Fire and Steel, Volume 6

by Gerald N. Lund

  The major turned back to Yakov. “If you give me the rifle, I will let you and your sister travel together. Is that what you want?”

  “She’s not my sister.” Then, “I don’t believe you.”

  “No one else needs to get hurt. These are my men, and one of them was out of line. He will be punished. We are only taking you in to ask a few questions. Give me the rifle, and you can be with the girl if you like, to keep her safe.”

  “No, Yakov!” Alemann whispered hoarsely. “Don’t do it.”

  Hans wasn’t sure if he meant don’t shoot or don’t listen to the major.

  Finally, Yakov lifted one hand high in the air, and with the other, slowly lowered the rifle to the ground. Then he stepped back from his captive. The guard dropped to his knees, shaking uncontrollably.

  “Get him out of here,” the major snarled. Two of his fellow soldiers stepped in and dragged the guard away. The officer then turned back to the young man and smiled as Yakov lowered his hands, which were trembling violently. “That’s better,” he said pleasantly. Then he calmly drew his Luger and shot Yakov twice in the chest.

  February 2, 1937, 8:55 p.m.—Eckhardt Home

  When there was a soft rap on the door to his study, Hans held up one finger and quickly finished subtracting the last sum from the balance. Then he pushed the checkbook aside and motioned for Emilee to come in. She did, but only enough to stand in the doorway.

  “Richelle just called.”

  “Oh?” Hans laid the pen down. “From Switzerland? How are they doing?”

  She shook her head. “They’re home again.”

  “What? They’re here? But Alemann took personal leave.”

  “They want to come and see us. They will be here at nine thirty.”

  That startled him. “You mean tonight? They’re coming tonight? Why?”

  “She didn’t say. But they’ll have the girls with them.”

  That really knocked him back. “Erika and Leyna? But . . . what about their school?”

  “She didn’t explain anything, Hans. She just said that they needed to talk with us.” Emilee hesitated. “And she specifically asked that Lisa be there with us.” Her lips pressed together. “I don’t know what’s going on. But the children are ready for bed. They want you to read them a story. You go. I’ll tell Lisa.”

  9:27 p.m.

  When the bell rang, Hans was up instantly and headed for the front door. It had been about ten days since that night out in the snowstorm. He and Alemann had talked twice on the phone since then, but both times they had avoided the painful subject of what they had witnessed that night. Alemann had told him two different times that he held no grudge against Hans for what he had done that night. In fact, just the opposite. He thanked him for “saving him from himself.” His second call had been to ask Hans if he would inform Dean Eberhardt that due to personal family reasons, he was taking a leave of absence for the rest of the term. That had left Hans with a deep uneasiness. Something wasn’t right.

  When he opened the door, Leyna and Erika were in front, wearing winter coats and stocking caps and smiling brightly as they greeted him. He hugged them both. Lisa was right behind him, and the three girls fell into each other’s arms.

  Richelle came in next. Her eyes were shiny, but she too smiled warmly. “Guten Abend, Hans.” She went up on her toes and kissed him on one cheek. “So good to see you again.” She stepped around him into Emilee’s embrace. When they separated, Richelle removed the stocking cap she was wearing.

  Emilee’s head snapped up. “You’ve cut your hair? And dyed it too?”

  Richelle laughed as she reached up and touched it. Lisa was shocked. In all the time she had known them, mother and daughters had looked remarkably the same. Dark brown eyes, dark brown, almost black hair worn loose down to their shoulders. Now Richelle’s hair was in a pixie cut and was a much lighter reddish-brown.

  “Do you like it?” Richelle asked, wrinkling her forehead. “I’m not sure I do yet.”

  “I love it. It makes you look . . . younger.”

  Richelle turned to her husband. “And do you notice anything else?”

  Lisa had already noticed. “Onkel Alemann is growing a beard.”

  “Ja, ja!” Richelle laughed merrily. “I’ve been after him for years to do that.”

