Sister Clara Foeckersperger reflects on her experience living under the Hitler Regime in Germany to surviving and ministering for six years in war-torn England. This reflection is excerpted from the publication, “Enlarge the Space of your Tent,” compiled by Sister Victoria Wiethaler in 2003.
Sister Clara was born in 1908 in Vilsbiburg, Bavaria. She recalls, "At thirteen, I went to Weichs to study for two years, then to the Teacher's College in Munich for four years. At that time, in 1921, food was very scarce in Germany. Then the American sisters came to our aid. They sent us bags and bags of good nourishing soup, so daily we had a bowl of good soup for breakfast. Today I have the opportunity to thank you and your predecessors for this great kind deed you did for us in those meager years, and may God bless you specially.
During that time, we received our ration of bread in the evening to last the following day. But we were so hungry that we usually ate it that very evening. Meat or sausages we saw only on the greatest feast days, yet we survived!
After finishing my studies, I taught in various places in the Bavarian province until Hitler took our schools in 1938. Then I volunteered for Brazil and began to study Portuguese, but I was sent to Woolwich, England, with Sister Arimathea Kreidl in January 1939.
Back in 1933, having come out of the novitiate in Munich, I had been sent to northern Bavaria, not too far from Frankfurt. Hitler had staunch deputies there. I had to teach seventy headstrong girls aged ten to thirteen, and one afternoon in the week about fifty girls aged thirteen to sixteen. We were allowed to begin school with prayer, but had to add 'Heil Hitler.'
The older girls were urged on by some 'Brown Shirts,' the name given to the followers of Hitler, to contradict me in my teaching whenever it wasn't to their liking. To flare up or punish them was not good, so I tried to convince them that they would have to know the fundamentals well if they aimed to become useful members of the Party. So far so good, but I got worn out and often came home from school and couldn't eat.
Our principal was head of the Boys' School as well as of the Girls' School. And Hitler became his god. His aim was to get rid of the sisters. When the report cards were given out, he watched like a hawk. He found out that one girl, who was a good member of the Hitler Youth, had the best mark in singing. The next day he came storming to my classroom door 'Yes, you gave her the high mark to get her away from the Hitler Youth. That's a criminal offense. Just wait, I'll get you into the concentration camp!'
We had only one loudspeaker in school. When Hitler addressed the nation I had to walk with my girls to the public square and listen. It was awful to listen to his shouting and raving. Later, I heard from a priest who was actually present at one of his speeches how an evil spirit seemed to work in his face, his actions, his whole body.
In Germany we had school every day, but those belonging to the Hitler Youth were allowed to stay away from school and enjoy games and marches on Saturdays. Of course, only a small number of girls came to school, so I started, as I called it, a Hitler Book. I collected all the facts about him that were for the good of the nation. The one fact I remember best was that millions of Germans were out of work. What did Hitler do? He started to build many roads across Germany. Every able-bodied person had to join in the work. Hitler's praises were sung in the whole country. So we wrote in our Hitler Book about his marvelous achievements and attached colorful pictures. The girls became enthusiastic and more and more joined the Saturday classes, until the playground of the Hitler Youth was almost empty. The principal came storming again, 'Just wait, you will land in the concentration camp.'
One afternoon, the leaders of the Hitler Youth came to the convent and offered me a position as youth leader in their party. 'Holy Spirit,' I prayed, 'put the right words in my mouth!' I thanked them very much for their kind offer and then added, 'As you like your uniform and are very proud of it, so I like mine and I am proud of it.'
Our principal lived across the road from the convent. We were warned by a good friend that he was watching our front door to find out who was in league with us, and therefore, against the Party. From then on, the good people climbed the back fence, which had no gate, and came to the back door to keep us informed. Thank God they never were caught!
But in 1938 we were informed that our schools would be closed. Our values were unacceptable. They did not fit the philosophy of the leader. So I volunteered for Brazil. When I went to the embassy to apply for a passport, the room was crowded with Jews hoping to get permission to leave Germany. I often wonder how many of them escaped Hitler's hate and fury. In December, I received my passport, but in January 1939 I was on my way not to Brazil but to England.
After eight-months of relative quiet and security, and getting used to the language and new surroundings, war broke out. Our convent was in Woolwich, a suburb of London. As Woolwich was the Port of London that contained the arsenal, the barracks for the soldiers, and the international Naval College, it was a war target. Most of the sisters in Woolwich were German. Whenever we went for a lecture to London we had to report at the police station. On coming back we had to show ourselves again. That wasn't bad.
One of the first Saturdays after the war had begun, the sirens sounded in the early afternoon, and soon the bombs began to drop and the ground shook with heavy explosions. After the 'All Clear' sounded we came out of the shelter, an underground refuge. And what a sight we saw! The whole city below (we lived up on the hill) was covered with thick black smoke. Then evacuation took place. If the parents agreed, the children were taken to the countryside and housed by good people and then taught by the sisters in a big private home. Those children who stayed with their parents in the city came to our school.
Each morning we got the work ready for the day, so if the sirens sounded we could go immediately to the shelter. We usually taught there for an hour or two until the 'All Clear' sounded. Often in the evening, around 5:00 p.m., the siren sounded again, and we sought refuge in the shelter with families from the neighborhood or even from downtown. The people felt safe with us, even in our house, where they made themselves at home in the passage on the ground floor where there were no windows.
Whenever a high explosive bomb would drop in the vicinity, some of the ceiling would come down and windows were blown in. Instead of putting in new glass panes, a sort of oil paper was fastened to empty frames. Even the floorboards at the front door were ripped up by the blast. At the beginning of the war, everybody got a gas mask, which we had to carry along wherever we went.
We lived through six years of war, and thanks be to God, none of us was injured and none of our schoolchildren nor their families were bombed out, injured, or killed. Toward the end of the war, all the houses in our street were so badly damaged that the people had to move out and find refuge with their friends or relatives. Our house and the house of an old lady across the road from us were spared.
It was St. Patrick's Day 1945. We just had put everything out for breakfast when a bomber throbbed above us. We quickly dashed into the cupboard. A bomb dropped. The remaining windows came flying in, covering everything with glass, but again we didn't suffer any harm, and it proved to be the last bomb.
Victory Day came. How the people rejoiced. There were street parties everywhere. We arranged one for our children as well. Two of our sisters went downtown to Woolworth to buy some little presents and, 'Oh Wonder!' We got it all free, and to top it all we were invited to a cup of delicious coffee. What a treat in those days!
The horrors of the war are in our memories, but these sad experiences drew us closer together with our companion sisters and pupils.
I taught in Woolwich for thirty years. Then I was sent to Lingfield/Surrey to take over a class when a teacher was missing, but I found that too taxing. So I decided to go to Canada in 1976.
I spent five years in the Waterdown motherhouse activity room, helping the elderly sisters do needlework. Then I was sent up north to Formosa to visit the elderly and the sick with another companion sister for five years. Now I live in the motherhouse villa, being elderly myself. I enjoy being with the dear companion sisters, going for walks, doing needlework, having fun. I pray for all in need, and I'm looking forward to the life to come.
