My mom and family grew up in germany. Small town folks. My great grandfather was a blacksmith in a small village and my grandfather was a master mechanic. During WWII he didnt get drafted like most of the rest of the family because he was valuable at the homefront. Then very late in things, he was drafted into the luftwaffe and maintained planes. But not for very long. a few months after, the base was captured by canadians and he was in a POW camp a mere 10 miles from home. Before the war started, he had two BMWs. His main transport. When things started happening in the late30s, he sold one and dismantled the other, burying peices of it around the farm. See, they had been through these things before. While in the POW camp, he learned that the commander was a bike nut and had collected some 20 odd machines as the allies advanced. So gramps managed to become his fleet maintenance dude. THis helped him wrangle hall passes to go see his family down the road. After the war, he went home, dug up the bike and had transport so he could get working and rebuild thier cash and thier home. They rebuilt the home out of rubble. My mom and uncle digging up wheelbarrow loads of bricks. My grandad made his own mortar, plumbed and wired the house from scrap. My mom, skinny kid, rode that bike all over the place, running errands for my gramps. Once they had cash built up, canadian friends he had made while a POW helped him get his family moved to canada. Unfortunately they only brought a suitcase apeice. There were no photos of my gramps and the bike.
you are very lucky to have those pictures.