FIRST PART 1956-1998 Section 1

Document type: Web page copy

Publication date: 20 March 1968

FIRST PART 1956-1998
Section 1

On March 20 , 1968, the editor-in-chief of Germany's
major national newspaper 'Hamburger Abendblatt' wrote in his daily front page column "From a human perspective". The article can be seen th in facsimile, including in Danish translation

About helping others The purpose of life is to help people in need. At first it was Germany's mixed-race children whom she placed in Danish homes, and last year victims of the war in Vietnam. Anna Lorenzen, Hamburg, manager of Terre des Hommes, had a lot to do last year. This was not least true in Hamburg's hospitals to provide beds for seriously injured war-disabled children and provide help for them. Anna Lorenzen, who was not a well-known name and did not have a bank account, but only lives on her pension, thanks to her vitality and incomparable energy, brought 20 Vietnamese children to our hospitals for treatment. The slim woman with the narrow face understands very well people who have had a difficult fate. Nor has her own fate been a bed of roses. Anna Lorenzen is Danish. She married a German who died in World War II. She herself was badly injured and lost her right arm. In 1945 she was taken prisoner and was only released again in 1956. Today, Hamburg is her home, and her purpose in life is to help those who have often been considered 'half people', as she herself expresses it. In that relationship, it doesn't matter to her whether it's a child from Vietnam, from India or from Germany. "But the Vietnamese children have the greatest need for help at the moment ," she believes. Right now, she visits the 15 most seriously injured children and young people in Bernbecker Hospital every day. They know her and are happy every time she comes. A happy child's laugh is the biggest thank you that Anna Lorenzen could wish for.

"Denmark was the first country in Europe, perhaps in the world, where targeted adoption of foreign children began. Already in the 1950s, Danes had become aware that many children in the chaotic post-war Germany lived in desperate conditions. Especially children with Allied fathers, especially colored American soldiers, were seriously threatened. These children were brought to Denmark
for the purpose of adoption" (Kai Aaen wrote in the Adoptions Centrets magazine when he left as chairman in 1996).

It is not common - if it has even happened before - for a foreign author to dedicate a book to a contemporary, Danish woman. But the German author Gerd Gramke did in his 1992 book 'Kinder aus Zweiter Hand' ('Recycled children' is a bad translation, but I have none better). The dedication is the author's thanks to Mrs. Anna Lorenzen for her efforts to provide him and his wife, who were involuntarily childless, four adopted children. The book was part of a popular series 'Unbelievable fates' from the large German publisher Goldmann Verlag, Munich, and bore the slightly convoluted subtitle: 'Four children of different skin colors who avoided their otherwise appalling fate and found happiness with an adoptive family - ours'. The book was never published in Danish. Probably because no Danish publisher noticed that the book's protagonist was a Danish woman: Anna Lorenzen. It is a very personal book, in which the author talks about his and his wife's four adopted children, whom they received via Terre des Hommes, thanks to the long-time head of the Hamburg branch of this humanitarian organization, Anna Lorenzen. Despite different ethnic origins - one mulatto and two with unmistakably oriental features - the four children were all brought up as European citizens. All four children suffered from very serious disabilities at the time of adoption. It takes a lot of love to adopt such children. The associate professor, the director of studies from Flensburg and his wife did so. Today, the children themselves are adults and have grown-up children. The youngest, a Vietnamese girl, was - and is - paralyzed from the chest down. Today, she has a highly trusted management position in a large IT company in the USA. The mulatto child belonged to the so-called 'dark Germans', whom very few Germans would even adopt during the decades of Allied occupation of Germany. Everyone knew that these were the children of German women and black soldiers from the American occupation army in Germany after World War II. The Germans looked at these 'dark Germans' in the same way that we in Denmark after 1945 looked at 'German children' - results of German occupation soldiers and Danish 'field mattresses', as their mothers were so sensitively called. Because virtually no Germans - the Gramke family excepted - would not adopt 'dark Germans', organizations such as 'Forgotten Children', 'DanAdopt' and Terre des Hommes found many of its adoptive parents in other countries. Thus hundreds of these 'dark Germans' came to adoptive parents in Denmark. Here they have slipped into the population - as far as I know, without anyone pointing fingers at them.

