Letters and Papers From Prison (14 page)

At heart I keep hoping day by day that you will not have to go to Tegel so often, and will at last be able to have the holidays that you need so much in peace.

I’ve just been reading the regulation requiring the possession of copper vessels to be reported. This will include my Spanish brassaro; but it should be noted that it is a work of art from the eighteenth century. It is remarkable how indifferent one becomes to such things in our time.

The books of mine that I would very much like to be put in safe keeping are the Vilmar, Schlatter and Calvin, and perhaps also the old pictures in my room; but please do not take too much trouble over them. One can always buy books again afterwards,
and
above all else
you must preserve your strength these days; compared with that, everything else is really quite unimportant.

Meanwhile, Sunday is also almost over, and I face the new week with great expectation.
⁶
I hope, too, that post will soon come from you and Maria. I don’t think I’ve told you that every day, when I get tired of reading and writing, I work on a chess problem; I enjoy it very much. If you come across some good little work on the subject, perhaps with set problems, I should be grateful; but don’t put yourselves out over it; I shall manage all right.

Once again, please give my love to all the family and please let me know soon about all your plans and about everything that you decide. Please discuss with Maria what she thinks about the post, and give her all my love. I’m thinking of you all very much. With many thanks,

Dietrich

From Karl-Friedrich Bonhoeffer

[Leipzig] 8 August 1943

Dear Dietrich,

…I don’t want to keep [the children] here. Instead, on Monday they’re all going into the Harz mountains, to Friedrichsbrunn. I think it’s now time to prepare for air raids, and children don’t belong in the kind of mess produced by a heavy attack. Recently I had my Hamburg colleague
⁷
here at home for a couple of days as a lodger. He arrived with a small suitcase. He had stood the first three heavy attacks in the centre of the city, then had slept for a night outside in the open air and had not returned to the city. So he was washed up in our direction. Now he’s returned again to see to his things. I only hope that Berlin does not get it as long as you are still ‘sitting’ there. But one cannot ignore
the
possibility. Travelling conditions are now the most difficult imaginable, so I limit my official journeys as much as possible and am also in Berlin less often. In these circumstances it’s not a pleasant feeling to separate oneself from the family. One does not know how often we shall be able to see each other. But we mustn’t forget that
there are only a very few families in Europe today who have been able to keep together this far, and be grateful that we have managed up till now. What the future will be like is in any case beyond human foretelling…

All the best. Don’t lose patience. We all hope very much that we shall see you soon.

Your Karl-Friedrich

From his mother

Charlottenburg, 11 August 1943

Dear Dietrich,

…Your most important books have now been brought down from the attic into the cellar, and yesterday also your gramophone and the records. The Durer prints are outside. Of course we missed your planning and your help very much…

We had such a warm and friendly invitation into the country from Maria’s mother, for ourselves or any of the grandchildren. But we don’t want to go until your case has been cleared up. If it gets too chaotic we shall perhaps sleep outside.
⁸
Father doesn’t want to leave his work, despite his seventy-five years. He will only agree to the film for ‘the personalities’ that the propaganda ministry wants to make of him when his children are no longer in prison, and I can understand that. If the attacks come, look after yourself, too, as well as you can. Make sure that you get a helmet and have enough water to dampen a towel which you should make into a hood and put over your head; get your blanket from your room, make it wet and wrap it round you and make your shoes, etc. wet; that is said to be the most important thing if one has to go through fire. On Sunday we were with Paul von Hase
⁹
and his wife at such a display of phosphorus bombs. There are more attractive things. I had a very nice letter from Maria. You will gel; a dear, brave wife and that is a great joy to us. She wanted to come to Berlin now that she has finished her cure there, but I dissuaded her strongly; I don’t think her mother will allow it. She: wants to help me, but if she came I would just have one more: worry…

Now may God continue to bless you and bring us all together in his grace. Father and I are always thinking of you.

Your Mother

To his parents

[Tegel] 17 August 1943

Dear parents,

I’m enclosing an authority for Rüdiger, in case he can still arrange it; I expect that you will have heard from him in the meantime. Of course, I will understand if he does not want to go away as far as Berlin for such a matter, especially at present and with ten children to look after. But you will probably have talked with him about Dr Wergin.
¹⁰

The hour with you yesterday was again indescribably beautiful; thank you very much indeed for coming. I think that you especially, father, could look a bit better than you do. Why don’t you do as I do for a while, and go to sleep at 8.00 p.m. or, failing that, at 9.00 p.m., and have a good rest in the afternoon into the bargain? All your work, the inadequate food, disturbed nights and on top of everything your worry about me - it’s too much. It’s for that reason in particular that I’m so troubled by the continual postponement of the decision. In more normal times, four weeks is nothing, but in these uncertain times, with the threat of the bombs, every day is long. Still, as one may assume that the speediest settlement possible must be to everyone’s advantage, I’m quietly hoping that we shall come to the end even more quickly. Above all, please don’t worry about me more than you can help. I’m keeping my end up, and my mind is quite calm. What a good thing it is to know from previous experience that we are really not upset at all by air raids. I’m very glad that Dr Roeder’s courts are to stay in Berlin.
¹¹
I imagine that for men in responsible positions it is not a very attractive proposition to go out of Berlin now. Anyway, you - like myself - have something better to do than to be thinking all the time about possible raids. Prison life
gives one, almost as a matter of course, a certain detachment from the actions and excitements of the day.

