47 Days: The True Story of Two Teen Boys Defying Hitler's Reich
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About this ebook
'47 DAYS' is a novelette and a partial excerpt from the novel, SURVIVING THE FATHERLAND—A True Coming-of-age Love Story Set in WWII Germany.
In March 1945 Hitler ordered his last propaganda command: send all 15 and 16-year old boys to defend the fatherland. 47 DAYS tells the true story of Günter and Helmut, best friends, who dared to defy and disobey. Without knowing how long the war might continue, they spent 47 harrowing days as fugitives on the run. Being caught meant certain execution.
SURVIVING THE FATHERLAND tells the true and heart-wrenching stories of Lilly and Günter struggling with the terror-filled reality of life in the Third Reich, each embarking on their own dangerous path toward survival, freedom, and ultimately each other. Based on the author's own family and anchored in historical facts, this story celebrates the resilience of the human spirit and the strength of war children.
Annette Oppenlander
Annette Oppenlander is an award-winning writer, literary coach and educator. As a bestselling historical novelist, Oppenlander is known for her authentic characters and stories based on true events, coming alive in well-researched settings. Having lived in Germany the first half of her life and the second half in various parts in the U.S., Oppenlander inspires readers by illuminating story questions as relevant today as they were in the past. Oppenlander’s bestselling true WWII story, Surviving the Fatherland, was a winner in the 2017 National Indie Excellence Awards and a finalist in the 2017 Kindle Book Awards. Her historical time-travel trilogy, Escape from the Past, takes readers to the German Middle Ages and the Wild West. Uniquely, Oppenlander weaves actual historical figures and events into her plots, giving readers a flavor of true history while enjoying a good story. Oppenlander shares her knowledge through writing workshops at colleges, libraries and schools. She also offers vivid presentations and author visits. The mother of fraternal twins and a son, she recently moved with her husband and old mutt, Mocha, to Solingen, Germany.
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Reviews for 47 Days
2 ratings1 review
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A book that centres around the spirit of resilience and persistence of WW2 children.
Thoroughly enjoyed it
Book preview
47 Days - Annette Oppenlander
Novels by Annette Oppenlander
A Different Truth
Escape from the Past: The Duke’s Wrath (Book One)
Escape from the Past: The Kid (Book Two)
Escape from the Past: At Witches’ End (Book Three)
Surviving the Fatherland: A True Coming-of-age Love Story Set in WWII Germany
Everything We Lose: A Civil War Novel of Hope, Courage and Redemption
Where the Night Never Ends: A Prohibition Era Novel
Dedication
For my father
who showed me that being different is a good thing.
Based on a True Story
I don’t want an intellectual education. Knowledge ruins our youth." –Adolf Hitler
Prologue
What made me do it? Even now, more than seventy years later, I cannot say. Not exactly, at least.
Oh, I do have an inkling. So let me explain.
I was the middle of three boys, my brother, Hans, just about a year older, my younger brother, Siegfried, eight years my junior. In our German home my father ruled and we obeyed, his box to the ear quicker than the strike of a cobra. Yet, we knew our place, each of us bonded within to our family, with homemade sweetbread, butter and red current jam on Sunday mornings, and the conviction that life would always continue as it had.
That is until the war started and my father went away. From then on, as months turned to years and life grew into the monstrous chore of survival, I forgot my good German manners, my obedience. I became someone else, a person I sometimes didn’t recognize, a being that fought and scraped like the lowest animal.
Until that fateful spring in 1945, I never realized what ‘home’ meant and what I’d do to keep it in my heart. How deep Hitler’s evil reached. How it changed the way I looked at the world and forced me to make an impossible choice.
Anymore, my memory plays tricks. But though I struggle to keep my day-to-day life straight, I clearly remember the day everything started.
I remember when we were ordered to die for the Fatherland.
Solingen, Germany, March 5, 1945
I sat on my hands to keep them from freezing when our teacher, Herr Leimer, entered. After the citywide bombing last November when just about everything in Solingen had shut down, I’d finally managed to get back into a vocational school that accepted new students.
Leimer was old as dirt and had been pulled from retirement after all the real teachers had joined the war. It was March and our classroom, windows carefully plastered with assorted vinyl, cardboard and tarpaper, was as gloomy and cold as the frozen landscape outside.
Like my classmates, I wore a coat and a wool hat Mother had knitted from an old sweater. You could see puffs of breath rise from every desk. People coughed and sniffed, our noses red and dripping. Frustrated about the stiffness in my fingers, I had been opening and closing my fists because technical drawing was my favorite subject.
But instead of going to the board and suggesting a quick-draw to warm up, Leimer repeatedly cleared his throat. His cheeks, rugged from age and too many cold nights—or as some rumored, too much drink—burned unusually red.
When the shuffling of chairs and bodies finally ceased, I forgot my icy hands. The old man looked as if he’d fall over any second. He even swayed a bit. Still, he didn’t speak. Instead he looked at us with his watery blue eyes, holding everyone’s gaze until the chair shuffling resumed and everyone began to whisper.
That’s when Leimer raised his arms and the room turned as silent as a graveyard.
Boys,
he said. I was asked to tell you...
Leimer’s voice choked a little. You’ve been summoned for another muster. Let me read what it says.
He labored to unfold an official looking document, his hands bony and covered with bluish veins.
Every man, born 1928 or 1929, must report for muster.
He paused, his breath loud in the stillness. "If found fit for battle, your orders are as follows: Travel to Marburg by next Monday, March 12 and find the office of the Hitler youth. The paper sank. With it Leimer’s voice.
That gives you a week. But first you have to report for muster to update your papers. Everything else will be explained there."
I scratched my jaw and took a look around the room. Had I heard right? I’d been mustered last fall and they told us then that we were deferred. I mean I was barely sixteen, some of us still fifteen.
This couldn’t be happening. Not now. I’d been sure the war would be over soon. Of course, nobody said it out loud, but at home people whispered of certain defeat. Last December when we’d met the horse soldier, he’d insisted the end was near.
A tremble went through me, starting at my toes and moving up and out through my limbs. I wanted to hurl my pencil at Leimer.
How will we get to Marburg?
somebody asked.
Where’s Marburg? Are we all going?
Excited voices filled the room.
Leimer raised both arms. Silence.
The chatter subsided reluctantly. There is no official transport to Marburg. It’s maybe two hundred kilometers southeast. You must find the way yourself. Look for a truck or try catching a train. Most likely you’ll have to walk.
Why do we have to go now?
Paul Mans was still as small as last summer when the officer had slapped him around during muster. I was sure he dreaded another visit. So did I.
The Führer needs everyone’s help.
Leimer hesitated as if he wanted to say more. But then he simply shook his head.
What about uniforms?
somebody said.
And weapons?
another boy yelled.
Leimer frowned. I assume you’ll receive everything when you get there. Class dismissed.
The room erupted in chatter, voices in various levels of development, deep baritones, mixed with scratchy adolescents. I watched Rolf Schlüter who always bragged and shoved people around. You were either in the Rolf Schlüter club or you weren’t. I definitely wasn’t.
Right now Rolf was surrounded by a throng of eager listeners. They all leaned in close while Rolf was explaining his strategy. It’s easy, you’ll see. If we all do our part we’ll be there in no time.
Funny, I thought as I carefully placed the pencil stub in my pocket, Rolf is good at taking credit for other people’s