Read Letters and Papers From Prison Online
Authors: Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Tags: #Literary Collections, #General
Your Eberhard
Winfried Maechler wrote for my birthday. He’s been in a military hospital since July and has therefore been preserved from the worst developments in France. The splendid meditation on the readings has just come. Many thanks for it …
From Eberhard Bethge
[S.Polo d’Enza] 21 September [1944]
Dear Dietrich,
What will you think of me! I don’t know what to do, as I’ve been given such violently conflicting advice.
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But perhaps it’s superfluous. So I haven’t said anything about the poem on friendship, which particularly attracted me … Could you omit the ‘lovely’ in the line ‘the lovely cornflowers thrive’, as at that point you suddenly move from a continuous viewpoint into a value judgment? All that follows about it says it better and at greater length. Afterwards, ‘blossom is lovely, too’ is different. Perhaps, too, the superlatives ‘Finest and rarest blossom’ are unnecessary? The occasional over-short and over-long lines match the very thoughtful content well. Anyway, it was a unique form of birthday celebration and I can only say in return that it has been a great source of strength for the others to see how the threats to your situation lead to such concentration. Many, many thanks …
You took the death of Moses as a subject? It interests me very much that you say ‘in verse’, as otherwise it would have been too explosive! …
Horst Thurmann’s
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wife wrote to me very nicely that he sent you warmest greetings. After a letter from Fritz, A. Schönherr has to be sought in my direction, as has Otto Kunze. When I pulled his leg about his work being ‘i’église c’est moi’, he wrote about collaboration on all sides from Gehlhoff, Lutschewitz, Knorr, de Boor, Block, Kehrl, Strecker, Rendtorff (who, by the way, often drops a short note to me in his capacity as director of the People’s Mission Bible Weeks), Frau Ohnesorge and Sup. Krause. But on the whole it all seems too optimistic to me. August Tetsch is a lieutenant, has a second child, is in Russia; Jensen (also a second child) in Lyons, as is Otto Range, Gerh. Krause (small daughter) by the Pleskauer See, Eugen Rose (of whom Rainalter tells nice stories from their time at the interpreters’ school) is an Indian interpreter in France. Voelz (little son) is at the front after a long time in a garrison, as is Wolfg. Schmidt, having often been with Walter Schmidt in Saxony. Wapler wrote to him in the middle of June, but is now missing in Russia. Karl Ferdinand Müller has another son (Sebastian, of course), Willi Rott is still in Athens, a short while ago he had special leave. W. Kärgel is still home guard in Prenzlau. Derschau and K. H. Reimer in Bojak’s home country. Bernh. Onnasch wounded in Weimar. Fritz Vater very fit and serviceable. St. Jakobi in Stettin has collapsed. Fritz is leader of a group of air-raid wardens with the Stahlhelm in Stettin, his house in Stettin is continually filled up with casualties. He sent me a sermon from Marahrens’ former adjutant … The poorest one has vanished, as have the two in the church office for foreign affairs.
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Only Pompe is still there. I heard that from Lokies.
Things are still going remarkably well with us here. But there has been shooting by the partisans, and the Lieutenant (unfortunately the Major has been transferred) makes us mad with foolish reconnaissances and other such things. Ecclesiasticus 13.11.
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He’s all too fond of involving me in long conversations; he eats with us and lectures us constantly; the atmosphere has lost much of its freedom as a result. Some time there will certainly be a row (not with me). He recently forced me to give a lecture and presumably thought that it was going to be some sort of sermon; I refused that,
and talked about India, which I still remembered a bit about; he’s as old as I am, with an addiction to commerce. We’re now very expectant about when the move will take place and how we shall cross the Po.
Very many greetings and thanks. You will understand my silence. It’s quite dreadful for me. With loyal thoughts,
your Eberhard.
30 September
Another ten days have passed, and I kept waiting for something from you. Moses
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came yesterday, and today the letter with the ‘abstract concept of the future’. With it were the fifteen letters from Renate which have been missing for so long.
