14 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

14 March, 1945      0930

Germany

Dearest sweetheart –

0930 of late seems to be the time to write you. I’ve been less often disturbed at that hour than at any other time – but the military situation has a great deal to do with it.

This spot is still as comfortable as ever – but I guess people are very queer and nothing will ever change with them. Here we’ve been without modern conveniences for so long a time – and then we strike this place. Last night – for some unexplained reason – the lights went out in the evening – and we were positively annoyed. We still had a good house, warmth, running water and a place to sit around in – but we didn’t like the fact that we had no lights. Of course – for months now – we’ve got by with flashlights, candles and kerosene lamps. Anyway, dear, the lights came on after about two hours and everybody was happy.

Yesterday I visited Charlie battery – Pete’s – but he was out on reconnaissance and I didn’t see him. I do get to see him or he – me – on the average of about once a week – but we never can spend much time together – these days. I then went on a little sight-seeing tour into the center of a large town. What a mess the air force made! You have only to picture a city the size of Boston laid waste about 85% – to get the picture. The true picture, though, is that the center of the city is 100% down, and a little of the outskirts has some buildings with walls. Well – we tried several different ways to get to one particular spot I wanted to get a snapshot of – and in each case – the road was impassable. We heard that Margaret Bourque-White was in the area – also trying to photograph the same place – apparently for Life Magazine. We didn’t run into her – and if she got her pictures – I’ll bet it wasn’t yesterday – because – the city suddenly got kind of hot and we made a beeline out of town – but not before we had a flat tire and had to sweat out a change.

Cologne - Steeple of Cathedral in Distance
14 March 1945

The Rhine at Cologne showing remains of Hohenzollern Bridge.
We got this close by accident and got out fast because the Germans
were on the other side. We were shelled (mortars) shortly afterwards.
14 March 1945

Gate and wall to inner city - Cologne
14 March 1945

Severinstor Today
One of three medieval city gates still remaining
This photo belongs to Letícia F. Terra's Flickr photostream

Near Cologne - A little better - March 1945
Note Germans and cart - Evacuating - We had just moved in.

When I got back I found a V-Mail and an air-mail (28 February) from you – and an old letter – from Dad A. Your V-Mail was undated – dear – but must have been of a recent date because it sang of the Spring – ah – the beautiful Spring! Your air-mail had an enclosure in it – the note from Betty Levine. I didn’t hear from her directly, but I got a V-mail from Stan the other day – thanking us for the gift. I don’t remember whether I mentioned that to you or not.

In a V-mail from you the other day – you mentioned hearing from Shirley Feldberg. I’ll bet you were surprised hearing from her after a lapse of time of months – I guess. I wonder if you’ve seen her yet – I suppose she must know about Stan’s marriage. I liked Shirley; she has a good head on her – she proved that by not getting tied up with Stan. That’s not a very fair thing to say about a guy that was once one of my closest friends – but the fact is – he wouldn’t have been marrying her for love – and I guess she was smart enough to sense it. Every now and then I think back to the days when I first met you – and the days when I first left the States – and I get very angry at Stan – all over again – for the way he acted behind my back, – and I wonder how we’ve managed to remain friends. What I should have done is to have written him what I thought of him and let it end right there. Anyway – I know I’ll never trust him again. I remember your telling me your father’s opinion of him – and I thought your father must have been all wet. He wasn’t.

Well – the hell with that subject. Here it is about time for me to be getting back to work – and I haven’t even talked about us – about you and me and our own world! That’s what we’ll have some day, sweetheart, our own world, and do you know what we’ll use to generate power in it? Love! Of course – plenty of strong concentrated love. I can hardly wait –

I’ll really have to stop now, darling and get on my theoretical horse. I hope everything’s O.K. at home and that Mother B is feeling steadily better. Love to the folks, dear – and

All my everlasting love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Margaret Bourke-White

Margaret Bourke-White
American Photographer and Documentary Photographer

From Wikipedia comes this:

Bourke-White was born in the Bronx, New York, to Joseph White, a non-observant Jew from an Orthodox Jewish family and Minnie Bourke, the Protestant daughter of an Irish ship's carpenter and an English cook. She grew up in Bound Brook, New Jersey, but graduated from Plainfield High School. Her father was a naturalist, engineer and inventor. His work improved the four-color printing process that is used for books and magazines. Her mother, Minnie Bourke, was a "resourceful homemaker." Margaret learned from her father perfection, from her mother, the unabashed desire for self-improvement." Margaret's success was not a family fluke. Her older sister, Ruth White, was well known for her work at the American Bar Association in Chicago, Illinois, and her younger brother Roger Bourke White became a prominent Cleveland businessman and high-tech industry founder.

From a Combat Camera's former web site came this bio of Margaret-Bourke White:

She is most famously known as the first foreign photographer permitted to take picture of Soviet Industry, the first female war correspondent (and related, the first female permitted to work in combat zones) and the first female photographer for Henry Luce’s LIFE magazine, where her photograph graced the first LIFE cover.

Fort Peck Dam, Montana
Credit: Margaret Bourke-White

Bourke-White was the first female war correspondent and the first woman to be allowed to work in combat zones during World War II. In 1941, she traveled to the Soviet Union just as Germany broke its pact of non-aggression. She was the only foreign photographer in Moscow when German forces invaded. Taking refuge in the U.S. Embassy, she then captured the ensuing firestorms on camera.

Kremlin Bombardment by German Luftwaffe
Credit: Margaret Bourke-White

As the war progressed, she was attached to the U.S. Army Air Force in North Africa, then to the U.S. Army in Italy and later Germany. She repeatedly came under fire in Italy in areas of fierce fighting. The woman who had been torpedoed in the Mediterranean, strafed by the Luftwaffe, stranded on an Arctic island, bombarded in Moscow, and pulled out of the Chesapeake when her chopper crashed, was known to the LIFE staff as "Maggie the Indestructible." This incident in the Mediterranean refers to the sinking of the England-Africa bound British troopship SS Strathallan which she recorded in an article “Women in Lifeboats”, in LIFE, February 22, 1943.

Photo from "Women in Lifeboats," LIFE, 22 February 1943
Credit: Margaret Bourke-White

In the spring of 1945, she traveled through a collapsing Germany with General George S. Patton. In this period, she arrived at Buchenwald, the notorious concentration camp. She is quoted as saying, “Using a camera was almost a relief. It interposed a slight barrier between myself and the horror in front of me.” After the war, she produced a book entitled Dear Fatherland, Rest Quietly, a project that helped her come to grips with the brutality she had witnessed during and after the war.

