What’s Behind Coffin Number 3? Ch 6 pg 14

Some of the vandalism did fall to the local inhabitants. As a result of shortages on construction material they pilfered the metal fences and grave markers to use on their farms. Others stole anything that might be of value to sell – good granite and marble lay around for the taking. And then there were the actual graves, the bodies and what lay with them. Grave robbers looked for jewels, gold teeth, anything that maybe had a resale value. They dumped out the bodies and plundered the coffins. Maybe it is good that the forest now covers what once was the old cemetery of Gnieballen. Perhaps what remains now lies there in peace, reclaimed, never again to be disturbed.
These tactics of abolishing cemeteries not only served to destroy and cleanse the land of previous inhabitants, but it served as a warning to the current liberated citizens. The Soviets were know as atheists, but is it right to say that as a result this made them more brutal say than the Spanish Inquisition, or the Puritans burnings witches in Salem , Massachusetts? The degree of brutality or savagery is rather irrelevant. It does however seem a rather unique approach to ethnic cleansing by getting rid of those already dead. It perplexes me, this act of taking out vengeance on bodies long dead. More than anything it violates a long standing human taboo about corpses, for whatever reason.
Yet there is something that puzzles me yet, something relating to the current day. So many Germans go back, so many want to reclaim their land, so many have formed these pseudo political organizations to take back lost lands. Do none of them want to ‘rebury’ the dead? Is there no one to even gather the bones in an act of respect for ancestors, burying the past in a deeper sense?

Recycling Cemeteries Ch 6 pg 13

After October 1944 suddenly all these traditions, including old Baltic practices, were destroyed and the cemeteries vandalized. Perhaps more so than in other Soviet occupied areas, Klein Litauen presented an unusual combination of anti-German feeling, anti-Christian sentiment, and a need for revenge on both the part of the Lithuanians and the Russians. However the Lithuanians generally are Catholics, and it is the major religion of the country today. The cemeteries, full of all the heavy symbolism and taboos regarding death and desecration, resurrection, traditional burial practices, lure of riches beneath the ground, offered an opportunity to truly destroy the ancestors of the vanquished enemy. This is a familiar theme throughout history, something very primal to desecrate the dead, especially that of one’s enemies. And this they did.
In order to stop major flooding of the Memel River, the Soviet authorities needed to raise the damn at Kaukehmen. The material they used to do this was easily found in the big, still in use, cemeteries in Kaukehmen. An eyewitness recounts how everywhere there lay rotted body parts and at the damn were all sorts of other grave contents piled up and sticking out through the dirt.
The authorities also found plenty of other uses for the cemeteries. Road construction was another pressing need, which is what was done with the cemetery in Gruenheide. Problem was, when you drove along this street you could hear the wheels cracking the bones and in the ditches you could see human skulls lying about.

Where Did the Cemeteries Go? Ch 6 pg 12

Later when I was back in the U.S., I wondered why we couldn’t find even a trace of many of these old country cemeteries, especially as there was the big Catholic cemetery in the town. It was intact and still in use. Was it religion or revenge or a combination of the two that was the determining factor as to which cemetery survived?
Over the years there were rumors among displaced East Prussians on what happened to the old German cemeteries of their homeland. I thought about these rumors that claimed Lithuanians dug up cemeteries ravaging the corpses for jewels and gold fillings. Maybe there were some cases of this since the throughout history the poor pictured the ruling class with much more wealth than they had in reality. And of course they might well bury some of those valuable possessions with the dead. In the hard days after the war, I wouldn’t be surprised if some opportunists did resort to grave robbing due to the desperate circumstances they found themselves in. But I could never have imagined what actually happened in these cemeteries.
Doing some research on the internet I discovered a publication specifically about the cemeteries of East Prussia. I found it in the Annaberger Annalen, a yearbook of Lithuanian and German-Lithuania relationships. Martynas Purvinas writes in great detail about the destruction of the cemeteries in Memelland after 1944, using eyewitness accounts. This area is also known as Kleinlitauen or Preussiche-Litauen. He maintains that what is unique to this area is the evolution of a Baltic death cult interwoven with the Lutheran practices. Instead of one central cemetery, some cities had several cemeteries so that cemeteries could be located closer to the individual families and they could actively maintain the grave plots. Some of the families went so far as to keep burial sites in the courtyard of their house and that way kept ancestors a part of their daily lives. This didn’t seem to be the practice in the villages around my mother’s farm; one cemetery for each village was enough, unless someone was secretly burying people behind the barn, but it was hard to do anything in such tight village settings without all your neighbors knowing about it.

