A little late but this is the article I wrote for Rememberance Day. It's about my Oma and Opa.
Life in War
Helene Rempel was only 14 years old when she had to run from the Second World War. The year was 1943. American troops began to take control of Russia from the German army. Helene Rempel’s Mennonite village was no longer welcome to stay in the only place she had ever called home. “We had to travel with horses and wagons,” she said, “we rested only once before we got to Poland.”
It was here that the German army took a piece of her she will never forget. “They took everyone 16 years and older. There was no, no, they would have shot you down. They took my brother and father.”
She pauses, the pain clearly just as fresh as it was so many years ago, “my father never came back.”
Helene’s family made their way to Hatendorf Germany to escape the violence that was edging ever closer. They were living and working on a farm when the war finally caught up with them. “It was a Sunday afternoon and we were between Americans and Germans. All of a sudden they started shooting,” she said.
Helene’s family as well as the farmer’s took refuge in the basement of the farmhouse but they were not safe there for long. “We looked up and we saw that the attic was burning, we ran across the street to a bush, there were bullets flying like crazy, we were all running,” she remembers.
By some miracle, nobody was hurt, “we stayed there overnight in the bush, and in the morning it was over. Everything burnt down so we had nothing, just the clothes we were wearing.”
When the war ended in 1945 Helene and her family were living in Holland. Unfortunately Holland did not have room to accommodate all the people that had sought safety there during the war so once again it was time to move.
Helene along with thousands of others travelled on the TSS Volendam to Paraguay. She and her family were eager to start a new life but what they found was far from life. “The land there was like, well, it was, a jungle. There were trees everywhere and bush. It was heavy working,”
For eleven years she survived there fighting the blistering heat and unrelenting mosquitoes. Although Helene’s brother survived the war, it was the jungle that took his life when he drowned trying to escape the heat after a long day of work.
It was also in this harsh place that Helene fell in love. “We just kept running into each other, he lived only two huts down.” Franz too had lost his father to the war. He as well as Helene’s father had received a letter to report for duty. When he refused to fight for the Nazis he was taken to edge of the village and shot in the head.
Franz and Helene were married by a minister in their village. They had their first child, a boy named Frank, in the jungles of Paraguay. The legs of his straw crib sat in a basin of water to keep the rattle snakes and tarantulas at bay.
After they had their son they knew they couldn’t stay. They waited for the day when a family member managed to immigrate to Canada and sponsor them. “We run from there again, we couldn’t stand it anymore,” Helene said shaking her head.
They came to Winnipeg in November and one week later it snowed. “Christmas Frank got quite a few toys,” she said laughing “you should have seen him, he never seen toys.”
Today Helene feels for the people who are still being affected by war in countries like Afghanistan, she is grateful everyday for the simple life that she leads here in Canada. “It’s terrible, those poor people, it must be terrible there, I’m so glad we are here,” she said.