On this particular evening I felt myself to be face to face with history. This feeling was inspired by the handsome white-haired woman who was a fellow guest in my friends’ home. The history through which she lived remains both tragic and heroic.

That memorable evening gave me the opportunity to talk with someone who witnessed a terrible time in 20th-century Europe. The climax came in January of 1945 when her husband was executed ─ or, rather, murdered ─ for his role in the anti-Nazi resistance.

Freya von Moltke and her husband deserve to be better known to the American public than they are. Dartmouth College gave her an honorary degree in 1999, but most people in this country have never heard of her and her family.

Longtime resident in Vermont, she celebrated her 96th birthday last March. She enjoys remarkably good health and displays the vigor of mind and body of a person much younger.

Her last name ranks as among the most famous in German history. Members of earlier generations would have associated the name with Helmuth von Moltke, the field marshal who led Prussia to victory both in its war against Austria in 1866 and in the Franco-Prussian war that ended in 1871. These triumphs helped to bring about the creation of modern Germany.

When World War I broke out, the field marshal’s nephew, another Helmuth von Moltke, was the general who commanded the German army.

Fortunately, as I was told by Freya’s son, also present that evening, members of the younger generations in today’s Germany are now much more likely to associate the name with Helmuth James Von Moltke, the martyr to peace who died in the spring of 1945. The identities of the military leaders have faded, while the reputation of the von Moltke who was a leader in the resistance to Hitler has bloomed.

In a brief memoir, Freya has written about her husband and the efforts he made to prepare his country for the time when Hitler’s regime would come to an end. Helmuth James himself was committed to non-violence because of his spiritual idealism and his belief in democratic institutions.

Though he longed for an end to the Nazi regime, he believed that the chances of a coup being successful were slim. Ultimately, for the nation’s long ordeal to end, Hitler had to destroy himself.

Helmuth James belonged to a group called the Kreisau Circle. Its name derived from the estate near the eastern border with Poland, bought by the field marshal with money given him for his wartime leadership. It was to that place that Helmuth brought his bride Freya in 1931.

Members of the Kreisau Circle had somewhat differing agenda. Helmuth, for his part, looked toward the day when peace would come; he wanted to work with the allies to create democratic institutions that would renew his country. Unfortunately, his arrest in late 1944 brought his efforts to an end.

After World War II, Kreisau reverted to Polish sovereignty. It has since become an international center for the promotion of peace among nations and their people. Freya and members of her family take great interest in this center, feeling pride in its accomplishments.

George Kennan, the most notable American diplomat of his era, called Helmuth von Moltke “the greatest person morally, and the largest and most enlightened in his concepts that he met on either side of the battle-lines in the Second World War.”

During the years of their marriage, Helmuth wrote frequent letters to his wife and some 1600 of them have survived. Those written during the war, many of them when he was in prison, have been published  

None of Freya’s letters to him have survived, however, a fact that she confirmed on the evening of our conversation. To make sure of that his letters did survive, she had hidden them in the beehives at their estate in Kreisau knowing that the house would probably be searched.

At this stage of her life, Freya von Moltke has outlived her husband by 62 years.. On March 11th of this year, along with the German chancellor, she attended a concert in Berlin in commemoration of Helmut’s birth, exactly 100 years before.

She quietly cherishes the memory of this man of great vision and personal courage, though in conversation she does not indulge in sentimentality.

As I conceive of it, her strength of character draws continuing sustenance from her spouse’s life and death. Hers is a legacy rich in personal and spiritual achievement. She also has the rare good fortune of ongoing contact with an institution that forms part of this legacy.

More than old photos and letters ever can, this peace center, in the place that is now called Krzyżowa, gives ongoing shape to some of the ideals for which she and her husband sacrificed so much.

Richard Griffin