"My name is Fritz Vincken. I was 12 years old in the year 1944 when the Fuhrer started a major offensive in the Ardennes Forrest, the Battle of the Bulge. War does not stop for holidays. Fighting raged everywhere. The countryside was littered with bodies and decrepit. My mother was not the type of person who would allow events to control her. It was a season of goodwill to all mankind, yet there seemed no end to the fighting and suffering. With food and basic supplies almost impossible to find and our home destroyed in a bombing raid, my mother made a momentous decision. She decided that we would seek refuge in our family's old hunting cabin."
The door to the cabin slammed shut from the freezing wind. I dropped my two suitcases on the carpet in the living room. I took in everything. I hadn't been to the cabin since before the war. The layers of dust caused me to let out a sneeze. My mother sighed.
"Put your suitcases against the wall. We have some cleaning up to do before I can start dinner."
I decided it would be best to start a fire to keep us warm while we cleaned the cabin. I grabbed pieces of wood from the pile in the corner next to the fireplace.
"Fritz, could you go get us a tree? What is Christmas without a Christmas tree?"
I nodded and quickly ran out into the cold snow to see if I can find a tree already on the ground. I spotted a large branch and decided it would do. I returned to the cabin and placed the large branch in the corner of the dining room.
Two hours had passed since we arrived at the cabin. We had cleaned it and my mother was busy in the kitchen chopping onions. I saw a smile across her face an she threw small potatoes in a pot. Even in the midst of this horrible war, she never let it bring her down. I decided to unpack my suitcases in our room. It had three small beds, one of which my mother's suitcases lay upon. I unpacked some books onto a shelf above my bed, some where in the language of the fatherland, while others were in the language of the enemy from across the channel. I dug up a photo of my family: me, my mother, father and brother. My father was a cook in the German Army and my older brother was killed in the deadly Battle of Stalingrad, two years prior. A single tear dropped from my cheek onto the wooden floor.
By the 24th of December the weather cleared up. Temperatures dropped overnight to below freezing, but the sun rose on a cloudless blue sky. All day long, many hundreds of Allied planes flew on their deadly missions undisturbed. The gloomy, heavy, roar of their engines, would remain forever entrenched in my mind. When darkness fell in late afternoon, the sudden quietness was conspicuous, as countless stars reclaimed the heavens. There were even long icicles that had formed outside our windows.
It was starting to become evening and my mother and I sat around the dining room table. She was busy fixing some clothing while I read from an English book. My mother told me that the Fatherland would lose the war, so I needed to prepare myself to learn English. The Fuhrer would have had her tongue for that. I knew my mother was a stubborn woman, but that was outright treason during that time. Even tough as a little boy I thought the Germans would one day conquer the world and force everyone to speak German, I still did what my mother asked of me. I looked out the window. It was snowing a lot more than it had been the previous few days.
"Have you seen any Americans, mama?" I asked.
"Yes, many. Before the war many American tourists would come and visit Germany. Many came for the Olympic Games in the 30's. They were just like us... only different."
"When the Fuhrer calls me to do my duty, I will take these Americans as prisoners for what they are doing to our people."
My mother sighed and shook her head.
"Fritz, you are not becoming a soldier. I have already lost one child, I will not lose another."
"But mama, it is my duty to join the Hitler You..."
We heard movement from outside.
"Papa!" I shouted as I ran to the door.
"No, Fritz!" my mother shouted back.
I grabbed the door nob and pulled, but the door swung open from outside and suddenly a gun is pointed at my face. My mother grabbed me and pulled me against her, trying to protect me. It was an American soldier. He slowly moved towards us, with his gun pointed at me.
"Please don't hurt us. Its just me and my son," trembled my mother with fear.
The soldier scans the entire cabin.
"All clear sarge," he shouted.
A man burst into the carrying a soldier over his soldier.
"There's a bed back here."
The soldier ran into our room and slowly put the soldier onto the open bed. I heard them speak in English, but it was so fast, I couldn't understand a word they said. We slowly walk towards the bedroom to see what was happening in our home, but the soldier that had barged in first showed us to stop moving. He pointed the gun back at us.
"I need hot water," said the sergeant, "and some bandages from my pack. Keep your eyes on those two krauts out there."
My mother lets go of me and walked to the kitchen.
"HEY! Where do you think you are going!"
"I...I...I have some hot water on the stove," gulped my mother, " I can go get it."
