The bombing of Pforzheim

My mother, grandmother, and uncle in Germany.
After surviving the bombing and the war, they emigrated to the USA in 1952.

February 23 was always my mother's "personal day of mourning" when she was alive. That was the anniversary of the day in 1945 when Pforzheim, her hometown in southern Germany, was obliterated by an allied bombing attack near the end of World War II (Germany was already crippled by this time and would surrender just 11 weeks later).

The bombing raid lasted only about 22 minutes. There were 379 aircraft involved, dropping a mixture of explosive bombs meant to destroy on impact, and phosphorus bombs designed to spread fire. The downtown area, with its ancient, dry, timber construction, was totally destroyed - an area of about 2 miles by 1 mile, reduced to rubble. Surrounding residential areas were devastated; an estimated 83% of the town's buildings were gone. In addition to those who died from the explosions, fires, or burning phosphorous, many more suffocated because the fire in the city center was so intense that it sucked all the oxygen from nearby areas. More than one of every four residents of the city perished (at least 17,600 deaths); many more were burned and crippled, and tens of thousands lost their homes and all their possessions.

According to allied military records, the town was identified as a center of jewelry and clock-making industry, with lots of in-home workshops. Since clocks are precision intruments, and that kind of technology is critical for military equipment, the allies felt the city "likely" contributed to the Nazi regime and therefore posed a threat. Destroying the entire city, homes and buildings included, would assure nothing was being contributed to the war effort.

A few years ago I came across a video that showed the actual bombing of the city from some of the planes flying over. A narrator casually states, "A city is literally being wiped out before your eyes. Explosions and fires are sucking the oxygen from the air. Nothing can live in this inferno. City by city, the Nazi Reich is dying."

For me to watch those airplanes dropping bombs and see the fires and explosions that result is overwhelming. The almost glib, boastful tone of the commentator rankles. As those bombs begin to fall, I know that somewhere in the city below, hiding desperately in a cellar at Sophienstraße 34, is a terrified woman and her 15-year-old son, my grandmother and uncle.

Mom, who was almost 19 at the time, was not in Pforzheim when this occurred; she was in a service camp in the country many miles away. But she knew from radio reports that the bombing was in progress; soon she saw the flames lighting the night sky as the city burned for days afterward. She knew her mother and brother were there, along with other relatives; she would not know for two weeks that they had survived by fleeing along the nearby Enz river to escape the inferno of the city.

War is a terrible thing. Motives are not always clear. Decisions are sometimes very hard to justify. But remembering this event, and being able to see aspects of it from two very different viewpoints, reminds me that every story has multiple explanations. It's often very difficult to see things from another's viewpoint, especially when we are emotionally invested in our own opinions. In this case, there is no doubt that the atrocities of the Nazi regime are among the most tragic of history. There is no doubt that the German bombing of London took its toll, and there was likely some sense of justified retribution.

But to have a personal link to the innocent civilians who were the victims in this scenario only emphasizes for me the depth of the tragedy that war always presents. Thousands of completely innocent men, women, and children who had NOTHING to do with the Nazi programs lost their lives in this horrific event. Tens of thousands who managed to survive, including my ancestors, were forever changed by the experience. As a descendant of a survivor, I #GiveThanks for my mother and grandmother today, grateful for their lives and the legacy they passed on to me.

And I #GiveThanks for the critical life lesson: ALWAYS try to see both sides to every story. This applies to politics, to relationships, to employment, to public interactions, to situations in which we are "quick to judge" when presented with some initial facts. There is ALWAYS more to the story than we realize. We should be merciful and patient in our judgements.

Bombs falling over Pforzheim, while the early impacts (upper left) begin to destroy the city.

The rubble of downtown Pforzheim after the bombing.