Buchenwald
Credit: Margaret Bourke-White

To many who got in the way of a Bourke-White photograph — and that included not just bureaucrats and functionaries but professional colleagues like assistants, reporters, and other photographers — she was regarded as imperious, calculating, and insensitive.” She had a knack for being at the right place at the right time: She interviewed and photographed Mohandas K. Gandhi just a few hours before his assassination.

Ghandi (1951)
Credit: Margaret Bourke-White

Eisenstaedt, her friend and colleague, said one of her strengths was that there was no assignment and no picture that was unimportant to her.

Also from Wikipedia:

During the 1950s, Bourke-White was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. She had just turned 50 when she had to slow her career to fight off the disease, initially with physical therapy, then with brain surgery in 1959 and 1961.

She wrote her autobiography, Portrait of Myself, which was published in 1963 and became a best seller, but she grew increasingly infirm and increasingly became more isolated in her home in Darien, Connecticut. Her living room there "was wallpapered in one huge, floor-to-ceiling, perfectly-stitched-together black-and-white photograph of an evergreen forest that she had shot in Czechoslovakia in 1938." A pension plan set up in the 1950s "though generous for that time" no longer covered her health-care costs. She also suffered financially from her personal generosity and "less-than-responsible attendant care."

She died in Connecticut of Parkinson's Disease at the age of 67, nearly 18 years after she developed her first symptoms.

13 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

13 March, 1945      0930

Germany

My dearest darling Wilma –

Well – we’re a bit more settled today and I won’t mind if we stay awhile. This spot is O.K. – and it took me all the way back to my fraternity days – the way we sat and lounged around last evening. A radio was going continuously, as was a game of Bridge. The rest of the fellows were sitting around – reading or writing. Hell – except for occasional artillery of both varieties – you’d hardly think there was a war on.

I can’t seem to remember what I wrote you in yesterday’s V-Mail, dear – but if I didn’t tell you I love you – I ought to be whipped. Anyway – I do – and more strongly than ever, sweetheart, and that’s a healthy sign. And loving you as I do, I aim to marry you and make you my own for always. Is that clear?

Now that that’s settled, I guess we can take up the business of the day. First matter on the docket is to tell you that I love you very strongly today, too! Well! Well! – let’s get along here – we don’t seem to be making very much progress. I don’t know – I’d be more careful before making a statement like that. For example, Al Smith used to say, let’s look at the facts: I tell you I love you and you say the same; I want to kiss you, hold you, squeeze you – and generally love you up and down; you agree to that. Hell – if that’s not progress – then I can’t think of a better word. All right, all right – let’s not argue about it – all I wanted to do – was to get going on this letter. Well – what’s the g-d’d rush, anyway? The hell with the letter – I want to clear up this ‘love’ situation. Am I going to be able to bring it up when I want to – or not? If not – so help me. I’ll stop right now and let you imagine what else I was going to write.

To go on – then – remember that I can write what I want and as often as I wish – on any subject too. Now – if we were married right now – and you were in my clutches – and honestly, I mean ‘clutches’ – you’d be continuously gasping for breath. I really think you’d better fit yourself for a good oxygen-concentrating mask, sweetheart – because I won’t let you come up for air very often – and when I do – it will be for only seconds at a time; you’ll then be able to clasp your mask on quickly, and as soon as your color changes from blue to pink – we’ll start all over again. What a wonderful way to become breathless, darling! Just thinking about it now makes me gasp – psychically only – of course – but these are hard times – and we can’t complain. Pity those who don’t even have that!

And when we’re all alone – by ourselves, with no one to disturb us, I’ll look at you, hold you tightly to me – and tell you all the nice things I wanted to before I left you – and didn’t dare – and all the things I’ve stored up in me all these long months. And we’ll be happy.

Hell, sweetheart – I didn’t tell you much news today – and this didn’t turn out to be much of a letter. But I don’t want to change the mood. So for now, dearest, so long, be well, send my love to the folks – and always always remember that I am

Yours alone

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Monuments, Fine Arts and Archives

The Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives branch (MFA&A) of the U.S. Army had not developed even to the modest proportions envisioned in early 1944 when the U.S. entered Germany. SHAEF and 12th Army Group had MFA&A sections in the G-5, and each "E" detachment had space for one MFA&A officer. In the advance in March and April 1945, the armies employed one officer apiece on detached service from the E detachments. On the other hand, the monuments multiplied as the front moved into Germany. The monuments, including archives, in the SHAEF official list totaled 1,055 for all Germany. By late March, 12th Army Group had identified 600 in the path of its advance alone. SHAEF had listed 15 monuments in Aachen. After the city was captured, the number rose to 66. The list made no provision at all for art collections, libraries, and archives evacuated from the cities and deposited in remote places to keep them safe during the bombing; and 12th Army Group had found or knew about 115 items in this category before the end of March.

Because of the nature of the war, even having many more MFA&A officers could not have prevented the most extensive losses. The bombs had generally done their work days, weeks, or months before the first Americans appeared on the scene, and MFA&A had left to itself the sad task of assessing what had survived and what was gone for good. In the old city of  Trier, for instance, the only structures found undamaged were the Roman ruins. The bombers had obviously tried to avoid the churches but were only partially successful. The cathedral, the oldest Romanesque church in Germany, had taken one direct hit, and the bell had shaken loose and fallen through the tower. The Liebfrauenkirche, an early Gothic structure dating from the thirteenth century, was badly damaged, and the eighteenth century Paulinuskirche had a hole in its roof. In both structures, all the windows were blown out. The most that could be done was to make the buildings weather-tight to prevent added damage from the elements. In buildings so old, whatever was left was valuable, and close inspection revealed that some things, such as the paintings in the interior pillars of the Liebfrauenkirche, had survived practically intact.

Leibfrauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) in Trier
Entry after WWII Damage (above)
and Repaired (below)




Leibfrauenkirche in Trier Today

Probably the least necessary casualties were the castles, of which the Rhineland had a large number. Most, generally located in isolated spots, had come through the bombing well; but castles have military associations, and sometimes the artillery could not resist laying in a few rounds. Castles also were rumored to have fabulous wine cellars, which made them magnets for thirsty troops. They also made attractive command posts and billets, often the only ones for miles around. Unfortunately, because they were generally safe from bombing, the Germans had done nothing to protect the castles or their contents and had used them to store art work and archives evacuated from the cities. From experience, MFA&A officers ranked them as the least safe depositories, after ordinary country houses and far below churches, monasteries, and hospitals. At Rimburg Castle in Aachen, the furniture and art work were scattered, vandalized and thrown into the moat, and the locked rooms broken into and rifled. When Ninth Army G-5 MFA&A advisers later toured, they concluded the destruction was a combined effort among the British, Canadian and American troops. There were slashed pictures and cases of books from the Aachen library broken open with their contents strewn about by souvenir hunters. A castle of the Deutschorden at Siersdorf near Aachen, a division had set up its command post and moved valuable carved panelling from the Aachen Rathaus (city hall) out into the weather where they were ruined. After this, units had been ordered to inventory all valuables and store them under lock and key; but such orders were notoriously hard to enforce in a fluid situation.

One castle which had not escaped the air raids was the Schloss Augustusburg, located in Brühl. Augustusburg had been a fine example of Baroque architecture, complete with a grand staircase, chapel, gardens, and outlying lodge. On 10 October 1944, a single bomb destroyed the north wing. On 28 December, several bombs had hit near the chapel, and the concussions smashed the plaster baroque and rococo interior. On 4 March, two days before the castle fell into American hands, three artillery shells struck the main building. Testimony taken later indicated that no German troops had been in or near the building. One shell blew a corner off the roof. The other two detonated inside and did extensive damage. Before the military government detachment arrived in Brühl, troops bivouacked in the Schloss and caused more damage. Again it was a case of trying to salvage something from the wreckage. Detachment I1D2 found an architect, a master carpenter, and a dozen carpenters and laborers and put them to work patching the roof, shoring up the walls, and putting cardboard in the windows. Material had to be scavenged from other ruins in the city. The detachment stationed two German policemen on the grounds, but they had no authority over US soldiers who continued to go in and out as they pleased. Augustusburg seemed likely to suffer the same treatment as Rimburg.

Front and Back of Castle (Schloss) Augustusburg in Brühl
Today the palace belongs to the government of North Rhine-Westfalia
and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site

CLICK TO ENLARGE
   

Lt. Col. Webb, SHAEF's MFA&A adviser, toured the two British armies and US Ninth Army in March. Pillage and wanton destruction, he concluded, were at least a combined effort, being as prevalent among the British and Canadians as among the Americans. Aware that the prevailing mood was not one of kindliness toward Germans or their property, he pointed out that the German collections also contained looted art work which the Allies had pledged to restore to their rightful owners, and these pieces too were threatened. SHAEF G-5 forwarded Webb's report, adding, "It is appreciated that a certain amount of 'toughness' may be desirable in occupied territory and it is not suggested that we should instruct our troops to act in Germany as they have usually in liberated territory; nevertheless, it is important that Allied troops should not desecrate churches and should not destroy works of art looted from our allies."

It was, in fact, not a good time to attempt to convert the troops into guardians of German culture. General Smith passed the Webb report on to the army groups with the slightly equivocal comment that looting had to be considered a less despicable offense on enemy territory than on liberated territory but ought to be discouraged for the sake of the restitution policy and "to impress on the inhabitants the fact that their conquerors are superior to them not only in military prowess but in their moral standards."

12 March 1945

No letter today. Just this:

Route of the Question Mark

[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A) Gros Konigsdorf to (B) Brühl (12 miles)
6 March - 12 March 1945

March 12... Brühl. We lived in a mansion connected with a grain and feed establishment. We sent a trucking detail to haul searchlights to the Remagen beach-head. Spring at last, our first softball game of the season. Cpl [Eckel] ASHWORTH of the Medics was awarded a Silver Star for heroism when he rescued Pvt [Raymond A.] KRAJEWSKI of C Battery from a mined field.

* TIDBIT *

about Awards from the French

The snapshots that follow were taken from Normandy to Victory: The War Diary of General Courtney H. Hodges & the First U.S. Army, maintained by his aides Major William C. Sylvan and Captain Francis G. Smith Jr.; edited by John T. Greenwood, copyright 2008 by the Association of the United States Army,  describing the French giving awards to the Americans in Duren:

[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

11 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

11 March, 1945      0930

Germany

Dearest sweetheart –

An early start on another Sunday morning in Godforsaken Germany. It does my heart good to see the present servility of these people of the Master-race as they drift back to their homes and ask permission to look for this or that and take it with them. I’m called over on all cases as interpreter and when they hear me speak – they jabber on and on about how they didn’t want Hitler, that they’re not Nazis, that they have an uncle or grandmother in Chicago etc. It makes me sick and I tell them I’ve been in Germany about 3½ months and haven’t been able to meet one Nazi – and yet the whole world’s fighting them. They usually get the point then and shut up. As far as I’m concerned they’re all bastards and responsible for my being here.

Today is not exactly a Holiday and yet there’s to be some sort of parade in the big city which you’ve been reading about the past few days. Our outfit – or part of it – is to represent AA of Corps – which is a distinction of one sort or another. I don’t know why they bother to have things like that in the middle of a war – unless it’s to impress the populace. We were supposed to parade after the fall of Cherbourg – but the whole thing was called off at the last minute for some reason not clear to me.

The Colonel got back yesterday – after having had a 7 days’ Leave in London. He flew over and back – leaving from Liège. He seemed to have had a good time and said that London was much more loose and fancy-free than a year ago.

I’ve just re-read your letter of 25 February telling me of the grand day you spent together with Phil and Florence. It was nice of them to have you out with them and it sounded like a swell time – Copley, Ritz, Mayfair – gosh they seem so far away, it’s unbelievable. You get so used to 3 meals a day, drinking liquor raw out of a bottle, wearing the same khaki clothes, no tie, seeing the same all around you – why you just forget about music and dancing and waiters and tablecloths. But it’s going to be so easy to remember again! Don’t get me wrong, darling, I’m not missing that – any of it – except you. And I’m not going to miss it just so long as this war’s on over here. By the way – who were all those Joes you were dancing with? To quote you “as if I’d be jealous!” I hope they didn’t hold you too closely. They’d better not have – because they’ll have me to reckon with once I get back! But I am glad you had a good day and evening and I think it must have done you a lot of good.

