Magda Dresen
As an 8 year-old she made the acquaintance of German soldiers who were billeted in her parents' house. Magda Dresen also describes her first encounters with US paratroopers who had landed on drop zone “W” at Flüren on March 24th, 1945.
Magda Dresen, born 1937, grew up near Wesel and remembers how war came to the village of Flüren in 1945.
on the day Magda had her First Communion.
I was eight years old in March 1945. At that time, we lived on the outskirts of Flüren, very close to Reichsstraße 8 and the inn called „Zur Post“. At Flürener Weg, my parents, Maria and Heinrich Pumpe, ran a village shop – from spirits to baby bottles, from groceries to preserving jars, we had pretty much everything. Our house was located on a slightly higher elevation, and from there we had a good view over the entire „Weseler Aue“ meadows all the way to the Wesel railway bridge. That was also the reason why the Wehrmacht had set up an artillery observation post under the roof of our house. Up there, sandbags were stacked under the roof tiles, and from that position the observers kept an eye on Allied movements on the other side of the Rhine. Nine German soldiers were billeted with us. For us, the billeting meant that we now lived entirely in the basement – three women with a total of four children. My father was a soldier on the Eastern Front. For me as a child, being with the soldiers did have one advantage: artillery observers need coloured crayons to record information about targets and distances on their maps and documents, and they gave me some of these crayons, which had become increasingly rare for us children during the war. These soldiers were apparently well-informed, because one day they told us that the Wehrmacht was going to blow up the Wesel railway bridge. One of them took me by the hand and walked with me to the meadow behind our house. This way, I could witness the demolition and observe how the bridge collapsed halfway over the river. Today I know that this blasting operation took place on March 10th, 1945 – and that on that day, the Wehrmacht finally withdrew to the right bank of the Rhine.
Almost two weeks later, the Allied attack across the Rhine began. On March 23rd, heavy artillery fire set in, which we survived by waiting it out in the basement. The soldiers had warned my mother before it all started: "Frau Pumpe, you have to get out of here. There is an artillery observation post here, and the guys on the other side know that too!" But our house survived the shelling unscathed. The nine soldiers were with us in the basement during the shelling. Later, another one arrived; the front part of his foot had been shot off – his foot was still in his shoe, blood was gushing out, and he was groaning. That night, my mother did something I can still see today: We had a framed picture of Hitler that had to be put in the shop window for "The Führer's Birthday" – I can still see her throwing the picture on the floor, stamping on it so that the frame broke, then taking out the Hitler photo. Our stove was also in the basement, and she threw the picture into the open fire. The next morning, she gave us children white handkerchiefs and stuck white pillows hanging from broomsticks out the window. She was a simple woman, but in this situation she knew what to do and showed how smart she was!
That morning, Saturday, March 24th, many aircraft appeared, from which American paratroopers jumped to land in Flüren. Down in the basement, one of the soldiers still wanted to put up some resistance. We knew the men by then and knew that this soldier was Austrian. As he was already pointing his rifle out of a basement window, my mother grabbed him by his uniform jacket and shouted: "Hans, don't shoot! Hans, don't shoot!" It turned out well; he didn't fire. A little later, however, the Americans fired into the basement entrance, and then our soldiers walked out with their hands raised. We women and children followed them with our white handkerchiefs. I still remember that the Americans I saw there for the first time had nets on their helmets, with a first-aid kit attached to the front.
We were standing behind a corner of our house - the captured soldiers already lying on the ground – when we were shot at from a farm situated beyond today's B8 highway. When I saw the Americans with their submachine guns in this situation, I was so frightened that I cried out, "Mother, Mother, we're all going to die!" But things turned out well for us again. That morning, we also saw more planes approaching; they were pulling gliders that were released over our area and probably landed in the Blumenkamp area. You could even see the pilots in the cockpits!
Shortly afterward, we had to leave our house. We were led to the other end of Flüren, to a farmhouse located next to the Flüren cemetery. On the way, I saw soldiers hanging in their parachutes in the trees. At the Schürmann farm, we were given shelter in an open barn, with straw on the ground to rest rest on. I had a fever, so a teacher who spoke English asked the Americans for help. They took me to a first-aid station in the next house. There, for the first time, I realized that you can also measure your temperature with a thermometer by putting it in your mouth! After having my temperature taken, I was given a small pill – and chocolate. The American soldiers were so kind to me! We were able to return to our house that same day – it was largely undamaged, but the groceries had been stolen from our shop. And the Americans had shot through every bed, presumably to check if anyone was hiding under it. Of course, we continued to use the bed linen. It was the beginning of a time of hardship.
(Recorded in 2020 by Alexander Berkel and first published in „Reeser Geschichtsfreund No. 16/2023“, p. 54-57)