Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 21, 2026

Herbert Hoover

 In August of 1914, the German army invaded Belgium on its way to attack France. Belgium was a prosperous county that traded for most of its foodstuffs. The German army stripped the country of what food and livestock it produced while murdering thousands of innocent civilians, a phenomenon known as “The Rape of Belgium.” The British navy closed the ports through which food arrived. A country of 7.5 million people faced starvation.

When no help came, Herbert Hoover, who was living in Europe, initiated a great effort called the Commission for Relief in Belgium.

Under Hoover’s leadership, the CRB became a logistical powerhouse. It coordinated international donations, chartered ships, and oversaw the distribution of food within Belgium through local committees. At its peak, the organization fed more than 10 million people daily, not only in Belgium but also in parts of northern France. Hoover emphasized efficiency, transparency, and strict neutrality, ensuring that aid reached civilians rather than military forces.

I’m studying the life of this complex man in what I call my “hair shirt hour.” I spend it learning about or reading things I should have done already but didn’t want to.

I’m curious and eager to see how this man could have been so compassionate at one point and so seemingly cruel at another. Wish me luck

Sunday, March 25, 2018

Sunrise With Schubert: March 25, 2018

Yesterday, I went to my hometown of Pine Bluff to see a cousin whom I hadn't seen in maybe 65 years. He is a von Tungeln, from my father's side. His name is Donald and we had a nice talk.

My father's side of the family was never as close as my mother's. Though my father's parents never divorced, they had two estrangements, the last growing more bitter over the years. They are buried side by side because my parents had extra plots and there was no other place to bury them. It is a dark-comedy type of amusement among my relatives that the two lie so (apparently) lovingly together.

I've neglected this side of the family over the years and now, much too late, am re-establishing contact. That makes me feel good.

It is a noble family, as the name suggests. My father's line migrated from Bremen, through Ireland in the late 1800s. This line settled around Golconda, Illinois. Another line settled in Kansas, migrating to Oklahoma and Texas. I have "cousins" in Oklahoma that I've become close to via FB and personal visits.

I also have "cousins" in the Bremen area, include Dierk and Rolf with whom I maintain contact. I still hope to visit them some day.

After witnessing two world wars with Germany, my father didn't make a big production of our heritage. Too bad. Maybe had I encouraged him, he would have. Having been taunted as a "dirty Hun" as a child during World War One, his reticence is understandable.

Personally, I am beginning to work on more understanding of the family. Dierk  provided us with a family tree that goes back to the 1600s, so much work remains.

Unlike many socially deranged Southerners, I try to let the story of the two wars with Germany rest in the annals of the past, for study instead of revenge. My job is to understand history, not to rewrite it. I do find it sehr interessant that the WWII veterans I've known who spent time in Germany after the war ended, without exception, came to like the German people much more than they did either the French or English. That's just the ones I knew personally of course. I'm sure it wasn't universal but it is odd.

I simply cannot forbear mentioning, again as my personal opinion, that today's America is beginning to make me understand 1930s Germany more and more. I hope we come to our senses soon. The kids I saw on TV yesterday may be our best hope.

As I say, my father didn't talk much about the family after two wars and two tragic estrangements, he chose to live the present. He did mention one piece of family history that he wished he owned: his grandfather's wooden shoes. I've often wondered whatever happened to them.

Granddaddy John von Tungeln