Speaking of khaki clothes, Greg received the following rations
on 11 March 1945:

[CLICK TO ENLARGE]


Front and Back

I enjoyed your letter telling me about your dream – and me in it, too! It sounded like a natural enough homecoming, sweetheart, and I’m ready for it anytime. I sure wish it were me you were clutching when you awoke instead of that pillow – but it will be I some day! And of course our conversation would be about marriage, and plans etc – rather than about war. I think most of us will be willing to forget about that pronto!

And so now you’re robbing the cradle, are you? Just another example of relativity. That is interesting, though. When you think of it – these young girls being afraid there’ll be no one around for them after the war. I don’t know about no one being around – but I’ll bet the boys will have a lot to pick from. But I don’t see why a girl in her early 20’s has to worry. Anyway, sweetheart, your story made me feel like a gay, young blade – which – in fact – I am!

Yes. I guess I don’t write the folks very much – albeit often. There isn’t a heck of a lot to tell and I certainly don’t discuss the war or any aspect of it with them. Most often – it’s a 3 or 4 line letter saying that all is well – which it is. You admire my disposition about the war, dear, – and I don’t see how anyone can be otherwise. I’ve felt always that it’s tough enough at home – so why make everyone feel worse by griping and complaining? That certainly helps no one and any s-o-b that does it ought to be ashamed of himself. Darling – I’ll save my griping for afterwards – that’s fairer – because then you can gripe right back at me if you have a mind to. Then I can challenge you to a wrestling match – and win of course – because anatomically speaking, I know some swell holds – not to mention certain vital tickling spots. Boy! Oh boy! What you’re in for!

And now I’ll be in for some hell if I don’t see a couple of soldiers on sick-call. So I’ll have to take off again, sweetheart, reminding you it’s only temporary. But my love for you is permanent and that’s what counts. Love to the folks, dear and

All my sincerest love,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Bombing Essen
and the Story of the Krupp Munitions Family

The Krupp Munitions Plant after 11 March 1945 Bombing

From LIFE magazine, 4 June 1945, (Vol. 18, No. 23) came this:

A large body of the German munitions plants were located in Essen, a city of 650,000 a few miles north of the Rhine. The heart of this bod was the Krupp Works, Europe's biggest steel plant. Today the city and its heart are a mashed pulp. The picture above shows the center of the Krupp Compound, with wrecked steel mills (foreground) and blasted gas tanks (right background). Most of this damage was done by 500- and 1,000lb. bombs from high altitudes. Despite the raids Alfred Krupp recently claimed his factories were working 50% of capacity until 11 March 1945. On this date 1,000 United States Air Force bombers plastered Essen so thoroughly that even the water supply was cut off. When Americans entered the city seven of Krupp's former 200,000 workers were left in the plant.

So what of the Krupp family?

Published on 5 April 1982 an article in People magazine, (Vol. 17, No. 13), reported this:

Arndt Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach's name evokes images of war and devastation. But the 44-year-old heir to the once-dread munitions empire, is the first Krupp in 171 years to voluntarily lay down his arms. In 1966 Krupp, who has the dubious distinction of being Adolf Hitler's honorary godson, renounced his $500 million inheritance along with the right to take over the Krupp cannon works turned global conglomerate. "I wanted nothing to do with this company," sniffs Arndt. "My father sacrificed his life for work and died a twice-divorced, depressed billionaire. I'm not like him, and I was not interested in his business."

Arndt Krupp

The family began dealing in weapons 11 generations ago in 1587 with a gun-selling store in the Ruhr Valley. Arndt's great-great-grandfather, Alfred ("the Cannon King"), supplied Kaiser Wilhelm armies during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. Fearing that his workers might organize, Alfred hired an agent to inspect used toilet paper for seditious notes. His son, Fritz, a pudgy sybarite, pyramided Krupp into a world industrial power. When he wasn't building steelworks, Fritz staged Black Masses and homosexual orgies in which skyrockets were fired to celebrate orgasms. When his wife protested, he had her locked up in an asylum. When the scandal broke in the German press, Kaiser Wilhelm II rushed to his support. But it was too late—Fritz committed suicide.

Friedrich Alfred Krupp
"Felix" (1854-1902)

Alfred Krupp (1812 - 1837)
Arndt's Great-Great-Grandfather

Alfred's daughter, Bertha, inherited the cannonry in 1902 but needed a consort. Hand-picked by the Kaiser, a Prussian diplomat, Gustav von Bohlen und Halbach, was granted the right to use the Krupp name and pass it on to his eldest son. In 1945, not long after Gustav suffered a stroke, that son, Alfried, was arrested and later stood trial at Nuremberg. The Krupp empire was confiscated, and Alfried was sentenced to serve 12 years for the exploitation of some 100,000 people as slave laborers—most of them Jews, many of them women and children. "As a small boy, I went to boarding school near Landsberg Prison so I could see my father," Arndt recalls. "He was unhappy and suffered for crimes committed by Gustav. But my father had no choice. His country was at war, and Hitler told him to make munitions. He had to do it."

Gustav and Berta
Arndt's Grandparents

Alfried Krupp
Arndt's Father

Arndt and his mother, whom Alfried had deserted on Gustav's order a few years after their marriage (she was considered too bourgeois to be first lady of Kruppdom), lived hand-to-mouth and were considered pariahs until Alfried's sentence was commuted in 1951 and the company was restored to him. Graduating in the mid-'50s from a Swiss prep school where "boys beat me up because I was a Krupp," Arndt began flaunting his new wealth. He bedecked his playmates, male and female, with lavish jewelry (including a $94,000 Cartier diamond ring) and invited them aboard his 102-foot mahogany yacht, Antinous II, named for the favorite young page of the Roman Emperor Hadrian. "I have a lot of nice lady friends, but I don't exclude the company of men," says Arndt. "I enjoy beauty in every respect, whether it be male or female. In Europe that makes you a playboy."

In 1966, the year Arndt graduated from the University of Cologne, the Krupps hired a Munich public relations man to repair Arndt's image with columnists who had portrayed him as an arrogant Apollo. Finally, in 1969, Arndt decided to marry Princess Henriette "Hettie" von Auersperg of Austria's royal family. These days the couple maintain what Arndt calls "a close friendship" but choose to live apart. Says he: "I love my wife, but we each have strong character traits we need to be alone with.

