WELCOME
To
Sig Illing Dot Com
There is an ancient river called the
"ILL"
Illingen is a town in Baden-Württemberg,
Germany. With a
population of about 10,000, it is 27 kilometers to the west of Stuttgart, the
capital of Baden-Württemberg. ) It is thought to have originated, because the
settlement was founded by people who came from the river 'ILL'. The area around the small town is
famous for its vineyards and picturesque landscape. The most important site in Illingen is the church, dating from the
14th century and the inner town with its restored old houses and buildings.
I will soon have some detailed genealogy about the
Illing’s on this site along with some history and pictures of the last 60
years. Please feel free to send me an email if you have comments on additional
information I might be able to use.
The following Information is taken from many letters I
received from my Uncle Walter K. Illing and my Father Siegfried W. Illing
LETTERS
FROM SIEGFRIED W. ILLING TO SIG A. ILLING
Dear Sig:
Just a couple of details I forgot to include about my mother
and father, Paul Illing and Marie Illing:
Marie Modryejewski was of Polish
Nobility parents and was more or less disowned because she married Paul
Illing. He was a baker by trade so they
opened and operated a bakery shop until his death in 1916. We lived above the bakery until I was taken
care of by my grandparents.
May 1920, Alfred Illing with his wife, Gertrude, brought
Walter and Siegfried to the United States.
Arno Illing followed a few weeks later and lived with us in Beaver
Falls, Pennsylvania. We embarked form
Copenhagen, Denmark on the S.S. Stockholm, which years later was the ship that
collided with and sank the Italian ship "Andrea Dora" (not sure the
spelling is correct.). It was a very
rough crossing - most passengers kept to their cabins except me - as the ship
rolled from side to side, I would slide from the cabin side of the ship to the
railing; and then back again across the deck to the cabin side. It's a wonder I didn't go overboard because
each time I would grab hold of the railing to keep from going over. We arrived in New York and went through the
normal immigration procedures through Ellis Island. Life in Beaver Falls was nothing unusual. We built a home in Patterson Heights which
was years ahead of its time in design and quality. The first refrigerator in the country,
clothes chutes from each bedroom to the basement laundry, incinerator to burn
all trash and garbage, gas heated hot water radiators for heating the house,
luxuries way ahead of the time. Recently
we visited the area and found the home in perfect condition after 60-some
years. I attended school with the father of Tom Wyscoff
(again, I'm not sure of my spelling) the famous golf professional.
In 1927, we moved to
Mount Vernon, New York, in Westchester County.
During the drive across Pennsylvania, Charles Lindberg flew his
"Spirit of St. Louis" overhead on his way west after having been the
first to fly the Atlantic to Paris. Of
course we stopped the car and waved, and since he was so low, we imagined he waved
back to us. It took 3 full days to drive
across the state in our 1926 model Dodge since the roads were single lane in
those days. Would you believe that I was
soprano in the boys’ choir at the church of Ascension which was located across
the street from the home of Eddie Cantor (famous singing comedian with Ziegfeld
Follies). Too,
we lived only 2 or 3 blocks from Jack Warner's estate who
use to watch us play sandlot baseball by his home. (He was owner of Warner Bros. studios in
Hollywood). Art Carney attended high
school with me (he was a freshman during my senior year and always attended our
football games). He was just another
student then and we never dreamed he'd become so famous. Dick Clark also graduated from Mount Vernon
High School, but several years later.
Frank Carideo used to help coach us in the backfield. He was the All-American quarterback at Notre
Dame in 1930-1931 (Knute Rocknes’ last
quarterback). The 7 years of my life
spent in Mount Vernon were the happiest year before marriage. The 1929 stock market crash changed our
entire life! Alfred lost his fortune
(about a million, which was wealth in those days). We lost our home, his wife Gertrude had an
almost fatal car accident from which she never fully recovered. Walter left home at this time, only 17 years
of age and never did return except for one visit in 1935. I finished school and
made one of my biggest mistakes not accepting an appointment to West
Point. For about a year, I "bummed"
around the country doing odd jobs everywhere.