I forgot to mention the birthdays on the 22nd
¹²
and the 28th.
¹³
I would very much like to do something for Susi, who has so often had trouble with my parcel, but the only thing that I can think of is a last bottle of sweet wine, which I have and would very much like to give her. The Schleichers would probably like the new one-volume Bible, bound in thick, light-brown leather, which is in the air-raid shelter; please put it on the birthday table and tell them both that I am thinking of them with affectionate best wishes. How much I would love to be there! But this trial of my patience is still not at an end. As long as one doesn’t lose sight of the greater issues in these small disappointments that one keeps on experiencing, one soon sees how trivial one’s own personal privations are.

For the last fortnight I’ve been waiting in such uncertainty day by day
¹⁴
that I’ve hardly felt equal to any serious work; but I’m going to try now to get down to some more writing. Some weeks ago I sketched the outlines of a play,
¹⁵
but meanwhile I’ve realized that the material is not suitable for drama; and so I shall now try to rewrite it as a story. It’s about the life of a family, and of course there is a good deal of autobiography mixed up in it.

I would very much like some rough paper and my watch; the other one suddenly stopped yesterday. It’s going again now, but it’s too risky for me suddenly to be left without a watch. And please could you buy me N. Hartmann’s
Systematic Philosophy,
Verlag Kohlhammer 1943. I can now use the personal library here, which has all sorts of good things, so I need less from you. But if you can dig out Stifter’s
Witiko,
that would be splendid. - I was very touched when the Schleichers sent me the rabbit liver a little while ago. A real piece of meat is very welcome in all this spoon-fodder; I’m also very grateful to them for biscuits, peaches and cigarettes. Do you by any chance still have a spot of tea? I can occasionally get boiling water here.

The death of the three young pastors
¹⁶
grieves me very much. I should be grateful if their relatives could be told in some way that I cannot write to them now; otherwise they would not understand
my not doing so. Of all my pupils, those three were closest to me. It’s a great loss, both for me personally and for the church. More than thirty of my pupils must have fallen by now, and most of them were among my best.

I’m again very grateful to Karl-Friedrich for his letter; they’re always especially nice. Hans-Christoph
¹⁷
also wrote very nicely about my engagement, but he does so as though it had already been published. Perhaps someone should tell uncle Hans that that hasn’t happened yet. There is no greater delight here in my cell than letters.

I quite forgot to ask after uncle Paul.
¹⁸
Have you really expressed my sympathy after the death of his mother? Do give him my kindest regards.

Once again, thank you for everything. The day when we shall meet again in freedom gets closer and closer, and it will be one of those days which we shall never forget all our lives. Many greetings to all the family. Write again soon. The next letter is going to Maria again.

I’m always thinking of you.

Your grateful Dietrich

From his mother

[Sakrow] 22 August 1943

My dear Dietrich,

We’ve just come out again over the weekend and are sitting on deck-chairs by the water enjoying the stillness. With moving in the house and getting some things out before the air raids that are expected, we’ve had a great deal to do recently. Father’s books and your most important books are now in the air-raid shelter and the store room, and a number of your portfolios and belles-lettres are with father’s on the shelves that have become empty. Your wardrobe upstairs is quite empty. I sent another parcel to Pátzig and brought yet another out here. Our walls, too, are almost completely empty. We have taken many pictures out of their frames and the frames are in the garage. Similarly, all the good carpets have been taken away. You wouldn’t like the house
now. Neither do I! But what’s the use? One does what one can. Otherwise we’re waiting…

God bless you and all of us in this difficult and uncertain time.

Your Mother

To his parents

[Tegel]24 August 1943

Dear parents,

Well, you had a rough passage last night. I was very relieved when the Captain sent word to me that you were all right. My cell is high up, and the window is kept wide open during alerts, so one has a very clear view of the ghastly firework display on the south side of the city; and without the least feeling of anxiety for myself, I do feel most strongly at such times how utterly absurd it is for me to be kept waiting here doing nothing. I thought the
Brüdergemeinde
text for this morning was most appropriate: ‘And I will give peace in the land, and you shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid.’
¹⁹

On Sunday night I stupidly got gastric catarrh; yesterday I had a temperature, 38, but today it is normal again. I’ve only just got up to write this letter, and shall be going straight back to bed as a precaution; I don’t want to be ill on any account.
²⁰
As such cases are not catered for here, I was very glad of your rusks and a packet of biscuits that I kept by me for emergencies. A medical orderly also gave me some of his white bread, so I am getting along quite well. One ought to have something of the kind here in case of need, and perhaps also a small packet of semolina or oat flakes, which could be cooked in the sick bay. By the time you get this letter, it will all be over and done with.

Thank you very much, mother, for your letter of the 11th, which arrived yesterday, the 23rd. It’s perhaps quite a good thing that you saw such a display with uncle Paul Hase. In these days he will have his hands full as city commandant. Letters also came yesterday from Maria and her mother while I was lying in bed. That was particularly cheering. I’m really very pleased that Maria
has offered you help, mother. I cannot decide from here whether you should have refused it. It’s so difficult to put oneself completely in the situation. I keep trying to do it, but I don’t know enough of the details.

I’ve been able to work very well again during the last week, and was in full swing when this stupid interruption occurred. Incidentally, I’m reading the
Microbe Hunters
with great pleasure; as K. Friedrich sent it, I assume that it is scientifically reliable. It’s a very impressive history of research. - Well, I really can’t think of anything else to write, so I’ll lie down again. Can I ask you again for some
envelopes’?
I’ve only three left. Please don’t let the letter worry you. I didn’t want to miss it, even if it is rather shorter. I shall definitely be better by the day after tomorrow. Greetings once again to the birthday children. Tell them how much I’m thinking of them and how I would love to be there. With love to you and the whole family.