This letter was typed by a German soldier named Toni Zeus, who served with Stab Bau-Bataillon 135, the headquarters staff of a Wehrmacht construction battalion. These units typically worked behind the front lines, building and repairing roads, bridges, and other infrastructure needed for the fast moving campaign.
The letter was typed in Northern France on June 6th 1940, shortly after the German invasion of France during the final phase of the Battle of France.
The letter reads:
>“ Northern France, 6 June 1940
>Dear Thieme Family!
>Please accept my best regards, and thank you again for your kind letters and also for the excellent bratwurst. Yes, they certainly know how to make sausage in Saxony, and that’s why I was especially pleased. Lotte wrote that Mother Thieme wanted to prepare another one sometime. But I have to resist such excessive kindness; we’re living like kings here in France. So please don’t prepare a package. Besides, nothing is being shipped anyway. Since I’ve been frequently and happily enjoying the generous supply of red wine we’ve been given, I’ve had a good appetite lately and am making up for lost time. I had lost about 12 pounds in Euskirchen and was often quite stressed because of it.
>Our transfer happened overnight, as is typical in the military. I was in that Rhineland town for a total of eight weeks, and by the end, I had finally found some good hosts where I could find some companionship and conversation in the evenings after work. You can imagine how pleasant it is for a single person, as I was during the last two weeks there, to find someone to chat with in the evenings.
>I’ve been here for three days now. It was a fantastic journey, 17 hours through partly destroyed cities in Belgium, like Dinant and Philippeville, then on through France, where, strangely enough, the destruction wasn’t so bad. Of course, the houses on the main thoroughfares, where transports were destroyed by our Stukas, were affected, but in many of the towns we passed through, you could only tell there was a war going on by the many refugees and our soldiers. Just imagine, since I’ve been here, we haven’t seen a single enemy aircraft, not even at night. Instead, they cowardly fly over our undefended cities at night, and here we are in enemy territory.
>More anxiety about my family than about myself. Nothing can happen to us here anyway. We’re just rear-echelon heroes, 40 km behind the front lines. But the comrades in the companies have to work incredibly hard. The fast pace of modern warfare demands an enormously high level of effort.
We are told that some units have to load ammunition for up to 17 hours a day. We battalion men, on the other hand, are waging a great paper war, and I certainly can’t complain about a lack of work. In Streha, yes, those were good days, and that only happens once, it won’t come again. Many people have probably thought and written that already.
>I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that my leave, which I was so looking forward to, has been postponed. At least I can live in hope, and I will definitely come.
>Now Lotte will soon be home again, and her head will be heavy with all the things one has to know these days. I also have to hit the books again for my profession, but I’ve also realized that it’s difficult when you’re over 30. The mind is simply not as receptive anymore. Now I have to learn French vocabulary, and without practice, that’s quickly forgotten again.
>In the Rhineland, they say: You get as old as a cow and you’re still learning – Nice, the comparison with the cow! Isn’t it?
>Now I’ll end my letter for today and hope that we can remember each other in good and grateful friendship for a long time to come. I am truly happy to have found a girl in Lotte who brings me joy every day through our correspondence, and I don’t like to admit that this is unfortunately denied to me from other quarters. It’s the same old story of imperfections everywhere, and
I hope you understand me.
1 Comment
This letter was typed by a German soldier named Toni Zeus, who served with Stab Bau-Bataillon 135, the headquarters staff of a Wehrmacht construction battalion. These units typically worked behind the front lines, building and repairing roads, bridges, and other infrastructure needed for the fast moving campaign.
The letter was typed in Northern France on June 6th 1940, shortly after the German invasion of France during the final phase of the Battle of France.
The letter reads:
>“ Northern France, 6 June 1940
>Dear Thieme Family!
>Please accept my best regards, and thank you again for your kind letters and also for the excellent bratwurst. Yes, they certainly know how to make sausage in Saxony, and that’s why I was especially pleased. Lotte wrote that Mother Thieme wanted to prepare another one sometime. But I have to resist such excessive kindness; we’re living like kings here in France. So please don’t prepare a package. Besides, nothing is being shipped anyway. Since I’ve been frequently and happily enjoying the generous supply of red wine we’ve been given, I’ve had a good appetite lately and am making up for lost time. I had lost about 12 pounds in Euskirchen and was often quite stressed because of it.
>Our transfer happened overnight, as is typical in the military. I was in that Rhineland town for a total of eight weeks, and by the end, I had finally found some good hosts where I could find some companionship and conversation in the evenings after work. You can imagine how pleasant it is for a single person, as I was during the last two weeks there, to find someone to chat with in the evenings.
>I’ve been here for three days now. It was a fantastic journey, 17 hours through partly destroyed cities in Belgium, like Dinant and Philippeville, then on through France, where, strangely enough, the destruction wasn’t so bad. Of course, the houses on the main thoroughfares, where transports were destroyed by our Stukas, were affected, but in many of the towns we passed through, you could only tell there was a war going on by the many refugees and our soldiers. Just imagine, since I’ve been here, we haven’t seen a single enemy aircraft, not even at night. Instead, they cowardly fly over our undefended cities at night, and here we are in enemy territory.
>More anxiety about my family than about myself. Nothing can happen to us here anyway. We’re just rear-echelon heroes, 40 km behind the front lines. But the comrades in the companies have to work incredibly hard. The fast pace of modern warfare demands an enormously high level of effort.
We are told that some units have to load ammunition for up to 17 hours a day. We battalion men, on the other hand, are waging a great paper war, and I certainly can’t complain about a lack of work. In Streha, yes, those were good days, and that only happens once, it won’t come again. Many people have probably thought and written that already.
>I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that my leave, which I was so looking forward to, has been postponed. At least I can live in hope, and I will definitely come.
>Now Lotte will soon be home again, and her head will be heavy with all the things one has to know these days. I also have to hit the books again for my profession, but I’ve also realized that it’s difficult when you’re over 30. The mind is simply not as receptive anymore. Now I have to learn French vocabulary, and without practice, that’s quickly forgotten again.
>In the Rhineland, they say: You get as old as a cow and you’re still learning – Nice, the comparison with the cow! Isn’t it?
>Now I’ll end my letter for today and hope that we can remember each other in good and grateful friendship for a long time to come. I am truly happy to have found a girl in Lotte who brings me joy every day through our correspondence, and I don’t like to admit that this is unfortunately denied to me from other quarters. It’s the same old story of imperfections everywhere, and
I hope you understand me.
>T. Zeus.”