- I came to Germany in 1956, says Anna Lorenzen. I myself am disabled [Anna is missing her right arm] , and theoretically with my disability pension I could have sat in a chair and stared at the wall. But it was never me. I had decided to do something for others, first of all for children in need, and when the worst of the move-in hall was over and I started reading newspapers, one day I saw something about 'die Besatzungskinder' ('Occupation children'), children of German women and black American occupation soldiers. They were mulattoes, so the descent could not be hidden. I remembered seeing the name Tytte Botfeldt, Augustenborg på Als in Danish newspapers. She had, on her own initiative, started work to provide orphans with a new home, a new family, a new life. In short: Get them adoptive parents who were willing and able to raise foreign children as their own.
I turned to her. Right from the start, it turned out that we had the same chemistry, the same attitude that no one should stop us. Tytte helped me with advice and help in the first years. She had many addresses for Danes who wanted to adopt, but who found the normal process too slow and therefore looked for other options. We had no real organization. So we made one. In the beginning, it actually consisted of just her and me. But then we could afford to raise money. Travel and letters now cost money. In Denmark we called the organization 'Forgotten Children' (later renamed 'DanAdopt') and in Germany 'Verlassene Kinder'. Tytte Botfeldt had already found quite a few adoptive parents in Denmark, but lacked children to adopt away. Now she and I divided the work between us: I found the children, and Tytte found adoptive parents. I went around various German orphanages and found children that no one wanted to adopt. Just walked in and said 'Guten Tag'. In such places it was not a negative that I myself was physically disabled. I was literally welcomed with open arms – if only I could help them get rid of these kids. There were constantly more and more of them. The mulatto children had it the hardest, so I concentrated on them. Tyttes' and my collaboration grew in these first years, so that at times it was growing over our heads, says Anna Lorenzen. But we became friends for life. It was a great sadness for me when she died in 1979, aged only 59. Tytte was a great person.
Occasionally a newspaper article could change our plans. It happened, for example, in connection with an effort in what was then East Pakistan (today Bangla Desh). In 1947, England had agreed to give its large colony India independence. Against the colony being divided into two countries, India and Pakistan. In this way, it was believed to be able to create peace in the area after independence. India was predominantly Buddhist, Pakistan predominantly Muslim. To make it even more confusing, Pakistan was divided into a West Pakistan (today Pakistan) and an East Pakistan (today Bangla Desh) with1800 kilometersIndia in between. A completely idiotic invention, which then also meant refugee flows, military revolts, civil war - and new thousands of orphans. I went out there by plane to see the conditions, got free seats on a homebound flight for 5-6 children that I had found (unfortunately there was more than enough to take off) and came home with the children, who were immediately adopted, thanks to Tytte Botfeldt and several others whom I had set about finding parents while I was away. It was about 2-300 who in the 1950s-60s-70s got a Danish home through us. A few came from the East, but the vast majority were 'die Besatzungskinder'.
For many years I had contact with all the adopted children and their adoptive parents. Even as an old man, I regularly hear from some of 'my children'.

In 1960, the Swiss journalist Edmund Kaiser founded the organization Terre des Hommes. His ideas were exactly the same as ours in 'Verlassene Kinder' ('Forgotten Children'). Tytte and I considered contacting him, but initially it was just an idea.
A few years later, Tytte Botfeldt founded a Danish branch of the organization. But we got all the way to 1967 before a German department was set up. In the meantime, we continued our work in our own small organization. A number of voluntary helpers were added, and I often worked together with other aid organisations. I would not for all intents and purposes be tied down to any particular organization.

< The book is about the married couple Gramke's 4 adopted children with disabilities, who never tired of thanking Anna Lorenzen
for giving them a happy life by
providing them with an adoptive home

Here are some of the children that Anna Lorenzen fought for in the 1950s and 60s to give them a good life by – despite their physical disabilities – getting them placed with good and loving Danish and German adoptive parents. Over 30 such pictures hung in Anna's small apartment, first in Hamburg and later in South Schleswig.

These children are the ones the author Gerd Gramke mentions in the book 'Kinder aus zweiter Hand'. Today , Gerd Gramke is dead, his widow is in a nursing home and the children are adults. They never forgot Anna with Christmas cards and greetings. Thuy (bottom TV) was – and is – paralyzed in the entire lower body. Today, she has a large position in an American IT company in New York.

Here Anna continues her story:
- For the Rexroth Foundation in Lohr am Rhein, I first flew in the 1960s - I don't remember the exact year - into one of the war zones in what was also then war-ravaged Afghanistan. I have been out in the world for Terre des Hommes, Aktion Friedensdorf and the German counterpart to the People's Church Aid. As well as on their own behalf.
The goal was always the same: to save forgotten children – the innocent victims of war – to a new life in orderly and more peaceful surroundings.

While Anna was still living in Hamburg it happened one day that a public office for children and young people called Anna and a lady said: - Frau Lorenzen. We have an extremely difficult case. Would it be something for you to help us solve it - if possible?
- Should I go out again as the local fire brigade? Anna asked with a twinkle in her eye.
- It concerns an 8-year-old son of a prostitute in the Sankt Pauli district. The boy lives in an orphanage and wants to go home to his mother. But she doesn't care about him at all. All attempts to get her to sign an adoption permit have been unsuccessful. The boy lives in an orphanage for the fifth year. He must and must go from there. You, Mrs. Lorenzen, are our last hope!
- Well! I will come to your office tomorrow!
      No one knew where the mother lived. She could only be contacted when she was 'at work' in the brothel. Privately, she had managed to live completely without contact with any authority. Anna Lorenzen did not want to walk alone in the infamous Herbertstrasse, where all Hamburg's brothels are gathered, and where the whores sit on display in display windows for purchase to the highest bidder. She demanded to be accompanied by an acquaintance. At night at 23 they entered 'Lastens Gade' with extremely mixed feelings. Even for Anna Lorenzen, who had otherwise tried a bit of everything, a visit to one of St. Pauli's most inflamed environments was unknown. But when it comes to the fate of a child, she found every step permissible. Anna and her acquaintance looked like an unusual couple, and they didn't let the elderly brothel hostess put them off.
- Then we wait here until Frau Hellmer has time! Anna said. The hostess could have thrown them out, but she bowed to Anna's determination and said:
- Well, when you absolutely insist! It lasted until half past five in the morning before Anna was asked into Frau Hellmer's 'workroom'. Her acquaintance was not allowed access. He had to sit nicely in the 'waiting room', where he looked like a customer.
   - Are you from the municipality's children and youth department? asked Mrs. Hellmers. In that case, you can leave immediately! Such was the language in those circles.
- I have nothing to do with any official office, answered Anna, but I know your little boyJan! lied Anna – for she had never so much as seen him.
The unbelievable happened. Anna won Mrs. Hellmer's confidence.
-Janis so unhappy in that orphanage, said Anna. He longs for his mother – or rather 'a mother'. If you have any feelings at all for your boy and do not want to take him home yourself and be good to him, at least give your written permission for adoption. Then I will probably have to find a family where he will really feel good. You have my word on that!
   Anna Lorenzen told the prostitute mother about the many, many children that she had already helped to a happier life by finding adoptive parents for them, and how she mostly kept in touch with the adoptive parents and thus followed 'her children' on their further path. Anna made a strong impression on the boy's mother. She held out
her hand to Anna and agreed. In order not to risk that Frau Hellmers probably one

Hamburg's brothel street in the middle of the port district of San Pauli has for centuries been reserved for male customers. Men must be 18 years old. Women are not allowed access .

