Wartime Weilheim

Delving into some family history, we took a side trip to Weilheim in Oberbayern on our way from Rothenburg to Hohenschwangau. While this may seem like a simple little town, just southwest of Munich, it was more important to our family lore on my dad’s side growing up. This seemed like an opportune time to show the girls a bit about our family history.

From my grandmother’s stories growing up, my dad and uncle crafted several first-hand accounts over the years for various purposes. About a decade ago, after my grandmother died, I took some time to consolidate these accounts into a consistent narrative, asking my dad to help fill in the gaps to the best of his knowledge. Part of my grandmother’s story took place in Weilheim, which was her first labour arrangement in Germany when the Nazis took her from her home in Ukraine while she was still a teenager.

As part of my research, I located a villa in the archives that I believe is the house my grandmother worked at during this period. From her description and seeing the house, I think her account and the name of the family she was boarding with match.

Weilheim is located in the foothills of the Alps, which would be somewhat similar to the Carpathian Mountains my grandmother would have grown up near in Ukraine. It is a gorgeous little town by our account and we would have loved more time to explore its charm. Perhaps another time!

While now on an urban road on the outskirts of Weilheim, this villa used to be a working farm and my grandmother was expected to both keep the house and tend to the farm during her long days there. It was there that this first family abused her and practically starved her, even though she was given a ration card during the war. Unfortunately, she developed a severe infection while working on the farm and ultimately ended up in a hospital while Allied bombs flew all around her. Thankfully, her second family treated her well until the end of World War II when she was liberated and spent several years in a displaced persons camp in Munich before eventually immigrating to Canada.

When we arrived in Weilheim, we settled in a nearby café for a coffee break. While Micheka and the girls finished their snack, I circumnavigated the area to find a good public vantage point of the property. Lucky for me, there was an access road right next to it. The house is still in amazing shape and features many murals on its sides, visible from three of its sides. I took as many photos as possible (likely too many!) for posterity’s sake, to capture this piece of family history. One irony (more research required) is that I found evidence that this building may be affiliated with the local Waldorf school, which is interesting given the school our girls attend back home in Canada.

Before departing the café, the owner asked us what brought us to Weilheim. We responded that we were from Canada and just passing through to experience some family history and noted the villa down the road. While we were tactful about the situation, she did ask us if my grandmother’s story and labour in the town were a good experience. We did honestly share that it was not but that it was important to learn about family history. She was very gracious and I’m sure many Germans have to deal with the Nazi past of the country. She concluded by giving us the remainder of their Eggnog Loaf as a present for Christmas (they were about to close for the holidays) and refused further payment from us for that treat.

As we departed from this experience, I think that one sentiment struck me the most: How can a place of such awe and beauty come to contain such evil?