Cemetery Finds Ch 6/pg 4

“Oh my gosh,” my mother finally speaks. Now it all makes sense – the lumpy ground, the reason tractors plowed around the area, trees growing only at the far edge of this field. It is a burial ground and everyone knew it and avoided sacred soil.
After a moment of thinking about this, our dark sense of humor comes back.
“Mom, since Sabine didn’t want to come along on the trip, maybe we should take one back to her as a souvenir of her relatives.”
My mom replies quick as a flash – “No, this wasn’t our cemetery. We’re not related to them.”
We wondered about what happened to this burial ground. Maybe it was true that poor Lithuanians who heard stories of rich Germans being buried with gold dug up the bodies in the aftermath of the war. They were destitute. That seemed a likely explanation. Why else would anyone dig up a cemetery, desecrating the dead?
So where was our cemetery, that one that served the village of Gnieballen, where the Redetzki girls were born? That was the village the Brumpreisches were born and raised for at least 4 generations. Taking out my trusty 1938 German topographic map, I examine it minutely. With my glasses on and without, I can just make out a cross symbol located right on the map fold, of course. I really need a magnifying glass. It is somewhere in those woods located across the road. So it’s time for us to take another adventurous excursion into the countryside, although in this case it will be away from open fields and deep into the woods.
From my father I heard the story of the time when his own father died. It was a farm accident that killed George Klemm in November 1931. The body was, of course, laid out at home. In those times the family took care of the preparation and lying out of the body. They cut the fingernails and hair so he would be presentable and they dressed him.

Memel Due South Ch 3/pg 6

Algeridas asks where we will be staying in Silute, and whether there will be safe facilities for the car. I’m puzzled by such an unusual question. I tell him we reserved a bed and breakfast which is all I know at this time. He informs me that there is a problem keeping cars from being stolen, so he wants to make sure the car will be secured evenings. We wind up the paper work and he takes me to where he parked the car. At the end of our stay, I just park the car here on the street near the hotel and tell him the car’s location. Easy as that. The hotel doesn’t have a parking lot. Once we’re done with the car stuff we just check out of the hotel and hit the road!
I have all my maps at hand and it proves easy to find a way out of the city heading south. The industrial scenery of the city outskirts is all new construction. It is amazing at how fast change has taken place. There are a lot of American businesses: R.J. Reynolds, Kraft. They lost no time in establishing a presence in this market. Generally it all looks very clean and neat. It’s really reminiscent of traveling in Germany 30 years ago. People were very friendly back then too, back when the U.S. dollar was still a desirable currency and they pretended to like Americans. Although every time we toured any historic building the guides always made a point of telling how it was the Americans who bombed the place so heavily.
We travel through little cities and villages whose names bring back memories for Mom. It looks more like current day rural Germany than old Memelland. And we get closer to Heydekrug.

Car Rental Lithuanian Style Ch 3/pg 5

Oh now we are oh too full, but in a very promising mood about what this country holds for us. While waiting for my mother to come down and join me for breakfast, I went ahead and made arrangements for her to have a massage. I thought she’d enjoy that after her long flight. So she heads off for her massage and I head outside for a walk to get my preview of the county.
Early morning rush hour, people hustle along the streets. The location of the hotel is on a river or perhaps a canal, I can’t quite be certain which. The city feels vibrant and alive with activity. I know this is a port city but I can’t see any signs of a harbor even as I try to follow the river. And the weather is lovely. The site is in an area of north of the city center. My mother remembers a less built up area years ago. After about an hour walk I head back to the hotel.
Oh did she ever love her massage! This is a first ever massage ever for her. She got beat up real good by a genuine Russian trained masseur so by her standards that means it was excellent. It has to hurt to do you good. She’s already talking with excitement about another appointment when we return.
Now we meet with our rental car agent who is meeting us at the hotel. Algeridas, first name basis, is prompt and even speaks English! This is a real surprise to me. There hasn’t been that much time for the country to get English in the school since the border opened. In the past everyone had to learn Russian possibly English sometime later in their schooling. This young entrepreneur is 20-ish and already fluent in English. I found his agency on the internet and the prices were so much better than those of the American companies. So what if I’m driving a used Opal instead of a new Volkswagen. Anyway, I find it better not being too conspicuous as a foreigner. Forget that Mercedes!

Most Important Meal Ch 3/pg 4

Before we go to sleep we lay awake for a short time talking about our impressions so far. Mom realizes that this is not is the Lithuania she feared she would find. So far so good, and we are still in awe of the lovely Air Lithuania flight especially after the atrocious meal on Northwestern. Really seem food driven.
Morning comes! Breakfast! We are famished! Dressed and down to the main restaurant we go. There we find the large dining room set up for a buffet and full of – eh gads – Germans! It is a whole big tour group of them, so big it might be two groups actually. Okay, we’re now Americans for all practical purposes. Just like any large assembly of people, we want to stay clear of them. For that matter all groups exaggerate the worst qualities of any nationality when they congregate in large numbers. It seems so very odd being here in Lithuania and hearing all this German spoken. Somehow a bit out-of-place. I am in a non-German country and only hear German spoken.
We’re hungry so go check over the buffet before getting in line. What a lovely assortment. Hope we’re not drooling in anticipation. We’re just as happy as can be, especially if this is a sign of how things will be here. You may travel for the sights, but the food can make or break the trip. We just never really developed American taste buds. Unlike my travels through America, I have never lacked for good food in Europe. Wait, there was that one trip to Czechoslovakia – made the mistake of eating a sausage from an outdoor vendor. It was truly inedible; one chew brought to mind visions of Upton Sinclair’s infamous book about the meat packing industry. I spit out the awful gristle and threw the rest in the garbage bin. But that was just shortly after the fall. Western style competition had yet to take hold.

