Chemnitz contemporary witnesses: Helga Lehnert

My thoughts go back to the war years from around 1944. We lived almost in the centre of Chemnitz, on Feldstraße opposite the Zschopau hospital. At first, the war hardly affected us in a negative way. From time to time, our older siblings came home on leave and brought delicious things with them: Chocolate, butter, cigarettes etc. So did my brother Heinz. But there were also things whose meaning was still unclear to me, e.g. prisoners who were taken to work came every day. My mother told me that the landlord had once reported her because she had put pancakes on the ash buckets that were collected for them. But as we still had four children at home, no further action was taken.

Soon, however, the war came home to us. The air raid alarms became more frequent. We always had to get into the cellar as quickly as possible to be protected from bombing raids. This was not easy in our case, as our small houses had no cellars at all. So we ran out of the house, past the next one, turned left and walked about 100 metres to the so-called supply centre. A large building with a secure cellar. Soldiers and civilians went in and out of the centre. So it was a public building. On the way there, I had also made the acquaintance of low-flying aircraft. A man pulled me into the bushes by the wall and I think he even slapped me in the face out of excitement. Now the war was among us.

On the evening of 13 February, we all ran to Bernhardstraße on the hill, saw a red sky and everyone cried, because Dresden was burning. Over the next few days, refugees told us about the terrible inferno. The first signs of damage were also visible on the street, but then the first major attack also hit our neighbourhood. The Luther neighbourhood was reduced to rubble. But I remember rushing out along Zschopauer Straße with my mum, because my 16-year-old sister was doing her compulsory year on Wartburgstraße. There, the young girls had to help with the housework for the "fine" people, as we called them. The house was standing, what luck! The bombed-out neighbouring house gave us an idea of the dead. But the people were able to save themselves by breaking through a wall into the neighbouring house. Our school was closed due to its close proximity to the Südbahnhof railway station and we were taught in the Dittesschule, now part of the TU. But then it was also unusable because it was partially burnt out.

But the UNFORGETTABLE thing happened on 5 March 1945 during the major attack on Chemnitz. The first air raid alarm sounded at 2 pm. The cellar was fully occupied by visitors from the supply office. We no longer slept in our beds, but dressed on mattresses so that we could run straight to the cellar. My satchel contained information such as who I was and where I lived, as well as a cloth for my mouth with a bag attached, which we could put snow in if we had difficulty breathing. Luckily there was still snow on 5 March. I usually took my doll Inge with me. Our father was ill at our aunt's, so we, Mum (45), Anneliese (16), Margot (15), both next to Mum, me (8) in front of her and Gisela (4) on her lap, were hard at work in the cellar. We were in the large cellar in the next room. During the detonations, the door, locked with iron, burst open and all hell must have broken loose outside. Then our house was on fire too. We ran up the big staircase. My mum stepped on the children's blanket and fell down briefly. We were outside! But where to? There were bomb craters in the streets. I went the extra mile. Always very "independent", I followed a man into the cellar of a small house at no. 13. Huge flames were roaring towards us, and my mother excitedly called my name to get me down here immediately. We then climbed over a wooden wall in the direction of Johanneum, a retirement or nursing home, and then "came to rest" under the bridge on Bernhardstraße.

How headless you must be if you want to save yourself under a railway bridge! My sister Margot wept bitterly as she saw the flames bursting out of the windows of the nearby house. Her confirmation dress was hanging behind it at the dressmaker's. So, despite the great misfortune, everyone lost a piece of their own little happiness. In the morning we went back to our house. A stick bomb had flown down through our sofa and into a bed, which was also on fire. We took children's carts and handcarts with duvets and set off. When we arrived at our father's sister's house on Lohrstraße, the flat was completely overcrowded with people who no longer had a roof over their heads. But we still had our Aunt Hertha, who had her own little house in Furth in the middle of her market garden. It was always so nice there. Scharnelt" was also there. I still don't know what his real name was. He was a French prisoner of war and worked there. We often visited him in the greenhouse and he showed us a photo of his wife and child. So we were happy despite everything that was happening around us and ... we found a completely destroyed house.

And what happened next?

There was still the mother of our mum's first husband, Anneliese and Margot's father, who had died. So we bravely set off. The little girl is in the carriage. Sometimes I was also allowed on the handcart. From Wittgensdorf or Burgstätt there was to be a train, said a man on the way. Grandma lived in Geithain! It would have been a very long journey. You can imagine how much "joy" there was when 5 people were looking for accommodation in the small attic flat. I didn't care. Everything was relaxed, people didn't go straight to the cellar when the alarm went off, and the shopkeeper in the building gave me, the "refugee child", a bar of artificial honey. Imagine my happiness if I'm still enjoying that after 75 years. Somehow we had been told that we could return to our flat.

But when we arrived back in Chemnitz, the war wasn't over yet. Once again, we had to move into the partially damaged cellar, because the Americans and then the Russians moved in and shelled the city. It wasn't until 8 May that the end of the war was announced.

The first moments when we stepped outside were probably the most memorable for me. The Japanese cherries blossomed on Zschopauer Straße. Since then, they have become a symbol of goodness for me. And every spring, we and our grown-up children go to Lutherstrasse, where there are now many of these trees, and enjoy their splendour. A few years ago, our son, of course aware of my fondness and the story behind it, gave us such a tree for our own garden. Unfortunately, it has since died.

Dear children and grandchildren, dear young people, why am I writing all this down in such detail?

There is a cruel war going on in so many countries around the world. We see it on television every day. That should be enough for us to find war despicable. Many people flee and seek a life with better conditions here and all over the world. A life without war. But I think that you can better empathise with this concrete example if you say: NO WAR!

By the way, when there are several aeroplanes in the sky today, I go into the house. I'm still scared.

We, your parents and grandparents, we "old people" wish you health and a life in peace with all our hearts.

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