Wolfram
I have read all but one of Giles Milton’s books and harboured great anticipation for this new one. I was not disappointed. For me he continues to move from strength to strength. His books are always well written and impeccably researched. He always manages to deliver his historical subject matter in a way that draws on the human condition rather than just the drab old dates and landscapes that relegate history to the black hole that bears no relevance to our understanding of where we exist today.
His latest work concerns the biography of Wolfram Aichele. A human being whose biggest crime was to be born into a country and at a time that would have him almost swallowed by the world’s greatest apocalypse. Wolfram was a German. A gentle and studious boy born into a good family. He showed early and even precocious artistic talent. The Innocence of the boy and his ethereal world are beautifully drawn. The schooling , the parentage, the house and the gradual realisation that not all people live like this. The details of the artisan who wants to pursue his dream are heartrending when one knows what must come. The gradual creeping and destructive influence of National socialism. that spreads its viral fungus over all that is held dear.
And then his incredible journey that takes in almost all of the major and formative experiences of the European war. Eastern front, western front, home front, D day, and war crimes in the form of incendiary bombing creating firestorms that were indifferent to medieval masonry, or human flesh let alone ornate works of art lost forever to the wondrous gaze of mankind. We create them and we destroy them.
This book works very well as a microcosm for the individual dreamer trapped within the utter pornography of war. It is time to revise all of the victors versions of this conflagration. It is time to see the people behind all of the different uniforms. It is time to understand that civilians are exactly that. Just civilians. In short it is time to tell the truth about all of the victims.
To this day there is still confusion between what is a Nazis and what is a German. No one is excusing the holocaust but my heart bleeds for the silent suffering of innocent Germans that are still suffocating under two generations of collective guilt.
Giles must surely have agonised about creating an objective view from such intimate family material. Although I know it is impossible I would love to take Wolfram’s hand, look into his eyes and say I understand a tiny portion of your pain.
I loved this book.
Robert Ashby, Account Manager – Melbourne