In 1934, Frank Carideo became head football coach at the University of
Missouri. I had played in high school
with his brother so several of us from Mount Vernon got scholarships. He flopped as a coach which ended our
tuition, so I transferred to Ohio State on a scholarship arranged by Addis
Hull. (Hull Pottery owner then)
Here was another stupid mistake - I quit because my
engineering course studies, football practice, and working for my out-of‑
state fee, was more than I thought I could handle. My brother Walter came home at this time for
a visit, so he and I opened a Pottery Stand in Bexley, Ohio. We did very well and had plans of opening
franchise stands throughout Ohio and New York, but a strike throughout the
Pottery Industry put us out of business since we couldn't purchase our
products. This period was during the
great depression, so once again, I "bummed" around. In 1937, I met your mother in Zanesville and
through M.A. Schweiker went to work for Shawnee
Pottery which he had just organized. In
1938, we married, had three sons during the period from 1939 to 1951. In 1943, Uncle Sam called me up to serve
during WWII. I served for 27 months - 21
of those months in France. Upon my
return to civilian life, returned to Shawnee until its closing. You and I
operated the Gulf station on Maple Avenue from 1959‑ 1962. In 1963, your mother and I and Bill moved to
Jackson, Tennessee, where I had joined American Olean Tile Company to build
their new plant. I stayed on until my
retirement in 1979, locating in Englewood, Florida. During this period of years in Jackson, we
saw the civil rights movements that occurred in the South. Campus uprisings including
the burning of buildings at Lane College, an all-negro college of
"Roots" fame. Several civil rights riots in Nashville and Memphis. The night Bill totaled my Pontiac was the
night Martin Luther King was assassinated in Memphis.
Alfred relocated from Mount Vernon to Lansdale,
Pennsylvania, in 1935 after a short period with the N.R.A. in Zanesville, Ohio.
He worked for American Olean Tile there until his retirement in 1949. He died in Philadelphia in 1951.
Walter traveled throughout the United States after leaving
home in 1930, finally settling in the Los Angeles area. He had many interesting experiences during
his travels which he will no doubt write you about. He served as a Captain with Patton's Third
Army during WWII.
Arno was in the Tile manufacturing business all this time in
this country. Mostly
with Cambridge Tile Company in Cincinnati as a Ceramic Engineer. In 1963, he retired spending the winter
months in Florida until his death in 1969.
Sig, what else can I write about? You know the history of yourself, Jim, and
Bill. I know nothing of my other uncles
lives in Germany. I would suggest
however that you write my cousin Guenther in Bremen, Germany, by getting his
address from Evelyn. I'll do it for you if you wish. How are your
coming with information from any others?
If there is anything more I can do, let me know.
All our love,
Dad
My memory goes back only to the short period of time that I
spent with my mother and grandparents in Germany between 1914 and 1920. My father
was killed you know in 1916 on the Russian front. Since my mother could not
afford to raise my brothers and me, I lived with my grandmother and grandfather
(Adolf and Clara) from 1916 to 1920 at which time I came to America. I recall how fortunate I thought I was
because grandma served me oatmeal with goat's milk each morning for
breakfast. Remember, we practically
starved after my father's death since a revolution took place in Germany
directly after the end of the war by the returning defeated German
soldiers. Too, my grandparents lived by
a railroad crossing in a little village, by the way, called Lichenstein-Callnburg
- in the Saxony district of what is not East Germany. The keeper of the gates at the railroad
crossing would give me raw turnips which too were SO GOOD to a hungry
child. In other words, my earliest
recollections are of food - maybe that's why I still crave it!
Another interesting part of this period was the manner in
which I was punished when needed - which I am told was often. They raised goats so whenever I misbehaved,
into the goat pen I went. They scared me to death at that age so just to
threaten a goat pen visit, shaped me up fast!
My grandfather walked 10 miles daily since he was retired and wanted to
keep in good shape. I used to love going
with him part way through the beautiful countryside and famous woods of Saxony.
I remember
nothing of my father, but do recall my mother sending me "beer soup"
which was like our vegetable soup except made with beer since water and meat
broths could not be had. It was during
these errands that I would visit the soldiers behind barricades to again beg
for scraps of food. Many times bullets
ricocheting off of the building I huddled against. How I survived this period is still a mystery!
Sunday, March 16
Dear Sig:
Okay, here's a little more TRIVIA for what it's worth!
