National Socialism in Norway

My grandfather was a baker and a Nazi,
his specialities were French bread,
Napoleon cake and chocolate éclair.
During the austere German occupation
he always had a good supply of pure wheat flour
and made quite a lot of money
selling his wares to SS officers and big-shot Nazis.

Bought properties,
he did in his wife’s name
because she was a righteous woman
who spent her time knitting jumpers for the poor;
he knew that his good time wouldn’t last forever.
Two years he got for dallying with the enemy
and a five years ban on baking bread.

Now that my own father is no more
I find myself well off
being a sole owner of properties,
in the posh part of town,
which once belonged to a far seeing enemy collaborator.
My grandmother is ninety-four
under her black blouse,
hidden from view,
she wears the iron cross.