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16.07.2019 г.
 

Музыка и танцы

(Перевод статьи осуществляется в данное время) We really did not have a lot of things to do or places to go unless the carnival or a circus came to town. We didn't have television back in those days, and most households only owned a radio after the Volksempfaenger was introduced as a cheap radio most families could afford. Some families also owned a gramophone and generally only the parents were allowed to touch it. How valuable such a gramophone was is probably best illustrated in a story about my friend's grandmother. She was almost deaf at the time of this story and had to use a hearing aid that you had to scream into if you wanted to communicate with her. She had been left the gramophone by her dearly departed husband and took great care of it. It stood in her bedroom where nobody else, in her opinion, had any business. She kept the door locked and carried the key in the pocket of her apron. After lunch, she usually spent some time reading her Bible and then she sometimes fell asleep. This was the moment we waited for. One of us would carefully take the key out of her apron, unlock the door to her bedroom, and turn the handle on the gramophone. Immediately, a tenor's voice started to blare "Annemarie, Annemarie, komm doch mit in die Laubenkolonie. Meine kleine Taube, komm mit in die Laube! Annema-Annema- Annema-" At this place, the record was scratched, and it was also usually the time that my friend's grandmother stormed into the room, rolled her eyes at us, turned off the gramophone and pushed it out of the room. We would then go to my friend's upstairs room, and when we ran out of things to do, my friend would lean over the sink, form a funnel with her hands and started to sing loudly "Annemarie, Annemarie!" Shortly afterward we'd hear her grandmother rush to the bedroom downstairs thinking her gramophone was on again. Poor grandma, she kept falling for this prank time and again. When I was older, the BDM and Hitler Youth leaders in my town tried to organize a winter party. I have one of those meetings to thank for meeting my husband who was sent by his Hitler Youth unit to escort me to the practices because I was the only girl there. We practiced a classical piece for a concert, and when the violins in the upper rows whined, the flutists snickered, and the conductor looked angry. The local Bannfuehrer sat in the last row and watched our practice. After some time, the trumpet man pulled the u-shaped piece that collects spit from his trumpet and emptied it out behind himself - all over the Bannfuehrer! The actual concert was later cancelled due to the heavy bombing raids. I also took ballroom dance lessons. I had to wear my aunt's stockings and shoes for them because I did not own any proper dancing apparel myself. The stockings were a thick blend of silk and cotton, and while my aunt's shoes were very fashionable and pretty, they were too small for me. Because of the blackout regulations we weren't allowed to open the windows at dance school and the floor-to-ceiling mirrors constantly fogged up from the breath and sweat of 74 teenagers. It was so bad at times that puddles formed on the floor. The boys' clothing was almost beyond description, especially since this was in the third war year. My dance partner wore a jacket that he borrowed from a rather stout (and much shorter) family member, which was huge around his waist but the sleeves ended about two inches below his elbow. The way home from class was always a lot of fun. We would dance the new steps we just learned in the empty streets and places under the moonlit sky. Streetlights weren't on because of the constant air raids. I was a part of the very last class at the dance school and our final ball that was supposed to be held in spring of 1943 was cancelled due to the defeat at Stalingrad.