Anna defied the prohibition of 'No entry for women', but was certainly not welcome. She found what she was looking for:
in a sales window sat the mother of a boy whom no one had been able to persuade to give up for adoption, although she never visited him in the orphanage where he was placed. There are planks at each end of Herbertstrasse. It entices with what men can find behind it. It's not even free to join a viewer.

changing her mind, Anna took advantage of the chance that had arisen from the fact that the public offices had now opened again. She persuaded Mrs Hellmer to go with her to the Children and Youth Office at the Town Hall and sign the permission for her child to be adopted. In the office, people were more than surprised:
- How have you behaved, Mrs. Lorenzen?
- When you can speak people's own jargon, and when what you can offer a person down in the dirt sounds reasonable, then you can also achieve a result, Anna answered.
Two days later, Anna Lorenzen sat with the boy on a train on the way to Copenhagen. The S. family, who had been looking for a child to adopt for a long time, were informed and had prepared for the meeting. The father was a doctor, and there were already two children aged 2 and 4. Anna Lorenzen knew Mrs S. via Tytte Botfeldt. The door was opened. Mrs. S. embracedJanand said:
- There you are, my boy. We have been waiting for you for a very long time! Now I finally have a person I can talk to. My other two children are too young – and my husband is at his clinic all day. You may think I am glad to see you. I hope you will soon settle in here as a big brother in the family.
Mrs. S. had spoken German to the boy, soJanhad understood it all.
- You want me? said the boy. That's more than my own mother wants.
Neither the boy, his new mother nor Anna made any attempt to hide the tears of joy. For the first time there was a human being who wanted to take the boy in. Anna remembers it as one of the most beautiful moments of her life. Today isJandoctor in Copenhagen - as his adoptive father was.

Tytte Botfeldt (above TV on his deathbed) had, as mentioned before, gotten the Danish branch of Terre des Hommes to stand up, continues Anna. One of her employees was the journalist Henning Becker (Here, in the middle of 'his' Vietnam children). The two of them persuaded me to take the lead in getting a German branch of this organization.
It happened in January 1967, when West Germany joined the organization as the 13th country. I was a co-founder, but at the same time as working for Terre des Hommes in Germany with headquarters in the city of Osnabrück, I continued on my own, where I didn't have to ask anyone.

The Vietnam children
Chronologically, we have now arrived at March 1967. In the far East - in that of F in the divided country of Vietnam - the civil war is raging between the communist North Vietnam and the US-backed, capitalist South Vietnam. The civilian population suffers terribly from the cruelty of the modern war machine. Some organisations, e.g. Terre des Hommes, trying to help these children in their own country, but nothing is sacred to the guerilla fighters from either the South or the North, let alone the American 'relief troops' and especially not their B-52 bombers. Towns, villages, orphanages and hospitals are shot or bombed into piles of rubble.
Terre des Hommes has fostered another idea. Fearless humanitarian workers literally dig crippled children out of the ruins or pick them up from shell holes with serious injuries such as blindness, ruptured eardrums, internal injuries, blown limbs and, for the most part, also burned beyond recognition by the most terrible of all weapons of war of the time: Napalm bombs . These are incendiary bombs with a terrifying content of the liquid, sticky, high-explosive incendiary Napalm. On impact, mini-bombs spread like cluster bombs, but with contents that stick burningly to the bodies of people and animals.

3 June 1967. Clipping from 'Hamburger Abendblatt'. The first I have found in which Anna Lorenzen appears by name (see the oval). Even then, she is listed in the newspaper as a representative of Terre des Hommes. Only from March 1968 did she appear as an official employee. It was then that she suddenly discovered that 'Terre des Hommes Hamburg – that's me!'

I had a few times undertaken tasks for the German branch of Terre des Hommes, which I myself had co-founded on January 8, 1967. We were probably eight ladies at that meeting.
The Danish-Sydleswig journalist Henning Becker was one of Terre des Homme's very active figures in Denmark, and he did not waste time on office work. How he collected the necessary financial means, I do not know. But he actually traveled back and forth all the time after Vietnam children. Did a fantastic job, and was apparently underappreciated in Denmark, where he was considered a tie-breaker. During 1967, Henning Becker came several times with Vietnamese children and once also children from Korea, where there were still problems. Although the civil war had ended in Korea 14 years ago, there was still psychological warfare between North Korea and South Korea (there still is, apparently, for the rest), and people fled in wretched boats from North to South. South Korea could not afford to give the little ones proper care. Henning Becker mostly came with 5-6-7 children at a time. All disabled children stayed in Hamburg - the Danes didn't want them - and we then also found places for them. Sometimes we got free places in the hospitals. Other times the head office in Osnabrück paid, several times money was collected, mainly from large companies. But I kept that outside at the time. I was an unofficial helper. One of the times when I appeared as a representative of Terre des Hommes, it turned into a big interview in the Hamburger Abendblatt – at the time Germany's biggest newspaper. This meant that people associated me with Terre des Hommes – and I didn't mind that either. Although I preferred to make an effort in Tytte's and my little 'shop', where we didn't open bigger bread than we could manage to bake. This is how the winter of 1967-68 went.