"My mother has been the closest person to me," Arndt adds. "She was abandoned. I share that with her. It is something special between us." He supervises a staff of 27 servants at his Palm Beach mansion and the family's 84-room Blühnbach Castle in Austria, a 38-room Moroccan palace in Marrakesh and an apartment in Munich.

Through philanthropy, Arndt hopes to redeem his family's tarnished name and give his life meaning. "I want to spend more time in Thailand with underprivileged youth," he says. "I give half a million dollars a year to charity, so I don't feel as bad about spending $100,000 for a car or a piece of jewelry. It soothes the conscience of extravagance."

The Krupp fortune was built in the Franco-Prussian War and two world wars. Forced by the Allies to get out of the weapons business after World War II, the firm, which became a public corporation by 1968, now sells trucks, tools, toys, ships, steel and cement mixers. So why wouldn't the last heir (he has no siblings or offspring) want to rule over the kingdom? "For all my family's money," says the delicate, soft-spoken Arndt, "it didn't always bring them happiness."

Arndt is hardly suffering for his decision. At 28, he began to receive an allowance of $250,000 a year. That figure doubled when his father, Alfried, died a year later. After Arndt spurned a career with the firm, the senior Krupp willed his personal $3.5 billion fortune to a German philanthropic foundation and created a private income for his high-living son, who Alfried knew would never work. In addition to his allowance, Arndt receives a 2.5 percent royalty on each ton of coal produced by a former Krupp mine, plus a percentage of the profits from family-owned supermarkets and hotels in Munich and worldwide real estate holdings. Arndt's worth: "Maybe $80 million, maybe more. I'm not sure."

Two years ago Krupp plunked down a reported $1.5 million for the 26-room Palm Beach villa he now shares with his mother, Annelise. "I hate Germany," he huffs. "I must hide my wealth there. People threw rotten eggs at my Rolls-Royce and made fun of me when I wore expensive jewels." He claims things like that don't happen in Palm Beach—one reason he is applying for U.S. citizenship. "America is the last bastion of freedom," declares the man whose father armed Hitler's war machine. "Society here seems to accept me."

In that belief, he just spent $2.5 million renovating his mansion, including the cheeky task of moving the swimming pool from one side of the house to the other. "He has a wonderful sense of humor," says his Palm Beach chum Ann Light, fourth wife of J. Paul Getty. Chimes in millionaire neighbor Robert D.L. Gardiner: "He's fascinating, well-read and a brilliant conversationalist."

As mentioned in the People article, Arndt married Princess Henrietta von Auersperg on February 14, 1969. What the article did not say was that despite this, Arndt was notoriously homosexual. In 1986, four years after the article was written, Arndt - being an alcoholic for a long time - died in his castle in Salzburg of jaw cancer at the age of 48. He was deeply in debt.

10 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

10 March, 1945      1000

Germany

Dearest darling Wilma –

Well I wrote you a short V-mail last night because I was tired and it was late. But here it is another day, dear, and I’m off to a good start. I got 2 V-mails yesterday and an air mail. The former – 20, 21 Feb, the latter – 24 Feb – so you can see – the V-mail is again a bit slower. I’ve already heard from you by air mail – as of 28 February.

Your one V-mail mentioned a Freedman family in Salem. I did know a Mrs. Freedman and a daughter there. But I believe the daughter married a fellow I once knew at Harvard – Arnie Dane. I don’t know the other daughter – or at least I can’t remember. And it wasn’t professionally – either – that I knew them. They happened to be one of the few Jewish families I knew in my early days in Salem. But I never got to known them very well.

I was glad to read my letter to the girls had arrived and that they enjoyed it. It was nice of them to write – in the first place.

Gee I was so glad to read in your letter of 24 February about the 2 packages arriving. I don’t know just how many I’ve sent out – but I’m certain there are several more on the way. I suppose I should jot them down as I send them out and then check them – but that would be too methodical. A lot of the stuff I send you undoubtedly can be classified as junk, darling, and I realize that. But I see something – it hits me as being something to remember after the war, and I ship it off. You’ll probably have a closet full before the war’s over – but put it aside and we’ll throw out what you want to afterwards, O.K.?

So you think I’ll use the toilet set on out honeymoon, do you? Could be, dear. It really is a nice one – and what surprised me was that the woman who sent it – was a visitor to Salem; I treated her twice and never saw her again because she returned to Chicago where she lives. She also sent some candy. I wrote and thanked her and she has since written me asking me what I would like she and her husband to send me. I don’t understand it.

I’m so glad you think that the “German portfolio” I sent you is not just another book. I thought not myself; actually I’m sure it’s rare and that there are few of them around. You made no comment about it’s source or ownership. I carried it along with me ever since late August when we were in France. It comes from the same place our clock came from. You may or may not have noticed that the signature in the front of the book is that of the owner of the place we visited. If I ever hear of his whereabouts after the war – I’ll see that he gets the thing back. The real story is that the day we passed by – the Maquis were running wild; the Germans had a headquarters in the place and had just been run out. The Maquis – who were really a pretty wild bunch – ransacked the place of many of its treasures. What I took would have been ruined. There were a thousand other things – but it was just impossible to take them. I think I did well with the 2 items I got.

I’m sorry you can’t read the German, dear. I’ve sent a couple of other things home to you – a couple of simply framed poems that are nice. One about “Mother” and another one about a man’s home. Oh yes. I sent a very interesting bell home to you with an inscription on it. It’s from the days of the Kaiser – made of silver and rather different. And I’ve sent some volumes – beautifully photographed – on the 1932 and 1936 Olympics. I’ve never seen anything like it and they’re worth having.

Two Sides of Silver Bell from Kaiser Days
  

Well – you got 4 letters from me the day you got 2 packages and you said they were full of spirit and were funny. That’s good, darling, I’m glad my letters are able to strike you that way. My sense of humor? If I haven’t lost it – I’m glad too. Sometimes I feel pretty sour – but damn it – that doesn’t help one bit and I’d just as soon see the funny side of things if I can.

I knew you wouldn’t like the news about Sgt. Freeman. I hated to write it but I felt I had to. Yes – I liked him; he was dependable, steady and a good soldier. He must have written that himself – but he was more seriously wounded than he implied. He’ll be coming home – as he said. His sister wrote me – or did I tell you already? She wanted details – and I just couldn’t give them to her. That is one of the things the Army is extremely strict about. It was a difficult letter for me to answer.

Hell – I’m getting worried about your not receiving those 20 odd photos I sent you. I hope they weren’t taken out by a censor – although by now – you probably have them – I hope.

