The Sudeten German Otfrid Pustejovsky publishes stories of his mother 74 years after his expulsion.
In the cover story of the book, Maria Maria Pustejovsky writes about her first concert visit in Tegernsee.
Tegernsee -
The expellees from East Prussia, Silesia and the Sudetenland came to the Tegernsee valley like grasshoppers and occupied the vacant quarters in small pensions and private houses.
I say the ones that were still free - because the hotels and large pensions as well as the ducal palace housed the evacuated clinics and hospitals from Munich.
This is how the last transport from the “Kuhländchen”, as the former granary in the Sudetengau was called, arrived in the Miesbach district.
Our domicile was a once elegant pension
Our domicile was a once elegant pension.
We, my three children and I, were the last to leave the camp and had to make do with a room that was previously used as a reading room.
I lived with the three children with three windows next to the door to the garden, without running water.
Instead of a cupboard, we had a clothes rack, which I called a candelabra, as such a piece was called in Austria.
The children were amused by the expression.
We took our daily food from the nearby hotel kitchen and the human-friendly cook added a free portion when no one was at the counter.
Although we had brought over a few Reichsmarks, they were of no use to us because there was hardly anything to buy.
There was a small vegetable shop in the current waiting shelter for shipping at the town hall.
I saw a long line of people.
I couldn't see what there was, but I got in line too.
When I got to the front, I read on a blackboard: Fresh beetroot today.
How surprised I was to see beets.
The expression “beetroot” was alien to us, and the children laughed for a long time at this little episode.
Fruit and vegetables were a foreign word for us for years.
We could only enjoy the fragrant sea air and the beautiful area.
Fuel was in short supply
So we went for a lot of walks to keep the circulation going.
During a walk like this, I noticed a handwritten poster: In a private house they gave a chamber concert with a very moderate entrance fee.
But it was emphasized that every guest should bring two to three larger pieces of wood.
At that time, fuel was in short supply and could only be obtained in limited quantities from the municipal office on a purchase slip.
The forests around the valley were therefore cleanly plucked.
So every day I went for a walk in the mild autumn weather and kept reading the poster announcing the concert.
The only requirement to take part in this concert: three logs of wood!
This would have been an almost insoluble problem without my twelve year old boy.
Memories came back.
I had the last concert during a short vacation from the front of my husband.
Now, after a long time, I wanted to have the opportunity to recharge spiritually and emotionally.
Also interesting: Christmas after the war: This is how Maria Pustejovsky celebrated with her children
So I went, armed with three large pieces of wood, to the specified Adlerberg house.
In the small but exquisitely furnished hallway, three distinguished ladies received the guests, one already elderly and two somewhat younger - as I then found out, it was a mother with her two daughters who lived in this beautiful house.
All three women wore long robes - how long had I not seen such evening dresses?
Comfortable warmth enveloped me and I could hardly believe it.
In this salon, which soon filled with visitors, you felt as secure as in a family.
A harmonious togetherness, one smiled at each other as if among friends.
It seemed almost grotesque when ladies, wrapped in furs - treasures from good days - wrapped their parting of wood from the Heimatblatt, the Tegernseer Zeitung.
In addition to the local residents, doctors from the surrounding hospitals, editors of the local newspapers and art-hungry, music-loving people also came.
It was not just this first house concert in this hospitable house.
But the first visit left a lasting impression on me.
Many people who experienced these musical evenings at that time have moved away, died - but those who are still alive will certainly never forget this enjoyment of art, which brightened up the dreary times and awakened hope for a new fatherland.
Whenever I walk past the grave of the three ladies at the local cemetery, a “thank you” for the departed goes up.
Also read: “Three parts of wood”: 74 years after her expulsion from the Sudetenland, Otfrid Pustejovsky publishes his mother's memories