  Erika turned to Lisa. “And one more thing.” She motioned for Leyna to join her. They looked at each other, grinning mischievously. “Ready?” Erika asked Leyna. She nodded. They both reached up and grasped their stocking caps. “One. Two. Three.”

  Both hats came off and both girls did a little curtsy. “Oh my word!” Lisa cried in astonishment. “You cut your hair too? And dyed it?”

  Both of them blushed, giggling softly. “Do you like it?” Erika cried anxiously.

  “It’s all right to say no, Lisa,” Alemann said mournfully. “I’m still not sure. The three favorite women in my life are no longer look-alikes.”

  Lisa stepped back, looking at all three of them as they moved together. It was a shock. She had always been so envious of their lustrous, dark hair. Now Erika’s was cut even shorter than her mother’s, and it was a soft, honey-colored blonde. It dramatically changed her looks. Leyna’s hair was the longest of the three of them. But what had always been halfway down to her waist was now cut off at the nape of her neck. It was the color of light walnut.

  Lisa finally gave them a genuine smile. “Well, it’s going to take some getting used to, but when you’re beautiful, like all three of you are, the change is very fetching.”

  “Spoken like a true diplomat,” Alemann said.

  Lisa smiled up at him impishly. “And the beard makes you look very distinguished. I may have to start calling you Herr Zeidner again, or maybe even Herr Doktor Zeidner.”

  They all laughed heartily at that.

  9:34 p.m.

  The conversation was light for a time as the girls prattled on about school and Emilee and Richelle talked about how Jo and Oma Inga were doing in Utah. Alemann and Hans talked of his thesis, but Hans could tell Alemann was distracted, and soon they just sat back and listened to the women. After about five minutes of that, Alemann cleared his throat. “Um . . . we don’t want to keep you up too late, so perhaps it is time to explain why we have come so unexpectedly.”

  At that, Richelle moved over to sit by her husband, and Leyna and Erika moved their chairs so one sat on either side of them. Once they were seated, they all reached out and linked hands. Alemann and Richelle exchanged looks, then she nodded for him to begin.

  “Thank you for letting us come on such short notice,” he started. “I am sure that this all must seem strange to you, but after much agonizing and a lot of deep and painful soul-searching, we—and by that, I mean all four of us—have decided that there is something that we need to share with you, our dearest friends in the world.” He drew in a slow breath, looking now directly at Lisa. “I am sure that what we are about to say will come as a great shock to your parents, Lisa, but not to you. For you have known this now for several years.”

  Lisa’s eyes widened in stunned surprise and she drew in a sharp breath. Alemann turned to Emilee and Hans. “We didn’t know until just two nights ago that Lisa has been aware of what we are about to share with you since that first day we came to your house and met your family. She was asked to keep it in strictest confidence, and has done so faithfully.” His voice caught. “Thank you, our dear Lisa. You are a remarkable young woman.”

  Knowing that her parents were staring at her and that her face was flaming, Lisa kept her eyes fixed on her hands folded in her lap. Richelle turned to Hans and Emilee. “When we decided as a family that it was time to share our secret with the Eckhardts, Erika proposed that we ask Lisa to share it with you as she heard it, and then we shall go from there.”

  “No!” Lisa cried. “I. . . .”

  Alema
nn’s eyes were gentle. “Tell them everything you can remember, and Richelle and I will take it from there.”

  Erika reached across and took Lisa’s hand for a moment. “Don’t hold back.”

  Lisa squeezed her hand back, then turned to her parents. “You know all about how Jo and I saw those two boys that day following Erika and Leyna. I still don’t understand why I felt compelled to go to their aid. I guess because I loathed Bully Boy so much. And you know what happened. I was very fortunate to catch them both by surprise and stop them.”

  “Knock them both cold is more like it,” Leyna said.

  “But what I didn’t tell you was . . . that . . . uh . . .” Her shoulders lifted and fell and she drew in a deep breath. “Bully Boy had grabbed Erika and pulled him to her. He wanted to have his way with her, but as he held her head tightly and leaned in, he . . . um . . . suddenly recoiled. There was this look of pure horror on his face.” Lisa was looking at Erika now, noticing that she had red splotches on her neck. “And he said one word, then pushed her away.”