The soldier shakes his head left to right before nodding to her to get it. The soldier left the cabin and returned with three big army bags. He looked at me.
"Do you speak English?" he asked.
"Ja, a little," I replied.
My mother returned with a pot of hot water. The soldier signaled her to follow him.
"Here is the bandages, sarge. The woman is bringing the water.
"Why the fuck would you trust a Kraut with hot water? Have you learned nothing about these savage people, private? said the sergeant.
"What's she gonna do? We have guns?"
"You are by far the worst fucking private I have ever had to work with."
My mother brought the pot of hot water into the room.
"Don't you think she might have put something in the water to kill him? Huh?"
"Its hot water. Just normal hot water heated on a stove, soldier," said my mother with a stern look on her face, "and a clean cloth to clean the wound of your friend. I'm not a soldier, American. I am a mother trying to protect my child from people like you, gun wielding men."
The sergeant took the water from my mother and told her to get out of his sight. Another argument breaks out between the sergeant and the unwounded soldier. A moment later he returned to their bags and rummaged through it.
"How long are you planning on staying here, soldier? This is my home."
"I don't know ma'am, that's something you will need to ask the sarge."
My mother tried making more conversation with the American. He told her that they were lost and that after the soldier got hit, they saw the cabin and decided it would be best to use it as shelter for the night. The wounded soldier started to scream in pain.
"I need your help to shut him up, private!" shouted the sergeant.
The private sighed in disappointment and ran back to the room. The wounded soldier was kicking his unwounded leg while the sergeant tried cleaning his wound on his left leg.
"Hold him down while I clean the wound."
"Hey Herby, it's Jimmy. Its me, said the private You are safe now. Just hang on while sarge cleans your wound."
My mother walked back into the bedroom. She was holding a bottle of liquid.
"Perhaps this will help your friend. It is disinfectant," she said as she handed it to the sergeant.
He took it and started using it on the wound.
"What are you, a nurse or something?" asked the sergeant.
"No, only a school teacher."
"Only?" the sergeant grunted.
"Really sarge?" said Private Jimmy.
"Oh come on, these people only teach propaganda to their children in these schools. Speaking of children, where is that little runt anyway?"
"He is outside gathering fire wood," my mother said."
"Outside you say? Go check, private."
Private Jimmy stood up from the floor and headed into the living room. He froze.
"Sarge!' he said.
"What is it Jimmy?" he asked.
"The little fuck took the guns!" Jimmy shouted.
The sergeant ran out from the bedroom and stared at my mother.
"Lady, I'm not even going to count to three. Where are the..."
"I will not tolerate any weapons in my home. I told Fritz to bury them outside. You can have them back when you leave."
"In case you haven't noticed, there is a war on and your house is right in the middle of a battlefield. That makes this place a shelter for my men, a base of operation, a hospital, a barrack, a bunker and whatever the hell else I say it is.
"Jimmy, go out and find out where the runt buried our guns and bring them and him back to me. Beat the hell out of him if you have to. You understand?"
"Yes, sarge."
Private Jimmy ran out the front door in search of me and the weapons.
Through the cracks on the door of a small shed next to our cabin, I spot the soldier. He spotted the shed and was coming towards me. He started running. I grab two large pieces of firewood and make my way out the door. He almost ran into me. He stared at me. I knew what he was going to do to me.
"What's up, buddy? Getting more firewood? You're a good kid. Your mother should be proud of you. Now tell me where you put the guns," he said with a stern face, "You are an innocent young boy, and I kinda like you, so don't make me hurt you. We can stay friends if you tell me, or the sarge will kill you if I go back empty handed."
I remained silent and looked him dead in the eyes.
"Dammit kid, please tell me where the fucking guns are!"
I look in the direction of the guns. He follows my eyes.
"Thanks kid."
"We are not friends. We will never be friends," I spat out.
"We'll I'm sorry to hear that, kid. Why not then?"
'You are an American. You are an enemy of the Fatherland. You wish to destroy our country and kill all women and children."
"Don't believe everything the mad man tells you. He is everyone's enemy. He has no care for you or your mother. Now give me that so we can go back inside for warmth.
He took the two logs from my hands and we walked back towards the cabin. We heard the crack of a branch in the distance. His head swung back in the direction of the noise.
"Shit, get inside now," he told me as he pointed towards the shed. I ran back towards the shed, not knowing what he saw.
He grabbed an axe and signaled me to follow him. We slowly trudges through the snow towards the cabin.
