Five years - that's all we got. Sandra Borchert

       II

      In 1930 the world was still safe and sound. I was six years old, just starting elementary school. My father was an officer in the British Army and we lived on an army base in Surrey, a suburb of London. At that time there weren't a lot of children on that base, but those who were, were spoiled by their fathers. On the other hand we had to help our mothers with their daily chores. No traces of spoiling here. By day we had to help with the shopping and at night dad came home with new and exciting stories about the latest drill exercise or his newest assignments.

      I had a strict upbringing despite the love of my parents. Or maybe it was because they love me so much. Punctuality and dependability were very important to my mother and my father alike. And of course my general behavior among other people. My mother was a strict catholic and so she taught me the importance of helping other people and care for them. That is why we often offered help to young mothers which were overstrained with a newborn child while their men were on missions. It was great fun for me. I always wanted a younger sibling but it was not possible for my mother to conceive another child. But when I look at it in a different light, I had quite a lot brothers and sisters those days. Then the school-life began. My grades were good even though I was pretty lazy. Nevertheless I managed to pass my exams every time.

      My biggest problem was doing my homework. At school I was forced to pay attention, but at home I got lost in thought. My mind started to wander and in my daydreams I helped my father to fight all the evil in the world. I missed him very much. Everything was better when he was at home, even homework. He had the ability to explain everything to me in an easy way. Sometimes he went with me outside to show me how physics work. We threw little stones on a sandpile and returned a few days later to look if they turned up again. Or we went kiting and learned everything about aerodynamics. One day we even built a tin can telephone with my mother, to teach me about acoustics. My father was a fantastic teacher. He was a very handsome man, too.

      Every woman on the base envied my mother. He was 1.9 m tall, had thick brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes. And apart from that he was the nicest and most empathetic man I ever knew. I was so proud of being his daughter.

      So the years went by.

      It was time to leave the school and go out into the world. A career in the Royal Army was not possible for me at that time, but that was not what I wanted either way. I wanted to leave the base behind and see the world. Therefore I applied myself to study in Oxford. I was a talented writer and had no troubles learning foreign languages. But it was not easy to see the big wide world in those days. At the end of 1943 Germany tried to occupy London and the surrounding areas. My father was sent to Germany. At that time he was already gone for half a year. We did not hear very much of him and were deeply concerned. I often heard my mother cry in her sleep or calling out his name. So I decided to stay at home for one more year. It was a difficult time. We had to try to manage without father. It was particularly bad at night, during air raid alarms. We sat inside the bunker holding each other tightly. All women and children together. Those were strange days. At night we were scared and during the day we waited for a life-sign and tried to keep our houses clean. There was not anything else to do. Most of the children were sent to host parents in the north, so they would not have to suffer the worst of the war. The days went by one after the other and no news of father

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