In 1924 my mother and I joined my father in St. Louis where he had immigrated from Germany to seek employment and set up a home for us.
I did not hear or know much about the Lord Jesus until I was six when I started to go to Sunday school. Often I was afraid that the Lord had come and left me. Still, I didn’t accept the Lord Jesus as my Saviour until, when a senior in high school, I was invited by a friend to a gospel meeting and was saved.
My grandparents from Germany visited and wanted me to study mechanical engineering there. I went over in February 1939. A few months later, war was declared and I received notice to report for combat engineering training. It was a distressing time for me and my parents, but the words of a song comforted me: “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”
In October 1941, my unit was shipped towards Lithuania as far as Riga. In January 1942 I learned through the Red Cross that my father had passed away. Soon after I was ordered to report to weapon and ammunition school close to the Polish-German border, but one of the instructors who did not like America at all sent me back to my home base.
Not long after, I was sent to a division which was fighting on the Russian front. In one particular battle, I had to crawl through the grass towards the enemy. Thankfully they surrendered before I got into combat. As they were surrendering I noticed that the bolt of my rifle was open, so I would have been unable to fire the weapon! The Lord was very gracious, for the companies on either side of us had taken heavy casualties, while our company had none. I had never before been in battle. After the battle I became a driver for the company commander, so was spared from ever having to use a weapon.
In early 1945 our troops began pulling back to Hungary. We were slowly making our way towards Slovakia when the war ended. We immediately headed toward the American lines.
We were disarmed and remained in a camp run by the Americans. The camp was in the Russian zone. Before the Americans left, they had to turn us over to the Russians. We were marched into Austria and formed into “work-groups.” I was told that I would be an “electrician.” Later, a Russian soldier in charge of a temporary power plant put me in charge while he went home on leave. I knew nothing about generating and supplying electricity, but I knew the Lord would help me, and He did.
In December 1946, while loading grain into railroad cars, I slipped on ice and broke my arm. My arm was put in a cast, and after six weeks, with the cast crumbling away, the two bones still had not grown together. Nothing more was done, so I got a piece of two-inch wood and strapped it on my arm. Finally in March 1947 I was sent to a recovery camp.
That May several of us were brought to the entrance of the camp and our belongings checked for any valuables. My small New Testament, which was never taken during all the war, was left alone.
We were loaded on a truck, taken to a train depot, loaded into a box car and sent towards Poland. We were going home! Arriving in East Germany, we were taken to a camp and then sent by train to West Germany where we were turned over to the Americans.
What a surprise, one day not long after, to be told to come to the front office because I had a visitor. My dear fiancé, who had received news of my release by telegram, was standing there! Daily, many prayers had been made for my safe return by my loved ones and the saints gathered to His precious name in Detroit, where my mother was in fellowship.
After three operations, the bones in my arm healed and we were married April 10,1948. I have much to be thankful for, and I praise the Lord for all that He has done for me.
F. Gandras
Ed. Note: These excerpts have been adapted from a longer account which our brother has written for his family about his experiences in World War II.