< Improved version of the newspaper image above .

Below I have taken the liberty of translating another article in the Hamburger Abendblatt. I have done it in the same setup
as the original German and in a readable size. The article is good for understanding the human Anna Lorenzen.

The founder of Terre des Hommes employed Anna as a manager by telephone.
I had just come from Copenhagen after a strenuous train journey with an adopted child to a family there, Anna says. I was looking forward to a nice coffee hour with good music. I was about to light a cigarette when my phone rang:.
- Hello! Anna Lorenzen!
- Hello. My name is Edmund Kaiser. I am calling from Switzerland. I am the founder of the organization Terre des Hommes and I have heard about your work for 'Verlassene Kinder' (He obviously had no idea that I was one of the co-founders of his own organization in Germany). Would you, Mrs. Lorenzen, consider working in Hamburg for us? We need people like you. As you already know, there is an awful lot of misery for children in this world. There we feel that we must help. We help wherever children are in need.
- That's what we already do, Mr. Kaiser!
- Yes, but... how should I explain myself,continued Edmund Kaiser. You probably know your compatriot Henning Becker. He is Terre des Hommes' man in Denmark. Becker is currently in Vietnam and will return one of the next few days with a transport of war-disabled, burned children. Some of these will stay in Hamburg, the rest will be flown on to Copenhagen. We badly need someone who can take on the work in Hamburg. Can I count on your help, Mrs. Lorenzen?
- Of course I want to help. How do you think it should be approached. What can I do with one arm? I am disabled myself and cannot do much physical work. But tell me what I can do - and I will do it?
- I am glad that you will help us. You must take in the children in Hamburg and see if you can get free places in some of the big city's hospitals. Do you want to try?
- I want to. Send me all the information and an ID for my work for Terre des Hommes. Then I'll have to make everything work.
- I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Mrs. Lorenzen. Let's hope for a good cooperation! Goodbye and thanks again!

A few days later, Anna received a small package with information material and identification so she could show that she represented Terre des Hommes Hamburg.
- On my old chopping board of a typewriter, I write the first letter, says Anna. It has been addressed to Hamburg's Senate[citizen's representation]with a request to make free places available at the city's clinics. The rich Hanseatic city of Hamburg must be able to do that. I am optimistic. But the answer is disappointing. The matter will most willingly be investigated, but at the same time it is emphasized that, due to the currently tense financial situation and finances, it is not considered to be overwhelmingly probable...etc. etc. So a No! The bureaucrats make their decisions without human consideration. But you shouldn't run around corners with me like that. I will be furious and will fight for these children. In the morning the phone rings again. This time, Terre des Hommes Germany reports from the head office in Osnabrück.
- Good that we finally caught up with you. I have an email message for you. Do you have time?
- When it comes to children, I always have time. What's wrong?
- Tomorrow, Henning Becker will arrive in Hamburg with 42 Vietnamese children. 22 of these will stay in Hamburg. There are children without arms and without legs among them. Some have severe napalm burns. It would be best if they could be hospitalized immediately. Otherwise, we are forced to first place them privately or in orphanages. Sir. Kaiser has told me you will take care of it. The plane lands tomorrow at Hamburg-Fuhlsbüttel airport. It has been made available to us free of charge by a Danish priest who owns an airline. If you can't handle it, you must call us back incessantly.
- Do not worry. I'll fix that. Anything else?
- Okay. We have problems with the Family Ministry in Bonn. The minister is blocking our work. He does not want Vietnamese children to come to Germany for treatment. He believes that it is sufficient that the hospital ship "Helgoland" has been sent to Vietnam. You must be able to take care of the children there. He doesn't understand anything or doesn't want to understand. The hospital ship has no way to accommodate thousands of children, including those with untreated war injuries, and to make matters worse, infectious diseases are increasing every day. In the far too few Vietnamese hospitals, the children cannot expect any help. In addition, no one is hospitalized at all without bribe money. The minister also says that tons of medicines, tents and blankets are already being sent to Vietnam. So we cannot count on the slightest help from the federal government!
- I know it! The high gentlemen believe that you can buy yourself free from all responsibility with money. But that doesn't save any innocent children. But I'll probably make it work.
I have an idea to try out….How old are those kids?
- Wait a minute, I'm just looking....yeah, there we have it... The children are between 5 and 8 years old. However, it is a disgrace to humanity that such little ones are made war invalids?
- Yes, indeed. But I must hurry. I pick up the children at the plane and get them settled.
Everything is crystal clear to me. Goodbye!
Only now do I become fully aware of what I have let myself in for. What is really so glaringly clear? Well, but when the citizens' presentation will not help, I must take action myself and see how I can get the free places. Tomorrow afternoon the children will come, and today it is already 10 o'clock. And I still have absolutely nothing. In the telephone book, I search under 'Hospitals', but it says nothing about which specialist departments they have, and I clearly need orthopedic departments. There is nothing else to do but call all the hospitals and ask me. I am lucky! Already on the first call I learn that 'Allgemeine Krankenhaus Barmbeck' has a large orthopedic department. So off we go!
I don't have a car. I also wouldn't be able to handle someone like that in traffic with just one arm, so I always use public transport. In addition, with my disability card for the severely disabled, I travel for free on all buses and trains. So I drive from Rahlstedt to Fuhlsbüttel or to Barmbeck.
But it is difficult like a world trip. Of course it had to happen. In Wandsbek, the train runs right in front of me, so I have to change, wait - and change again. And of course at a time when time is really short. Finally I am at Rübenkamp station. Barmbeck hospital is located in this district. A huge hospital. I ask myself and am shown to building number 14. On a very old brick building there is a sign with
Allgemeines Krankenhaus Barmbeck - Orthopedic Department Senior Professor Dr. Dr. Dr. Rupprecht Bernbek