It was sweet of you to worry about my reaction to my Aunt Mollie’s death. I was taken aback when I first heard she was ill and what her illness was. Lawrence was the first to mention it. When I realized Ca [cancer] was the Dx [diagnosis] – I knew of course that the sooner the better. In recent years I saw her rarely although many members of the family played up to her constantly because of her wealth. We never did that in my family. I don’t suppose she visited us or we her 10 times in the past 5 years. She was a good scout, though, and a very striking woman, I always thought.

Yes – if the opportunity came for a trip home – for 1 day – not 30 – I’d grab it! Regardless of the heartache of having to come back – it would be worth it to me. Incidentally – I believe I told you about a friend of mine, M.C. who was 2 yrs overseas and finally sent home not long ago – reassigned, not rotated. I heard from him yesterday. He first got a leave, and since then he’s been kicked around to N.Car., Florida, Georgia and he’s now at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. He’s a bit fed up and glad to be in the States, of course. His home is in Conn. I wouldn’t mind – so much – because so long as I was in the States and there to stay – we could be married and travel about together. My – that would be fun! Getting married, Yum! Yum! Well – we will, sweetheart – no fear about that. Just keep loving me as I love you and all will be fine. Have to close now, dear. Be with you again tomorrow. My love to the folks – and

All my deepest love,

Greg

P.S. Naturally this outfit is in everything –

L,G.

"If You Still Have a Mother"

CLICK TO ENLARGE

If you still have a mother, so thank God and be content; not all on earth have this great fortune. If you still have a mother, you need to care about her with love, so that she can lay her tired head to rest in peace.

She has lived from the first day for you with fearful concerns. She brought you to bed at night, and woke you up in the morning. And when you were sick, she took care of the one she gave life with deep pains. And when all gave you up, your mother didn’t declare you lost.

She taught you the holy prayer, she first taught you talking; she put your hands together and taught you to pray to the Father (God). She guided your childhood, she guarded your youth years. Thank (only) your mother if you still follow the path of virtue.

And if you don’t have a mother any more, and you can’t make her happy any more, you still can decorate her early grave with flowers. A mother’s grave, a holy grave, for you an ever holy place! Oh, go to this place, if a wave of life pushes you over.

Author: Friedrich Wilhelm Kaulisch

* TIDBIT *

about Building More Bridges
and Attempts to Destroy Them

From "U.S. Army in WWII European Theater of Operations: The Last Offensive" by Charles B. MacDonald for the Department of the Army's Office of the Chief of Military History, Chapter XI, page 227, published in 1973 in Washington, D.C. comes this excerpt:

At the bridge site, concentrated efforts were made from the start toward supplementing the Ludendorff railroad bridge. One of the first units to arrive for the purpose was Naval Unit No. 1, a U.S. Navy force with twenty-four LCVP's (landing craft, vehicle and personnel) that had been attached to the First Army for some months in anticipation of the Rhine crossings. Also quick to arrive was an engineer unit of the III Corps, the 86th Engineer Heavy Pontoon Battalion, with orders to operate three ferries, one well north of the Ludendorff Bridge, one close to the bridge at Remagen, and the third well south of the bridge. As assembled by the engineers, the rafts were made of five pontoons covered with wooden flooring. Used as free ferries propelled by 22-hp. outboard motors, the craft began to operate as early as the morning of 9 March. The ferries and LCVP's were augmented on 14 March by ducks (2½-ton amphibious trucks) of the 819th Amphibious Truck Company.

Survey teams of the 1111th and 1159th Engineer Combat Groups, scheduled to build tactical bridges across the Rhine, reached Remagen during the morning of 8 March. Because of road priorities granted at first to infantry units and engineers who were to operate ferries, the bridging units themselves began to move to the river only during the night of 9 March. Construction of the first bridge, a treadway from Remagen to Erpel, began early on 10 March 1945.

Although jammed roads leading to Remagen continued to hamper bridge construction, the most serious delays derived from German artillery fire and air attacks. During 8 and 9 March, the Germans maintained an average rate of one shell every two minutes in the vicinity of the bridge sites, but by 10 March, their fire had fallen off to four or five rounds per hour. Artillery fire during the course of construction of the Remagen treadway bridge destroyed four cranes, two Brockway trucks, two air compressors, three dump trucks, and thirty-two floats.

Exhortation to the Luftwaffe to strike and strike again was one of the few immediate steps Field Marshal Kesselring could take toward eliminating the Ludendorff Bridge after he assumed command in the west on 10 March. He conferred that day with senior Luftwaffe commanders, urging them to knock out the bridge and any auxiliary bridges the Americans might construct.

From 8 through 16 March, the Luftwaffe tried. The German planes struck at the railroad bridge, at the ferries, and at the tactical bridges, but with no success. Whenever the weather allowed, American planes flying cover over the bridgehead interfered; even when the German pilots got through the fighter screen, they ran into a dense curtain of antiaircraft fire. When they tried a stratagem of sending slow bombers in the lead to draw the antiaircraft fire, then following with speedy jet fighters, the Americans countered by withholding part of their fire until the jets appeared. American antiaircraft units estimated that during the nine days they destroyed 109 planes and probably eliminated 36 others out of a total of 367 that attacked.

The Germans tried to destroy the railroad bridge by three additional means. First, soon after losing the bridge, they brought up a tank-mounted 540-mm. piece called the Karl Howitzer. The weapon itself weighed 132 tons and fired a projectile of 4,400 pounds, but after only a few rounds that did no damage except to random houses, the weapon had to be evacuated for repairs. Second, from 12 through 17 March a rocket unit with weapons located in the Netherlands fired eleven supersonic V-2's in the direction of the bridge, the first and only tactical use of either of the so-called German V-weapons during World War II. One rocket hit a house 300 yards east of the bridge, killing three American soldiers and wounding fifteen. That was the only damage. Three landed in the river not far from the bridge, five others west of the bridge, and one near Cologne; one was never located.

The night of 16 March, the Germans tried a third method - seven underwater swimmers in special rubber suits and carrying packages of plastic explosive compound - but from the first the Americans had anticipated such a gambit. During the first few days of the bridgehead, before nets could be strung across the river, they dropped demolition charges to discourage enemy swimmers and stationed riflemen at intervals along the railroad bridge to fire at suspicious objects. Later, with nets in place, they stationed tanks equipped with searchlights along the river. [In fact, part of the 438th AAA Aw (Mobile) Battalion helped move those searchlights to the Remagen Bridgehead and helped set them up.]

