Nobody Could Foresee The Horrors

In 1933, my family moved to Switzerland, where my father was the German ambassador. I went to school there, and afterwards I started studying in Britain and France. So my first personal look at Nazi Germany was only at the age of 17, when I had to come back in order to start my military service.

I saw Kristallnacht myself in November 1938, here in the middle of Berlin. I had just started my military service. I was on my bicycle that day, riding around the city[with some friends], and we saw the demonstrations, the looting of [Jewish] stores. We were watching silently and doing nothing. I had a feeling, first of all, of powerless-ness. There was the clear impression that the state authorities were committing crimes. But, of course, in 1938 none of us knew the name of Auschwitz; nobody could foresee the future horrors.

The war started on Sept. 1, 1939. A few hundred meters away from me on the Polish-German border, on the second day of the war, my older brother was killed. I had to bury him there. I fought in Poland and later, in the Soviet Union. I was wounded in 1945, and on May 8 I was staying with a sister in Germany.

My feeling on that day was exactly what I expressed later when I was in office as president: this was a day of liberation. Now I might add that this was not altogether a popular view in Germany when I said so in my speech on the 40th anniversary of the end of the war on May 8, 1985. It’s quite true that for many Germans, May 8, 1945, didn’t bring anything but the start of real suffering. But there is no longer any serious debate: this date was one of liberation.

title: " Nobody Could Foresee The Horrors " ShowToc: true date: “2023-01-03” author: “Wendy Regalado”

In 1933, my family moved to Switzerland, where my father was the German ambassador. I went to school there, and afterwards I started studying in Britain and France. So my first personal look at Nazi Germany was only at the age of 17, when I had to come back in order to start my military service.

I saw Kristallnacht myself in November 1938, here in the middle of Berlin. I had just started my military service. I was on my bicycle that day, riding around the city[with some friends], and we saw the demonstrations, the looting of [Jewish] stores. We were watching silently and doing nothing. I had a feeling, first of all, of powerless-ness. There was the clear impression that the state authorities were committing crimes. But, of course, in 1938 none of us knew the name of Auschwitz; nobody could foresee the future horrors.

The war started on Sept. 1, 1939. A few hundred meters away from me on the Polish-German border, on the second day of the war, my older brother was killed. I had to bury him there. I fought in Poland and later, in the Soviet Union. I was wounded in 1945, and on May 8 I was staying with a sister in Germany.

My feeling on that day was exactly what I expressed later when I was in office as president: this was a day of liberation. Now I might add that this was not altogether a popular view in Germany when I said so in my speech on the 40th anniversary of the end of the war on May 8, 1985. It’s quite true that for many Germans, May 8, 1945, didn’t bring anything but the start of real suffering. But there is no longer any serious debate: this date was one of liberation.