Man Inhumanity towards Man eBook Ursula FrankPegg
Download As PDF : Man Inhumanity towards Man eBook Ursula FrankPegg 
War at times is still in my thoughts, in my dreams. . Once you have experienced it, particularly as a teenager, at the most vulnerable age, it becomes the foundation of your life. I have known it all hunger, poverty, homelessness, above all fear in its most Horrible form, i have seen its deadly grin. And in the midst of the destruction of the city where i was born and raised, the question of "why" has always been on my mind - why does mankind bent to the few, who lead them upon a bloody trail, deeper and deeper to a river of blood, where the waves swirl only in one direction, forward - no matter where it leads to. As the waves carry the men along on their crest, a return seems almost impossible. The sign posts on the River bank carry the warnings in big letters "stop, turn back! Destruction is Contagious - it leads to further destruction, it swallows hardened men in its wake and leaves women and children crying by the river bank. Above all, the Fortunes of war cannot be controlled, only the beginning, but not the end. Yet mankind has hardly recovered from one war, when it embraces another one, giving scant thought to the evil that is called forth. Was not world war ii the war to end all wars?
Man Inhumanity towards Man eBook Ursula FrankPegg
This book is a good example of why we want to keep war out of America. Every one in this country should read this book to see what can happen to normal happy human beings when a dictator takes over and does not give a damn what pain and loss he can do to his country..Hitler was a sick egoistic monster who made the rules and you better lived by them. You just can't imagine how bombed out people had to survive with nothing but their clothes on their backs after air raids .I know I lived in that war as well.
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Man Inhumanity towards Man eBook Ursula FrankPegg Reviews
Two people sit in front of the luminous window of a diner late one night; they share an intimate conversation filled with the savor of life. A man in a car drives past that window and catches a quick glimpse of the two, as though placed in the rectangular screen of a cinema. His loneliness makes him guess what the two discuss. The envious voyeur walking past the same window sees the rapt couple and his envy determines a wholly different story. A moment later an optimist whistles by and sees the same two people bent in their profound confidence. She too reaches an understanding of the scene the duo is playing out. And each of them-- the lonely man, the voyeur, the optimist--each of them draw a different conclusion about what brings the two together in that diner at that hour and in that conversation. The author of this book reckons on the kindness of time; she says as much. She revisits her memories of a war-torn Germany and revives them. But far from being a story of depredation, the author is genuinely the optimist. Falling bombs and the specter of death offer no deterrence to the generous humanism of her observational skills.
Ursula Frank-Pegg begins her book by noting the enormous, the stunning, yes, the life-altering losses surrounding her. In one fell swoop she loses her childhood home and her beloved father. But it is through these twin losses and the repeated wounds and ravages of war that an author is born into the world. Only in her teens at the time of World War II, the young Ursula, usually in the company of her mother, undertakes a peripatetic existence where any "home" is but a temporary affair; no more than a crawlspace sized attic or the narrow cot of a cold nunnery. By dint of circumstances, she is always on the move - sometimes literally on the run from screaming peril looming in the skies above. And like the vagabond war makes of her, the author meets many people along her way, often for the briefest - but most emotionally fraught -moments of time. These brief meetings lead to the sketches of life that fill the book in precisely the same manner as a talented artist, who quickly captures the marvels he sees on a journey to an exotic land, through deft strokes of his charcoal and pen. Somehow in the midst of ruins, life continues. The author, the hero of this autobiography, keeps smiling, finding friends (as well as her share of small noxious persons made even pettier by deprivation) and in one glorious moment the love of her life, who, like so many other characters, slips by like a face caught through the passing window of a train. (It is exemplary of the poetry of this book that the author's first kiss in a shadowy room is captured by a reflection in a darkened mirror; an apt metaphor for the work of memory if ever there was one.) And like the wheels of the train or bicycle that convey her ever forward, she remains unconquerable. If one can't say that war is necessarily what brought this young girl into blossom, it can be said that war is what sets the events taking place and the fleeting relationships forged and then undone into a high relief that allows their vividness to shine forth.
The prose of the book perfectly expresses the author's youthful adventuring. She sets forward events and things in the breathless voice of a teenaged girl discovering the myriad mysteries of life in the most unlikely of circumstances. Even in revisiting these events decades later the author imbues her words with the enthusiasm of adolescence; an enthusiasm so great that even the dark presence of Hitler and a world war can't truly dampen it. This vivacity is one aspect that makes this little volume such a noteworthy book.
In sum, the book is a most-have for anyone curious about life in Germany during the war years; it also belongs in the repertoire of those books devoted to the indomitability of the human spirit. It restates the notion, with the vigor of a chant life, life, above all, life!
At 85 years of age, the idea of putting my diaries, mental or written by hand, into books, intrigued me. "Or was I too old", I asked myself? Indeed, during the war years in Germany, it was hard to get a hold of enough writing paper to keep up with current events. But my memory was strengtened by my dreams, which have helped me to remember what had been extraordinary in my life.
The war years from 1939 to 1945, which might seem to the reader a very long time, still haunt me, but at he same time bring with them an unexpected clarity. While we believe our memory will fade, the drama, the horror of yesteryear, is as stark as it once was, but it does not depress me, as you might assume. no, it only surprises me again that I survived.
As the time of horror and deprivation is unrolled for the readers, they will be able to decide, if I was lucky or if I am a tragic figure after having gone through WWII .
Undoubtedly it is due to my strong faith and to God's protection that I am still here to tell the tale. And if I have decided to share my memoirs in prose as well as in rhyme see "War Child's Love Song") I must admit it would never have occurred to me that I would write poertry. It just began to flow when I was in my seventies - I simply had to follow its thread. that's why two versions of my war time exist - in prose and rhyme - the latter being meant for the reader, who likes his stories short and compact, without missing the drama of the happenings.
This book is meant as a wake-up call about war - it transcends borders. War calls for victims on both sides. Looking back, I am just one of many victims who somehow were drawn into the spikes of a seemingly never ending wheel that took its merciless turns through a whole continent. The point is that what happened to me in Germany undoubtedly took place in every other country affected by WWII Those who had, often did not want to share with the have-nots. That also belongs to the fortunes of war - so often overlooked. The ones, who were only disturbed by the atmosphere, the fear of losing life or property, often held on to what they kept with an iron fist. of course, i met a lot of good people - i got around - I became one of the new Gypsies of the Third Reich, while the real Gypsies had been swallowed up, just like the Jewish people, by the merciless machine set to work in Hitler's Reich.
I must admit that it feels good to share my tale and ask the question "Can you imagine that this would happen to you?
Excellent story written by a German woman who experienced the WWII in Germany. It is difficult for those of us who were not there to understand how the people survived. This true story tells us how. Well written, I love all of Ursula Pegg' s book.
This book is a good example of why we want to keep war out of America. Every one in this country should read this book to see what can happen to normal happy human beings when a dictator takes over and does not give a damn what pain and loss he can do to his country..
Hitler was a sick egoistic monster who made the rules and you better lived by them. You just can't imagine how bombed out people had to survive with nothing but their clothes on their backs after air raids .I know I lived in that war as well.
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