  “What word?” Hans broke in.

  Lisa couldn’t meet his eyes. “Jüdin.”

  Her parents rocked back. “Jewess!” Hans exclaimed, looking at Erika. “He called you a Jewess?”

  Erika nodded. “I was so shocked, I almost fainted. I could see that Lisa was shocked too. But she reacted so fast, first kissing him, then knocking him out cold, and just as quickly taking out the other boy too. It was like in the blink of an eye. Bam, bam! And they were both down.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Lisa. “She was like this avenging angel.”

  Emilee was dazed. “Whatever made him think that you were Jewish?”

  Erika didn’t answer for several seconds. When she did, it was in a bare whisper. “I don’t know.” She took a quick breath. “I guess maybe because I am.”

  Lisa rushed on as her parents went rigid, the color draining from their faces. “When Erika saw that policemen were coming to help us, she went as white as a sheet. She grabbed Leyna’s hand and started to turn away. Then she stopped and ran back to me, grabbing me by the shoulders. She was terrified, which shocked me, for the danger was over. And she begged me not to tell anyone that she was Jewish. Then they ran.”

  “Wait,” Hans said, turning to Alemann. “Are you saying that Erika and Leyna are Jewish? That they’re adopted?”

  Alemann shook his head, still looking at Lisa. “Tell your mother and father what happened the next day, when our family came to see you. Tell them what Erika told you.”

  And so, as her parents listened with growing astonishment, Lisa told them how Erika had come to her room and asked her if she had said anything about her being Jewish to her parents, and how relieved she was when Lisa had said no. Then, suddenly wanting to watch her parents’ reaction, Lisa turned to face them squarely and went on. She told them all that Erika had shared that day—Alemann’s Jewish lineage, Richelle’s conversion to Judaism, Alemann being fired from a university, their determination to start a new life so their family could be safe, false identities, papers. She spoke for nearly five minutes, not holding anything back as her parents registered deepening shock and astonishment. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, Vati and Mutti. But I promised. I gave Erika my word.”

  “You did,” Erika said, tears in her eyes. “And you have kept that promise. Thank you.”

  By this point, there wasn’t a sound in the room. Erika and Leyna stared at the ground. All three of the Zeidner women’s eyes were glistening. Alemann’s face was twisted with pain as he watched Hans steadily.

  For Lisa, it seemed like the silence stretched on for hours, with the only sound being the monotonous ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. She kept glancing surreptitiously at her father. His face was an unreadable mask, and she noted that his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. Please, Papa! Please! Please say the right thing.

  Hans finally straightened. He reached out and took Emilee’s hand, his face expressionless. And then he slowly turned and looked directly at Alemann. His eyes were hooded, his expression unreadable. But when he spoke, his voice was calm and measured. “I assume you’re telling us all of this,” he said quietly, “because you need our help. What do you need us to do?”

  In that instant, Lisa, Erika, and Richelle broke down and began to sob. Emilee, tears streaking her cheeks as well, reached across and took her husband’s hand as she spoke to their friends. “Yes. Name it. We’re here for you.”

  February 2, 1937, 9:49 p.m.—Eckhardt Home

  Richelle reached out and gripped Alemann’s hand, smiling up at him. “I told you they wouldn’t.”

  “Yes,” Alemann said, obviously greatly relieved. He looked at Hans and Emilee. “Thank you, dear friends. Thank you for being who and what you are.”

  “Wouldn’t what?” Hans asked.

  Alemann leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “Let me put it to you this way. When Erika told us the other night that Lisa has known all along, our love and admiration for her soared. It’s not just that she never violated Erika’s confidence. Far more significant to us is that in all these years, us being Jewish didn’t make one iota of difference to her.”