"HALT!" he shouted as loud as he could, hoping the sergeant and my mother could hear him. Three men turn around, facing me and Jimmy. He held the axe as a gun to throw the three men off. They were German.
"Don't move!" he shouted again.
I could hear them speak in German to one another. I spot my mother walking out the cabin and gasped.
"He says put..."
"We understood him very clearly, woman," said the older German, "He is alone. Get ready to shoot, men."
"Nein! shouted my mother, "my son is out there! Please put your weapons down!"
"So, soldier, it seems you are holding a little boy hostage. How cowardly of you!" shouted the German.
"What do I care, he is a Kraut after all!" shouted Jimmy.
My head shot up. A gasp escapes my mouth.
NO! NEIN! STOP THIS! STOP THIS MADNESS!" screamed my mother at the top of her lungs.
"All right then, I will put my gun down, but you do the same!" shouted the German, " and you let the boy go."
The Germans lowered their hands and placed their weapons on the snowy ground. Jimmy moved towards them, grabbing their guns. As he did this, he threw the axe down for the Germans to see how he fooled them. The sergeant ran out the house and grabbed one of the three weapons. He shouted at them to get into the house and sit downs with their hands in the air. The three Germans oblige and enter the cabin. The older German gives a stern look at my mother as he passed her.
Before Jimmy and the sergeant could enter the house, my mother blocked the door.
"I said no guns in the house, sergeant."
"Are you fucking crazy, woman? Get out of the way, now!"
"No, put the guns down."
"I swear to God I will shoot you right in front of your son!"
"You might be dead if it was not for me. Now, put your guns down and come inside."
Jimmy agreed with my mother and put the gun down on the snow.
"If you want to enjoy the comfort of my home, you will do so on my conditions. Now put the guns down."
The sarge screams before speaking.
"No lets get something, straight," he said to the Germans staring out from inside the cabin, "this lady has offered us all shelter. For the night. Her only condition is that all weapons remain outside and consider this neutral territory. You ok with that?"
The Germans hesitated, but finally agreed to my mother's conditions. The sergeant places the gun down on the snow and my mother allows him to enter the house. My mother ordered me to come inside. She picked up the guns and gave them to me to hide them with the American guns.
"Good boy."
Once I closed the door after I buried the guns, I saw the German lieutenant and the American sergeant glare at each other with hatred.
"Well, Merry Christmas everyone," said Jimmy as he attempted to break the tension.
My mother smiled, even though I knew behind that smile was a huge amount of stress and fear.
"Since you are all guests in my home, let us start of by introducing ourselves. My name is Elizabeth Vincken and this is my son, Fritz.
There was a moment of silence as the soldiers didn't know what to do. It was finally broken by the American sergeant.
"My name is Sergeant Ralph Blank. Behind me is Private Jimmy Rassi."
The German lieutenant spoke next and introduced himself as Lieutenant Hans Klosterman. My men are Sergeant Marcus Mueller and Private Peter Heinrich."
Hans and Marcus spoke in German to one another. Only my mother and I could understand them. They were talking about us harbouring enemy soldiers and how this truce won't last long.
"I can assure you men that today you will behave like gentlemen and not soldiers. This is a safe haven for all. I must ask you that you all speak English to one another to avoid any confusion."
"Private Heinrich doesn't speak it, we will translate if he wishes to speak. He doesn't speak much.
"That's fine by me," said my mother.
There was a commotion in the bedroom. The soldier was awake and once again in pain. My mother explained the situation to the Germans and Hans nodded. She asked if they were willing to help him in any way they could. They agreed. While everyone went to the room, Jimmy, Peter and I stayed behind in the living room.
"Du kannst deine Tasche an die Wand stellen und hier sitzen," I said to Peter. He did as I told him.
"What did you say, kiddo?" asked Jimmy.
"I told him he could leave his bag against the wall and sit on that chair," I pointed towards the chair in front of the fire place.
My mother walked into the kitchen with Lieutenant Hans behind her. I could hear them talking.
"Frau Vincken, I see you have become friends with the enemy."
"I would have helped anyone that came to my door because that's who I am.
"On the contrary, that is treason and you know the price that is to be paid."
What I heard next was a very intense conversation, so I decided to back out of it and continue to sit with Jimmy and Peter.
"Why are we with the enemy?" asked Peter in German, "has the war ended?"
I looked at him. He looked just a few years older than me. He was just as innocent as me.