When the German swimmers first tried to reach the bridge, American artillery fire discouraged them from entering the water. On the next night, the 17th, they moved not against the railroad bridge but against tactical pontoon bridges, only to be spotted by the American searchlights. Blinded by the lights, the seven Germans, one by one,surrendered.

09 March 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

9 March, 1945      1900

Germany

Hello darling!

Just a shortie this evening to tell you I love you, miss you, want you and need you. Have been out all day and I’m a little tired but I’ll be O.K. in an hour or two.

About your V-Mails – I enjoy them and it’s swell of you to write so often. Up to about 2 months ago they seemed to arrive earlier than air mail – or so the fellows said. Recently – the reverse seems true – but it’s never the same from month to month.

All else is O.K. sweetheart, and I’ll write you a regular letter tomorrow. Will you excuse this one? I thought it better than no note at all – and anyway I wanted you to know I love you strongly!

All my love for now, dear

Greg

Love to the folks.

L.G.

* TIDBIT *

about The Firebombing of Tokyo

B-29 Firebombing Tokyo on 9 March 1945

From The History Channel's This Day in History comes this:

On 9 March 1945, U.S. warplanes launched a new bombing offensive against Japan, dropping 2,000 tons of incendiary bombs on Tokyo over the course of the subsequent 48 hours. Almost 16 square miles in and around the Japanese capital were incinerated, and between 80,000 and 130,000 Japanese civilians were killed in the worst single firestorm in recorded history. Temperatures reached 1,000° C (1,899° F). Over a million residents lost their homes.

Early on March 9, Air Force crews met on the Mariana Islands of Tinian and Saipan for a military briefing. They were planning a low-level bombing attack on Tokyo that would begin that evening, but with a twist: Their planes would be stripped of all guns except for the tail turret. The decrease in weight would increase the speed of each Superfortress bomber - and would also increase its bomb load capacity by 65 percent, making each plane able to carry more than seven tons of various incendiary explosives, including white phosphorus and napalm, a new gasoline-based, fuel-gel mixture... "You're going to deliver the biggest firecracker the Japanese have ever seen," said U.S. Gen. Curtis LeMay. In fact, the death toll from the March 9-10 bombing exceeded that of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and of Nagasaki.

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B-29s Pass Mount Fuji on the way to
Tokyo for Firebombing on 9 March 1945

The cluster bombing of the downtown Tokyo suburb of Shitamachi had been approved only a few hours earlier. Shitamachi was composed of roughly 750,000 people living in cramped quarters in wooden-frame buildings. Setting ablaze this "paper city" was a kind of experiment in the effects of firebombing; it would also destroy the light industries, called "shadow factories," that produced prefabricated war materials destined for Japanese aircraft factories.

Cluster Bombing Tokyo on 9 March 1945

The denizens of Shitamachi never had a chance of defending themselves. Their fire brigades were hopelessly undermanned, poorly trained, and poorly equipped. At 5:34 pm, Superfortress B-29 bombers took off from Saipan and Tinian, reaching their target at 12:15 a.m. on March 10. Three hundred and thirty-four bombers, flying in streams 400 miles long at a mere 500 feet, dropped their loads, creating a giant bonfire fanned by 30-knot winds that helped raze Shitamachi and spread the flames throughout Tokyo. Masses of panicked and terrified Japanese civilians scrambled to escape the inferno, most unsuccessfully. The human carnage was so great that the blood-red mists and stench of burning flesh that wafted up sickened the bomber pilots, forcing them to grab oxygen masks to keep from vomiting.

Tokyo in Flames from Bombing of 9 March 1945

The raid lasted slightly longer than three hours. "In the black Sumida River, countless bodies were floating, clothed bodies, naked bodies, all black as charcoal. It was unreal," recorded one doctor at the scene. The "only" 243 American airmen were considered acceptable losses.

"The Original Yesterdays Weapons" site posted on its page called The Tokyo Fire Raids, 1945 this eyewitness account by Robert Guillain, a French reporter, as written in his book I Saw Tokyo Burning (1985):

They set to work at once sowing the sky with fire. Bursts of light flashed everywhere in the darkness like Christmas trees lifting their decorations of flame high into the night, then fell back to earth in whistling bouquets of jagged flame. Barely a quarter of an hour after the raid started, the fire, whipped by the wind, began to scythe its way through the density of that wooden city.

The fire front advanced so rapidly that police often did not have time to evacuate threatened blocks even if a way out were open. And the wind, carrying debris from far away, planted new sprouts of fire in unexpected places. Firemen from the other half of the city tried to move into the inferno or to contain it within its own periphery, but they could not approach it except by going around it into the wind, where their efforts were useless or where everything had already been incinerated. The same thing happened that had terrorized the city during the great fire of 1923: ...under the wind and the gigantic breath of the fire, immense, incandescent vortices rose in a number of places, swirling, flattening sucking whole blocks of houses into their maelstrom of fire.

Evacuees Far Enough Away to Escape

Wherever there was a canal, people hurled themselves into the water; in shallow places, people waited, half sunk in noxious muck, mouths just above the surface of the water. Hundreds of them were later found dead; not drowned, but asphyxiated by the burning air and smoke. In other places, the water got so hot that the luckless bathers were simply boiled alive. Some of the canals ran directly into the Sumida; when the tide rose, people huddled in them drowned. In Asakusa and Honjo, people crowded onto the bridges, but the spans were made of steel that gradually heated; human clusters clinging to the white-hot railings finally let go, fell into the water and were carried off on the current. Thousands jammed the parks and gardens that lined both banks of the Sumida. As panic brought ever fresh waves of people pressing into the narrow strips of land, those in front were pushed irresistibly toward the river; whole walls of screaming humanity toppled over and disappeared in the deep water. Thousands of drowned bodies were later recovered from the Sumida estuary.

Sirens sounded the all-clear around 5 A.M. - those still working in the half of the city that had not been attacked; the other half burned for twelve hours more. I talked to someone who had inspected the scene an March 11. What was most awful, my witness told me, was having to get off his bicycle every couple of feet to pass over the countless bodies strewn through the streets. There was still a light wind blowing and some of the bodies, reduced to ashes, were simply scattering like sand. In many sectors, passage was blocked by whole incinerated crowds."