  “And you thought it would to us?” Hans snapped. “What did you think we would do? Spit on you? Run to Dean Eberhardt and tell him that he has a Jew on his faculty? Lock the door and pull down the blinds when we saw you coming?”

  Alemann sighed. “No, of course not. We know you better than that. But. . . .” He held up both hands in an imploring gesture. “Hans, if we had thought that, we wouldn’t be here tonight. Your former friends would simply have disappeared into thin air.”

  Lisa lurched forward. “What did you say?”

  Alemann ignored her. “Think about it. When Erika and Leyna told us what happened that day, how Lisa had rushed in and saved them, both Richelle and I immediately wanted to come and thank Lisa personally for what she had done. So we got her name and the names of her parents from the police officers who had come to help. I recognized your name instantly. I’m a historian, remember. And that was a jolt, to be honest. A high-ranking official in the Nazi Party? Even though the risk of you ever learning our true identity was minuscule, I told Richelle that it wasn’t worth the risk.”

  Richelle smiled at him. “But I insisted. And look what happened. We ended up staying for supper, and the next thing you know, we’re best friends.”

  “We are,” Hans agreed. “But I left the party, and you helped me do it. And from the beginning, you’ve never heard me spew any of that rot about superior race or inferior blood. And still you said nothing?”

  Alemann spoke softly. “My family doesn’t even know if I’m still alive, Hans. Both of Richelle’s parents died without knowing exactly where we were or what we were doing. We had to do that. Not just to protect us, but them as well. You as well! When we settled in Zurich with our new identities that first time, we thought we were safe. Yet someone found out. We’re lucky that all we lost that time was our employment. So the next time, I paid out thousands of marks to get us identities that were solid as a rock. And it worked. We carved out a new life for ourselves here, a new chance to raise our family in safety and peace.” His voice softened. “And to make friends. Can you imagine what it felt like that night when you told me you could no longer stomach being employed by the Nazi Party? I almost wept.”

  Hans sat back. “Okay, I get it.”

  “Then came that night when you told me about the Nuremberg Laws. I was afraid you had seen how distressed I was and might guess something. The very next day I went back to Vienna and found the man who had created our new identities. He’s one of the top forgers and identity creators in all of Europe. I had one question for him. Will our identities survive a careful search of the genealogical records as required by the new law? He assured me that they would. He swore that we were not in danger. You can imagine
our relief at that. We didn’t have to cut and run. We would just be extra cautious.”

  “And tone down his criticisms of the government,” Richelle added wryly.

  Erika, still a little weepy, added, “And stop calling attention to himself by whisking his girls off to America so they didn’t have to attend Hitler Youth.”

  “That’s right,” Richelle confirmed. “And that’s why we withdrew them from the Bogenhausen Academy and put them in private school in Switzerland.”

  Hans let out a long, weary sigh. “And all of that worked until the other night when you watched Yakov get gunned down without the slightest remorse.”

  As Richelle and Alemann nodded, Erika got to her feet. She spoke in a clear voice, slowly and distinctly, and with surprising calm. “Onkel Hans, Tante Emilee, perhaps the best way to help you understand the impact of that night is to tell you some of the things that immediately followed. First, at about ten o’clock the morning after the Gestapo roundup of suspected Jews, the headmaster at school called me and Leyna to his office. To our immense surprise, Mama was there and said there was an emergency in our family and that we were being pulled out of school temporarily. When we got in the car and asked Mama what was wrong, she wouldn’t answer. Our puzzlement turned to total shock when we got home and found a bag packed for each of us. Papa told us to get anything of special value to us because we were never coming back to this house again.” She turned to Lisa. “You can imagine how that hit us.”

  Lisa nodded somberly, thinking of the Steinway grand piano.

  “And so you went to your chalet in Switzerland,” Hans said, not making it a question.

  Leyna came in now. “But we were there only two nights. The next morning Mama, Erika, and I went to Mama’s hairdresser in Bern and—” she motioned toward her head “—we changed our appearance. That was hard too. I’m finally starting to like it, but I cried when she cut my hair off and threw it away.”