Well, it hardly gets any nicer. The man is a doctor three times. Hopefully he will take me seriously. Hopefully he has a heart for children. I go straight to the chief doctor's anteroom. An elderly nurse with a stern face and glasses stares at me suspiciously.
- Unfortunately. The professor is busy today. I can make you an appointment tomorrow at the earliest.
- It's no use, I say decisively. I'm already having war-disabled children tomorrow. They are already on their way by plane. Lying on a stretcher in the plane. They can't even walk. They have no legs. Tell the professor!

- I never forgot
to make the children
smile when there was
pressure, says Anna.

You have to share both
joy and sorrow

with its sponsors.
I think that was
part of the secret
of our success

- Does the head doctor already know about this case?
- Nah. That's why I have to talk to him myself. I can't wait until tomorrow.
- I can try, says the nurse most graciously and disappears behind a padded door to the boss's holiest. Soon after, she comes back:
- You are lucky. The head doctor has a little bit of time before his next operation. Come with me!
I enter the room behind the sister. In front of me sits a thin, almost bony, very large, tanned man in a white, gold-buttoned doctor's coat behind a gigantic desk that is tightly packed with case files, X-rays and much else. Beside the desk stands a hideous, human-sized skeleton. By the window, a newly upholstered treatment table and in the corner a cozy seating arrangement.
The giant stands up and wants to shake hands. He notices that my right arm is missing.
- Well, how did you lose it, he asks and asks me to take a seat. I wonder why he 'douches' me. It does not suit the fine, gilded doctor's uniform at all. There seems to be a person behind the facade.
- Well, it's a memory of the previous war. We immediately forget about that case. I have more important things to talk about (I refrain from using De or you form). It is about children who have been shot and crippled in Vietnam. They are coming to Hamburg by plane tomorrow.
We must and must help them. If we don't, they will all die. That's why I hustle. They (I can't bring myself to say 'you') have to get those kids back on their feet. The professor listens to me. Clearly surprised. He had expected an invalid woman to come to him to be treated herself - and now she wants to bring a bunch of children for treatment. But I must have been persuasive and full of energy, because I don't really let him speak at all. This impresses the professor.
- I will pick up the children at the airport tomorrow afternoon. Those who need orthopedic treatment, I bring here immediately. You must help them! I have not yet obtained any free places. The Citizens' Representative Office has declined. Bureaucrats have no understanding of children. They only think in terms of paragraphs, laws and decrees. I will find out about the expenses - later. Right now it is all about accommodation and treatment. This sort of thing has clearly never happened to Professor Bernbek before. There comes an even woman of the people and fights like a lioness for children from Vietnam as if they were her own! He must have liked my demeanor. He must like people who say things straight and fight for a cause. The case seems to amuse him. Without saying a word, but with a smile on his face, he grabs the phone and says:
- Head nurse Irmgard to me immediately! Only then does he ask me:
- What is your real name? My name is Bernbek, Rupprecht Bernbek. I'm the boss here.
- My name is Anna Lorenzen. I work for Terre des Hommes in Hamburg. We provide for children in need - and whom no one else helps. That's why I'm here - and I'm not leaving until I know the children are housed!
Bang! It sat! He must be thinking: against this woman, no small talk will help. For her, it is obviously a matter of course that we will accept and treat 'her children'.
- Where are you actually from? You don't talk as if you were baptized in water from the Elbe, do you?
- I am an immigrant from Denmark. That's the reason for my bad German. The professor saying 'you' to me doesn't really confuse me. This is also done in Denmark, regardless of whether you are the boss or talking to a stranger. King Frederik IX said 'you' to everyone - and was not offended if people said 'Your Majesty' to him. But here in Germany it is certainly not common.
- The boss 'douches' everyone, including us, a nurse explains to me later. Then head nurse Irmgard enters. She is used to her boss's impulsive decisions, and is therefore not surprised when he says:
- You must prepare beds in the children's ward for tomorrow! To me he says:
- How many children should we count on?
- I don't know exactly. I too will only find out at the airport tomorrow. The head nurse leaves and the head doctor says: - I like you. I have never yet met a person who said to me: You must help me, otherwise I will not leave here! It's kind of blackmail, really, but you don't impress me that much. That's why I do it. But to the point: What is wrong with those children?
- I do not know. Haven't received any information myself. Just know, they arrive in Hamburg tomorrow and need quick treatment. I leave the investigations to…. You!
- Just say 'Rupprecht' to me. Then everything goes much easier. But now I unfortunately have to go to the operating room. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye!
When the professor grabs my left hand, he notices that I can't fully extend my fingers. He looks at my hand, feels it a little closer and says:
- We'll make it next week. When you only have one hand, at least it has to be in good shape. Danish doctors had not been able to do that in the previous 20 years.
In the antechamber, Mrs. Irmgard looks at me with astonishment as the boss follows me all the way to the door. I wink with one eye and say: - Well, goodbye then. See you later! Tomorrow I'm taking the children with me!