I really never thought much about it, but you brought up a
point in your last letter to me that has had me thinking about it ever since -
namely "How did I feel about my part in WWII against the country of my
birth?" Especially since my older
brother was killed on the Russian front the very year I was drafted. Well, I was bitter - and felt I was drafted
only because my birth was the country of the enemy. Remember, Wally and I were
never legally adopted by our uncle because he thought we would one day want to
return to Germany. Now, unknown to us,
we were enemy aliens! Well, you can imagine my feelings when the FBI began
investigating the false, hysterical accusation made against me by some of our
good neighbors! I was supposed to be
sending information direct to Hitler himself!
Can you imagine such stupid war hysteria. About this time, I was also approached by the
German Consul to return to the "Fatherland" and fight for the glory
of the "Third Reich". Because
I reported this to the FBI and M. Schweikers
influence with the governor of Ohio, I obtained my citizenship. Remember, no naturalization papers were being
issued at this time to enemy aliens - so this infuriated the local draft board
and they called me up immediately. Now I
really felt sorry for myself and my thoughts went back to the first days of my
arrival in this country. How, as a
5-year old, I was being persecuted for the fact that I came from the land of
the "Hun". All of the
"Kaisers" acts were my fault!
Kids would tie me to trees and then stone me until Wally or Alfred would
rescue me. I know now that this was the
period my defensive and belligerent attitude toward mankind was developed. All my life I found it hard to get along
because of the slightest incident that might occur. I lacked diplomacy - tact - ready to argue or
fight at all times. This feeling came again
to the surface when we moved to Tennessee.
As "Yankees", we were treated worse than their treatment of
the black. "Sherman's March Through Georgia" was my fault, and the fact that we
came from north of the Mason‑ Dixon line meant the "devil" was
in us! Can you see now why I should have
resented fighting for this country - but I didn't - I was thankful really for
having had the opportunities that I would never had received in Europe. After all, I was raised like any other
American youth in spite of the aforementioned incidents, so my true thoughts
were all American. I hated before
drafted, but after having gone through the war, I wouldn't have missed it!
Hope this is the kind of stuff you want - as I think of
more, will send it on.
Sig, be sure to send us your new address and phone number (should
it change) and too, I want to mention how glad I am that you are having this
correspondence with Wally. I still wish
you would get closer to your brothers.
All our love,
Dad
LETTERS
FROM WALTER K. ILLING TO SIG A. ILLING
February 1, 1986
Dear Sig,
I will not try to write everything in one letter, but will
send it to you a little bit at a time.
I am using notebook pages so that you can file it in a
loose-leaf binder. I do have a
typewriter which does not work too well, but I do better "thinking"
by manual printing.
My basic thoughts about your history is
that if it does nothing else, it may point out to us (or to me) why the
Illing's have not been very good at getting together!
At least three generations never really socialized with each
other. The "Americans" rarely
write to the Germans. I never write a
letter to my own mother or my own older brother. I never helped at the end of World War II,
when relatives were hungry. I did
nothing for the widow of my brother or his beautiful daughter.
If you can answer such a question, your history would
certainly be worth while.
Best regards,
Walter
North Hollywood
March 7, 1986
Dear Sig,
I am not quite sure what kind of a "history" we
are writing. Is it a history or is it a
"family tree"?
A book nearly always needs some kind of a FORWARD, or an
introduction.
The word "history" can mean many things. True events, a story of
people, the story of a country, a list of past records, an inquiry, an
explanation, an apology, etc.
Are we concerned in the actions of the German Illing's and
the thoughts of the American Illing's?
How much guilt do we have?
Do we believe in Freud? Do we
believe in the perfection of God?
There is a German psychological term,
"SCHADENFREUDE", which refers to the relief we feel when something
bad happens to someone else instead of to us.
The soldier in combat who sees his friend killed 20 yards away while he
himself is unhurt. Our brother Freddy
would have been the perfect person to bring to America! Sieg and I could have been in the German
army! (Sieg and I were
contacted by the German counsel in 1935 to report for army duty.)
Who are really the key persons in our family? Alfred Illing was certainly important! He himself discovered America. He became very successful and wealthy. He died a lonely, broken-down, neglected,
poor alcoholic!
Your grandmother
Marie made a great sacrifice. The
original plan was for Sieg and I to be educated in
American and return to Germany after high school. Was our mother happy to see us go? Did she
have the sorrow of a mother losing her young sons? Did she realize that our opportunities would
be greater in America? She had her male friend!
