As a child during the war, I remember a wooden gas bus that took me as a "Kinderlandverschickter" from the farm to grammar school every Monday morning. I lived there in the town during the week, probably as the youngest room master. On Saturday afternoons, I drove back through Freiamt to my mother and brother in Ottoschwanden. When the war spread to the south, the grammar school was turned into a military hospital. We returned to Dortmund unscathed via detours. This was followed by periods of holding out in the bunker and major bombing until the Americans liberated us.
All in all, these were experiences that shaped my life and would remain a constant source of motivation. You should never give up: there is always a solution, there is always a way forward.
