Surviving the Coldest Winter
Berlin, Age Twelve
The winter of 1946 and 1947 will remain in our memory forever. Not only was it the coldest winter so far this century, but it was so much worse because of circumstances. Most people's apartments had a number of broken windows. Glass was not available. We had repaired our windows with cardboard, wood, or rags to keep the wind, rain and some of the cold out. With none of the materials available we had to make do with whatever we had among our belongings. Wood panels could be taken out of certain pieces of furniture, such as a back wall out of a china cabinet or a wardrobe. While none of the substitutes insulated as well as glass, we were grateful for the protection we did have.
During that winter the temperatures went down to minus twenty degrees Fahrenheit, and most people did not have enough warm clothes to wear. Whatever coal had been rationed to us was needed for cooking. Our kitchen was almost warm because of what little cooking we could do, and the unusual fact that most of the glass had remained in the kitchen window. By wearing our winter coats we could be reasonably comfortable in the kitchen. In the bedroom it was nearly as cold as it was outside. Our coats were taken off only when we went to bed at night. We were fortunate in that we had not lost our featherbeds during the war. Not all people were so lucky to still own this lifesaver.
Featherbeds were priceless possessions which, especially during Germany's countless decades of war and oppression, were items that had been handed down from generation to generation.
Schools were open, but not for classes. There was not enough coal for central heating systems. It was a definite plus to live in the old apartment building in which Grandma lived. These apartments still had the old style ceramic tiled stoves which reached nearly up to the ceiling and were fired with coal. Each room had its own source of heat, and as far back as I can remember only one room in each apartment would be heated because of limited coal supplies. Usually it was the kitchen because of cooking. Once coal became rationed, tenants of the newer buildings which had central heating systems, either from within the building or from a distant power station, had to find a way to heat a room independently, such as an iron stove.
I was one of the very few children who owned a warm winter coat. It had been a little fur coat when I was six years old. My great-grandmother, then in her mid-nineties, had given Mom her foal jacket and told her to make a coat for me out of it. Mom did this at the time, but as I grew and the coat got too small, she combined the original fur part of the coat with plush velour. Over the years she kept enlarging it with miscellaneous real or fake scraps of fur. This winter saw the coat's third major remodeling, when some other artificial fur-type material was added. Her creations were unique and attracted attention, which I did not like. However, I had the warmest coat in school and even a matching hat, as well as a muff to keep my hands warm. The muff was the envy of all, adults and children alike. Women stopped me on the street to admire it.