My Klepper Boat (Fold Boat)
World War II had ended, and it was a beautiful summer weekend. My home in the City of Darmstadt ended up being in the American occupied sector. Our group from the surrounding area had not been to the Rhine River to check on our club house and the big hanger for our fold boat storage since 1944, when the Allied Troops were close enough across the Rhine River to reach our side with their artillery.
It is about a two-hour ride by bike from Darmstadt to the boat club outside the town of Goddelau right by the Rhine River. It was a large structure like an airline hangar with racks and racks filled with fold boats, paddle boats and gear during off season and a beautiful club house. It had a big dance floor, surrounded by round tables and chairs. At the end of this large room was the stage and a beautiful Grand Piano. The clubhouse was for different functions, celebrations, award ceremonies, opening season etc.
About six of us boat owners got together and started our journey to the Rhine and with proper papers, like an ID with picture and our home address, should we get stopped on the way by American MP’s and occupation forces we should be able to get there and to enter the buildings. Hopefully the ramp for getting us into the river with our boats was not destroyed and survived the fighting right by a bridge where the Allied troops came across. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, the war was over, and the sun was shining.
As we entered the area around the club house, our manager who lives close to the compound saw us and came out, running toward us. Out of breath he told us we should be prepared for an unbelievable sight. We entered still in a good frame of mind, that our manager was overstating it, after all it was a war.
The tables and chairs were destroyed, laid there like kindling. On top of the beautiful, black and shiny Grand piano a rather deep swastika was carved.
The boathouse looked like a big tank went through. The shelving was still intact, but the canvas’ of the foldboats were all cut-up and the frames destroyed. 1945 might have brought about the end of a terrible war, but also the end of civilization as we had known it. It was the end of a wonderful sport, camaraderie, the Rhine River with its fast-moving blue water, the idyllic cove with a large meadow we used to take a break from paddling and had wonderful conversations along with our lunches in this most beautiful surrounding of this area. Amid a horrendous war, it was a sanctuary.
We left, said our goodbye to the manager/caretaker and on our way home stopped at a bakery for a rest, food and plans for our future. We talked of organizing a fund drive and begin clean-up and repairs. Most of the owners had insurance. Soon it looked so fresh and new, and we had hope again. But no grand Piano yet.
When my father returned from the prisoner-of-war camp in Siberia, he made it a wonderful gift to the club, a grand Piano.
It just takes time to pick up the pieces. Like it has taken time to want to live again.
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