Some of the Remains of Tokyo from the Air (above)
and on the Ground (below)

08 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

8 March, 1945      0930

Germany

Dearest darling Wilma –

Mirabile dictu! – or I don’t believe it – but yesterday I actually received a letter from you post-marked and written 28 February. After the long waiting periods for letters – hearing from you one week after you wrote a letter is amazing and wonderful. It’s strange how the nearness of a date can make you seem so near. It makes me angry when I realize that mail can reach us so quickly and yet takes 4 and 5 weeks sometimes. By the way – I can’t seem to remember what date I used on the letter I wrote you yesterday, darling; it seems to me I used the 6th instead of the 7th – or it may have been the letter I wrote home.

Well, sweetheart, what can I tell you that’s news from this part of the world? Oh – that reminds me – dear; you always refer to my being 3000 miles away. It seems to me it’s even farther than that; if it isn’t actually – it feels that way anyway. Just a point, just a point. Well there isn’t a heck of a lot of news except war news and that as you know is good. It was a quiet day here most of the day and in the late evening we played a little Black Jack and Poker – the first time in a long while. I won about 100 francs. Incidentally – we get paid in Belgian francs now rather than the previous – U.S. marks. The latter were no good to us because we couldn’t buy anything in Germany anyway, and when we got back to Belgium – we had to convert.

I found your letter of 26 February, dear, extremely interesting. It was written after you had read my mail to you of the month of January and you told me about my experiences as you interpreted them, when you thought I moved – etc. Actually – we moved more there than you believed we did. You were right about the rotten month we had. It was – but it could have been worse. And your ‘moody’ letters of late December – didn’t worry me, really, dear. I understood how you felt – and I don’t expect you to be cheery all of the time. I know that’s impossible.

You still have trouble visualizing the part A.A – or rather this Battalion is playing in the war. I can’t help that, dear. If you’re confused – it’s because our own particular missions vary from time to time – and because all A.A. over here or anywhere – don’t do the same thing. You say the pictures of my activities is meager and yet I feel I tell you quite a bit. I can’t for the life of me see the point in my writing to you about tactics, maneuvers etc. – which – in the first place is strictly forbidden, and which secondly – even if not – would not help you stand the war one bit easier. If it’s tactics you want sweetheart, I’ll give you all the dope I know after the war – until it comes out of your ears!

You mention receiving more pictures, dear – I’d almost forgotten all about the batch I sent you. How many did you finally receive? I think I sent out something like 23 or 24 or 25. File them away with the rest, dear. We ought to have quite a few before we’re through. You have some from England, too, haven’t you? I’ve already got 3-4 more rolls ready for developing – but I don’t know where or when –

As for Admiral – he was a cute trick. We had him for about 4-5 mos. altogether. Before this last push – he got a bit sick and we left him with some Germans. We just didn’t have the medicine or time to look after him. I hated to leave him – but we couldn’t help it.

And I’m glad you found out about the Birthday cake and how nicely your surprise really worked. It really had me puzzled but I enjoyed it tremendously. It was interesting to note that the Field Director wrote his rather full address – a no no, dear – you should know – if you didn’t already – what Army and what Corps we’re with.

I didn’t mean to bring up the subject of age difference – dear. I don’t fear it either and as a matter of fact – it rarely enters my mind now – although, frankly, it used to. But the best and most important factor was that I never once was aware of it when I was with you – riding, talking, dancing, kissing. I always felt we clicked together – and I know that’s what counts most.

Yes – I heard from Lawrence yesterday as of 17 February. He didn’t actually say he had applied for overseas duty....

[LETTER IS MISSING ANY SUBSEQUENT PAGE(S)…]

* TIDBIT *

about Bonn, Beethoven and Another Bridge

Bonn is the 19th largest city in Germany. Located in the Cologne/Bonn Region, about 15 miles south of Cologne its history dates back to Roman times. In about 11 BC, the Roman Army appears to have stationed a small unit in what is presently the historical center of the town. Even earlier, the Army had resettled members of a Germanic tribal group allied with Rome, the Ubii, in Bonn. The Latin name for that settlement, "Bonna", may stem from the original population of this and many other settlements in the area, the Eburoni.

Bonn's most famous son, Ludwig van Beethoven, was born in 1770 in a house that is now a museum with many original artifacts including the great man's grand piano. The Beethoven Monument, a large bronze statue which stands on the Münsterplatz, was unveiled on 12 August 1845, in honor of the 75th anniversary of the composer's birth.

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When the Münsterplatz was bombed, Beethoven was untouched


Beethoven today, showing buildings on his right


Münsterplatz today

On 8 March 1945 the First Infantry Division was continuing its attack to the east, with its main objective the capture of the City of Bonn. In the late afternoon of March 8th, elements of the 3rd Battalion, 18th Infantry, cleared the town of Ollekoven, and also attacked into Bonn. By the end of the day, elements of the 16th and 18th Infantry were fighting in the streets of Bonn. Stiff resistance was encountered both on the outskirts and in the city, and over 1,000 prisoners were taken. Contact was maintained between the 1st Infantry Division and the 8th Infantry Division. At 8:30 P.M. the 3rd Armored Division joined the First Infantry Division and assembled in the vicinity of Liblar.

The Rhine Bridge, the only exit for the Germans, was a touch and go affair. Several German prisoners reported that they had seen the bridge prepared for demolition, and most of them were surprised that the bridge had not been blown already. The bridge was blown at 9:15 pm, 8 March 8 1945, by a Captain of the 6th (German) Engineer Regiment (later captured by the First Division), who had not slept for three days worrying over whether he would be able to blow the bridge at precisely the right moment. He succeeded admirably.

Soon after the destruction ferries, boats and some truck ferries transferred goods and people between both sides. From 29 August 1945, on Bonn's Committee for Urban Planning, the "Bauausschuss", dealt with the construction of a new bridge and released the plans in March 1946. In September 1946 Grün and Bilfinger started with the construction. The bridge was built on the nearly intact pillows within 36 months. On 12 November 1949 the new bridge was opened. On December 2, 1963, just ten days after the assassination of U.S. President John F. Kennedy the bridge was renamed to "Kennedy Bridge". Necessary reconstruction and widening of the bridge was begun in 2006 and is now complete.

Print of Rhine Bridge as it Looked in 1945


Photo of Rhine Bridge in 1920


Kennedy Bridge Today