Transcript
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The rest of the story. Blanche Jensen, 72, homeless, except for the refuge of a farmhouse near the German village of Ziegendorf. February 1945. The beginning of the end of Germany in the Second World War. And the Russians are coming. The Russians are swarming through the German countryside, looting homes, brutalizing villagers and farm families. And yet the farmhouse where the widow Jansen has sought refuge will be spared the rampaging. For what awaits any Russian soldiers who might happen to pass by is what you might call a scarecrow. A scarecrow sewn together by Blanche Jansen. You see, Mrs. Jensen and her physician husband were American citizens. They were living in the German city of Dresden. Dr. Janssen died during the war. Blanche was elderly and alone when Dresden burst into flames. Not even the Nazis, the masters of the inconceivable, not even they could conceive of an Allied air attack on that glorious city. Defenseless, tactically irrelevant, Dresden had been known for centuries as a world capital of elegance. A showplace of priceless art treasures, splendid architecture, not to mention the birthplace of some of the world's finest and most famous China. Then, in February 1945, the unimaginable became a reality. The Allies descended from the skies and Dresden died a death at once incredibly swift and agonizingly slow. 1200 British and American bombers. 14 hours. 1600 acres engulfed in a fiery hurricane. 75, 000 homes destroyed. An estimated 135, 000 lives lost. Twice as many as died at Hiroshima. And yet many more were not lucky enough to die in the streets. The mutilated living cried out, begging their fleeing neighbors to shoot them. Rescue vehicles bound for the countryside refused to accept any animal, no matter how small. And so hundreds of beloved pets were put to death so that their masters might be spared. Was on one such rescue vehicle that 72 year old Blanche Jensen was transported to safety after 48 hours of huddling in the ruins of Dresden. Yet the remote farmhouse to which she came was almost as vulnerable as that marvelous city had been. So how is it recorded that Mrs. Jensen survived, survived the war and the aftermath and then returned to the United States? Well, Mrs. Jensen made a scarecrow. She sewed it together from the clothing of fellow refugees. One woman's flannel nightgown, another woman's apron. And the scarecrow worked. It kept at bay the notorious victorious Russians who otherwise would surely have ransacked the farmhouse. And perhaps worse. In fact, the farmhouse where Mrs. Jansen stayed developed such a reputation for security that soon the families from neighboring farms were beseeching Blanche to safekeep their most valued possessions. The homemade scarecrow was spared. Also, it was handed down to Blanche's daughter, who now prizes it above all that she has. And maybe it is a special prize on this particular day. Today you see what the resourceful Mrs. Jansen had manufactured on an old treadle sewing machine from a despised red Nazi banner and a white flannel nightgown and a blue kitchen apron. And then displayed above her farmhouse door was Old Glory. That's right, the American flag. Now you know the rest of the story.