I’m really
very
sorry to have been silent for so long, but it was the result of really urgent thoughts. Now, however, I shall break silence again. Did you get my letter of the 28th? You don’t seem to have done … Many thanks for Moses. I got it yesterday evening before going on guard and read it afterwards; it moved me very much, but I’m not sure what to make of it. The language is fine, but with the fetters of the rhyme it didn’t seem quite like your other things … I haven’t come across anything that seems to me to need alteration. Once again we’re living in a great pause. I find your thoughts about the future bold and perhaps even comforting. This letter ought to go now, so that you hear something at last.
Many greetings.
Your Eberhard
If only I could tell you of my latest spiritual and worldly experiences!
JONAH
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In fear of death they cried aloud and, clinging fast
to wet ropes straining on the battered deck,
they gazed in stricken terror at the sea
that now, unchained in sudden fury, lashed the ship.
‘O gods eternal, excellent, provoked to anger,
help us, or give a sign, that we may know
who has offended you by secret sin,
by breach of oath, or heedless blasphemy, or murder,
who brings us to disaster by misdeed still hidden,
to make a paltry profit for his pride.’
Thus they besought. And Jonah said, ‘Behold,
I sinned before the Lord of hosts. My life is forfeit.
Cast me away! My guilt must bear the wrath of God;
the righteous shall not perish with the sinner!’
They trembled. But with hands that knew no weakness
they cast the offender from their midst. The sea stood still.
To his mother
Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse]
28 December 1944
Dear mother,
I’m so glad to have just got permission to write you a birthday letter. I have to write in some haste, as the post is just going. All I really want to do is to help to cheer you a little in these days that you must be finding so bleak. Dear mother, I want you to know that I am constantly thinking of you and father every day, and that I thank God for all that you are to me and the whole family. I know you’ve always lived for us and haven’t lived a life of your own. That is why you’re the only one with whom I can share all that I’m going through. It’s a very great comfort to me that Maria is with you. Thank you for all the love that has come to me in my cell from you during the past year, and has made every day easier for me. I think these hard years have brought us closer together than we ever were before. My wish for you and father and Maria and for us all is that the New Year may bring us at least an occasional glimmer of light, and that we may once more have the joy of being together. May God keep you both well.
With most loving wishes, dear, dear mother, for a happy birthday. Your grateful Dietrich
POWERS OF GOOD
With every power for good to stay and guide me,
comforted and inspired beyond all fear,
I’ll live these days with you in thought beside me,
and pass, with you, into the coming year.
The old year still torments our hearts, unhastening;
the long days of our sorrow still endure;
Father, grant to the souls thou hast been chastening
that thou hast promised, the healing and the cure.
Should it be ours to drain the cup of grieving
even to the dregs of pain, at thy command,
we will not falter, thankfully receiving
all that is given by thy loving hand.
But should it be thy will once more to release us
to life’s enjoyment and its good sunshine,
that which we’ve learned from sorrow shall increase us,
and all our life be dedicate as thine.
Today, let candles shed their radiant greeting;
lo, on our darkness are they not thy light
leading us, haply, to our longed-for meeting? -
Thou canst illumine even our darkest night.
When now the silence deepens for our hearkening,
grant we may hear thy children’s voices raise
from all the unseen world around us darkening
their universal paean, in thy praise.
While all the powers of good aid and attend us,
boldly we’ll face the future, come what may.
At even and at morn God will befriend us,
and oh, most surely on each newborn day!
To his parents
[Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse]
17 January 1945
Dear parents,
I’m also writing today because of the People’s Sacrifice.
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I would like to ask you to take complete control of my things. I’m told that even a dinner jacket would be accepted; please give mine away; also a ‘pepper and salt’ suit which is too small for me and a pair of brown shoes; you, mother, now know better than I do what I still have.
In short, give away whatever anyone might need, and don’t give it another thought.
If you have any doubts about anything, you might perhaps telephone Commissar Sonderegger! The last two years have taught me how little we can get along with … In the inactivity of a long imprisonment one has above all a great need to do whatever is possible for the general good within the narrow limits that are imposed. You’ll be able to understand that. When one thinks how many people lose everything each day, one really has no claim on possessions of any kind. I know that you think the same way, and only want to play my part. Is Hans-Walter actually flying in the East now? And Renate’s husband? Thank you very much for your letter, and thank Maria
very
much for her Christmas letter! I read my letters here till I know them by heart.