I notice that in all of my pictures as a young man, I never smiled,
but always frowned.
Did anyone ever write to her? I know one German prisoner at Dachau who came
to me when he was freed and offered to look up our mother in Leipzig.
He found her
and she wrote me a letter in Dachau which I do not think I answered. I forget.
I was under heavy questioning by the CIA at the time.
Sig - none of these questions are written to you to
discourage our history! I only want to
know which direction you want to go.
Sieg wrote me a nice letter.
He likes your ideas very much.
He sent me the address of the HISTORIC EMIGRATION
OFFICE. I will certainly contact them
and will also work with out local German counsel.
I bought a cassette edition of German language to improve my
Deutsche vocabulary. I think that you
and I are headed for a trip to Leipzig.
THE MOST IMPORTANT THING THAT I MUST HAVE - IS FIRST NAMES:
Freddy's wife
Freddy's daughter
Wives of the five brothers - and others
Best regards,
Love,
Walter
P.S. I am reading and
looking for more books about a new philosophy about Germany. Before Hitler and the Nazi, Germany, was the
great country to recognize the Jews.
Jewish Yiddish is exactly like German. All the Jewish names were taken from
German. Only in Germany were the Jews
treated well.
I think the Germans will be treated better some day - about the Jews.
WKI
North Hollywood, California
April 24, 1986
Dear Sig:
I also have been busy with a lot of personal things. It is very easy to keep putting off letters for
another day. I am happy to again have a
typewriter which makes writing a lot easier.
My good IBM has been out of action for about 2 years and I have looked
around for a new machine but hated to give up the old faithful. Finally, I took it to a typewriter shop and
decided to spend $50 to get it fixed; or if it cost more than $50, I would junk
it and buy a new one. I explained my
problems with the machine and the mechanic pulled a lever and told me to try
writing NOW. It worked perfectly! I could not believe my eyes. The entire
operation took 30 seconds. He refused
any payment but I insisted that he accept the price of a beer. There must be some kind of a moral to this story.
Today I read a nice line from THOREAU: "If you have built castles in the air,
your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them."
I have had no success in finding anything about the Illing's
in Germany, but my effort has not been very good. However, I have now laid out some plans for a
real detective program.
Let me give you some ideas about which I can report in my
next letter:
1. A request to the
police department of Altenberg for information about
Freddy's wife.
2. The Consulate
General at 6435 Wilshire Blvd. has told me that all citizens in Western Germany
must register at the Police Station no matter where they move. These records are kept permanently so they
must have some information.
3. Today I learned
about a German newspaper called the California STAATZEITUNG... I am sure that there are other people like
you and I who are looking for relatives and could give some ideas.
4. I was surprised to
learn that there are a lot of German churches in Los Angeles where friends
could be found.
5. I also found out
about a German language club with a P.O. Box number in Pasadena.
6. There is also a
German bookstore just a few blocks from where I work.
There are really a lot of places for us to find things once
we set our minds into the proper channels.
I wrote a letter to your dad this morning. He has written to me about a plan that he and
Jim (your brother) have to visit me in May.
The Illing family may still have a "getting together" some day.
I will write to you soon.
I send my love to you!
Walter
May 12, 1986
Dear Sig:
DON'T GIVE UP! My
present effort is to find Edith Gehring. The L.A. German Consulate has shown me the
proper way to address my letter to Germany.
He says to mail it to the BURGERMEISTER of Altenburg, German Democratic
Republic, Eastern Germany. The letter is on the way. There is no way of knowing how much red tape
is involved. I never dreamed that
Altenburg was in East Germany. I have
also given the necessary information to a friend of mine who travels to Germany
nearly every other month on some kind of business. His next trip is in June and he has promised
to do some sleuthing. He has also given
the information to his secretary because she calls Germany almost every
day. I just discovered about his
connections to Germany last week.
All these little "difficulties" are time consuming
for us but, in the long run, they will be very interesting.
I am determined to find Freddy's widow and/or his
daughter. My belated shame is very deep.
You should have told me about Ferdinand. I would have bet him in the Kentucky Derby.
We must figure out a way to get Evelyn to open her mouth!
My best to you.
Walter
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF WALTER K. ILLING
I saw my father once!
This was the first thing I can remember ever seeing. He was dressed in a soldier's uniform and
held a baby in his arms. He was holding
Sieg at the age of about 3 months, which made me about 15 months old.
