I have known my past life as a German soldier since the age of three, or possibly a bit earlier. It is the only past life I'm aware of. Here's a brief summary of my experience ... Around the age of three I tried to involve my aunt in a 'war game' in which I told her who I was, and how I died. Her reaction was horror and anger that I should even say the word 'German'. This put so much shame into me that I never told my parents, and tried to put it out of my mind for nearly 40 years. However, throughout childhood I continued to have nightmares every night, reliving my death in Stalingrad (by flame thrower) over and over. Although I had pushed my identity into the back of my mind, it came out in many other ways. Certainly my obsession with tanks, which my family found inexplicable. I would dress in military-style clothing when young, and was obsessive about the smartness of my school uniform. The beginning of school term after the summer was a high spot because going back into uniform was a heart-lifting experience. I always loved order and self-discipline. I did hang a German recruitment poster on the bedroom wall, but if my family had thoughts on that I never knew. In middle age I found a German-Jewish friend I could at last confide in and the memories came pouring out. Other than that I have lived a life mainly 'in hiding' as I felt too guilty ever to open up to my parents. It is only in the past few years, since the death of my parents, that I have spoken about such things to other people, and then only to a couple of good friends I can trust. Today I am anti-war, anti-politics. There are things I saw in war that I don't ever want to speak of. I was a very ordinary soldier, doing my duty (sometimes reluctantly) but uneasy about the Nazi ideology even then. Having said that, the sight of the old battle flag makes my heart soar, as do the old marching songs. I feel more like a war veteran than someone with a past life. It's still with me, almost every hour of the day. I have never come to terms with the loss of my Kameraden, and feel great sadness every day. One in particular I loved dearly, and still do. I find it hard to understand why I have not been reunited with him in this life. Last year I wrote a memoir - in the form of a novel - which I haven't yet tried to have published as I don't know where to send it. My whole story of discovery is in there. It was 'dictated' (at talking pace) by my former self before I did any research or any kind of investigation into the subject, and the style was nothing like my present self would have written. In addition to that, my former self did the same thing (at the same pace) with a series of war poems set in and around a German cemetery. There are things which my present self would not have thought, known or written in both cases. Only now have I begun to look at German archives etc., which has reinforced my experience, but not helped in finding my grave, which is sad but understandable. It is a relief to have discovered this forum, and although I am reluctant to share such things it is reassuring to have somewhere one can be believed without being thought a crank. I have never felt it necessary to prove anything. It would make no difference to me, only to other people. I hope someone here will find this interesting. There's a lot more I could say, but will leave till later.