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2007-06-19 issue:

A child of war

The victim meets his bombers

by Jurgen Schonwetter

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My heart raced and my hands trembled as I took off in my van after the last delivery that day of Meals on Wheels in Abbotsford, B.C. I had just delivered a hot meal to the home of an 88-year-old Canadian veteran.

It was a lovely home. I rang the door bell. I rang it again. The door opened and a healthy-looking man, a widower, I discovered, greeted me, friendly after I said, “Mr. X [to keep confidentiality] I have a hot meal for you.”

Photo: WWII Collection, Mennonite Church USA Archives—Goshen, Ind.

While he took the meal in its styrofoam container to his kitchen, I fixed my eyes on the feature wall of the entrance. It was adorned with a large photograph of a World War II British fighter plane. A large group of soldiers were posing. On the white edges of the framed picture were handwritten signatures.

When Mr. X returned with the empty container, I talked with him about the picture. He proudly explained that he was a member of the Canadian Royal Air Force in joined military campaigns with British and U.S. forces. He survived a number of 8½-hour round-trip missions in bombing raids over Germany. He named some major cities he helped bomb. Mr. X was a gunner and expert in opening the bomb chambers at specific times and at high altitudes. He smiled when he recalled having been personally honored with a medal for bravery by King George of Great Britain. He also had on display in his basement personal letters of commendation from the famous “Bomber Harris,” the military chief responsible for all Allied bombing raids over Germany during World War II.

I could not resist saying to him, without the slightest emotion, “Mr. X, did you know that I was a 7-year-old child at the other end of your bomb chambers?” The old man was speechless.

I left with a friendly greeting.

Driving back to Abbotsford Community Services, I told my supervisor what had happened. She was amazed. “I have never heard anything like that before.”

I asked to continue serving this veteran with a regular hot meal. “It is a challenge to me, particularly as a follower of Christ.”

This incident triggered my memory. Years earlier, with a bachelor’s degree in my pocket, I left for Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary in Elkhart, Ind. I had to be a full-time seminary student to qualify my stay in the United States. Yet I needed an income to pay for tuition and family expenses. I took on part-time pastorates of two EUB [Evangelical United Brethren] churches (these later joined others to form the United Methodist Church). For me it was either serving two or no churches. There were no Mennonite churches who needed a part-time pastor.

The churches, eight miles apart and 40 miles from the seminary, prepared a banquet to which they invited the towns’ dignitaries. The churches requested a lengthy testimony, more of a biography. I shared my life story, including my traumatic experiences during the Allied bombing raids during World War II over my hometown, Naumburg, a military garrison the Allies tried hard to level to the ground.

Naumburg is close to Dresden. Although Dresden had no military value for the Allies, Naumburg was of significant military importance. We lived on the campus of a four-square-kilometer ammunition dump. Massive bombing raids unleashed three levels of bombings: air-pressure bombs, then high-explosive bombs and finally Napalm bombs. These reached their targets, of which I was one. It’s a miracle I survived in the basement of our apartment building. During the last air raid, all occupants of the apartments located on the ammunition dump were required to enter a special steel-enforced underground bunker in the middle of the campus. My mother, though not a religious woman, heard a voice telling her not to follow our neighbors into the bunker. This special shelter was completely destroyed by several bombs. Not one of the occupants survived.

After the evening, a member of my church council, a man in his late 40s, approached me. He was visibly shaking. “Jurgen, I was one of the U.S. bombers over your city. Can you forgive me?” God had granted me a cleansing and radical erasing of animosity toward “the enemy.”
The following Sunday, I preached about the Isaiah passage of God transforming swords into plowshares (Isaiah 2:1-4). “Years ago,” I said, “some of you saw me as the enemy. Today I am your pastor.” It was a moving experience for the audience—and for me.

Jurgen Schonwetter is a member of Emmanuel Mennonite Church, Abbotsford, B.C.

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