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Rolf was an adolscent when WW2 starts. He was feared, but quite excited, when the Wehrmacht told him, that he has to join the war on France. He served as a anti-aircraft assistance in the middle of France. He had to carry the munition for the anti-aircraft gun, when the british bombers where coming.

But most of the time it was like an adventure for him, as he told me. One day they had to controll a industrial place. With three friends they took the forklift trucks of that company and made a race in the storage hall. Rolf told me the french stoeman was ranting on them. I don´t know why he told me excactly this story, maybe because it could be a normal adventure story for young men?

After the war he came back to his home town and had to face the denazification program. but passed it. He had an french advocate on his site. He was the commander of the local french troups. They knew echother because the house of my grandfather was confiscated by the french officers of the occupying forces and used as the headquarter.
My grandfather told me that it was not easy to live with the soldiers under the same roof, but the commander was a nice guy.
(One day a shot resovled by accident of a soldier. Nobody was injured, but my grand-grand-mother started crying, because she thought someone of her familiy could be death. After this day the commander did not allow weapons in the house anymore.)

Little side-story:
I remember also that there was a Dutch forced worker in the house of my grand-grand-parents. He had to work at the fields. It was not the worst place to stay during the war. There was enough food and no direct war actions. Despite this situation my grandparents and the Dutch became friends. They visited each other for their whole life. One time I was allowed to travel with my grandparents to the Netherlands to visit this man (Unfortunately I forgot his name). I was six years old and only remember that he was snoring very loud and that they had a yummy kind of a vanilla pudding.