Chemnitz contemporary witnesses: Gisela Wittenberg
I started school at Bernsdorf School - girls - in August 1944, when I was 5 years and 8 months old. Due to the constant bombing raids, the first school year was almost cancelled. As our flat was within easy reach of the school, I had to hurry home when the pre-alarm went off. Pupils who lived further away were allowed to go to the school basement. There were only 2 "old" men left in the house - my grandpa and the neighbour - otherwise only women and children. One boy was only born on 19 December 1944. From February 1945 onwards, our neighbours spent most of their time in the cellar. It was somewhat secured with thick logs. In a small room where the electrical fuse boxes were located, my grandad had built a wooden frame for me to sleep on. On the night of 5/6 March, there were 14 adults, 3 children and 1 infant in the cellar. They all sat bent over or lying on blankets in the cellar corridor, quietly talking or praying for the worst. When the cellar and courtyard doors were opened, the "Christmas trees" were clearly visible. I can't remember the details of the attack exactly. But when we thought it was over again and our house was still standing, we went back to our flat on the third floor and my mum saw a stick bomb lying on the floor of our living room, but it hadn't exploded. My grandad, who had been summoned, took it on a shovel and carefully carried it out into the street and laid it in the snow. The bomb could have fallen into the room as all the windows had no glazing. The burn mark can still be seen on the wooden floor today.
Our house opposite, Wittenberger Straße 1, burnt out, partly because there was no one left in the house to put out the fire. It was particularly hard for me to have to watch this because my best friend lived there. But she had also fled with her mum to relatives in Neukirchen. A family had a piano on the third floor and it fell from floor to floor with a few notes. A man had also died in this house the day before, but could not be picked up. He too was only found when the house was "rebuilt" and then buried. Our next but one house, No. 8, was also bombed and burnt out. My grandad and the caretaker of No. 6 went up to the roof several times to make sure that the flying sparks and heat didn't set No. 6 on fire.
When the terrible night was over, we looked terrible. There was no light and no water to clean us up. Thank God my grandad had a good friend. The Grafe family, who lived outside at 322 Zschopauer Straße. We went there with a handcart to wash and rest. There was plenty of water there, as there was a pond in this large property.
As a 6-year-old child, you can't remember many of the details. I wouldn't want to experience something like that again and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else.
This is where the contemporary witness lived her story:
Contemporary witness brochures
The eternal March
Memories of a childhood during the war
The last witnesses
When the old Chemnitz died in a hail of bombs