"My mother wants to help everyone. When their friend is treated, they will leave us."
I asked him how old he was and his answer shocked me; he was just 16 years old.
The racket from the bedroom became even more intense. The soldier was screaming in excruciating pain. Jimmy became jittery and Peter became scared. I swear I saw his eyes become watery. He was just as afraid as I was when the Americans barged into my home. The racket quickly died down.
"Why is your mother so adamant in helping the wounded American," asked Sergeant Marcus.
I gulp. I pull a picture of our family out from my coat.
"That is my older brother," I said as I pointed towards the tall brawny looking young man on the photo. He was 18 when he bled to death at Stalingrad. She knew her son would want her to help save another from the same fate as him."
I looked up. Everyone was in the living room and watched me talk about my brother. My mother had tears in her eyes because she knew I spoke nothing but the truth.
"The patient alright? asked Jimmy.
"He'll survive said Ralph.
A short time had passed since everyone entered the living room. Everyone was minding their own business until an argument broke out between Ralph and Hans. The two started arguing about the Battle of the Bulge, the German offensive that took place in Bastogne. My mother did her best to calm the men down.
"Tonight, on this holiest of nights, why don't we all just calm down, each take a deep breath, and decorate Fritz's Christmas tree
"Yes, lets do it. I think its common sense that just for tonight we can forget about the war and our differences and just celebrate Christmas together," said Jimmy.
Ralph and Hans agreed, although with very much disgust and shook hands.
"All right, while you boys decorate the tree with my son, I will prepare us something to eat. Fritz, before you start, could you go fetch me Hermann?"
"Yes, mama," I said and ran outside. Hermann was a plump rooster, named after Hermann Goering, Hitler' second in command for which my mother had absolutely no affection, that we had fattened up for Christmas dinner.
"I can only concoct up a chicken and potato soup, so hope you like those two ingredients together."
"Ma'am, why not let us help contribute some of our rations to the soup as payment for opening your home to us for the night. It's the least we could do."
"Ja," said Hans. That sounds like a marvelous idea."
While my mother was busy in the kitchen and Hans, Marcus, Jimmy and Ralph were busy rummaging through their bags in search of food, Peter and I were busy decorating the tree with some old decorations. After a few minutes, the men had put all their rations on the dining table. My mother stared at it in awe. On the table lay 16 slices of rye bread, 3 pieces of dratwurst, a jars of pickled onions, a packet of cookies, 3 cans of meat and baked beans, 3 packets of crackers and peanut butter and jam as well as pineapple pudding.
"Well, it looks like we will truly have a Christmas dinner tonight.
The men enter the kitchen with their rations, while Peter and I continue to decorate the tree.
"Did your parents support you going to war?" I asked him.
"Nein, they were killed before I was called," he said with a tear in his eyes.
"I'm...I'm sorry to hear that," I said. I only lost a brother, imagine losing both your parents in the war.
At least 2 hours had passed, Marcus and Ralph was setting the table, while mother was slowly bringing out the food and a jug of water. Soon, the tempting smell of roast chicken permeated our room Jimmy was looking at his watch when Hans asked whether he was late for something.
"Right about now, I would have been with my wife and our families enjoying a Christmas Eve meal, but you guys decided to invade Poland."
"Well, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. The threat of a Polish attack was real, so we did what we had to do."
The tension rose, but my mother knew it.
"Supper is served," she said. Everyone bring something to sit on."
The men grabbed any chair they could and placed it around the table and sat down.
"Now, before we begin I would like to say a short prayer. Lord, I give thanks to this food and we ask in his name to put an end to this war and to bring comfort and peace to all its many victims. Amen."
Once my mother finished, Jimmy, who was Catholic, made the sign of the cross and thanked my mother for the prayer. Everyone passed their bowls to my mother and she put a very unique spoon of soup in each bowl for everyone to enjoy.
Ralph grabbed his glass of water.
"To our hostess, Frau Vincken, who's stubborn and unique personality made this all possible. I wish nothing but peace and prosperity to her, Fritz and his father and may the son who gave his life for his country fly high. Cheers!"
Everyone joined in with their glasses and thanked my mother for letting them in her home.
"Now, lets dig in," she said.
"Merry Christmas, everyone!" shouted Fritz.
"Merry Christmas," replied the rest.