Yes, tomorrow the Vietnam children are coming. It's not in a week or just a few days. But tomorrow morning! I have secured places and medical treatment. But I don't have a red shrimp to pay the undoubtedly not insignificant cost. Even if the professor waives his fee – which I am quietly hoping for – there will invariably be large bills for the hospital stay. Where on earth is all that money going to come from? An old saying says that the gold is in the streets. You just have to find it to be able to pick it up. So I have to go out and search. Well, until now something has always turned up. Why not do it this time too?

Back in my apartment, the truth dawns on me: Terre des Hommes Hamburg. It is me. Little Me. It truly is a one-man business – or even better (or worse) a one-woman business. Everything rests on my shoulders. I haven't even had time to get a helper, let alone several, in the middle of all the hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo.
The next problem looms: How do the children get from the airport to the clinic?
I call Falck's Redningskorps station in Hamburg. It is for Danish drivers who need auto recovery, vehicle towing and, to a limited extent, ambulance driving. I know the manager, Finn Brenfeld, a little. He must help.
- Hello! Anna Lorenzen here. Good day, Finn. I now work here in Hamburg for Terre des Hommes. You must help me. We are going to pick up around 20 war-wounded Vietnamese children tomorrow at 06.30 at Fuhlsbüttel Airport. They must be transported to the hospital in Barmbeck. Are you able to do it?
- Of course we can, Anna. I will provide free access to the airport. We arrive exactly at 06. Is it okay?
- Thank you. But we have no money to pay with, Finn?
- It does not matter. We come for free. Goodbye!
A glimmer of light in the dark. Finally something that doesn't cost money. How grateful I am.

More than once I have experienced that precisely at Falck, decisions are made by people, not by bureaucrats.
Then I call SAS - Scandinavian Airlines - in Fuhlsbüttel.
There is already word that 42 disabled children will arrive tomorrow on a Sterling Airways flight. Of course! 'The Danish priest' was Ejlif Krogager, owner of Tjæreborg Rejser and the airline Sterling Airways.
Now everything is arranged for the 20 who are going to hospital. But what about the others? Tonight it is too late to find orphanage places. So I have to find private homes. I call all imaginable acquaintances where I know that 1-2 children can be accommodated for a night or two. And who can get up in the morning. Soon I will have more places promised than there are children for. Then that's done too.

Now I only have to worry about money. Otherwise, it all ends in disaster anyway. When the citizen representation does not want to help, I have to go to the press. I am writing a letter to the big newspaper 'Hamburger Abendblatt', telling everything about the children's arrival, about the negotiations with Professor Bernbek and, of course, also about my unsuccessful attempt to get free seats through the citizens' representation. So I am asking readers to support Terre des Hommes for this purpose.
I just manage to get the letter posted in time, so that the reporter (if the newspaper can see the story otherwise) can get to the reception at the airport tomorrow and report in the same evening's newspaper.
A few hours are spent writing begging letters. Now to some big companies in Hamburg. Money, money, money is now the most important thing. Money, money, always this damn money. You want to do a whole lot more, but then comes the eternal problem: Money.
I sit and get so furious: Never has a war been decided or ended because you couldn't pay. But when it comes to the innocent victims of war, the big men do not think of giving the least. So private individuals have to beg for the money together to give the victims of the wars something to live on and for! In war and through war, great money is made by some and great advantages are obtained for others. Imagine if just 1% of the profits made by the armor industry were spent on the victims who have paid the price for their billion dollar profits - to make amends for what the warmongers had destroyed. Then many post-war problems could be solved. It would of course be best if wars could be avoided altogether. Then there would be no victims either. But of course no profit either!
A few hours of sleep. Then it's time to leave for the airport. Once again I throw my leather bag over my shoulder and drop a note to my neighbor:
- I'm going on a trip again! Mrs Johansen soon knows it inside out. She is also my contact address, to whom I can turn in an emergency if I have forgotten something or have forgotten to give someone a message. In other words: Mrs Johansen acts as my unpaid private secretary. She knows all about my crazy ideas and knows what to do in that case. At a little after 6 I am in the arrivals hall in Fuhlsbüttel.
As always, there is - despite the time - great cheer. Everyone runs between each other like in an anthill, and the comparison holds, because they all know where they are going. People in large numbers stand in front of the various roadblocks. Some stand on tiptoe to better see if those they are waiting for come out. Or if there is just someone they know. I go to the service desk and say:
- I have to pick up children from Vietnam! How do I get to the airport?
- Are you Frau Lorenzen? I nod.. Then you just come in here. Everything is ready for reception. I will bring you a companion. Alone they will never get through.
- Thank you for that , I say - and come out right where the plane will shortly roll to the stairs. My companion follows me to a slightly secluded spot on the flight area.
- This is where the machine will go, he says. Just wait!
So I do that.
Let the nuts alone for a while. Then I spot three vehicles with the Falck brand. They roll towards me. I know them by the 'silver falcon' logo. Two ambulances and a minibus. Finn Brenfeld gets off the bus and says hello.
- Shut up, Anna! Yes, here we are. Do you have more information about the children?
- Well, unfortunately, Finn! But we'll see. Thank you very much for your help... Well, there we have the press people. I am pleased. A group of journalists and press photographers set up with cameras is slowly coming towards us. I had hoped for it, but did not dare to count on it, that the journalists would come to the airport. Now there are even more, and my hopes that money will come from the public are growing.
- Are you Mrs. Lorenzen?
- Yes!
- Can you already say something about the children? How many are there? What injuries do they have?
- So far I only know that 20 of the children will stay here in Hamburg. The rest will be flown on to Copenhagen tomorrow. The children who stay here are taken to an orthopedic clinic for treatment and care. They are missing arms and legs.
- Which clinic?
- Everyone must go to see Professor Bernbek in Barmbeck.
The conversation, which was also followed by the other magazines' journalists, is suddenly interrupted. A Sterling Airways plane that has just landed drives towards our stand and rolls carefully into place, directed by a man with a glowing wand. Finally it stops. I walk slowly towards the machine. Finn Brenfeld gives his Falckfolk a sign and follows me. The press photographers position themselves where they expect to get the best photos. Then comes the moment that has remained vividly clear in my memory: At the top of the stairs, a young man with lots of hair and a beard comes forward with a child on his arm. He looks like someone who comes straight from the battlefield and has just saved this child. And that's exactly what he has. The cameras flash and click. This first picture will grace the front pages of the newspapers tomorrow: Here a child comes directly from the hell of the Vietnam War to Hamburg. The child is blind. You can see its empty eye sockets. The scarred and wounded face. Instead of the right leg, a cloth-wrapped stump protrudes. The child is 6-8 years old. A war victim, whose life was just about to begin - and has now, at best, returned to a life as a war invalid.

