Our mother was the daughter of a landowner and grew up on an very large estate in the state of Pomerania, surrounded by fields, forests, lakes and animals.  When we visited farms as children she was always nostalgic about the smell.  Her childhood was idyllic.  She was very close to her older sister, Barbara, and would tell stories of how they would avoid their governess and sneak out very early in the morning to take the pony and trap to the nearby village to play with the other children there.  The estate had its own tiny church and railway line so that she could travel by train to the village school.  When the war started it became unsafe for her and her siblings to travel to school because of the bombings so they were tutored at home.  Our grandfather hated the Nazis and the family were worried that there would be repercussions as he would refuse to do the 'Heil Hitler' salute.  This was a hard time as the estate was occupied by first the Cossacks and then the Russians.  Our grandmother and Mum's oldest sister had to live in the barn to avoid being raped and the family often went hungry.  When there were rumours that our grandfather, as an estate owner, would be transported to Siberia he escaped to the West to find work and accommodation for the family.  Our mother would tell us the story about how the family escaped over the border to the West in the Russian's lunch hour, just carrying what they could.  At the time our mother's youngest sisters were toddlers.  She said that her mother lost the instructions and they went back into the East by mistake.  They were then met by a shepherd who showed them the right way.  My mother was 8 at the time and was in charge of the potty which she left on the train as she was so excited to be reunited with her father.  In the West they lived as refugees and times were hard, as they were for so many at that time.

Sadly, my grandparents could never see their home again but my mother together with some of her sisters did go back a few times.  I was lucky enough to visit with her just a few years ago.  The house (or rather mansion) still stands but has suffered a lot of neglect as it was used for multi-occupancy during the Cold War.  However, she painted a picture of what it was like before, showing us the Entrance Hall where the enormous Christmas tree would stand with deerheads looking down from the walls.  Then there was a large room where the pillars still stood which was used when they had dances.  We are still in contact with the family who are now running a farm there again and some of my cousins go there for regular holidays where the children go for pony rides just as my mother did.