FREE e-books on until March 12th

Yes, FREE is the cheapest I can offer my books at this time as a show of support for the ongoing conflict in Ukraine. I know reading my WWII memoir, “We Don’t Talk About That,” will be like a ‘close encounter’ with war and go deeper than only seeing it on TV. Learning more about what happened more than half a century ago and comparing history and the news of conflict right now will give the reader new insight.

The sequel “Flight into the Unknown” tells you the story of my experience as an immigrant to Canada. I was trying to get away from the ’aftermath’ of war, having lived in three Germanys: Ten years under the Nazis, ten years under tight Communist rule and, after escaping nearly ten years in capitalistic lucrative West Germany. I know what it’s like to be a second-class citizen. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I am one of the few people still alive who were there and can tell the tale!

Clicking to buy will automatically add the FREE coupon. Click HERE to download your free copy of “We Don’t Talk About That” and HERE to download “Flight into the Unknown”.

9/11 – Just an Infamous Number?

twin-towers-nycFifteen years ago the world stood still for not just moments. Nobody could understand what happened and why two planes would fly directly into the Twin Towers in New York. Many people, when watching it later on TV, thought it was a scene developed and shot for a movie. I had been in New York some years before and was taken into one of those towers. Today I want to write about what I felt at the time when they came crumbling down.

A small basement type bookshop in Dundarave (West Vancouver, Canada), loved by readers and writers alike, had a section with comfortable chairs where one could peruse the newest books and another section with small tables and chairs where herbal tea was served. This is where I was sitting, sipping my chamomile tea. I don’t remember if they served cookies or something to nibble on. Another reader joined me since there was no other empty table. It’s weird, but in Canada, everybody tries to sit at their “own” table. In Europe, people would ask to join someone to have and maybe also provide company. They relish meeting new people. We chatted away about the books we had just checked out when all of a sudden the clitter-clatter and the noise of the boiling water at the serving counter and even the soft background music stopped. It was eery, still, and the person at the kettle stood there, with a white face and wide open eyes, staring into nowhere. Just a few minutes ago she had gone to serve someone on the little outside terrace.

She half whispered, “Oh my God! They have bombed the Twin Towers in New York. Maybe Vancouver is next. The USA is at war.”

Everybody stared at her and it was me who finally broke the spell and asked: “How do you know?”

“The radio. Someone outside is listening to a radio and it was just announced. Both towers came down and thousands of people must be dead. There are so many offices…Some airplanes flew right into the buildings. Suicide bombers. They tried the Pentagon too but I don’t know more…” She changed the channel on her music system and turned up the volume and we all heard it announced. At first, we all sat there like deer caught in headlights and then all hell broke loose. People jumped up from the tea as well as the reading section and crowded the poor lady, we all wanted to pay as fast as we could to get home and watch the news on television. To make it faster some just threw dollar bills onto the counter, not waiting for change.

I ran out the back door to the Seawall, a wonderful walkway along the Pacific Ocean since it was faster and closest to my apartment building. I met my friend Inga on the way and she knew a bit more already. She had left her apartment after watching the news. She just couldn’t stand it indoors. She was more than excited and started talking about an interesting book she was in the process of reading. Apparently, Nostradamus had predicted this and other events back in the fifteenth century. I asked her if I could borrow the book when she was finished. She promised to lend it to me providing I gave it back after three days. Then we parted.

I sat glued to my couch for the rest of the day and watched the news over and over and over again. The announcer explained that a couple had taken a video while standing on the balcony of their hotel not far from the towers. By chance, they caught everything on their camera. They had handed the video over to the New York News team that soon turned up at the scene. They were interviewed and couldn’t even fathom what they had just photographed. And no, they didn’t want any money for the video. Those planes flying directly into the towers and the towers crumbling was hard to stomach. It really could have been a horror movie.

I remember how the news people tried to put a spin on the news about why, and who, and what, when they showed a clip of President Bush sitting on a small bench in a Kindergarten class in Florida, surrounded by kids. A man, maybe a bodyguard, came in and whispered something into his ear. President Bush’ face was uncomprehending, his mouth fell open, his eyes had an empty expression. It was not a picture anyone would want to see of their President. He seemed helpless, shocked, did not know what to say or do.

The World Towers prior to 2001

The World Towers prior to 2001

Now fifteen years have come and gone since this horrible happening. The place where those two towers, once so important for the New York skyline, stood is a wonderful rebuilt area with a Museum and other attractions. What shocked me today was the information that there are still people who maintain that it was all pre-planned and organized by the government with President Bush involved; even to the extent that the two “planes” were just holographic images.

Just recalling his expression in the Kindergarten when he first heard of it I feel strongly that this is absolute rubbish.

