Regina Cole, the unlost memories from the homeland

Between May and September 1945, most displaced persons returned home, with Allied military personnel overseeing the departure of an estimated 33,000 persons per day. Others were forcibly repatriated to the hands of the Soviet Union authorities. By the end of September, however, 1.2 million displaced persons remained in Germany and refused to return home.

By 1951, most of these displaced persons, often referred to as “the last million,” had immigrated to the United States, Canada, Australia, and other countries.

Regina Cole and her parents were among those who made it to the United States. She was only 8 years old, and she still remembers how life was and the traumatic experiences her parents had.

A WWII refugee would have experienced extreme fear and hardship, displacement, loss of job, home and family, and uncertainty about the future.

-Did your parents ever tell you about their experiences before reaching the refugee camp where you were born?

My father burned his German Navy uniform when he heard of Hitler’s death, so that he would not be arrested or executed as a deserter by German troops, or as an enemy combatant by Russian troops. He and my mother fled across much of eastern Europe on foot, hungry and in fear.

-Where did they were displaced from? What was their cultural background?

My mother was from Gdansk, called Danzig when she lived there. My father’s home was a rural town in Eastern Germany. Both were ethnic Germans.

-How did they reach the refugee camp?

My parents made their way across the “Iron Curtain” into West Germany, hiding from border guards. The American Red Cross reconnected them with my mother’s parents and sister, who had fled to West Germany. They had been separated for three years, not knowing whether their family members had survived the war or not. They ended up in a refugee camp Wilhelmshaven, on the North Sea, where I was born.

-And you were born in the refugee camp. Do you remember anything about the refugee camp?

My first memory, at age two, is of leaving the refugee camp in a truck belonging to a friend of my parents. I remember sitting in my mother’s lap and looking out at my father and my brother, who rode in the truck bed.

-How did they decide to come to the United States?

My parents believed that, if one must start life all over again, the United States is the place to do that. They had lost their homes, many family members, and friends, and decided to head for the “land of opportunity.”

-And you and they came over by ship. Tell us about the experience of entering New York City harbor and seeing the Statue of Liberty from the vessel.

We came across the North Atlantic on the “Italia,” an aging ship of the Home Lines. It was October, and very stormy – my mother was seasick most of the time. The trip took 11 days, from Cuxhaven, Germany to Southampton, England to Le Havre, France and from there, New York. When we sailed into New York Harbor early one morning, there was the sound of many feet running up to the deck. My brother, who was two years older than I, and I joined them to see what they were rushing to see: the Statue of Liberty. As we steamed past, the adults made way for us children so that we could see Lady Liberty holding up her torch. I found the sight spectacular and beautiful.

-Once in the US, where were you and your parents relocated?

Upon leaving the ship, we stayed at the Chelsea Hotel for several nights while I recovered from the flu and my father and brother went sightseeing in Manhattan. Friends from Germany picked us up and we spent several days with them in Wilton, Connecticut. Then we were driven to Lawrence, Massachusetts (the “Immigrant City,”) where we lived for the next 10 years.

-And you began a new life in the US. Your parents went to work to make a living, and you had the opportunity to go to school to learn a new language and make friends.

My mother spoke English and was a Registered Nurse, so she soon found work at the Lawrence General Hospital. This was new for my brother and me; in Germany she had been a stay-at-home mother. My father struggled to learn English, and he was laid off from several jobs, so things were hard for him. My brother and I attended the local school, learned English, and tried to adjust to our new life. But it was not easy. It was the first time we’d seen our parents fight and be unhappy. I was homesick and missed my grandparents, friends, schoolmates, familiar food – everything was different.

-Later, you had the opportunity to develop a lifestyle and a career in journalism. You were married and you had a family.

Eventually, I learned to assimilate. I found comfort in voracious reading and went to college, the first one in my family to do so.

-Did your parents ever talk about their memories from WWII and the refugee camp?

My parents learned that, in the United States, talking about their German past was touchy. My father had served in Hitler’s Navy and my mother’s nursing degree had a Swastika on it. Although they insisted that they had never been Nazis, they were not dissenters and never rejected their German heritage. As I grew older, I asked challenging questions about their histories. As time went on, they talked very little about their past.

-How did it feel visiting the country where you were born and the location your parents were displaced from?

I visited Germany several times since coming here in 1957. In 1993, after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Iron Curtain, and the USSR, I went to Gdansk with my parents. My mother had always said that she wanted to show me the city of her birth. It is a beautiful Baroque city that showcases its history as an important port in the Hanseatic League.

-Have you ever visited the whereabouts where you were born?

I have not been to Wilhelmshaven, where I was born. It simply never happened; when I visited Germany I stayed with family and did not have the personal mobility to go where I wanted. I was told that nothing of what had been there in the late 1940s, when I was born, remained.