I think what triggered my memories of my most recent past life is a statement that I made when I was still an elementary school kid, sixth grade. Out of the blue in front of my mom, I said “The Nazis are better than us.” I didn’t know why I said what I did, but I was severely corrected by my mother at the time. I had a friend over at the time, and even he told me “they would have killed you just for being different.”
As a teenager, I openly accepted reincarnation (and still do today) as fact. Over time, I started to get fragments of memories of what I assume is my most recent past life (as I have no memories of, nor interest in the 50's-1983, the year I was born in this life). From what I have been able to piece together, I was a German soldier in World War Two, stationed on the Eastern Front. I was part of an anti-tank battalion, and I believe that I was shot by a Russian sniper in 1943.
I believe that I was born with battle scars in this life, as I was born with slight hearing loss, and I’ve got a single birthmark right between my shoulder blades where I believe a Russian sniper ended my life. I suppose if he couldn’t get a clean head shot on me, that would have been the next best place.
The first memory that came to me was saying my last goodbye to my wife before shipping out. I get the impression that she and her family were fanatically devoted to Hitler, and were beaming with pride to have at least one son in the German armed forces and now too, a son-in-law. I feel as though I was not so fond of Hitler, but since I loved my wife, I kept quiet and pretended to support Hitler and his dream for Germany. I remember telling my wife what a great life we would have together when the war was over, and I was back home. We had a little daughter (2 years old at the oldest), and my wife was pregnant with another child when I left. I remember that she didn’t want to let go of me, so I just stood there and let her hold me because I knew how much that moment meant to her. And the memory just faded into black.
I have a memory of being saluted by two young boys on the side of a road somewhere in Germany while in the process of shipping out, and I remember smiling because it gave me a sense that perhaps there really was a reason to go to war and that the people were behind us. The memory fades with me smiling.
I have a memory of lying face down (but I know it’s me) in the snow with a small red blood stain to the left side of my body in the snow. The first time I had that memory, I got the sense it was 1943. There’s no sound at all, just quiet. I get the sense that there’s action all around me, but I don’t hear it or see it. I’m just looking down at my body in the snow.
In this life, I can’t watch a WWII movie without rooting for both sides. I’ve reflected on this past life, and the Russian sniper who killed me, wherever he is, I wish I could tell him that it’s okay. I don’t hold a grudge. We were all playing our own parts in this experience. Part of me wants to fully explore this past life but the other part feels that if I put all the puzzle pieces together that somehow its significance will be lost, if that makes sense. Because that person was me in another life, and it was a tragic death, so I don’t want to dishonor that life in any way. Maybe it’s best not to dig things up?? I do want to give a big salute to everyone who died in WWII on all sides, because all of us brave souls who volunteered to experience this terrible war, and made the ultimate sacrifice, deserve recognition.
Sorry if I’m rambling....
As a teenager, I openly accepted reincarnation (and still do today) as fact. Over time, I started to get fragments of memories of what I assume is my most recent past life (as I have no memories of, nor interest in the 50's-1983, the year I was born in this life). From what I have been able to piece together, I was a German soldier in World War Two, stationed on the Eastern Front. I was part of an anti-tank battalion, and I believe that I was shot by a Russian sniper in 1943.
I believe that I was born with battle scars in this life, as I was born with slight hearing loss, and I’ve got a single birthmark right between my shoulder blades where I believe a Russian sniper ended my life. I suppose if he couldn’t get a clean head shot on me, that would have been the next best place.
The first memory that came to me was saying my last goodbye to my wife before shipping out. I get the impression that she and her family were fanatically devoted to Hitler, and were beaming with pride to have at least one son in the German armed forces and now too, a son-in-law. I feel as though I was not so fond of Hitler, but since I loved my wife, I kept quiet and pretended to support Hitler and his dream for Germany. I remember telling my wife what a great life we would have together when the war was over, and I was back home. We had a little daughter (2 years old at the oldest), and my wife was pregnant with another child when I left. I remember that she didn’t want to let go of me, so I just stood there and let her hold me because I knew how much that moment meant to her. And the memory just faded into black.
I have a memory of being saluted by two young boys on the side of a road somewhere in Germany while in the process of shipping out, and I remember smiling because it gave me a sense that perhaps there really was a reason to go to war and that the people were behind us. The memory fades with me smiling.
I have a memory of lying face down (but I know it’s me) in the snow with a small red blood stain to the left side of my body in the snow. The first time I had that memory, I got the sense it was 1943. There’s no sound at all, just quiet. I get the sense that there’s action all around me, but I don’t hear it or see it. I’m just looking down at my body in the snow.
In this life, I can’t watch a WWII movie without rooting for both sides. I’ve reflected on this past life, and the Russian sniper who killed me, wherever he is, I wish I could tell him that it’s okay. I don’t hold a grudge. We were all playing our own parts in this experience. Part of me wants to fully explore this past life but the other part feels that if I put all the puzzle pieces together that somehow its significance will be lost, if that makes sense. Because that person was me in another life, and it was a tragic death, so I don’t want to dishonor that life in any way. Maybe it’s best not to dig things up?? I do want to give a big salute to everyone who died in WWII on all sides, because all of us brave souls who volunteered to experience this terrible war, and made the ultimate sacrifice, deserve recognition.
Sorry if I’m rambling....
