After watching the 70th anniversary of the D-Day Invasion on TV I was reminded of an amazing story that I was told many years ago in a college history class. My History professor’s name was Douglas Stephens; and he was hands down the most America person I had ever met. He always reflected the style of a cowboy: Quiet and calm, but would never hesitate to take action when it was needed. He played football through out high school and college, owned a horse ranch and he taught history at the same high school and college he attended. He was also very religious and very politically active… he also happened to be the best story teller I have ever heard. Now, given all of his many potential titles, we will just call him Doug. For my relationship with Doug, I clung to his every word.
Doug served a Mormon mission in Berlin, Germany in 1978. There he met a man who was not interested in joining the Mormon Church, but all the same absolutely loved Doug and his companion because they were American.
One-day, Doug asked the man why he loved Americans so much. To which the man said “They are the most loving, compassionate, forgiving people on Earth!” Doug was confused by this and asked him to explain. The man told them that the next time they came to visit him, he would tell them an amazing story that they would never forget. Both Doug and his companion were very curious to find out what made this man feel this way toward their countrymen and they counted down the days until they could visit him again.
:: After giving a little background I will tell this story the way that Doug told us and not change anything. I remember it like it was yesterday. But I want to make sure to provide the necessary tools to make this story come to life. ::
Early in the year 1945, the fall of Nazi Germany was inevitable. Hitler had pulled all of his available troops (which were few and scattered) back to defend Berlin. He placed all of his troops around the city, but on the inside of the city he place what was called the Hitler Youth Squad. Generally, the Youth Squads were boys from 14-18 of “pure Aryan blood” However, this was the end and Hitler did not have many troops left. So in early April, the last of the Youth Squad was comprised of any child that they could throw into the ranks. Most of them were not the zealot young soldiers that normally filled the squad’s ranks, but instead, were children who wanted nothing to do with Hitler. Too often do people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was Germany. Hitler placed these young children at the heart of Berlin with the intention of them being the last resort and defending Germany.
:: So back to the story! ::
After a few days Doug and his companion went back to the man who greeted them with the joy that he always did when they came. Immediately he started to tell his story. I remember it word for word.
“As A child I was forced to be a part of the Hitler Youth Squad. Not because my parents were supporters of his cause, but because there were no other options. Not only would they have been killed for denying Hitler the Youth of Germany, but I would have as well. I only remember the panic and fear as they gave us a gun, but never told us how to use it. They pushed us to the West end of Berlin and told us that we had to defend it. They told us that the Americans and the Russians were coming to kill us. They told us that if we succeed in defending our great city Hitler will give us our own countries and more money than we could possibly spend in our lifetimes. They also told us that God would punish us for not defending our lands and that if we ran, we would be shot!”
“Terrified, we all went to the West end of the city and waited. We waited for about 5 hours before we started to hear the loud roar of the tanks as they approached. Many of the other children were crying in fear. I remember not feeling anything at all; I was 11 years old and death was a confusing concept. Our enemies closed in and we could feel the whole world shake under the tanks as they got closer. As it seemed like the tanks were about to run over us, we saw the first soldier. He was a tall, white American with dark brown hair. He walked up the hill, saw us and stopped in fright. We did not know if we should fire, so we just stared back at him aiming our guns menacingly. The soldier turned and ran back down the hill screaming. We could hear the tanks shutting down and all of the American soldiers shouting in fear. Triumphantly we jumped for joy. We were shouting ‘We’ve won! We’ve won! God is on our side!’
“Suddenly the Americans flanked us. They had us all surrounded and one of them was yelling in German for us to drop out weapons. ‘This is not a game. Drop your weapons immediately!’ He shouted at us. We did as we were told and put our hands in the air. We had heard the stories of our enemy and knew that they would kill us on the spot. The tall solider with brown hair walked up to me and burst in the tears, fell to his knees and with both arms pulled me into a hug. He cried on my shoulder and then pulled us apart and looked at me closely. With tears running down his cheeks he reached over and pulled the Hitler Youth Squad Patch from my coat and threw it to the ground.”
“I looked up the all the other solider, who had lowered their weapons, and who also had tears in their eyes. I remember thinking that we had done something wrong, and that we had failed until I saw one of the American medics run up to one of the children who had hurt himself earlier that day and start to bandage his leg. They gave him chocolate and the men were able to speak German asked him if he was okay. I saw then that they really did stop their advance out of fear, but not because they thought they would die, but because their only other option was to kill children.”
Doug told us that at this point he, the man and his companion were all in tears, when the man said “That is actually not the end. As we enjoyed chocolate and clean water, we started to hear gun shots on the other end of town. Only then did I remember… Half of the youth squad was sent to the east side of the city… Where the Russians were advancing. For us, the Americans saw that we were children and stopped their advance, the Russians did not stop at all and all of the children that I use to play with were killed… The youngest being 8 years old.”
There are endless stories of heroism in war… But stories like this remind me how proud I am to be an American.
As Random As Random Gets 