PeterNZer Posted December 24, 2001 Share Posted December 24, 2001 This is a picture drawn by a soldier on christmas day in the Stalingrad cauldron. It's printed in the very moving book by Heinz Schroeter:" Stalingrad - bis zur letzten Patrone (to the last bullet)" The inscription reads: Christmas in the Cauldron, 1942 LIGHT LIFE LOVE Fortress Stalingrad --- merry x-mas to all of you! Oli // Lindan Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
M Hofbauer Posted December 24, 2001 Share Posted December 24, 2001 thanks for sharing, very moving. do you happen to know anything about the fate of the author? Gesegnete Weihnachten everybody! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tobruk Posted December 24, 2001 Share Posted December 24, 2001 Hi Oli, That's quite a thought provoking find; it sure gives us pause to think about the meaning of Christmas. Thanks for posting it. I've tried to reach you through 3 different email addresses. If you don't get one of them email me, ok? And Have a Very Merry Christmas, my friend!!! -Tom Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
PeterNZer Posted December 25, 2001 Author Share Posted December 25, 2001 Hi Tom, just got your mail, reply should be in your inbox by now. good to see you again. Hofbauer, I'll look it up, I cant remember exactly... I'll post it here as soon as I find something. cheers, Oli Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
PeterNZer Posted December 27, 2001 Author Share Posted December 27, 2001 I found something about the author. I'll try to translate a paragraph. For those who got the book, it's on page 144. > Hundredthousands know the "Madonna of Stalingrad" without knowing how he she was created and who painted her. In the earthcaves of Stalingrad, despite the daily dangers and nearby death, were preparations for the holy night underway. The medical bunker of Oberarzt (chief medic?) Dr. Kurt Reuber was separated by a blanket. In the narrow room, for the holy night, the doctor drew a picture for his wounded and dying comrades. He knew that words didn't mean much, but that the eyes could see. And in the silent view, the picture of the mother with her child, illuminated by a secret light and protected by the wide cloak, passed into the soul of the comrades. Then follows a paragraph I'm unable to relay because my English wont allow to do it justice. It's from the doctors final letter home. Suffice to say that the picture was drawn standing on some planks in the tiny room without adequate materials, on the back of a russian map, interrupted by permanent dropping of pencils into cracks, without adequate distance to the painting, standing hunched over it. at the end of the paragraph: " The soldiers celebrate the holy night with the last bottle of champagne, given by the commander to the wounded. They sing "silent night, holy night". We have to dive to the ground with filled glasses. Bombs outside. I take my medical bag and run outside, to the impacts, to the dead and wounded. My "celebration"-bunker turns to dressing station. I can't help a dying. Smashed brains.The dead, who just left left the celebration for service had said just moments before: "but first I will sing the song with you together: holy night!" Moments later he was dead. It is night, but holy night. And it was full of so much sorrow. " Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts