Jim Maechling, a Peninsula High School history instructor, tells the story of returning a family heirloom.

I have a family heirloom. It carries a story with it that I've cherished most of my life. It is a wooden box made of walnut, inlaid with other woods. Two exquisitely hand-carved roses with delicate thorns rest on top next to the letters "MM". Those were my mother's initials. She had received the box as a gift from her brother, a Catholic priest by the name of Father John.

An early childhood memory is of the box resting high on a dresser in my parent's bedroom safely out of my reach. Although it could have been used for jewelry, I think it contained their important papers such as deeds and insurance policies. I always admired the beauty of the box when they took it down and showed it to visitors. They said it had been constructed by a master wood-carver. When I was a little older, Father John, our favorite uncle, always rich with fascinating stories, enhanced my appreciation further.

The box was made during World War II by a captured German soldier - a prisoner-of-war at Camp Clark, Missouri. Father John, fluent in German and Italian, was the Catholic chaplain at the camp. He told us that the prisoner made the box for his sweetheart back home in Germany. The small masterpiece had been crafted lovingly, hour by hour, over a long period of time. The most incredible part of the story to me was the fact that the only wood-working tools he was allowed to use were a razor blade and a piece of glass!

When the war was over, for some reason, the prisoner was not permitted to take the box back home to Europe with him. So he gave it to his friend Father John. It could have been Father John who provided the man with the building materials as well as the inspiration to make the box. My only other boyhood recollection of this was that the captured soldier had been fighting in the army of General Erwin Rommel, the legendary "Desert Fox" of Hitler's Afrika Corps. Also, that these soldiers were so confident of Germany's eventual victory that some of them dismissed reports of D-Day and VE- Day as Allied propaganda. This intriguing aspect was typical of so many of Father John's stories that sparked in me a life-long interest in history.

After Mom died almost 20 years ago, the box went to my older brother. A couple years ago, he gave it to me. About a month ago, for a reason I can't explain, I turned the box upside down and took a closer look at the bottom. I got out a magnifying glass. Very faded and faintly written in a difficult old-style German script, is a man's name, a date of birth, a town in Austria, Camp Clark Missouri, and the date June 29, 1943-presumably the date of its completion. I have often discussed the story of this beautiful box with my wife, Jeanne. That night we mused about how amazing it would be to actually find the man after all these years if he were still alive. However, this would be highly unlikely since he would have to be close to ninety years old.

An interesting coincidence was the date: June 29th. It was exactly the same day on which the man finished the box fifty-seven years earlier. It crossed my mind that this little sign should not go unrecognized. Also on that same day, a faculty friend of mine named Lis Fritsch who works in the school library where I teach, told me that she was leaving on a vacation to her homeland in Austria the next week. When I told her about the box, she said she would be happy to call upon any persons with his family name to try and trace him. Jeanne scanned an enlarged photo of the bottom of the box and we took a couple digital photos for Lis to take with her in case she got lucky. The results of her Austrian search seem almost miraculous to me now. Lis discovered that this man is in fact still alive and living near Vienna, Austria! Then she called him on the telephone. Of course, this conversation was in German. After establishing her identity, and that he was indeed the man who had been a POW in Camp Clark, Missouri during World War II, she asked him an interesting question:

"When you were a prisoner in America, do you remember getting anything from a priest. and that you made something out of it?" There was a pause. "Die kassette (the box). Die schmuck kassette (the jewelry box). I made it for my wife. Does someone have it? I was remembering it, wondering about it just a few weeks ago." In a few days she visited his home. His astonished eyes carefully inspected the photograph of the walnut kassette. It had been fifty-seven years. He was thrilled to know that his labor of love had been safely preserved because it holds such deep sentimental value. The war, his years as a prisoner, and especially the memory of his departed wife whose initials were "MM". His wish is that it be passed on to their daughter to be kept as an heirloom.

The man's name is Stephan Millesich. His late wife's name was Maria. He married again about ten or fifteen years ago. Lis spoke to him for almost two hours. He has clear recollection of his war experiences. He said he was a battallion commander under Rommel. Eighty soldiers in his group were captured by the Americans because of a mistake they made. Before they were fully prepared to fight, they fired their guns to clear them for readiness. The Americans, who actually were ready, thought it was an attack, moved in quicklyand captured them. They were transported to America on a passenger ship. From time to time they were paraded on deck to be displayed as human shields as protection against the hostile German submarines in the area.

The most interesting andendearing part of his story to me is his friendship with Father John.Stephan told Lis that the reason he gave the box to Fr. John was because the camp commander was eyeing it and he was afraid he would take it from him. By giving it to Fr.John (who we know admired wood craftsmanship), he could at least control its destiny a little. I would love to meet Stephan and learn all I can about his life - especially his friendship with Father John. If it were not for that fact that my daughter was recently married the week after Christmas, I would have traveled to Austria over the winter holidays to present the box to him myself.

Fortunately Lis went back there again over the vacation to visit her mother, so she took it along with her and presented it to him. He is nearly ninety and was overwhelmed when he finally had it in his hands. It was very gracious and generous of Lis to deliver it since Stephan's home is several hours drive from where she was staying. She has more details of the their meeting and I learn them all from her soon. Also, my sister Mary is planning a trip to Europe this spring and hopes to visit Stephan and his relatives. A definite connection has been made between our families. 

Returning the Past By Jim Maechling
Stephan Millesich, the German prisoner-of-war at Camp Clark, Missouri, during World War II and Stephan Millesich today who lives in Vienna, Austria.
Stephan Millesich and his extended family in Vienna today.
Lis returns Stephan's creation after more than sixty years last Christmas in Vienna, Austria. Stephan examines the wooden creation that he once made in prisoner camp.