Margot
Woelk
was one of fourteen young women who served as food tasters for Adolph
Hitler, a
vegetarian who was paranoid about being poisoned. She
is now ninety-five years old and lives in
Berlin.
Margot
and the other girls
ate
well for three years during
the
war in Germany.
True,
the meals were all vegetables,
but
they were prepared by an exclusive chef
with
the finest fresh asparagus, bell peppers and sauces
served
with a side of pasta or rice
and
apple strudel for dessert.
There
were eggs for breakfast,
toast
with marmalade and oatmeal.
Margot
ate in the kitchen of the command center
called
the Wolf’s Lair, and was told
she
was a lucky girl because
she
was helping the fatherland.
Besides,
not many people could say
they
sampled the food
even
before The Fuehrer himself.
Seventy
years later, the thin
old
woman still complains.
Her
torment is not about her harrowing
escape
from the command center
as
the war wound down to an end,
or
being raped by Russian officers
during
the invasion of Berlin.
Only
close friends are aware
that
she still does not relish mealtimes.
Guests
do not find it odd that she toys
with
her food and prefers conversation to eating.
And
no one notices that her fork always pauses briefly
in
its arc from the plate to her mouth.
I
read the true story of Margot Woelk in a news article, and as often
happens, it inspired me to write a poem. I can't imagine eating
every meal and never knowing if it would be my last. At ninety
five, Margot still lives in the same apartment where she was born in
Berlin. Her story is a testimony to the resilience of the human
spirit and a reminder of the evil perpetrated by the Third Reich. |