Handwritten fragment found by a Russian infantryman after the fall of Berlin in 1945. Translated from the German.
…the wound the autumnal city. For the moment, it is quiet, but the planes come, day and night, and the city burns.
Johann and Max are well. Mr Hanf was kind enough to allow us space in his basement below the store. He is providing us with just enough food and water to get by. By his look, it is more than he can give and I fear that he and his wife are going without because of us.
Why is this happening? What has happened to the Thousand Years the Chancellor promised? The city burns, my friends are dead, the spree fills with debris, the children are scared and you are gone. Gone away with the Weirmacht I know not where. You haven’t responded to me in months. I try to be brave in front of the children and Mr Hanf, but at night …
They are coming again. The sirens are wailing! Oh! The English and Americans are coming to destroy us again! I can hear them, and the city cries as its roots tremble. The linden trees burn, screaming…
*The destruction of the city.
This week’s master class is brought to you by “…to wound the autumnal city.” from Dhalgren by Samuel R Delany.
When I chose the sentence for the first Master Class, I didn’t know what I was going to write. I have an intimate knowledge of the book it came from and was worried that my response to the prompt would be influenced by it. About an hour after I posted the announcement for Master Class, I knew that I would be writing a WWII piece for this. It seemed to fit.
I in no way came close to the style of Mr Delany in this piece, but that’s ok. I like what I wrote and feel that it fits the prompt nicely.
This reminds me somewhat of Red Dawn, when they found the two girls hidden in one of the boy’s father’s (grandfather’s?) cellar. War is terrible, but some of the greatest stories ever told are based on the World Wars.
I am somewhat of an amateur WWII historian. I enjoy writing these short blurbs to show the human side of war.
My grandfather was an Army Air Force pilot in WW2. He made the headline of the Washington Post when he brought his new wife, a fräulein, home after he was stationed in Germany.
Now I need to start thinking about how to approach the prompt. I like what you did with it, and it came as no surprise to me that it was a WWII piece from you.
What an interesting way to spin the fragment!
I still want to play, but book stuff has got my fresh words all bottled up.
There will many weeks to come in which you can participate. No worries!
Great tone in this piece – it very much sounds like a diary entry or lost letter. I love the reference to linden trees – makes me think of fin de siecle literature and music (Schumann’s lieder, for example). And WWII was also the end of an era, of course.
The linden trees is a reference to Unter den Linden, the street in Berlin. I’m happy that this came across the way I intended.
Here’s the text Der Lindenbaum – not a great translation, IMO, but you’ll get the point.
http://myweb.dal.ca/waue/Trans/Mueller-Lindenbaum.html
My dad grew up with a Linden just outside his bedroom window and this line, “While sleeping in its shadow,
sweet dreams it sent to me.”
reminded me of his stories about the sweet smells he got from it while going to sleep.