This year we have been celebrating the 80th year of the beginning of the end of World War II. D-Day occurred on 6 June,1944. The United States of America began to liberate Europe from Nazi Germany. Voices of liberty and freedom sustain the memories of those days.
In that eventful year, 1944, I was three years old. We lived in East Germany, in a little city called Hirschberg, Southeast of Dresden. Twice my father was deployed to Russia as an infantry soldier, forced to fight in a war that he hated from its first day. His brother was shot and killed in 1939. There was little hope for my father’s return from Russia. Miraculously, he made it back after having been shot in the knee.
In 1944, I was injured with a small grenade and lost all vision in my left eye. My body healed from shrapnel wounds, but my eyesight did not return. Ironically and unpredictably, reading and writing with one eye at a slow pace became my profession. It is still a challenge today to read the many articles of my colleagues.
My mother was protected and (miraculously) was able to nurture three boys through six years of war. A Polish soldier, technically the enemy, protected us in our home while my father was forced to face the ugly days of defeat. In the last year, 1944-1945, my father Kurt spent most days away from home to find food for us wherever and whenever he could through bargaining with his artistic skills as a sculptor.
In 1945, our family of five fled as refugees to West Germany. By the grace of God, we all stayed together and survived a transport in cattle cars, scrunched together like sardines in a can. As a four-year old, I could hardly breathe as dirty coats and dresses were rubbing my face from all directions. The stench from rotten food and filthy clothes was unbearable.
Many days and nights were spent in refugee camps, waiting for a temporary house assignment in West Germany. Two old ladies in Werdohl-Eveking, near Lüdenscheid, were assigned to take us in. We lived in two small attic rooms as a family of five, with no kitchen and no bathroom. All meals were cold, and toilet use required permission from the owners.
As quickly as possible, my father built a house from scrap materials on a rented lot, fully expecting it to be torn down soon after the post-war refugee crisis days. Miraculously, the house is still standing today, 70 years later. In fact, it has become a historic site in the small village called Altenmühle, as a reminder of the difficult recovery days after WW2.
In 1955, amazingly, we landed safely in America as immigrants, humbled by the fact that thousands of American troops never returned. 2,500 of them gave their lives on D-Day, June 6, 1944, to save the world from tyranny. We were the direct benefactors of that sacrifice.
About 20 years ago, my wife’s father Robert Pittard, who also fought in WW2, took us all to Normandy Beach, where his brother survived a military plane crash into the sea. To give some honor to our troops, I was compelled to climb the embankment at Omaha beach. On a bright day, carrying no armor, with dry clothes, wearing tennis shoes, with no enemy fire, I pulled myself up the embankment by grabbing weeds, bushes, and rocks. I barely made it to the top. How could American troops do it in a wet uniform, carrying armor, at night, facing gunfire head-on? Many did not. We visited the memorial where nearly 10,000 troops are buried. In the life to come, I hope I can embrace one or two of these heroes and thank them.
My message is formed as a question: How many events occur “miraculously” in a person’s life before it is recognized that good fortune alone cannot explain the order of events? A belief of extraordinary intervention emerges. Why were some lives terminated so quickly while others were preserved by their sacrifice? How can I express my gratitude to those who gave all? What more can I do to preserve freedom and divine guidance of a nation? In the least, my voice must become louder after 80 years.
As an immigrant and naturalized U.S. citizen, my voice does get louder for the love of my adopted country, and for those who fought for it. I am saddened by some who disrespect this great nation, knowing little about other nations. Some come to partake, but only to change our culture to the one from which they escaped.
Twenty years from now, all voices regarding WW2 will come only from history books, not from people who speak from personal experience. Let me therefore shout for America while I can, not only on Veterans Day and Memorial Day, but every day.
Thank you for sharing this history. Your life has been an amazing journey!
Dr Titze,
Thank you.
Sheila Converse
This is such a touching and beautiful tribute as we remember Veterans Day. Thank you, Dr. Titze.
Thank you for telling your story, Dr. Titze
Dr. Titze, thank you for sharing this with us on this important day. I marvel at what you and your family went through to survive in those times of War.
Patricia Sands NCVS 2014 and University of Iowa 1984 Voice BM
Wonderful wise words Ingo, you are much loved by all the voice community and many more, thank you and your family for all you have done for us.
What a beautiful tribute to your family, the men and women who sacrificed so much for our freedom, and to the country we love! Terri and I just returned from Europe where we followed the path of the Band of Brothers through their operations throughout seven different countries. Heroes all! It was the most emotional two weeks of our lives. NEVER FORGET! God Bless America!
Your story is amazing, Ingo. Thank you for this lovely tribute.
Ingo, Thank you so very much for sharing this personal story! I am inspired by your commentary and I am so very grateful for the sacrifices made by our Veterans that make it possible to enjoy the freedoms we have today. We must never forget.
Thank you for this. I will pass it on to all in my sphere of influence!
Dr. Titze, thank you for sharing your story. I share my gratitude for those who have fought and those who continue to fight for our country, efforts great and small. Diana
Thank you Ingo, and for everyone who helped you and your family. The world of voice would be significantly diminished without your persistence.
Hugs and love,
Linda Carroll
I very much appreciated your article. I hope all of us continue to love our country, and to keep democracy safe!
Thanks for this essay, Dr. Titze. May we never forget the sacrifices made for freedom and democracy.
What an inspirational essay, filled with such undeniable truths. Thank you for sharing your story, Dr. Tiitze. I join you in ‘shouting honor’ to America and her valiant Veterans today and always!
Thank you for using your voice to tell your story. I am deeply moved by the hardships you and your family faced and by the quiet, steady strength and ever-present kindness that emerged. You embody the best of America’s values and you and your family continue to inspire countless people.
Dr. Titze, thank you for this wonderful gift. I will share it with as many people as possible. Blessings to you,
Emily Raasch
I have to say that the way you question the miracles and interventions in life resonates deeply. Indeed, there are moments where it feels like only divine providence could have guided events toward preservation and hope. Recognizing this makes our gratitude even more powerful and our responsibilities greater.
Thanks Titze
Gerson Albuquerque da Silva
Thank you. I had no idea. I have always admired your work.
Thank you, Ingo, for writing about your hardship lived as a boy in the midst of the horrors of WWII.
America is still a highly desired international haven for the dispossessed, and the gifting of American citizenship continues as the gold standard in a blackening world.
It is just to remember that the bedrock of America rests on those who have rendered the ultimate sacrifice for our freedoms.
Thank you for giving us your memories. Born after WWII I still have much to learn about my country. Thank you for your enlightenment. MKMcGarvey
Thank you for giving us your memories. Born after WWII I still have much to learn about my country. Thank you for your enlightenment