Diary of Annie's War

by Annie Droege

  Today it has snowed all day and is still snowing even though it is late at night. If one had the heart to admire it then the Leden Strasse is a perfect treat. Every bush and tree is thick with snow and all the children with their sledges so merry. As a contrast we hear that Frau Kor, who lives opposite this hotel, has died with heart failure on hearing her only son was wounded. She was working in her business a couple of hours before her death.

  There is nothing but misery all around.

  Arthur’s last postcard was not all bright. I can see that he is very low spirited.

  Tuesday 5th January.

  Belle and I took a walk today to see the place under snow. It is really beautiful. The snow is quite eighteen inches thick. It has snowed without stop for thirty-eight hours and is still at it. It is not possible to describe the beauty of the place. The walk around the walls was simply perfect and many people were busy with their cameras. The snow plough had been all round and we had a path two yards wide banked each side with snow. The telephone lines are like thick ladders and there are so many broken. They hang like festoons everywhere and are thicker than a man’s arm in snow. The fir trees are doubled over with the weight of the snow. Everywhere one hears the bells of the sleighs.

  Each shopkeeper here keeps the snow runners ready for winter. They simply lift their everyday carriage or wagon from the wheels and place it on the runners. All the post vans, soldiers’ carts, children’s carriages etc. can be put on runners and you never see a pair of wheels. It seems so peaceful - the lovely white streets and the jingle of bells. Even the children’s mail carts have bells.

  The windows of my room are opposite the Wollenweber Strasse. It is a very old street of the 17th and 18th Century. The houses have very steep roofs, all kinds of gables, bay windows and little attics looking out of their deep mantle of snow and it is a perfect treat. Now and again we hear a rumble and hear the fall of snow from one or another of these roofs. But the houses have such deep overhangs that the snow clears the footway and falls directly into the street.

  The soldiers make very merry and many a good game of snowballs I witness. The young girls and lads dare not throw snowballs at the soldiers when they are marching. They wait until they are under trees and then throw at the boughs so all the snow falls on them.

  We saw a good joke this morning. Some girls did this trick, and when the front of the procession with the officer had turned a corner the four last soldiers in the procession pelted the girls awfully. A sergeant, who was walking in the streets, deliberately turned his back on them and stood looking at a fine garden as the girls got a good pelting. The soldiers then picked up their guns and ran after the procession and the people screamed with laughter. We left the sergeant admiring the garden scene. I admired him for his good sense. Those soldiers did so enjoy the two minutes on their own.

  Some of these men are such nice fellows and I get quite used to them passing my window day after day, sometimes three times. I can single out faces and watch them each time. Then comes the day when they have the covered helmet and the corduroy trousers on. I see them no more. They have gone to the front.

  I often cry when I miss them. But it is far worse when you see them a few weeks later in a bath chair and looking like death. One wonders how it is with his own people when it upsets a stranger so.

  These days are too dreadful.

  It is sad to go into the churches also – crowds of soldiers praying so fervently and during the Stations of the Cross. So many go away with the thought that they will not back come again.

  The war seems wholesale murder. I hear so much I cannot write it.

  The soldiers do not know when they leave here, or where they go to. The people do not know where they are until a letter comes to say. Many come back wounded a week later and many letters come home at the same time to say their last goodbye. A lady here got her first letter from her husband two weeks after his departure saying: ‘Beloved wife, my last greetings on our third wedding anniversary’.

  That was all he was able to write being mortally wounded. She was at home with a one-year-old baby.

  I could tell scores of sad tales that happen here in Hildesheim. When a man is advertised as missing his people do not know if he is a prisoner in England, France or Russia. Or if it means he was blown to bits and cannot be identified.

  When you send a parcel or letter you simply address it to so and so, such and such a regiment and the post forwards it to whichever country he is in.

  Wednesday 6tth January.

  It is nine weeks since Arthur left here and there is no sign of him coming home at all.

  Today rain has set in and the streets are dreadful with melting snow. There are no men to clean it and the telephone is quite at a standstill. So many wires are broken and so few men are left here to repair – all being at the front.

  I have to take my photo to the police today.

  Belle got a ‘Times’ (it was a perfect treat) of December 25th. It gave us such pleasure.

  Thursday 7th January.

  It is Belle’s birthday so I went round to congratulate her. She had received a card from Arthur and a letter from Emily. The latter says they are on their way to Nijmegen (Netherlands) and the card was from Köln.

  I had a visit also from Frau Grebe and her mother. She tells me that if her son gets away from Ruhleben then he must go to the front. He is thirty-five. Men up to forty-five are called up so I am glad Arthur is where he is.

  It has rained all day and the snow is almost gone. One feels so sorry for the poor soldiers.

  Tonight a three day preparation for a whole day of prayer commences. We go to a sermon in the cathedral for the first preparation tomorrow the 8th, which is a fast day. Saturday is a day of preparation and confession. Sunday is for communion and the offering up of the whole day in devotion all over Germany for peace. It is a grand idea with the whole country (Catholics) at one in prayer and fasting and Holy Communion for the one great cause. Let us hope there is soon a result.

