A personal story of reconciliation

Tomorrow I travel to Dresden, Germany as part of a party from Coventry to join in with the commemorations marking 70 years since that city was bombed.  The two cities were both (along with many others) devastated by bombing in the course of World War II.  After Coventry was bombed in 1940, leaving the cathedral completely destroyed, the people of the cathedral community made a decision to seek peace and reconciliation, and to build bridges between warring peoples.  This vital work still continues today.   A symbol of this reconciliation is the friendship that exists between Dresden and Coventry, the two stricken cities.  Our visit tomorrow will be a statement of solidarity as we stand side by side with our brothers and sisters to declare that love must overcome hate.  It will be a privilege to represent the church and city of Coventry over the weekend, but there is a deeply personal reason why the brief visit will be particularly poignant for me, and it's all to do with my grandparents ... this is a snapshot of their story ... The Buettner Wobst children in happier days in 1930s. Rike is 2nd from right.

Friedericke Luise Büttner-Wöbst (Rike) was born in 1926 as the youngest of 5 children in the village of Langebruck, on the outskirts of Dresden. Her father was the village doctor and they owned one of the only cars in the village. In the thirties they met and befriended Fred Clayton, a young Englishman from Liverpool - a Classics scholar from King's College, Cambridge where he had become good friends with Alan Turing amongst others. Fred was in Dresden tutoring in English, and it was through this tutoring that he met the Büttner-Wobst family. Fred left Germany when it became clear that Germany was becoming more of a hostile place under the rule of Adolf Hitler. A novel, ‘The Cloven Pine’ was published under the pseudonym of Frank Clare and served as a warning about the growing danger of Nazism.

The Büttner-Wobst family were happy and stable. Rike was confirmed in Dresden's Kreuzkirche. Then war broke out and everything changed. Tragedy struck the family when the eldest son, Götz, was shot and killed by a sniper in the invasion of Poland in September 1939. He was only 17, and his parents in particular were broken-hearted. They died within a year of their son's death. Rike and her siblings were orphaned, and life was far from secure.

Then in February 1945 the city of Dresden was destroyed. Thankfully, Rike was working on a farm outside the city when the bombs struck, but she knew people who had been killed by the bombing. Then the Russians arrived, anxious for vengeance. They gravitated towards the Büttner-Wobst house and their car. Rike was held at gunpoint and managed to talk herself out of being raped.

Meanwhile, Fred had begun the war at Bletchley Park. His skills as a linguist and love for the way that language worked made him the perfect code breaker. Although his fluency in German meant he was well-suited to the work at Bletchley, his superior officers were suspicious of his potential German sympathies, and he himself felt he'd had a too 'easy' war, so volunteered to go out to India to break Japanese codes.

Fred had not forgotten his German friends. After the war finished, he wrote to find out how they'd got on. Rike replied that the future looked grim as the likelihood was of Russia being in control of East Germany. However, during this time, something unexpected happened - as they exchanged correspondence, Rike and Fred fell in love. He sorted out the paperwork and enabled Friedericke to flee Dresden. They married in Liverpool in 1948 and soon moved to Exeter, where Fred began work as a Professor of Classics. Rike (Anglicised to "Rikki") began life in a foreign land - the land which had only recently been at war with her homeland.

Rike outside the doorway of her childhood home on a visit in 2000.  Above the doorway is the inscription, "Do right and fear no-one".

Rike and Fred were my grandparents. I had the privilege of visiting Dresden in 2000 with her and seeing my family's old home. Until I came to Coventry as a Vicar, I had no idea about the connections between this city and the one of my grandmother's birth, and particularly between Coventry Cathedral and the Kreuzkirche, where my grandmother was confirmed.

I find it incredibly significant to be visiting this city at the time of the 70th anniversary commemorations of the Dresden bombing, because, through my grandparents, reconciliation is in my blood. By being part of the commemorations and bringing their story back to life, hopefully it'll make a statement that love wins over hate - it's a message our world so desperately needs to hear.