In the evening-- it was already dark-- I made a phone call once again from the road to the local district leadership in Prussian Holland [a town], which at that time had to give permission for every train trip. I asked if I could buy a train ticket, since early the next morning at six I wanted to go to Königsberg*, to take care of some problems at Friedrichstein**, the second property I had to take care of. For several seconds the voice at the other end was silent, then I heard the words, "Ja, don't you even know that the entire district has to be evacuated before midnight?"
"I had no idea," I answered without surprise, and yet I was surprised. "Where are the Russians?"
"No idea," he answered.
"Ja, and how are we supposed to leave, and where are we supposed to go?"
The voice, which up till then had never tired of reaffirming that the officials would take care of everything, that there was no need for unrest, answered this question: "We don't care at all-- by land, by water or through the air...."
--Marion Hedda Ilse Dönhoff (1909-2002) was an East Prussian aristocrat of anti-Nazi sympathies. She had to flee the advancing, vengeful Russian army with millions of other German refugees in the middle of January, 1945, in subzero temperatures. Although, unlike many Prussians, she had known the moment would come, it came more suddenly than expected, and was announced in this manner. Up until the very day of departure, the Nazi authorities in beleaguered East Prussia had forbidden anyone, even children, to be sent west to safety. From Dönhoff's book Namen die Keiner Mehr Nennt [Names No Longer Named] (1961, 2004).
* Now Kaliningrad, Russia
** Now Kamenka, Russia
Gegen Abend, es war schon dunkel, rief ich von unterwegs noch einmal die Kreisleitung in Preußisch Holland an, die zu jener Zeit jede Eisenbahnfahrt genehmigen mußte. Ich bat darum, mir eine Fahrkarte auszustellen, da ich am nächsten Morgen früh um sechs Uhr nach Königsberg fahren wolle, um in Friedrichstein, dem zweiten Besitz, für den ich mit zu sorgen hatte, nach dem Rechten zu sehen. Sekundenlang schwieg die Stimme auf der anderen Seite, dann hörte ich die Worte: "Ja, wissen Sie denn gar nicht, daß der Kreis bis Mitternacht geräumt sein muß?"
"Keine Ahnung," antwortete ich ohne Überraschung und doch auch wieder überrascht, "wo sind denn die Russen?"
"Keine Ahnung," antwortete er.
"Ja, und auf welche Weise, und wohin sollen wir?"
Auf diese Frage antwortete die Stimme, die bisher nie müde geworden war zu beteuern, die Behörden sorgten für alles, es gäbe daher keine Grund zur Beunruhigung: "Das ist uns ganz egal, zu Lande, zu Wasser oder durch die Luft..."