A Christmas Fairy tale: “The Weeping Angel.” #Christmas

snow angel joeyBig tears were welling up behind his eye lids. He tried very hard to blink them away. He was flying within a large flock of fellow angels, wings spread wide, arms stretched out as if ready to embrace someone. You see, this angel was new at angel-ling. He could not yet hide his feelings behind an angelic smile.

He couldn’t take his eyes of the planet earth: There it was, hanging in the atmosphere, slowly, ever so slowly turning around and around. Because of this, our angel could see many different countries, many different people, and they were all doing many different things. It was Christmas time, the time when humans on earth celebrated the Lord Jesus’ Birthday, different ways in different countries, even different dates. They do so every year, have done so for more than two-thousand years. Now, once again, they were singing of love and Peace on Earth, giving presents to each other, thinking more than usually of helping and sharing with the less fortunate and the poor. Our angel wondered: Why didn’t they do this all year ‘round? Didn’t the Lord say, “The left hand does not need to know what the right one does”? Wouldn’t this mean they should not have a reason for helping but just do it? Why wait for Christmas? Couldn’t it be like Christmas all year ‘round?

Oh, our angel thought, there is so much trouble down there. The humans are trying to destroy each other, and their beautiful planet in the process.

It was not the fire from the deep bowels of the earth, spit out by angry boiling volcanoes, which was trying to reach way up into the sky. No. No, it was fire made by the humans to destroy other humans, burn each other’s cities and kill each other’s people. They call it “War.” There seems to be war in many countries, on many continents. Where neighbours destroying neighbours? Our angel spotted a prison camp in the middle of nowhere. You couldn’t escape from there. A barbed wire fence was built around it anyway. Watch-towers were on the four corners, and several heavily clad soldiers on each of them with machine guns pointed to a large group of shivering men in the middle of a square. Many had no shoes, just old rags wrapped around frostbitten feet. A well-dressed commander stood before them. A huge flag on a pole beside him did not move. It was twilight, the time between the parting day and the rapidly approaching night. Frost crackled in the air. The breath of the men, coming like tiny puffs of smoke, suspended over and around each of them. What an eerie scene, useless in the big picture of history, but still already part of it.

Wait! What was that? Sounds of music? Was that a sound coming from a single, shy voice in the wintry night air? The sound got louder, stronger, steadier, as all the men in the middle of the square joined in, despite the warning shots fired around them, bouncing off the hard, frozen earth. Loud and clear it rang up to the sky:

“Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright…”

The flock of angels slowed their flight, even descended a little. They were allowed to do that if they saw something unusual, you know. A magical night it was. A wondrous feeling was evoked by this chorus of men in the middle of nowhere, kept in a camp from which there was no escape, even if the barbed wire fence and the guns would not be in place. The angel saw they were lost but there was hope against hope.

Is there still a chance for “Peace on Earth”? Maybe. Maybe all isn’t lost yet, thought our angel. Now, what was that? All the armed soldiers put down their guns. They joined the singing in a strange, guttural language. As our flock of angels moved on they saw and heard it happen in many countries as they passed over the slowly, ever so slowly turning planet earth. Soldiers came out of the trenches and shook hands with their enemy, even gave each other little gifts and kicked a ball around. Tomorrow is another day; they may have to shoot at each other again.

The tears behind our angel’s eye lids welled up mightily. No blinking them away anymore. Large and hot, they silently rolled over his cheeks and dripped down into the atmosphere. They froze to tiny icicles, falling, falling and falling until they reached warmer air, melted slightly, changed their shape and turned into snowflakes. They drifted down to planet earth, a few at first, then more and more, and still more! You see, all the angels had started weeping, just as all the men had joined the singing in all those languages, after one had had the heart to start the song. The angels flapped their wings to hold them steady in the air, and because of all the flapping, a wind came up.

The wind made the snowflakes dance, up and down, around and around. Soon the air was filled with snowflakes, closer and closer to planet earth they came. They fell on the upturned faces of the singing men, they fell on people who had lost a loved one; they fell on children who had nothing to eat or didn’t even have a place to call home. The snowflakes mingled with all the tears. Soon you wouldn’t know which of the drops, rolling down young and old cheeks, were tears and which were melting snowflakes. The cold dark night, the endless loneliness of a faraway but star filled sky filled the hearts of all people with a longing so strong that it hurt. How they wanted to be with their loved ones, oh, to have a bed again, a warm room and a warm coat, and hot soup to fill the belly. But mostly, they were longing for Peace on Earth!

Flock of angelsAnd so it was, and so it is: When you see a single snow flake drift down, look up for others. Because, angels fly in flocks you see, and when one is sad and sheds a tear, it is never over a trivial thing. Therefore, all the other angels will be kind and supportive and compassionate, and soon, they cry too. During all the commotion, they will lose height and will have to flap their wings, just like birds, to stay in the air. And that is the wind that makes the snowflakes dance. You can count on it. The angels are just overhead.

You don’t believe me? Go out on a snowy winter night at Christmas! You will see it for yourself.