Chemnitz contemporary witnesses: Karlheinz Mauersberger

Towards the end of the war, this also came to Chemnitz in the form of air raids. We children didn't see this as a turning point in the war. The bombers were simply there, as if they were part of everyday life. Of course we didn't like it and we were scared. When the alarm went off, usually at night, we had to get dressed quickly and go down to the cellar. That was annoying. Probably more so for our mum, because she had to look after three children. The youngest was only three years old. Everyone had their own place in the cellar. Water was ready in containers. The cellar was full of people. There were five floors, including the ground floor. If we were in the cellar, we had to wait until the all-clear. The question was always: were they coming to us today or not? There were always radio reports about the flight situation. Based on these reports, we knew roughly where the aeroplanes were. As we lived on the ground floor, I stayed by the radio and listened to the announcements. After all, I was already 10 years old. I would then run down to the cellar and pass on these announcements. When it wasn't dangerous, we also watched the sky outside the cellar, by day and by night. We saw the bombers, saw the dropping of the "Christmas trees" as target markers for the following bombers. The city centre was most often hit by bombs. Silver threads also fell from the sky. After the all-clear, we children collected the shrapnel from the anti-aircraft guns and vied for the biggest pieces. We could hear the firing of the anti-aircraft guns.
But we children didn't go into the town to see where the bombs were hitting. None of us had that idea. It wasn't just air raids that reminded us that it was war. Towards the end of the war, more and more military transports passed our house. Loaded with cannons, tanks, vehicles and always waving soldiers.

Bernsdorferstraße was a long street. Compact rows of houses to the right and left. There were hardly any gaps between houses. The aeroplanes had largely left this street alone. Except for one bomb - which hit a house before 5 March 1945 - our cinema, the Edentheater Bernsdorferstraße 34! A single bomb! Our cinema of all places. We were good cinema-goers.

5 March 1945
One weekend, our mother wanted to take me (10 years old), Wolfgang (7 years old) and Dieter (3 years old) to Seiffen to visit a friend. I still remember how our mother asked a neighbour, Mrs Winkler, to buy bread rolls, milk and butter. I particularly liked fresh bread rolls and butter. The visit was like any other. Nothing special. But the return journey was different. On the way to Seiffen railway station, we first had to visit an air raid shelter (LSR). There were aeroplanes flying over Seiffen. On the way to the railway station, 3 km downhill, we saw a fiery red sky in the distance. Something must be burning. But we didn't realise then that Chemnitz was on fire. In Seiffen Dittersbach, we boarded the train coming from Neuhausen. The train braked at Flöha and came to a halt. We were under attack, we were told. Everyone out and spread out in the fields. Even mum and her three children. The train wasn't attacked, we got back on and continued our journey to Chemnitz. Or so we thought. It ended in Hilbersdorf. Chemnitz is on fire, everything is destroyed. Now what? Mum with three small, hungry and tired children. We wanted to go home, to Bernsdorferstraße 7. What was left for our mum? We continued on foot with prams. I assume we walked along Frankenberger Straße. I don't remember if it was called that back then. It was on fire. Everywhere. Heat, rubble and lots of people wandering around. I never thought about bread rolls and butter.

We got to the old St John's cemetery in the centre of the city unscathed. It was full of people. Everything around it was on fire. The industrial school was also on fire, but only the roof. My grandparents and my aunt (2 years older than me) lived at Theresienstraße 1, right next to St John's Cemetery. Their house was hit. They all managed to save themselves. She later told me about the burning industrial school. But with so many people, it was impossible to meet or find a specific person. The roof of the industrial school was extinguished the next day. This school still exists today.

Mum met acquaintances who told her that our house no longer existed. But everyone could have saved themselves. A small consolation. But still - we could have saved ourselves too. The many people were all homeless. So were we. We no longer had a home. We had to stop eating bread rolls and then go to sleep. We had nothing left. No money, no change of clothes, nothing. So what does a mother with three children do? It was at night. No place to stay. Not even tomorrow. Someone approached us near the castle pond and gave us a lift. We had a place to stay for one night. The three of us lay in a bed.

I don't remember exactly what happened next. Mum had heard that there was a gymnasium in Flöha that was a reception centre for homeless people. We probably travelled there by train and stayed in the gym for a few weeks. There was a gym mat for everyone. There were also blankets and food. As mum had a friend in Seiffen, it was only logical that we moved to Seiffen. If we had met our grandparents and my aunt, we would probably have moved with them to Thalheim to stay with Aunt Else and Uncle Herrmann.

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