We lived in a second floor flat on Donnerstrasse,
Leipzig. The older brother, Freddy, was
2 years older than I.
Our mother was an attractive redhead. She supported us by scrubbing floors at night
in a building. (Not
nearby because she rode a street car.)
In the winter, we boys would visit the building where our mother passed
to us. Hunks of coal
to take home with which to warm the flat.
The big event in our lives was a train trip to Liechtenstein
to visit the Illing Grossvater and Grossmutter. We
looked forward to eating potato pancakes.
Grossvater was proud of his good berries. He had a goat which was hitched to a goat
cart and wheeled around the town. We
picked up horse manure off the streets for fertilizer for the garden.
I remember a small hole in the cement of the rear of the
house. There Grossvater allowed the blood from a
freshly killed goose to coagulate so that it could be made into blutwurst. That is
still my favorite cold German sausage.
Alfred and Gertrude came to Leipzig and brought us some
liverwurst.
WALTER AND SIEG TO AMERICA
Our uncle Alfred was the oldest of the five Illing brothers. He came to the United States early in this
century.
He was a fine artist and helped to make maps for the U.S.
Government. There is a rumor that our
father visited him there in the U.S. before the World War I. (It is possible) Later in the German army, he was killed in
Russia.
A couple of years after World War I, Uncle Alfred and his
wife, Gertrude, came to Germany to visit his parents and brothers.
One afternoon, when our mother was away, Sieg and I were
alone. I don't know where Freddy was.
Sometimes he visited the armory nearby where some German (or other
soldiers) lived. He always carried a tin
cup in case there was some hot chocolate.
I asked him why he also carried a spoon.
"That is for the lumps in the chocolate." he answered. I never saw any signs of chocolate.
This day, Alfred and Gertrude came into the flat and
introduced themselves. They brought
beautiful fresh rolls and a huge piece of liverwurst. We were told to eat every bit of it and not
to leave any for our mother (I now suspect that our mother - of Polish descent
- was not greatly loved by the Illing family).
I loved her.
That was a feast I shall always remember. We ate every bit of it, "Wir habe es
wie ein hund
ge-essen.", after they left, and had some nasty
cuts on our hands from our childish use of a kitchen knife.
Alfred and Gertrude came again another day and met us on the
street. Uncle Alfred asked us how we
would like to come to America where the children have toy autos and lots to
eat. I laughed! I remember sitting at a table watching Grossmutter making pajamas and other children clothes. She was telling the neighbor children that
the clothes were for Sieg and I to wear to
America. The children did not believe
this story. (Today, Sieg and Burnita have these pajamas as great mementos.)
Grossvater walked with us in the beautiful forests. He gave us advice that I remember to this
day.
He had fought in the war of 1870 when Bismarck had defeated
France. He received a small Government
pension.
This was the time of unbelievable inflation in Germany. A postage stamp would cost a million
marks. A loaf of bread might cost
millions of marks one day and the next day could cost a billion marks. Grossvater and Grossmutter had a large mortgage on their house. Alfred gave them a few American dollars to
trade for enough marks to pay off the complete mortgage. However, she used the money to buy a new
kitchen stove. A few days later, Alfred
gave his mother a dollar which now proved enough to pay off the complete
mortgage!
A few days later, our mother took us to our Uncle and Aunt's
hotel room. We took a train to Berlin
and then through Denmark and Sweden. We
reached New York after a wonderful "sailing" on the S.S. Stockholm.
THE AMERICANIZATION OF SIEG AND WALTER
From New York, we took an all-night train to Beaver Falls,
Pennsylvania, which is near Pittsburgh.
We slept in a Pullman car.
I was in the upper berth. When I
woke up in the morning, I spotted a huge black smiling porter.
I shouted, "Ist hier America?"
The porter laughed, "Yes, this is America!" I reached out from my berth, put my arms
around his neck, and kissed him on both cheeks.
For many years I heard the story of my kissing a black negro! I have always
had tender feelings about the negroes.
Up the hill from Beaver Falls was a residential area called
Patterson Heights. In September, Sieg
and I started school after only 3 months in America. The little school had four grades in the
lower room and four grades in a room up above. At first we had some tough times. We were asked if the Kaiser had won the
war. We were in many childhood fights
but eventually became good friends to all of the neighborhood kids.
