Singing is Verboten!!!

Guest Post by Nickelthrower

As a young man and fresh-faced soldier in the U.S. Army, I found myself stationed in W. Germany in a mid-sized town outside of Frankfurt. I couldn’t believe my luck as the kaserne I was stationed at was right in the middle of town and it was a very short stroll from my barracks to a postcard-perfect community that was inhabited by an abundance of young attractive women. I had no intention of spending my time in Germany celibate so I quickly learned every Germany corny pickup line in existence and used it upon any unsuspecting female until I acquired a girlfriend. Note: I had more rejections than a proselytizing Jehovah Witness but I was a soldier on a mission and times were certainly different.

Having finally acquired a German girlfriend, I found myself invited to Christmas Eve dinner in her parent’s apartment as the entire family lived in an old home divided into 3 separate apartments which were not at all uncommon. Before I describe to you what happened, I should take a moment to illuminate the cast of characters. Most of the information about these people are things I learned long after the event I’m about to describe.

Grandma – grandma was 95 years old and the house belonged to her. She was terribly senile and seemed to be stuck in the 1930s-1940s which is not a good time loop to be trapped in. During her productive years, she worked her tiny plot of land for all it was worth and sold the excess to support herself and her family. Her husband was forced to take work in building the Autobahns.

Uncle Hans – Uncle Hans was grandma’s oldest son. He fought in the war and was captured outside of Leningrad. He was a special guest of the USSR until he was repatriated to W. Germany in 1956. Whenever he opened his mouth screams came out.

Georg – my girlfriend’s father. Too young to have fought in the war, he witnessed multiple carpet-bombing events and the deaths of tens of thousands of people. Extreme lack of nutrition during the war stunted his growth. This man wasted nothing. One time I put out a bowl of milk for a stray cat and when he found the milk he yelled at me for wasting milk on a cat (even though it was my milk) and took the milk and drank it himself.

Ute – my girlfriend’s mother. Cowed and afraid of her own shadow, she seemed to be more of a scullery maid than a member of the household. Georg allowed her one haircut a year as well as one new dress.

Joachim – my girlfriend’s younger brother. He lived in his parent’s apartment and worked for the post office. He was more interested in cars than anything else and mostly kept to himself.

Christmas was a big event for the family. Georg would turn the heat up to a respectable 60 degrees and instead of just 2 dim bulbs in the chandelier, all 6 bulbs would burn bright and light the room. Not only that but Georg would retrieve an old radio from the basement and plug it in as well as this was the only time of the year that music was allowed in the apartment. For Christmas eve, Georg unrolled a small red carpet and put it at the entrance of his door.

The family took their places at the table which featured bone china that must have been in the family for 100 years. Once seated, each member of the family handed the others at the table an envelope that contained an identical amount of money with the result being that no one gained or lost anything. I give you 50 marks, you give me 50 marks. It was after this that things began to get weird.

Having the gift exchange out of the way, grandma said in a very soft voice, “Is Hitler dead?” Once informed that, indeed, Hitler was dead she began to sing in a loud clear voice. My German wasn’t the best but I recognized that she was singing a Christmas Carol. It didn’t stop with one song but grandma sang several in a row and given that no one at the table seems surprised by any of this I surmised that this was something that had happened before.

After dinner, I pulled my girlfriend to the side and asked her about what I had witnessed and she explained to me that the National Socialists had forbidden the singing of Christmas Carols and that her grandmother despised the National Socialists. I do not know if this was a religious issue, a regional diktat or if the authorities did not want people to gather together in super body-part spreader events due to carpet bombings. All I know is that grandma was afraid to sing until assured that the dictator was dead.

This event became legend within my family and to say “German Christmas” is code for I’m not getting you anything this year. That socialists could demand that you do not sing at a family event was seen as a one-off fluke of history. Clearly, something that we’d never see again. Well, at least not in our lifetimes. Yet, here we are. We’ve come full circle.

As an older and, hopefully, wiser man, I can see the damage – damage that infected three generations caused by the Socialists from so long ago. That old lady that was afraid to sing isn’t so funny anymore.

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