Even seasoned press people got a lump in their throat.
You can see in the press people's faces how shocking this seems. No one can be untouched and no one is. They came to the airport to make a report about the arrival of some children from a distant world - and suddenly see themselves as some kind of war reporters. Must go home and tell about a cruel war that has come to Hamburg and whose victims are not soldiers but children. The purest victims of innocence. The most hideous and heart-rending face of war.
Then the other children are carried down the stairs. A horrible picture of the jammer. A 3-year-old little girl with only one leg and one arm. Another blind little boy. Children with primitive crutches trying to move forward.
The Falck people have enough to do. The children must get in the cars. You can see in these men, who are otherwise used to seeing accident victims and bloody car accidents, that this gets under their skin. This is not about people who, due to crazy driving or a lack of care with themselves and the lives of others, have been killed or injured. Here it is about innocent victims of a war, led by adults, who do not count in life and death, but in statistics. Who cynically considers that with so and so much explosives and so and so much napalm, with so many bombs and mines, so much ammunition and so many soldiers' lives, one can conquer so and so much land and take possession of so and so many values.
The oldest of the journalists says to me: - My God! I participated in the war in Europe - also the heavy air raids on Hamburg in 1943-44. There were also many victims, but most of the children had been sent out of Hamburg - to the countryside. Most survived, however, and very few were treated as horribly as these children. Straight from the battlefield, here come innocent children who have been ruthlessly maimed by the war. For me, it is as if the war has come to Hamburg again.
- This damned war is everywhere, I answer him. Humans obviously cannot solve problems in other ways. It is our task to help the innocent whose lives have been ruined by the madmen of war. These war children cannot be helped in their homeland. Then the rest of us must ensure that they can be helped in our peaceful surroundings.

^ The newspapers were kind enough to put not only Anna Lorenzen's and Terre des
Hommes' names, but also the number of the newly created collection account!

The children are mute. They anxiously look around in the completely unfamiliar surroundings and do not understand what is being said around them. But here at least there is no shooting. Here, no napalm falls from the sky, burning and destroying everything it comes into contact with. They are undoubtedly homesick for their parents, siblings, grandparents, who continue to be exposed to the horrors of war day and night without protection. Will they ever get to see and hear them again?
The little boy, who Henning Becker – for him was the first to come out on the flight stairs – is carried to the ambulance. He clings to Becker. Won't let go of him. Becker had taken the boy from a village and accompanied him to this distant land. Becker is the last piece of homeland for the little, blind boy. He won't let go of that. The boy does not cry, as the Falck people take his arms from Becker's neck as gently as this sort of thing can be done now, but you can see on the little boy's tormented face how much he suffers when he has to part with Becker. The last thread to the home he was taken from. Henning Becker comes to me. I admire this young man who took his matriculation exam at the Danish high school in Flensburg and then immediately signed up for Terre des Hommes Denmark. Who without hesitation was prepared to throw himself into the war to save children. After all, it is not the institutions that help, but the people who risk their own lives to save others.
- Here are the children's papers, says Henning Becker. They are put together to be able to take them out of Vietnam. It didn't cost much in bribes, but we managed it. Not everything in the papers is true. Never mind! The main thing is that we saved these children.
- You have done a fantastic job, I tell him. Here I will do what I can to continue your efforts.
The press photographers are tireless to capture in flash moments this unusual experience even for the world city of Hamburg. We are bombarded with questions:
- Where did you find these children? Where are the children going now? Who finances this action? The last sentence was the key word for me. The best opportunity to start a collection through the press:
- Everything comes only from voluntary contributions, I say straight into TV cameras, photography equipment and microphones. For the children who stay here in Hamburg, there is no money to pay with. On that point, Professor Bernbek i Barmbeck and I are so far alone. The citizens' representation has not wanted to grant anything for the purpose, nor has it wanted to give free places in the city's hospitals. So we hope for private gifts. Perhaps you, dear press people, could help us with that! Shortly before we left the airport, one of the reporters pulls me aside and says in a voice that reveals a lump in his throat:
- We look at daily pictures in the newspapers from the horrific war, and we see its victims on television every night. It eventually becomes a habit and most people switch to another channel for a crime drama or something else that can provide entertainment or excitement while they eat chips, nuts and drink a few beers. You know, Mrs. Lorenzen! I must honestly say that today I feel as if I myself have fought that war. With such impressions on one's retina one cannot simply move on to the next item on the agenda. I must give you my warmest thanks and admiration because you and your colleague care about these children and their fate!

