Memostory#1 - A Recruit's Christmas 1943
Zvonko Springer (zzspri@COSY.SBG.AC.AT)
Sat, 29 Mar 1997 11:01:05 +0100
Hello to all subscribers of MEMORIES!
That’s my first writing about one of my many life-stories. Up to now, I
have answered too many student’s questions already. However, it has been
Kees who initiated story-teller’s spark in me. Here is my first story:
*** A RECRUIT’S CHRISTMAS 1943 ***
by CROATIAN SOLDIER alias Zvonko of the Oak Hill (near Anif, Salzburg)
The morning of Christmas Day was gray and cold wind blew icicles over
wide drill grounds. A recruit at the ‘Jaeger Kaserne’(= Hunter’s barracks)
in Stockerau returned from the canteen with mugs of hot coffee for us. Four
of us have been waiting for a morning call to pass in each of the two large
stables soon. The replacement shift would arrive later at noon. We have
been on night duty in stables with some 60 horses there for training young
artillery officers.
Our group came here for training early November 1943 and our riding
training started only few weeks ago. Our group of twenty got orders for
stables’ night duty since then. It happened that each of us got his turn
at least once weekly. One could get such a command as ‘punishment’ at a
shorter interval too. As matter of bad luck I had spent my Christmas’ Eve
on night duty in a stable with 40 restless horses. Horses did not work hard
the past few days and the evening’s oats made them rather adventurous.
A stable had a central wide corridor divided in two sections by a main
passage. The later had large sliding doors at each side providing an access
wide enough to get through a pair of the biggest horses fully harnessed.
These heavy horses created so called ‘pole pair’ that was the first pair
of three pulling a howitzer canon or an ammunition carrier. At each of
corridor’s sides were 2 x 20 horse’s boxes and at far ends were chambers
for hay, straw and large boxes for oats. One kept there the various
harnesses, implements, cleaning tools and wheelbarrows too.
The straw chamber was best place to spend at night provided horses did
not make too many problems. Night watcher had to keep corridors clean of
any straw, dry with it an outflow of horse’s urine and to collect horse’s
‘apples’ during all times of night. The sergeant or officer in charge would
inspect stables mostly during night’s wee-hours. Being caught sleeping or
with spilled straw or ‘apples’ in the corridor would be reported immediately
which resulted repeating one or more of night watches.
The morning call passed without any particularities so we returned to
other stable’s chores. One had to replace straw, comb horses (a hard work,
believe we), sweep clean and dust off saddles, bridles and hanged harnesses.
The rest of Battery’s crew visited the Christmas sermon and returned about
an hour before the shift changing time. Suddenly, a comrade rushed into
stable shouting: "Christmas parcel had arrived for us. Merry Christmas --
Hurrah!" This was the best news since two months we had left our homes. We
got red parcel-stamps few weeks ago which we have sent home with letters.
We knew that every letter would be censored by a military agency and we
didn’t have any experience with his yet. We couldn’t know whether our
parcel-stamps arrived at home and how long it would take until a parcel
would arrive. Parcels’ arrival was the best news of Christmas Day 1943.
We run over wind swept drill grounds to the canteen for lunch after
our replacements arrived. Do eat first then go to next doing -- was one
of the axioms I learned during war times. We rushed back to our room
‘Stube 21’ because we didn’t have any other duties on that afternoon. My
parcel was waiting for me still unopened. We didn’t have any duties that
afternoon and comrades had opened their parcels already. The room was in
a real mess: paper everywhere, it smelled of home-made food mixed with
common soldiers’ ones including some strong drinks’ whiff too. I took my
parcel and noticed that the address wasn’t in my mother’s handwriting.
The parcel sent my aunt from Zagreb and it didn’t come from my parents
who lived in Osijek. Inside I found aunt’s short note wishing me all the
best and to enjoy the contents thoroughly. I wondered why there wasn’t
any parcel from home or at least a note from mother? I had sent parcel-
stamps with letters to home only and nothing to Zagreb. Why was this
parcel send from Zagreb? What’s going on or happened at home?
Of course I opened parcel carefully and investigated thoroughly its
contents before deciding where to start tasting those many goodies. There
were many cakes and pastries my mother used preparing for Christmas
including few of quince-cheese forms, some of smoked sausages, a bottle
of ‘slivovica’(home plum brandy) between woolen socks, etc. I recognized
so many things as my mother’s made (I did ‘stole’ many of these from
closed drawers sometimes assisted by father too). Even the packing could
be mother's. As first to taste I picked up that ‘little cock’ of formed
quince-cheese. Mother made it specially for me -- it was MY form and part
of my childhood for ever. Now, a question started bothering me and it would
for weeks -- why mother didn’t send this parcel?
Later that afternoon I wrote two letters. First was addressed to my
aunt acknowledging parcel’s receipt. I asked also in a most innocent way
how are her other sister's doing not mentioning mother at all. The second
one was for my parents in which I cautiously asked about their health and
mentioned aunt’s parcel receipt. Did they receive the parcel-stamp I have
sent to them? Why was that parcel send from Zagreb and not from Osijek?
Few weeks later I got mother’s reply informing me that she made that
parcel herself. Somebody took it to my aunt in Zagreb to make sure to
arrive for Christmas. Didn’t I recognize that quince-cheese ‘little cock’
she always kept for me for Christmas. I felt very ashamed because of my
misapprehension indeed. Mother told me few years later how she felt sorry
for me and saddened by my letter written on that Christmas Day of 1943.
******
End of Memostory#1