Belonging: A German Reckons with History and Home

Krug uses photography as a motif in the memoir to present the human side of the figures that she investigated, evidence of her investigation, and one of many angles of examining history. The memoir contains many photographs, some from family albums, others from archives and flea markets, and faces, uniforms, and landscapes accompany Krug’s narration and illustrations. One striking example is the overlay of two photographs: one of her father, Franz-Karl, and one of her uncle, also Franz-Karl (who died in the war), creating a visual confrontation between past and present, and illustrating how Krug grappled with the way that Franz-Karl’s death affected her father and thus herself. In reference to confronting this reality through the combined image, she writes, “The new face that emerges looks directly at me” (72).

Photos come in contrasting forms and contexts, some depicting positive or wholesome aspects of the past and others showing its much darker side. Photos of female Nazi guards represent the dichotomy of good and evil, while images of forests, homes, and everyday German life convey how German culture has been lost amid this stain on history. A particularly poignant photograph shows her childhood home with an airplane taking off in the background, depicting the extent of denazification and living in the shadow of the era. Because of the natural ambiguity of photos and the fact that Krug often does not know who took them or why, they become unreliable narrators. They provoke questions rather than answers, diffusing the line between memory and fact while making history undeniable.

One of the central philosophical questions in Krug’s memoir is the question of good versus evil and how both often reside within a person. The memoir thematically explores The Personal and Moral Implications of Inherited History, including inherited evil, but she never finds clear answers or moral absolutes. Instead, she presents her family members and their stories in all their ambiguity, acknowledging that love and regret must coexist. Her grandfather, Willi, for example, described himself as a Mitläufer, or follower, neither actively resisting nor fully embracing Nazi ideology. Krug is unsettled by the knowledge that her grandfather did nothing to resist the Nazis and may have actually supported them. She wonders what this says about her, as someone who descended from this man.

The moral gray area extends to others as well. Albert (whose wife was Jewish) claims that Willi never judged or betrayed him, but another document shows that Willi’s membership in the Nazi Party lasted seven years. Willi claimed that this was necessary to secure a business during a time when his family was struggling to make ends meet. Krug wonders, then, why he had photos taken in his uniform. Like Willi, Franz-Karl the first was described as a radiant and well-meaning man, but his decision to enlist with the SS haunts Krug. Krug does not reach a clean conclusion in the end; this emotional stance, honest in its lack of resolution, illustrates the extent of this ethical question.

The Nazi regime and the Holocaust create a disturbing and powerful backdrop for Krug’s memoir of family discovery. Her investigation was largely motivated by her desire to know just how involved her ancestors were with the Nazis. The silence and shame that many German people display illustrates The Personal and Moral Implications of Inherited History. Krug grew up in postwar Germany, where the atrocities of the past were taught yet never fully understood or accepted. This confusion led to both emotional distance and a desire to connect and Finding One’s Homeland and a Place to Belong.

Krug’s father, Franz-Karl, was born just after the war, while his brother, also named Franz-Karl, died at 18 while serving in the SS. That generational divide mirrors Krug’s own experience of being stuck between guilt and acceptance. Her maternal grandfather, Willi, claimed he joined the Nazi party only to secure a business opportunity, labeling himself a Mitläufer, yet photographs of him in uniform and contradictory evidence lead Krug to doubt what her grandfather said. In the end, she must accept that he made mistakes and that it is not her duty to atone for them.

Images of bombs, Nazi propaganda, SS officers, and Hitler are scattered throughout the memoir. These scrapbook-style visuals add realism and emotionality to the work, while also creating emotional ambiguity. The pictures humanize people whose actions were often inhumane. Krug questions not just what happened but how to live with it. World War II and the Nazi regime thus symbolize inherited history.