That is when it struck me the miracle my mother had performed. Somehow these soldiers weren't so fierce, they could have been family or even friends. It appeared as if my mother's wish was coming true. Its as if the end of the war was beginning right there, at the dinner table of Elizabeth Vincken. But it was only the beginning. I smiled and thanked God under my breath for this Christmas truce around the table. Christmas is the season of surprises and the evening sure had a few more surprises yet to come.
The sound of a spoon against a plate made it clear that everyone was finished eating. Everyone thanked my mother for the delicious and unique meal she had prepared for them. Everyone started chatting again with one another while we ate cookies and pineapple pudding, but Peter and I stood up from our chair and walked towards the Christmas tree. The Americans looked up, they heard words that they didn't recognize, but a tune that was unmistakable. The Americans joined in to the singing of one of the most famous songs in history.
Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht
All is calm, all is bright.
Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Sleep in heavenly peace
Silent night, holy night!
Hirten erst kundgemacht
Glories stream from heaven afar
Durch der Engel Halleluja,
Christ the Savior is born!
Christ, der Retter ist da!
Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Son of God love's pure light.
Lieb' aus deinem göttlichen Mund,
With dawn of redeeming grace,
Christ, in deiner Geburt!
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth
Everyone cheered as my mother burst into tears. She grabbed me and kissed me on the cheeks as a thank you. We started singing more Christmas songs, Oh Christmas Tree, Ring little bell and Come, All ye Shepherds. Everyone laughed and clearly enjoyed their time with each other, knowing that they will continue killing each other the next day. Ralph and Marcus leave the house together with cigars in their mouths. Jimmy stood up from the couch and spoke words I never thought I would ever hear.
"Don't you all think its time for gifts?"
"Gifts?" I said, "You have gifts?"
"Yes, kiddo. I'm Santa," he smiled.
He rummaged through his bag and handed Peter, Elizabeth and I a small package filled with chocolate. Everyone wished everyone a Merry Christmas again.
"Hey Fritz," said Jimmy, "You and I now friends?" he asked.
"Ja, friends forever."
"Forever is a long time, buddy."
"Ja, I know," I smiled.
"I guess its time for a little shut eye," said my mother.
Everyone agreed and she started making space for everyone in the bedroom and the living room.
"Thank you very much, everyone," she said
The sun rose above the canopies. The men stood outside with Fritz and Elizabeth standing at the door of the cabin. The wounded American was left in the bed until the Americans would take that part of the woods.
"Are you three sure you don't want to come with us? The war will be over soon. We don't want to kill you on the battlefield," said Ralph.
"Nein," said Hans.
My mother insisted that the Germans to with the Americans. Everyone knew the war was over, it was just a matter of a few months.
"Nein, I will not go with them. Its my duty to stay with the army and fight the war. But I will give you this compass to show yourself back to your lines. I might not want to go with you, and neither does Sergeant Marcus, but please take the kid with you. Peter is just a young boy, I don't think anyone wants to kill a boy."
Lieutenant Hans talked to Peter in German and told him that he was Ralph's prisoner from now on and he would do everything he said. The two leaders of the men shook hands and saluted one another. They hugged Fritz and Elizabeth before the Germans walked in the direction of their lines.
"Will I see you again," I asked Jimmy.
"Yes, when the war is over, come visit me in the States."
"Take care," I said.
"Take care, buddy" said Jimmy.
My mother and I looked at the German and Americans as they headed in separate directions. It truly was a Christmas miracle I will never forget. All because of one woman, a group of men came together as bitter enemies and parted as friends. Later that day an American patrol came by and took the wounded American with them. The war for us was finally over.
In the 1950's I immigrated to Honolulu, Hawaii and became an American citizen. I really wanted to find those 6 soldiers after the war, but it seemed impossible until an episode of Unsolved Mysteries told my story to the world. In 1995, a man called the program and told them that there was an American at the nursing home he was a volunteer at that spoke of the story in the episode long before it aired. The unsolved mystery had been solved. On 19 January 1996, I left Hawaii for Maryland and met Sergeant Ralph. We were joyfully reunited and he recognized me immediately. He told me that my mother saved his life and that he was still grateful for it. I met Jimmy not long after, but due to the high casualties at the end of the war for Germany, I never met one of the German soldiers as they had probably been killed in the defense of Berlin. I would have loved to meet Peter again, but never got to.
That night, my mother made the impossible possible. Even in the toughest of times, in the heat of war, and in the most dreadful occasions, there can be humanity.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4wa8noRemW
