeling excited at visiting a new country. All seemed calm on the journey, except at the border the guards unceremoniously confiscated a copy of Picture Post I was carrying. I managed to understand their barked instructions. They said it was forbidden material. It seem innocuous enough to me. I did notice there seemed to be a lot of military uniforms on the streets.

     The journey to the Ruhr was in a large Mercedes Benz, provided by the company. We travelled at great speed through the new autobahns which had been built by Hitler using the young men doing their Arbeitsdienst for the purpose. I had learned earlier from my German pen-friend, Werner Eisner every young male had to do a six months work service. During this time, they were employed to build roads and plant trees on the sides of the roads The purpose of this I  discovered later was to hide the movement of troops.

     The end of the First World War, Germany had suffered from terrible inflation. Unemployment was rife. There were fears of Communists taking over control of the country. Hitler had seemed then a saviour to the German people. Building roads employed those young people.

The paper factory specialised in manufacturing unusual papers including luxury wrappings for chocolates and other fancy items. Everywhere was spotlessly clean and highly regimented but I could not detect a single smiling face amongst the workers who seemed under great pressure.

     Returning to Bonn, I began my stay with the Professor. He had a large roomy house and it was full of other students from several different countries. We had a lot of fun together despite the variety of languages spoken. When shopping in this attractive old town. I noticed that every shop window carried a photo of Hitler and every German entering, gave a salute before buying anything. I would hear them say ‘Heil Hitler and a kilo of carrots bitte! Even when they greeted their friends and anyone else they me, they always gave the Hitler salute.

     At first we thought it hilarious but I changed my mind later that evening. A group of us went to the Stadtgarten and were dancing to a typical German oompah band. A Welsh boy and I started to dance the Lambeth Walk when they played the tune. It was then a popular and innocent dance from the musical “Me and my Girl” a current production performing in London. We had barely completed one circuit of the dance floor when two uniformed and armed storm troopers grabbed us and roughly pushed us off the floor. “Swing ist verboten” they shouted – ‘Swing is forbidden’. It was only then I realised how dangerous the Nazi regime might be and had fears for the future.

     Returning home on August 15th, the news became worse. First Austria then Czechoslavia, the Sudeten land, country after country was being over-run by German troops. Hitler was demanding Lebensraum – living space. All the countries bordering Germany felt threatened. Finally, in late August, 1939, Britain warned Hitler that a state of war would exist if Poland was invaded.

After Munich

Bridging the Centuries 

By Eileen Younghusband