  Belle, Rosie and I went to the Dom early. There was a fine preacher and the place was packed. But the less said about the sermon the better. Of course, England was to blame for everything.

  Friday 8th January.

  We went to meet Frau v. d. Busch today it being her birthday. In the morning a policeman came here for my birth and marriage date etc. I got in a hobble when I went to the police for Arthur had not announced us when we came to stay here.

  It appears that as soon as you come into a place to stay over a week you must go to the police of the place. You must give your age, place of birth, name etc. If you do not do so you are fined eight shillings. Of course they find you out if you stay longer. I suppose Arthur had more to think of. I asked if my man had not announced himself at the police, how was it that he was a prisoner. I thought we had been amused enough and said I thought the neglect lay upstairs with the police chief. I said that I could not understand them. I think they were glad to let me go. They were tired of hearing: ‘I understand not’.

  In the evening we went to the Dom to hear what the Father had to say but he was too ill to preach. I was not sorry for I enjoyed the sermon from a different priest far better.

  Saturday 9th January.

  When I visited Rosie v.d. Busch today I said how I had expected Arthur, after he had written, to come home. But she said I must not wish him free as all the men up to forty-five had been up for inspection. If he came out of Ruhleben it meant the front for him. I am so glad he is not here.

  Things are very quiet and the people seem a little downhearted. They explain that the very wet weather we have had prevents them from going on. They are convinced that they are steadily winning. Still you can see that they are uneasy over no news. They commonly speak of Russia being finished before Christmas but we hear nothing at all from there.

  Eight hundred men go away from here tonight. They do not know where and they will not be allowed to write home their address. They are allowed just the regiment and compan
y and name. The letters will find them either in France, Belgium or Russia. Their people do not know where they fight in this bad weather as all the soldiers are given the same clothing.

  Sunday 10th January.

  It was a memorable day for me as regards church. I never saw so many communicants in one church before. It was the finish of the three days of prayer and all who could were to confess and communicate for the peaceful end of the war.

  Another Father has come to preach at the Dom. It is really marvellous where the people come from. When you think that the place is only a third the size of Stockport it has eight Catholic churches. Also that more than half of the population is Protestant. Every church was full and you could not get near the confessionals. Priests came on the altar and said Mass and went off again. Still there were priests giving communion all the time at the altar rails. I heard three complete Masses and half a fourth. Still there were people waiting for communion.

  Everyone goes to their church now for help. No one else can give them comfort. People who live in a free country do not have any idea of what war means in a conscript country. Misery is everywhere you go and each day buries more men.

  I saw one of our young waiters at the church. He seemed full of trouble and afterwards I questioned him. He told me he has three brothers at the front - nineteen, twenty-one and twenty-two-years-old. His father was called up last Thursday. He is forty-five years old. He was very busy slaughtering, as he is a butcher, when the telegram came at noon. He went at once to the barracks, in his working clothes, and his wife ran to get help in the business to finish the slaughtering. At eight o’clock in the evening she got a telegram to say he was already in uniform and was in Munster. The poor boy said: ‘My mother cannot cry any more. She has done so much. She can only pray for them all’.

  If he was in England he would have no such trouble.

  The head waiter told me today that everyone from nineteen to forty-eight years old must present themselves this month for an army of five million must be ready for April. So there is trouble for someone awaiting. It is such an anxious time and one hears such dreadful things.

  Today I hear of twenty-four new Zeppelins for London. Each one is to carry fifty bombs of half a hundredweight each. They are going in nine weeks time and some of them are to be used in Nieuwpoort (Flanders) this week.

  Got a postcard from Arthur and he wants a few things and a box to lock them in. It sounds as if someone is pinching. But I don’t blame them if what I hear of the place is true.

  Tuesday 12th January.

  I saw many men come in. There was not one under forty years of age. I felt so sorry for them. They just tramped along with their cardboard boxes as if they noticed nothing. They were looking for the houses they were to sleep in. Everywhere is full up.

  With fourteen-thousand soldiers in the place it makes a difference. Frau Kuhner is very ill, inflamation of the lungs, but they still have a soldier in quarters with them and it makes such a deal of work. One must be up to get his coffee before he goes out. The people never grumble and say they must do it for their country.

  I feel so sad for the horses poor things. They seem so very strange in a town and prance about as if afraid. Their drivers, young boys, look sad over the affair and the masters ditto. Now there are no horses to do the heavy work and spring is coming.

  Wednesday 13th January.

  I have not heard anything of the war for nine days.

  I had a letter from Emily yesterday. She is in Holland and writes that no one will change her German money. She is in a fix. I am so very sorry for her but she hopes to do better in Rotterdam. She says she has been to three banks but they will not change her any. I am anxiously waiting her next letter.

