“He was a wonderful husband.” That’s what Freya von Moltke told me about the man who was executed by Hitler’s government in January, 1945.
Helmuth James von Moltke died as a hero of conscience, unjustly found guilty of treason, along with others who opposed the terrible crimes of the Nazis. They took leading roles in the German resistance, a movement that still shines out from the spiritual darkness that enveloped their nation at that time.
Now 89 (90 in March) years old and living in Vermont, his widow remembers him with love and admiration for his courage. He himself was enabled to face suffering and death in large part because of his wife’s loving support.
A record of their relationship, as well as of this terrible period of history, is found in the English-language volume called “Letters to Freya: 1939 – 1945” published by Knopf in 1990. These letters were hidden by Freya in her beehives, for fear the police would find them; some of them were published soon after the war.
The letters reveal the qualities of soul required of anyone who dared oppose Hitler’s ruthless regime. Helmuth James, as he was called, drew upon his own religious faith especially as expressed in the New Testament. Though his parents were Christian Scientists, he grew up as a Lutheran Christian, a faith that deepened as he faced the end.
A paragraph from the last of his letters shows how he saw the meaning of his life: “Dear heart, my life is finished and I can say of myself: He died in the fullness of years and of life’s experience. This doesn’t alter the fact that I would gladly go on living and I would gladly accompany you a bit further on this earth. But then I would need a new task from God. The task for which God has made me is done.”
At this time Helmuth James was only thirty-seven years old. Though he would have wanted to live longer, united with his wife and their two young sons, he dared to recognize in faith that the purpose of his life was fulfilled. He was ready to die as a witness to the truth.
The story of the Moltkes is not well known to Americans, unfortunately. The two generals of the same name – one who led German troops in the Franco-Prussian War, the other the chief general at the beginning of World War I – stand out prominently in the historical record. However, when you look at what really counts, the life and death of Helmuth deserves to be remembered.
Dartmouth College, to its credit, gave an honorary degree to Freya von Moltke at its graduation ceremony last spring. She was honored in recognition of her own stature as a person and of the history of her family.
When I spoke to her recently, Freya said of the era, “It was a very high period in my life.” She also said: “Germans are lucky there were a few who died in all conscience against Hitler.” In talking with her, I felt myself to be encountering some of their history and thus sharing in some small way in their spiritual legacy.
Freya does not romanticize her husband’s heroism but retains a realistic sense of his values. She told me, for instance, that Helmuth James was not opposed to violence in every circumstance. “He was against silly wars,” she said, “but he was not a pacifist.” He did not share, it seems, the view that Hitler should be assassinated because he feared that action might make it harder to reconstruct Germany on principles of law and universal justice. So he did not take part in the famous attempt on Hitler’s life in July 1944.
Helmuth James was a leader in what came to be called the Kreisau Circle, a group of Germans who were planning for the time when their country could be restored as a law- abiding member of the international community. The group took its name from the town where the Moltke family estate was located. The place is now located in Poland and has become a center where Poles, Germans, and people from other nations can come to strengthen bonds across national boundaries.
Freya sees this center as a sign of hope. “That’s very beautiful. They will make is a success.”
Richard Griffin