Now for a few more requests: unfortunately there were no books handed in here for me today; Commissar Sonderegger would be willing to accept them every now and then if Maria could bring them. I should be very grateful for them. There were no matches, face-cloths, or towel this time. Excuse my mentioning that; everything else was splendid. Could I please have some tooth-paste and a few coffee beans? Father, could you get me from the library
Lienhard
and
Abendstunden eines Einsiedlers
by
H. Pestalozzi,
Sozialp
ä
dagogik
by P. Natorp, and Plutarch’s
Lives of Great Men?
I’m getting on all right. Do keep well. Many thanks for everything.
With all my heart, your grateful Dietrich
Please leave some writing paper with the Commissar!
From his father
[Charlottenburg] 2 February 1945
Dear Dietrich,
To make things easier for the censor, I’m writing this birthday letter with the typewriter. I hope that you can receive it. Of course, it would be better if we could visit you. We don’t need to tell you what we wish for you and for this new year of your life. Our thoughts are with you every day in any case, but the day after tomorrow they will be especially so. Maria will be thinking of you particularly. She has gone with her little sister to relatives, and therefore isn’t here at present. Aunt Elisabeth has gone to Warm-brunn. Suse is here with her children and wants to stay if possible. Hans-Walter is in the West.
Unfortunately I’ve had no luck with the library. Pestalozzi was only issued for the reading room; why, I don’t know, but I will ask a library assistant I know. Natorp is out. Karl-Friedrich had thought of the Plutarch for you for your birthday. Only the cakes come from us. Maria will certainly be very sorry that she can’t bring anything herself. Whatever happens, we two old ones want to stay here. As a doctor, there is always a chance that I can help someone, and mother has to help me. I’m hoping that I shall be able to visit you soon. At my age one has an obligation to regulate one’s concerns as far as possible …
Affectionate greetings. The memory of many good things that you have experienced and the hope of a near end to your time of trial will make your birthday tolerable for you.
Your Father
Front hisfather
[Charlottenburg] 7 February 1945
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Dear Dietrich,
Because of the attack, our birthday letter for the 4th, which we wanted to bring on Saturday, didn’t get into your hands. We sat in Anhalt station in the S-Bahn during the attack; it wasn’t very attractive. Nothing happened, except that afterwards we looked like chimney-sweeps. Afterwards, however, when we tried to visit you, we were very disturbed because we weren’t allowed in because of the blind shells. The next day we heard that nothing had happened to the prisoners. We hope that that is true.
Now about the family. Maria has gone with her sister from Pätzig to the West. Aunt Elisabeth is in Warmbrunn. Suse is here with the children and wants to remain here. Hans-Walter is in the West. Unfortunately I had no luck at the library. Pestalozzi is issued only for the reading room. Natorp is out. Karl-Friedrich had thought of the Plutarch for you for your birthday. I hope this letter reaches you. We hope that we shall be able to visit you soon. At our age some things have to be arranged which need discussion with our children. I’m writing this on a typewriter to make it more legible. Affectionate greetings.
Your Father
From Maria von Wedemeyer to her mother
Flossenbürg, 19 February 1945
Dear mother,
Unfortunately my whole journey to Bundorf and Flossenbiirg has been completely unsuccessful. Dietrich just isn’t there. Who knows where he is? In Berlin they wouldn’t tell me anything, and in Flossenbiirg they don’t know. Quite a hopeless business. But what am I to do now? If I remain in Berlin, our Pätzig
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friends will come and that’s no help to Dietrich! If I arrive too early, I shall be called up into the anti-aircraft force or who knows what? If I stay in Bundorf, I’m so awfully far from you all and I don’t know how I shall be able to get back to you. I really think that there’s relatively little sense in going back to Berlin now. If I can’t even do
anything for Dietrich any more … I’ve got a touch of the screaming miseries, but that’s only because I’ve spent two days now on the train, had to walk seven kilometres today and then seven kilometres back again without any prospect. And now it will probably be two days again before I’m back in Bundorf… I’m sure you’ve written, but it hasn’t come. What’s the news of Hans-Werner? Love and kisses to everyone, and especially to my fugitive.