zzz

The 20 have now been taken to Barmbeck Hospital by Falck's rescue team. Waiting in front of the airport are the 'foster parents' I have teamed up to take care of the last children until I have found a place for them in various orphanages and later found a shared place of residence. The idea is to bring them together in one place so that they can preserve their Vietnamese culture, speak Vietnamese to each other - and most importantly: be taught in their own language. The idea is that when the war out there is over, they will go back to their own country.
In Barmbeck Almen-Sygehus, everything is prepared. By moving other children together, it has been possible to place the recently arrived Vietnamese children in one large room. Head nurse Irmgard and two nurses take care of the small, new patients in a very touching way. But there doesn't seem to be much opportunity to get in touch with them. The children lie with serious faces in their freshly made, white beds. For both the nurses and the children, this is a completely unknown world. I have heard that in Vietnamese hospitals the children are always monitored - if they have family. There are e.g. no nursing staff to bring the patients food and other necessities. It is left to the family. There, the children lie on naked benches or maybe even just on the floor on spread newspapers. Anyone who wants to be admitted to a Vietnamese hospital must consider himself lucky if he or she has family nearby who can pay a bribe to the person in charge of admissions. Without it, hospitalization is impossible. This is precisely why in Vietnam you find so many injured and maimed children in the streets - completely left to fend for themselves in the throngs of the streets.
So this hospital should really be perceived by the children as Paradise. But the children's shyness, anxiety and, moreover, homesickness make any kind of contact impossible for the time being. Added to this are the language problems. No one at the hospital understands Vietnamese, which would probably have improved the possibility of contact otherwise. Professor Bernbek has asked me to come.
- Well, have you got your noisy kids settled? We'll go over there in a moment. I would like to see each patient's injuries and mutilations. He goes ahead at il pace. I have to stretch well to keep up. Then he opens the door and goes into the children's large room. Again, anxious looks at seeing the big man in a white coat. No reaction as he wants to extend his hand to the children.
- Here we seem to agree on what must be done first, he tells me. How is the country? Are you able to provide an interpreter. I would like to be able to ask each individual child how they got the injuries they now have - among other things, how they have been amputated.
- I will see to that immediately, I reply. There must be someone in Hamburg who speaks or just understands Vietnamese. Otherwise I have to contact Denmark and
get help there. I know for sure that Terre des Hommes Denmark has a trusted Vietnamese employee. If appropriate, we must translate from Vietnamese to Danish and then let me translate further into German. And finally, we have both hands and feet. Somehow we have to get in touch with the children.
Two nurses roll a cart with food into the living room, fill the plate with food and try with friendly smiles and hand gestures to get the children to eat. It doesn't work. Well, the poor children must be starving! I try to help one of the children with the food. The attempt is only partially successful. Apart from vegetables and fruit, I can't coax anything into the child. Who here has any idea what children in Vietnam eat? Besides, they are probably used to eating with chopsticks. On that point too, a Vietnamese interpreter seems indispensable. And what about the children who were accommodated privately? In the interview room, Professor Bernbek says:
- The administration has asked who pays the hospital? I didn't know what to answer to that. How is that even going, Ms. Lorenzen? We can always agree on my fee, but with the administration it is different.
- It's up to me, I say without hesitation, even though I haven't the slightest idea where I'm going to get the money from. My modest disability pension will be like a drop in the ocean. I'll probably get the money if I have to stamp them out of the ground. The citizen representation has said no, but leave it to me, professor!

All the newspapers were kind enough to put not only Anna Lorenzen's and Terre des Homme's names on the sensational story, but also the name and number of the collection account created (oval markings).

- You are an incredible woman, Mrs. Lorenzen, it comes from the professor. I'll jump on your bandwagon and look away from my fee.
- Thank you, Professor, I reply. I still can't bring myself to say 'Rupprecht' to the great professor. I take my leave, go round to the living room, where my 'foster children' lie - and note with satisfaction that their anxiety and insecurity are obviously returning. At least there is a decent amount of talk going on. With that in my ears, I take the bus home. That night it is difficult to sleep. Thoughts are constantly flying around about the money. How do I get them as I promised the professor? Hopefully the press reports provide something. The next day I write more begging letters. This time to various large companies in Hamburg. I put stamps on and on the way to the mailbox, I pass a kiosk, buy the 'Hamburger Abendblatt'. And get a shock!
- Are you crazy, Anna, I say to myself when I see how much space the press story gets.
The reception takes up almost the entire front page of Germany's second largest city's largest newspaper! And not least, I read how the newspaper has already opened a special account for Terre des Hommes! My worries fade a little. But I now put the beggar letters in the mailbox anyway.

<<Anna Lorenzen really had the press with her.

That day I will again go on a 'world trip'. First I visit the children at the hospital and note that they are slowly getting used to the new conditions. The contact with the nurses seems – despite the language problem – to be on the way to being resolved. Another light in the darkness. I am very relieved. The newspapers' appeal to people to support Terre des Hommes has a surprisingly high result.
I can hardly believe my eyes. Far more has been received than the hospital bill can cover. There is even a completely unsolicited donor who has found the press coverage extremely embarrassing: That a small, one-armed woman, who is also a disabled pensioner, has taken on the entire responsibility for the financing of this aid campaign:
Hamburg's Senate suddenly steps up with the necessary number of free seats in the hospital!

I am almost every day at the hospital and look after the children. As they are treated, fitted with orthopedic aids and undergo plastic surgery for the terrible napalm burns, the children are adopted, partly in Germany, partly in other countries. Nobody thought that maybe those children should come back to their homeland .

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Countries: Vietnam, Denmark, Germany

Organizations: Terre des Hommes Denmark