LEST WE FORGET

November 11, 2010, Remembrance Day in Australia - and the beginning of Carnival in Germany, maybe not a coincidence.

On this day in 1918 the guns of the 1st World War finally fell silent. Australia lost 60.000 soldiers in that war, a huge number considering the small population of Down Under at the time.

I like to remember my grandfather on this day. His name was Wilhelm Laube. He lived in Berlin and was a plumber by profession. The War was not of his making. But he had to put on a uniform and was given a rifle like most other young men.

                                            Wilhelm Laube with Iron Cross and Dog Tag

Grandfather did not see why he should kill people to whom he had not even been introduced and who were probably Christians as well. He also loved the cultures of neighbouring countries and would have liked to learn some of their languages.

      

When the battles started he aimed over the heads of the soldiers on the other side. He only wanted them to stay put and keep their heads down. However the others did not know that. So he ended up in hospital with a bullet in his head. He survived. One day a general walked into the hospital room with a basket in his arm and distributed Iron Crosses to all the wounded soldiers.

When the War was over and grandfather returned home he hung the Iron Cross on the Christmas tree. He did not talk much. One of the things he told my mother was that while the soldiers were dying in the trenches many of their officers were getting drunk in the safety of bunkers and let their german shepherd dogs drink champagne.

Soon after, in 1918, he joined the crowd when they marched to the Royal Palace and deposed the Emperor. Mother was ten years old then and was so scared for her father that she followed him all the way.

Grandfather is number five from the right with the bandage around his head.

"Russian gifts of love in the month of March 1916"

And that is what the bombs did.

Revolutionaries in front of the palace in Berlin (1918). Grandfather is not in the picture.

On grandfather's grave is an urn chiseled from stone with only one word on it: FRIEDEN (Peace). I hope he found it.

I will remember you grandpa!

PS.: Sorry folks, looking around the World at present I could not help putting this little story on the Web - for all the guys who have to shoot at people against their will. Will they ever learn?