Hotel Lithuania Ch 3/pg 3

Check in is efficient and English is spoken! I find out where I can exchange money since I couldn’t do it before the trip. The currency, Litas, is not available outside the country. Just not a whole lot of demand for this money on the world currency markets let alone at my local bank. The rate is also fixed by the government making it not desirable for trade on exchange markets.
The lobby looks familiar just like so many other big hotels. Off to one side is a restaurant, a gift shop nearby and of course a postcard rack. I head over to take a quick assessment of significant sights in town. Looks like any middle European city, the usual old buildings and an occasional monument on the marketplace. Everything seems modern, clean, and nice. We realize how very tired we are, exhausted and ready for bed.
The porter takes us to our room, how nice, all of us with the two suitcases pressed into the tiny elevator. I read the signs for massage and sauna and advertisement pictures of lovely people enjoying a big classy restaurant. This is a really big hotel, but we are here for one night only. We’ll have another chance to explore before leaving the country when we stay here again in order to catch a very early morning flight home.
Our room is tiny! Décor is a sort of Scandinavian style. Let’s call it northern European modern. There is room for the two beds and a chair, us and that really big suitcase. It’s not as bad as the hotel I once stayed in London; there I nearly couldn’t move both me and my suitcase into the room at the same time. We do have a private bath which is always a nice perk. The hotel has obviously been remodeled not too long ago, but as long as Mom and I coordinate our movements, and don’t change course abruptly, we’re fine in the tight space. No need to unpack much as we won’t be here long.

Hitching a Ride Ch 3/pg 2

Our airplane crew assembles themselves on the sidewalk. A van pulls up and they get in. I ask if we can join them for the ride to Memel. During the ride we talk with our stewardess from the airplane who speaks some English. She wants to work on her English and I have a lot of questions. Outside is it really dark so I can’t see any of the countryside as we depart from the airport. I don’t see any hotels. This is so disorienting to arrive in the dark – but it heightens my anticipation for the next day. I peer out of the windows trying to catch some glimpse, a clue, wanting to get a sense of place. In the glow of the street lamps I at least can see store fronts, houses, shrubbery. Looks rather normal.
Our van pulls up in front of a store and some of the crew go in. Maybe they need to buy food before they go home after days of being gone. It is amazing that something is open at this hour. Even in Germany grocery stores don’t stay open this late. I peer out the van’s side window straining to look in the store; are the shelves full of merchandise, what kind of store is this? I need to get a feel for this country where I’ll be spending the next week to verify if this trip was a good decision or will it be a disaster.
My sense is that the people in the van, crew and driver, know each other well. There is camaraderie among them. I sense this even without speaking their language. There are so few flights at the airport, and even fewer out of the country. This is likely a routine this very crew has repeated many times.
Absolutely no traffic is on the road. It is a weeknight, but still seems awfully quiet. This is a two-lane road, no big highway to speed us through the countryside. Dark but not desolate by any means.
Crew members get dropped off along the way and then we arrive at the Hotel Klaipeda in downtown Memel (Klaipeda). It’s a big modern structure, at least 15 stories. Must have been the hotel of choice for the party faithful back in good old days.

Darkness in Palanga Ch 3/pg 1

We arrive in Palanga, Lithuania in the pitch dark of night. It is after ten pm. The plane is very small so there aren’t many passengers to handle. We still have to wait around in the very small terminal for officials. Finally here they come: customs, passport control and various uniformed personnel who just stand around. Did they have to wake them up, were they sleeping maybe? Or is this just a bureaucratic show of authority, you know, “let them wait”. I last experienced this attitude in the Bahamas upon landing at an airport on a remote out island. Thought it was just a Caribbean thing. Then there is the U.S. The officials all stand behind their official podiums, awaiting your arrival, ready to scrutinize you’re papers. Others intently stare at the crowd from the sidelines, scanning faces for guilty looks.
We could scarcely have surprised these Lithuanians officials with our plane – nothing is going on and planes don’t arrive without notice, so why aren’t they ready for us? The terminal is dark. Perhaps the lights don’t work. There are only a very few signs posted around the large hall. No bright commercial advertising typical of other airports. No travel posters, no resort or hotel ads.
Passport and customs procedures alone tell me that the days of Communist ways of doing things are long gone. It is all pretty easy to get done. Nothing spoken, no questions. Nobody slowly checking your identification details waiting for you to break a sweat, repeatedly glancing from your photo to your face, like in the good ole days when you endured examination in no man’s land. All while the German Sheppard’s patrolled. Now we just have to figure out how to get out of the airport and make the journey to our hotel in Memel city (Klaipeda). I forgot to plan for this little detail.