Hans-Jürgen Massaquoi was born in Hamburg in 1926, son of a working-class German woman and a son of the Liberian consul general in the city. The liaison that produced him did not last — both mother and father were young to be parents, and his father returned to Ireland to continue his studies in law — though the connection to Liberia did. Hans’ grandfather, the consul, took them in to live at the consulate. Eventually he was recalled to Liberia; Hans and his mother remained in Hamburg. They lived in Barmbek, a working-class district of close quarters, small shops and businesses, and tight community. Hans always stood out because he was Black, the only Black child he knew of in Hamburg. That also meant that he grew up as a German kid among other German kids; there could be no question of a separate community for him because there simply wasn’t anyone else.

When he was seven, the Nazis came to national power. He remembers being disappointed about not being allowed to join the Hitler Youth, which from his perspective looked like a fun organization with cool uniforms. He also remembers a PE teacher from elementary school who kept moving the goals to ensure that he would never be able to meet them. Decades later when he wrote his memoirs the shame and the unfairness still hurt. Nazi regulations also meant that he was forbidden higher education and was tracked into vocational schooling followed by an apprenticeship. The close-knit nature of Barmbek sometimes worked in his favor. One night when he was stopped by an SS member and taken to the local police station as a loiterer and a hoodlum, the officer on duty recognized him as an apprentice at the same firm as another policeman’s son and closed the case with no further actions taken. It was of course just one of many reminders of his unequal status in the society of his birth, and the ways that arbitrary state power could change his life instantly, or even end it.

Ironically, Nazi racial laws may have kept him alive by barring his entry into the army. Many, many years later he learned more about what became of his school classmates, and the share of male classmates who died in the war was not small. Eventually, it was not just Germans who went to war; in due course the war came to Germany. Nearly all of Hans’ neighborhood was destroyed by Allied bombing. He and his mother relocated to a basement dwelling they found with help from Hans’ friend Ralph Giordano, who was half-Jewish and whose family survived the war in hiding.

Continue reading