One day I received an email from Joe Stephan, a naturalized American, like myself, and a refugee from Schlesien, like myself. Our personal stories are different in terms of historical context, yet strangely the same. And while the fate of Joe's family touches on the history of Breslau only in passing, it is a fascinating testimony to the incredible multinational complexity of this part of the world. Joe - thank you for sharing your experiences.

Andrzej

I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for putting together your fabulous website. I have been absolutely fascinated with all the information that you provide in it. I just wish I could remember my Polish. May have to relearn it yet.

I was absolutely fascinated, horrified and angry when I saw what had become of Breslau. You gave me more insight of Breslau than I ever knew. I also was infuriated that a gang of Nazi criminals could undo the work of centuries within a mere 12 years! How could that have happened?! It is just as my Rector at the Michelsen Landwirtschaftliche Oberschule in Hildesheim once lectured our class of 42 students: "We Germans are so stupid! Because of our actions we now are exactly where we were in the 12th century - at the Elbe River!".

Where did we live? From 1933, when I was born in Breslau on March 31, 1933 we moved to Gogolin. There - in 1939 - I had a front seat to the start of WWII. I saw a column of vehicles, tanks and soldiers move through Gogolin for three days and nights. The column halted only for six hours each night when everybody dropped where they were and slept before moving on - east to Poland. Four weeks later those same troops came pouring back through town - this time heading west - to build up for the attack on France and the Netherlands. Many of the vehicles displayed a shot-through Polish helmet on their hoods.

I actually saw the top Nazi of Germany twice in Gogolin that year.

After the Germans occupied Chorzow and the other surrounding towns we moved there in early 1940. My father had remarried in 1938 and my stepmother had lived in Chorzow all her life. She married an Italian gentleman. He died after fathering four children.

Now here is something that I never heard about from any books or stories about the Nazi regime: As soon as they arrived in south east Oberschlesien they classified everybody. If you lived in Germany proper before 1939, you received an Ausweis stamped: Reichsdeutscher - or a "1". My stepsister Ellie lived in Chorzow so she got a "Volksdeutcher" or "2" Ausweis. And my stepsister Luci - who lived just a block from Elli received a "3" which made her half Polish and half German. My stepmother's family all spoke fluent Polish. Well it was Luci's "3" Ausweis and the knowledge of Polish that saved us. I did not speak Polish but learned at a record rate in an effort to blend with the population. Being recognized as German was most perilous in those days.

Just to convey how our family crossed national boundaries in that area and how the war affected us personally: My stepmother's sister had a husband who was a captain in the Polish cavalry and who disappeared in the war during 1939. We assumed he died combating the Germans. Her son - an accomplished concert violinist was inducted in the German army and died in Russia. My stepmother's only son (and my step brother) fought on the German side and died outside Smolensk. My own brother died (we assume) in Stalingrad. My other brother fought in Africa and then in Russia and was captured at the end of the war in Frankfurt an der Oder (yes there is another Frankfurt in Germany) and was a prisoner of war in the Soviet Union. And in 1944 my father was called into service at age 54 and ultimately surrendered to American troops at the end of the war.

I was the youngest and would have ultimately fallen into the same military pattern my brothers did. I was already in the "Deutsche Jugend" and during air raids (no bombs ever dropped by the Western allies on Chorzow) had the job of standing in the corner of the first floor of our apartment building. The idea was that if our building collapsed the corners of each floor had a better chance of remaining in tact and protecting me. My job was then to race to the nearest fire warden and report that the people of our building were buried in the fortified cellar below. I was all of 11 years old. I still remember how the adults used to pat me on my blue helmet and laugh how big it was for my boyish head. But when the sirens sounded the final alarm and the American B-24s could be heard laboring in the clear blue sky under their heavy bomb load - the adults descended into the cellar and I stayed upstairs. During those times - which occurred two or three times per week - I felt an army of ants crawling up my seat and spine while listening to the anti aircraft guns going off all around us.

