1918 was a momentous year in history; it culminated with the end of WW1. This became known as the Great War.
In January 1918, the American president, Woodrow Wilson, mooted a world peace plan.
This time 100 years ago (June), the war was still engaged.
My German grandfather Ernst was a captive of the Allies in France as an internee. He did not know if his family had survived; if he would ever see his English born wife and French-born children, again.
His wife, my father’s mother, by a bizarre twist of fate, had ended up as a refugee in Munich, Germany. Amalia lived with her in-laws, forced by the Germans to work in a munitions factory. With starvation rampant, Munich was a violent city. Amalia’s only thoughts were to keep her children alive. They had already endured so much, on the refugee road from France to Germany. Memories of her hometown London, and happy days living in Versailles with her husband began to dim.
My English grandmother Agnes was my mother’s mother. A widow, she lived in Hamburg Germany with three children. It was a battle to feed them, as food was hard to come by. She yearned to see her family in London. Her sister Laura, whose German was with a strong cockney accent, worked in the local hospital. Arriving in Germany before the war, the sisters travelled to live with loved ones and start a new life.
My ancestor’s fortitude, faith, and hope helped them through this dark age.
They are my light in the darkness when the going gets tough.
You can read about their journey through The Great War, in my first book
Mizpah Cousins: Love, life and perilous predicaments during the Great War era.
I believe, understanding our ancestors walk through history, empowers our lives today.
If the going is tough for you at the moment, I am reaching out and sending you every best wish. May joy, be just around the corner.
And for those whose armistice has come, I rejoice with you.