JWE
Posts: 6580
Joined: 7/19/2005 Status: offline
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quote:
ORIGINAL: anarchyintheuk About the story . . . call me intrigued. His name was Walter Tewes, just an ordinary middle class Lutheran Rhineland German, who married Frieda Maria (Omi) who was just an ordinary middle class Alsatian Catholic. But Opa was a sergeant in the reserve army, so like a good German, off he goes to Spain. Well, he was shot and taken to the hospital in Valladolid. He recovered from the gunshot wound but contracted pneumonia. Not expected to live, he was dumped off the porch and left to his own devices. So, he called on a vision of his Frieda and seeing her image, he got up and walked. He got up and walked all the way from frikkin Spain, through France, till he got home in frikkin Wiesbaden Germany. I only knew him when I was a youngster. If I had known him later, I would have written a frikkin book about what I now realize was a frikkin epic journey. And this was just an ordinary man trying to come home. Opa died in 1962. He got home to his Frieda, and to their daughter Inge (my mother), and lived to tell the story to his grandchildren. I will always remember his face, and that special glint in his eye when he toasted through a glass of auslese. Oh, God, If I could only go back. I never frikkin knew. The things he could have told me, the stuff he could have said. But perhaps, it’s best this way. I remember the man. And I think that’s enough
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