After I finished the first four grades at the little schoolhouse,
Uncle Alfred enrolled me in a better school down at Beaver Falls.
There was a unique small "incline" rail car that
transported people up the hill to Patterson Heights. The fare was 6 cents. Alfred said if I would
walk up the hill he would put the 6 cents into a fund to buy milk for our
brother Freddy in Germany. I walked up
that hill for several years. I do not
remember having any correspondence with our older brother. He was raised in Liechtenstein by our
grandparents. (NOTE: This Liechtenstein is not the country by that
name, but a small village in Germany.) One time Freddy did send us a beautiful
bread tray that he had made in a wood-carving school.
Our Americanization became so complete that we completely
forgot the German language. The
anti-German feelings during and after World War I were much stronger than in
World War II. Our enemies were the Nazi
and Hitler more so than the German people.
During World War I, "hamburgers" were called
"Liberty Patties" and French toast was changed from German
toast. Germans were called Huns! German soldiers were accused of cutting off
the limbs of Belgian children, etc.
So in 1920, being only 2 years after the war, we
subconsciously buried all thoughts of being Germans.
I remember that in the Eighth grade once, a teacher asked
the pupils to raise their hand if they were born in a foreign country. I did not raise my hand. The teacher knew that I was born in Germany and
asked why I did not admit that I was from a foreign country. I merely blushed and still did not raise my
hand.
In high school, I studied German. It is the only subject that I constantly
failed.
I VISIT UNCLE
GUSTAVE
Do not be surprised if Evelyn Illing's contribution to your
book is somewhat sketchy. I believe that
her experiences of life - first 12 years under the Nazi and later under the
Russian control and now in Western Germany - could certainly make things very
confusing for her!
NOTE: In my operation
2 years ago, I lost a few cells; thus my poor spelling.
In World War II, we were forbidden to speak and mingle with
Germans except for necessary business.
However, I decided to visit my Uncle Gustave
at Altenberg about 300 miles from our Bivouac. My troops were negroes
and my jeep driver's nickname was Peanuts because of his size.
When we arrived in Altenberg, I
stopped at the police station and asked for the address of Gustave
Illing.
NOTE: Altenberg was called the "Golden City" because no
bomb had ever landed there!
A German policeman accompanied me to the well-known "Eisenhandler."
It was an attractive two-family house.
I was, of course, dressed in my army uniform. I ran up the stairways and knocked on the door. A woman about 30 years old fearfully opened
the door.
"Ich Mochte
Gern Herr Illing Sehen",
I screamed in the door. A German of
course had no idea what an American officer might demand.
Immediately Uncle Gustave hurried
to the door still slipping on the coat to his suit. In a very stern voice I asked, "Do you
know who I am?" No pause. Of course he answered, "You are
Walter!" As if he had just seen me
yesterday instead of 25 years ago.
We embraced the great joy as his wife and daughter Evelyn
joined us! The lady who had answered the
door was the wife of our brother Freddy.
A 5-year old blonde was my brother Freddy's beautiful daughter. I still did not know that our brother had
been killed in Russia.
I had brought plenty of cigarettes, food, and liquor with
me, expecting to find the usual poverty-stricken German home. However,
Gustave's business of "Eisenhandler" was a
lucrative, highly respected iron and junk dealer.
I visited for 3 days sleeping on silk sheets. Peanuts stayed in a guest house over the
garage. He was an interesting person for
the Germans to see. We ate well, drank
rather heavily, and sang around the piano.
Uncle Gustave explained to me that he
had never been a Nazi but all of his neighbors were Nazis. (A typical story that I
heard from many other Germans; certainly understandable and not to be
criticized.)
Evelyn, at the age of 12, had been a member of the Hitler Jugend. The parents were very careful of their talk and
actions because many children had turned in members of their family.
Gustave's wife (I think her name was Erma) wore a razor
blade on a chain around her neck. This
was for suicide in case the dreadful Russians take over the city of Altenberg. The
Russians did take over the city. I am
sure she did not use the razor blade but her fear was tremendous.
Freddy's widowed wife showed me the
personal things that our brother had carried and worn at the Russian
front. Somehow one of his friends
(Kriegs Bruder) had brought them home. I
stared at them. I touched them and we
wept together.