A Waidmannsheil for Tyssa!

My career aspiration was to become a forester from an early age. Since my great-grandfather and grandfather were already working in this green guild and my father pursued this beautiful profession as a passionate hunter in his free time, my career aspiration was already promoted from this side with role models.

I like to think back to it, when my father took me as a child to his stalking on the Oberwald. This forest district, which belonged to the Prokop family of hunters and sons in Tyssa, in whose metal goods business my father was employed, extended to the border to Königswald and Nollendorf. Since the hiking trail to the Oberwald, past the Mühlteich, the Försterteich and the popular Ziegelteich was very long for me as a child, at first I was allowed to lay more comfortable part of the way with my father in my backpack or on his shoulders. Watching the wildlife from binoculars with the binoculars was always an interesting experience. The small log cabin built in the deepest forest is also unforgettable. which was provided with a rustic decor. A Mr. Fuchsa from Königswald, who worked as a hunter in this area, ensured, among other things, always that there was enough firewood there to be able to prepare cozy warmth or a hearty meal in the hearth of this log cabin. Later, when I was allowed to spend the night with my dad there as a teenager, so that we could observe the awakening of nature and game at an early stage, the “self-barked” tasted much better than at home. Gladly I think back afterwards, when my dad tinkered a water wheel, which turned busy in the stream next to the log cabin, or he tinkered me out of juicy branches of mountain ash (Abschbeere) a whistle (Lillapfiebe). who worked as a hunter in this area, made sure among other things always that enough firewood was there to be able to prepare in the stove of this log cabin cozy warmth or a hearty meal. Later, when I was allowed to spend the night with my dad there as a teenager, so that we could observe the awakening of nature and game at an early stage, the “self-barked” tasted much better than at home. Gladly I think back afterwards, when my dad tinkered a water wheel, which turned busy in the stream next to the log cabin, or he tinkered me out of juicy branches of mountain ash (Abschbeere) a whistle (Lillapfiebe). who worked as a hunter in this area, made sure among other things always that enough firewood was there to be able to prepare in the stove of this log cabin cozy warmth or a hearty meal. Later, when I was allowed to spend the night with my dad there as a teenager, so that we could observe the awakening of nature and game at an early stage, the “self-barked” tasted much better than at home. Gladly I think back afterwards, when my dad tinkered a water wheel, which turned busy in the stream next to the log cabin, or he tinkered me out of juicy branches of mountain ash (Abschbeere) a whistle (Lillapfiebe). to be able to prepare cozy warmth or a hearty meal in the hearth of this log cabin. Later, when I was allowed to spend the night with my dad there as a teenager, so that we could observe the awakening of nature and game at an early stage, the “self-barked” tasted much better than at home. Gladly I think back afterwards, when my dad tinkered a water wheel, which turned busy in the stream next to the log cabin, or he tinkered me out of juicy branches of mountain ash (Abschbeere) a whistle (Lillapfiebe). to be able to prepare cozy warmth or a hearty meal in the hearth of this log cabin. Later, when I was allowed to spend the night with my dad there as a teenager, so that we could observe the awakening of nature and game at an early stage, the “self-barked” tasted much better than at home. Gladly I think back afterwards, when my dad tinkered a water wheel, which turned busy in the stream next to the log cabin, or he tinkered me out of juicy branches of mountain ash (Abschbeere) a whistle (Lillapfiebe). the “self-brewed” tasted much better than at home. Gladly I think back afterwards, when my dad tinkered a water wheel, which turned busy in the stream next to the log cabin, or he tinkered me out of juicy branches of mountain ash (Abschbeere) a whistle (Lillapfiebe). the “self-brewed” tasted much better than at home. Gladly I think back afterwards, when my dad tinkered a water wheel, which turned busy in the stream next to the log cabin, or he tinkered me out of juicy branches of mountain ash (Abschbeere) a whistle (Lillapfiebe).

After I had passed my average maturity in Bodenbach on the Krohhübel in 1944, my career aspiration came true. As a forestry apprentice I was able to work for the “Fürstlich- Thun-Hohenstein district administration in Tyssa, with Herr Oberförster Renger. Since my grandfather, as retired forester, was also proud of my service, he gave me my first hunting rifle with a riflescope.   My service gave me great pleasure, as I had also found an exemplary “instructor” in Mr. Oberförster Renger.

It was only the political “weather conditions” that worried us all about the end of 1944, when the terrible war continued to push itself to its home borders and claimed thousands of victims. Shortly before Christmas 1944, when I was 16 years old, I got the conscription to the Reich Labor Service, which at the same time meant the end of my forestry training. The last days of my apprenticeship should be the “most exciting”. Since my dear Herr Oberförster will not be able to read these lines anymore, I take the courage to tell it. I received the order to record the result achieved in a logging and pulled out equipped with rifle, binoculars and photo in the area towards Eiland. When I wanted to cross the street, I saw a deer across the street which did not discover me. First I looked at it through my binoculars and then through my riflescope for a trial. I knew that I should not shoot it, but the temptation was very great, it was still supported, that I would come with the convocation in the pocket, probably never so cheap to a shot. To calm myself down, I decided that I would count slowly to five. If the deer is still there then, the “lot has decided”. I counted and with “five” the “lot” had decided with a shot in the hand. Excited, I hid the deer under a pile of rice, then did my job and in the evening went with my friend Hermann, who lived in the “Waldvilla” with his parents and siblings, with a cart to fetch the deer.

On the eve of my departure for an uncertain future, I “confessed” to my parents that I had failed to say goodbye. However, since we were all hit by the pain of farewell and I was doing “conservation”, there was no thunder. In retrospect, I think that even if it was a violation of the hunting law at that time, I had brought a precious Christmas surprise to this large bombed-out family from Duisburg, and half a year later the “victors” had done more mischief in our beautiful homeland.

Our address until the expulsion in 1945 to Grossenhain, Saxony was in Tyssa house number 375, circle Tetschen-Bodenbach. As a 16-year-old, I was drafted by the Reich Labor Service into the Wehrmacht and transferred to Italy to the front, where I returned to my parents from English captivity in November 1947.

Harald Richter,
Rostock, March 2003