  We hear of sixty flyers setting out for London. But the fog was so dense they could see nothing. On getting to Dover it was clear so they dropped a few bombs.

  There are many new men in today and I hear we have fourteen-thousand men in the place. So you can guess that every home and place is full of them.

  I was in the chemist’s yesterday when a young man came in who was employed there and he was allowed to go free. There was great joy as the owner was at the front and he was the only capable one left - the rest being boys.

  I have had a miserable two days, not busy at all, and my head nearly driving me frantic.

  So many things are scarce though the prices are not high. It is just that things run out. Today it is posted that there will be no white bread after the 15th.

  I was at the Peligeaus’ today and they said that for many weeks no bird seed could be bought. Many people were letting the canaries fly out of their windows. Marie saw one a few days ago on the house tops. One came into their garden and they caught it. It was half dead with hunger. Having some seed from the last bird they had they fed it. It was over an hour in feeding. They will keep it as long as the seed lasts.

  Thursday 14th January.

  No war news today but we hear of a terrible earthquake in Italy and ten thousand are dead. Here they say it is a great punishment from God to the Italians because they have not kept their bond in the alliance. They have gone to war with the Russians rather than helping Germany.

  Also had a letter from Emily in Holland. She says she is waiting there for the birth certificates of the children which must come from England before they can be allowed on board ship. She has had a very rough time with the journey. I am glad I did not ask her to take the children. Now that it has turned out to be such a bad journey it’s perhaps as well that she suggested it herself.

  I am very anxious over them. In fact the anxiety is making me quite ill. As the letters are three days old before I get them it is very likely she is on her journey home by this time. She has heard how very badly the Germans are treated in England and seems anxious over her reception.

  Well, she can’t be any worse treated than I am here. In fact it will take a great deal to make me believe that the English so far forget themselves. She writes that her opinion has changed since she left here. She hears more news but cannot tell it to me. I wonder over it often.

  Today the death is announced of the young priest who preached the sermon in the cathedral on Thursday last which so much surprised me. I think the poor man must have been partly delirious when he spoke to us that night. He was taken to the hospital on the Friday and was high in fever (Scarlet). He just sank and died on the Wednesday evening following. It’s a very sad case as he is only thirty-two-years-old and was a marvellous preacher.

  There is a lot in the papers at present of what Father Vaughn has been saying. The Jesuits here greatly deplore his sermon. I should like to read it. The Jesuits also remark that he did not say all that was published in the papers here as regards the Kaiser. We have written to a friend for a book of the sermon from England.

  Today is miserable and I have been ill all day.

  Friday 15th January.

  This morning I was awakened by the noise of many horses in the streets. They were for the front and were principally working horses for all the good ones went away early in the war. These were left for the farmers to use in the fields but now even these are going and they are here for examination. Some of these are poor enough and seem to me to be aged also.

  Saturday 16th January.

  Today is the last muster of horses and some fine heavy ones are in the town. I hear that two thousand soldiers leave here along with the horses in the next few days. From Monday the whole of the railway is held up for the transport of troops and horses. From the provence (that is ours) nine thousand men and a great many horse are to go. It is what they call the second muster and it will occupy the rail for five days. So no railway travelling for anyone else. Also the second Landstorm is called up. That is all up to forty-five years old. If Arthur was free he would have to go to the front.

  We hear today of a great German victory in Flanders by Soissons. They have captured four thousand five hundred Frenchmen and as many guns. It seems to be a great advantage. We
have no news of Poland for over a week.

  I had a visit from Dr. Kahn today. He has been to Ruhleben to see Arthur and says he looks very well. I am so glad to hear it. He has brought me a paper giving me the control of the whole estate.

  It is a comfort to hear someone say that they think that the war will be over by Easter and most people think June or July. But one man today said it cannot last longer than Easter really. I do some times lose all hope of better times.

  Sunday 17th January.

  Today the streets are full of soldiers for they commence to go away tomorrow, also the horses. Over two thousand men in all to go from here and six hundred horses. But where to? They themselves do not know.

  There are notices in the papers telling us to be careful of white bread and tea. The flour will have to last out until we have new wheat.

  They are collecting old woollen clothes at all the houses. These are then made into under-woollens for the soldiers and the pieces left over are joined up into patchwork rugs for the men. They are also asking you to sell all old silver spoons, ornaments etc. And are giving you the address to take it to.

  Whole houses of people give their time to sewing all day for the army and are making all kind of things. I think all things on sale for the field are dear of course. They are considered as luxuries. I bought half-a-pound of butter in a tin for a shilling and two pence and I thought it dear.

  Also the cardboard boxes are so expensive. I send one to Arthur about six inches deep, twenty inches long and twelve inches wide and it cost four pence. It makes parcels dear for poor people. Petroleum is very scarce. Forty-five pfennigs a quart. That is five-pence-halfpenny English and you cannot get it at that. No shopkeeper dare sell to any one person more than half a quart.