After the Russians and then the Polish Army entered Chorzow my stepmother's family thought that life under the Polish rule would be pretty much as was before 1939. We all found out pretty quick that all the pain and suffering caused by our people where about to descend on us Germans. Just a few days before the Soviets came into Chorzow, the main street leading to the rail road station was filled with people carrying suit cases and backpacks. When we inquired what was happening, we were told that evacuation orders had been given to all card carrying Nazis and their families. That left us out. My stepmother reasoned - hey rather than taking a chance running away we will stay. Life in Poland was good before - why not again?! Well - even the returning Polish soldiers who had fought in the West soon found that they were about as welcome as the plague under the new regime. Those well fed, tanned man in their handsome uniforms and berets had a bitter reception at the hand of their own people. We all hope General Anders would return and make everything - well "anders". We hoped in vain.

Because life was not so good by a long shot we tried to flee west but did not even know where the borders were. When the 33ed letter of my father finally reached us in April 1946, we took a train from Chorzow to Breslau. My stepmother had a Polish marriage certificate from her first marriage with her Italian husband - that served as a valid identification on the trip. When we arrived in Breslau that day we walked from one station to the main station to catch a train to what used to be known as "Hirschberg" (today Jelenia Gora). We walked through streets that were lined with destroyed houses, hulks of rusted, burned out cars littering the side walks, across a bridge full of big holes in the pavement. Stranded barges lined the shore of the Oder River. That was the extend of my view of Breslau. We got on the train alright but I stood on one foot for the next eight hours until we got to our destination- there was no room to put the other one down. People were standing on platforms and sitting on top of the cars roofs.

We eventually made it to West Germany and four years later I had the fortune to come to the US as an exchange student (1950). Because I did not have an immigration visa I had to return in July of 1951. How I dreaded that! When I was a senior in high school in Ohio I excelled in all subjects but did miserably in American Government. I had absolutely no concept of what democracy was. For example I could not understand why you needed more than one man to run a country! But I had learned enough to try introduce a bill through Congressman Bricker of Ohio to let me stay here.

My efforts failed. I had to leave. But by December 4, 1951 I was back in New York harbor - this time as a legal immigrant - hallelujah!

I joined the US Air Force in 1952 and served in Japan and Taiwan. I felt I needed to do something for the country who took me in. As it turned out America gave much more back to me in turn. I became a citizen in January 1954. I did not go back to Germany for 40 years - had no desire to until I suddenly lost the wife of my youth (American of course).

I become saddened and vocal when somebody runs this country down. And often it is some of her own people who do this because they have never experienced life threatening hardships. I don't remember anybody fleeing to the Soviet lines back in 1945 for safety. But lots of people were fleeing west - specifically toward the American lines. After the Soviets came into our area there were rumors that a war had started between the Soviets and the United States. We "left behind" Germans were actually hoping and praying it was true. Rumors that the Americans had arrived were bitterly disappointed when we would see an embassy car with the American flag flying from its fenders - that was it. We crawled back into our twilight zone.

I become reactionary when people deny that the holocaust happened. Although I really did not know what was going on I do remember my father whispering to my stepmother had he could smell flesh burning 8 km from a concentration camp near us. I saw the multitude of adults and children in Chorzow with the yellow Star of David. I was there when a mother and two children in their best clothing locked their apartment and headed to the train station. When my step sister - who was friends with them asked them where they were going - the mother answered: "Umsiedlung" or "resettlement". Well, now I know what really happened to them.

Religious people talk about a future Armageddon. Well, as far as I am concerned - we saw it happening right before our eyes. And some 42 million of us did not survive it and that is not counting the countless more that were maimed and injured for life. I was stuffed into a meat grinder along with millions of others and came out with minimum injury only through the grace of God.

One of my friends talked me into making peace with my birth country - so I went back in 1990, including the former Eastern Zone of Germany and Czechoslovakia - which gave me the creeps. I enjoyed Czechoslovakia - I did not like East Germany - everything looked gray, smelled gray and felt gray. I had this constant fear that something would happen to keep me from returning to the US. I have gone back twice since really enjoying each visit with my sister's family but I am always delighted to return to the wonderful USA. I would not think of going back to Poland - too many nightmares. But since the last two years I have been fascinated to research all I can find about the Schlesien and Oberschlesien area.

Therefore your wonderful website has been a tremendous resource. Thank you again Andrzej - may God bless you and your family.

God bless America!

Joe Stephan