Arthur

By Bill Rhoads

When I first went to Germany in early 1956 at age 18, I was stationed with my unit, part of the Army’s 11th Airborne division at a kaserne (barracks) in Munich. The Germans were not always friendly to GIs, but I found that they tended to accept me, maybe because I looked like them, was interested in their culture and language and/or because of my music. They loved country music and yes, I was doing this crazy music stuff then too. “Fraulein, Fraulein, look up towards the heavens…”

Young and inquisitive, when I could, I’d talk to people about the history of WWII; how it came about, how it could happen, what it was like for them and how they were affected. That’s an interesting story in itself. Few people, predictably, talked freely about it. I think they were still in shock over the horrors of war. I found that some of the older folks (30 to 50) were more open about it than the young (20-30), maybe because the young didn’t understand and too were still in shock. It seems that way to me, looking back on it now and it had been only a little over a decade earlier that the war ended.

Anyway, one of the older Germans was our tailor who had a room in the same barracks as my unit. I’ll call him Arthur. Arthur had a damaged left leg and I honestly can’t remember if it was a war wound, some accident, polio or some other affliction that caused it. I feel bad that I can’t remember the cause but he had difficulty walking and used a cane. I became friends with Arthur and spent time with him when I had a chance during the course of my duties. My mother had taught me how to sew on a treadle sewing machine. Arthur found that interesting and always wanted to show me things about sewing and tailoring. I really wasn’t that interested but he was a friend so I’d try to listen and watch intently. He auch (also) taught me some German language phrases which I would then try out on other Germans I met. I’m sure we enjoyed each other’s company. We talked some about Hitler and the war, always skirting around the edge of the how and why and I didn’t push those questions. I liked this man and instinctively knew that I did not want to offend him. Sometimes I could sense that the conversation would seem uncomfortable to him.

One day in our splintered and scattered time together I summoned up the courage to ask him directly how the lead up to the war and the war itself could happen. He looked up from his sewing machine and I could see that tears had welled up in his eyes. He raised his hand and covered them. I saw a tear drop down on his bushy salt and peppered mustache. It seemed to glisten and linger there for a moment in the light. “Ve dint know” he said. “Ve dint understand. Ve vere chust svept along.” We never talked about it again and remained friends until I was reassigned to another unit about a year later.

The reason I think about Arthur is that I saw him as such a good, decent and ordinary man. He seemed so honest, direct and emotionally stable with a wonderful sense of humor. I really liked him. In truth, he could have been my uncle or my father or grandfather. I had no reason to doubt this good man or his sincerity. Yet this good man, along with hundreds of thousands of other good people, were “svept along” with the terror and horror of Hitler’s insanity that killed millions around the world.

The last time I was in Germany was with my band in 1976 (20 years after the first time). I was talking with an older gentleman (probably in his 60’s or 70’s at that time) in a gasthaus/hotel (tavern/hotel) that I frequented. He said to me about the war “Ve heard they vere killing chews, but ve could not believe it. No, ve said, this could not be!” Deception and distraction were used very efficiently by the Nazis. Many citizens had to have known but would not then or since admit it, maybe out of shame, self-preservation or the pain of facing it.

I recall these incidents now because I see the parallels between what happened in Germany leading up to WWII and what is going on in our country at this time; the deception, the violence, the division, the de-humanizing of those who disagree with us.

I am also reminded of the words of so many wise counselors and leaders: (paraphrased)

“Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.” Santayana/Churchill

“A house divided against itself cannot stand.” Christ/Lincoln

“The price of liberty is eternal vigilance.” Attributed to Jefferson

“All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.” Mercer

Evil is evil. Acceptance of evil promotes and multiplies it. Where in this critical time in our history do you fit in? God gave us a brain. He intends us to use it for good and not evil. He has also given us, through our founding fathers and our brave protectors of freedom, the most wonderful country in history. Let’s keep it and fix its many problems and work toward a more perfect union. I ask you to not be swept along in evil but stand for good.

Learn, live and teach “The Golden Rule”.