The Man Behind the Tree ⇒ Buffalo Schnitzel

Read the article on this blog of Buffalo Schnitzel The Man Behind the Tree”. Read the touchy statement about the inherent psychologies of sexual abuse to think again the fact the blogger raised in this article.


“I remember my body automatically fighting his will to drag me further towards the houses not so far behind them. Every muscle in my body stiffened, fought; my hands clawed at the grass and mud as he dragged me forward.

It’s hard to recall actual thoughts at this point in time—except for one. I clearly remember wanting my mother and father in a way that still brings tears to my eyes as I write this. They were the people that came to mind, even as that mind shut down with fear.

Please, please!” I remember gasping, “Please don’t hurt me! Please!”

“When my lucidity returned, I was still laying on the ground—but the man was a shadow two or three feet away. He sat there on the ground, facing me, looking down.

I pulled myself up on shaky legs and stumbled over to my bicycle.

I remember little sounds coming out of my throat—cries, moans, the sound of fear. I grabbed my bicycle and somehow found the strength to mount it, and the whole time I watched him, expecting to be stopped.”

“I was wheeled to an examination room and my doctor had a blue Mohawk.

From what I recall, he asked me questions and checked out my battered face and legs. My clothes and shoes were taken away and I never saw them again.

Something that really confuses me is that I don’t believe I was given the type of examination that someone who might possibly have been raped is given. Very little attention was given to the vaginal area.

I’m inclined to believe it was because of what I’d said about biting the man. The immediate take on things was that I was strong, the hero of my own body, someone who had taken control and outmaneuvered (and better yet injured) her attacker.

Despite my gapped memory, I answered a barrage of questions from the doctor, the German police, and two members of the American military police who came in as well.

They offered me a social worker who I immediately disliked and refused to talk to so they finally asked her to leave.

Over and over they wanted to know things that I couldn’t remember.

How tall was he? Ethnicity? Was he German, for sure, or was he a non-native German speaker? What was he wearing?

I was shocked to realize that—despite the fact he’d smothered my body with his own—I could not remember anything more than the fact that he’d spoken German (though I wasn’t convinced it was his native language) and had dark hair.

Over and over I said, “I’m not sure. I’m not sure.”…

“Violent crime in Heidelberg, Germany is rare enough that a newspaper article was written about it, and the headline was, “Attacker Flees After Bite to Neck.” I still have it, and I still have the scrubs.”

“As a final note, I’ve never stopped thinking about that gap in my memory. Do I think I was raped? My honest thought is that I wasn’t. I would have experienced pain or soreness, afterwards, and my wounds were all limited to the face, arms, and legs.

But that doesn’t take away the fear that was introduced to my emotional responses. Whether it actually happened physically or not, I was violated. I know that other people have experienced a thousand times worse than what I did. I’ve read about it in the news, and it makes me sick. Though our experiences may vary, the bond of terror is singular.

And, do I think I bit my attacker? I’m not convinced of that, either.”

To read the full article visit:

Buffalo Schnitzel  Blog “The Man Behind the Tree



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