The German Half-Bloods (The Half-Bloods Trilogy Book 1)

by Jana Petken

  Herr Rudolph hesitated, stroking his beard and flattening his handlebar moustache that curled up at the ends and almost touched the outer sides of his nostrils. “I believe those figures are accurate, or thereabouts, but I think the ministry has done a marvellous job in benefiting society. After all, is it not better to prevent those terrible illnesses from occurring than having to treat them in epidemic proportions?”

  Paul had always believed that prevention was better than cure, but was unsure of how to answer, not knowing enough about the subject to get into a discussion with the esteemed doctor who had been good enough to give his time to answer questions from a man who had only just left medical school.

  “Yes, prevention is always better than cure,” Paul eventually said. “That was also Bleuler’s premise if I’m not mistaken. He said that the more severely burdened should not replicate themselves because if mental and physical cripples reproduced, the healthy stocks would have to limit the number of children they had because much of the country’s resources would be needed to maintain the less healthy.”

  Herr Rudolph looked impressed and leaned towards Paul and Dieter as though about to tell them a deadly secret. “Here’s something you might not know, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this just between us.”

  “Of course,” Dieter and Paul whispered.

  “Well, the thing is, I attended meetings at the highest level where some people within the Nazi administration suggested that the programme should be extended to persons with physical disabilities. I, like others present, was for the idea in principle but such a delicate proposal had to be expressed carefully given that Joseph Goebbels, who as you know is one of the most powerful figures in the party, has a deformed right leg.”

  “Ah, I see … yes, of course,” said Dieter.

  “In any case, it was not a good time to expand the law, what with our labour shortages. And as the Führer rightly said, anyone capable of work should be deemed useful and thus exempt from the sterilisation law.”

  Paul, excited by his guest’s candour on matters he had only ever managed to read about in journals, decided not to tell Herr Rudolph that the reason he remembered Bleuler’s work was because he found it outdated and cruel. He hadn’t lied when he’d said it was the reason he’d chosen psychiatry, he just hadn’t said that, given time, he was planning to destroy the eminent psychiatrist’s philosophy on the subject. “What did you want to speak to me about, Herr Rudolph?”

  “Ah, yes, let’s get to that,” Hauptsturmführer Leitner interrupted “We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  Hans Rudolph swallowed the last of his brandy before agreeing with Leitner. “So much to do nowadays. It never stops. So, Paul, as your father already knows, I presently hold one of the top positions at the Brandenburg-Görden Clinic. Brandenburg is only sixty kilometres from Berlin, and the facility on its outskirts will soon be at the forefront of mental illness treatments. We’re interviewing doctors and assistants to fill the necessary posts via the Interior Ministry, but I’m not satisfied with what I’ve seen so far. You see, I’m searching for forward-thinking young men who have total commitment to psychiatry and more importantly, to the revolutionary treatments of mentally ill patients. Considering that you have gone against your father’s wishes and committed yourself to psychiatry, I am inclined to think that you might be a perfect addition to my team. So, will you work for me? For your country ... your Führer?”

  The hair on the back of Paul’s neck bristled. He heard his sharp intake of breath, but it was too late to stop it and he was too embarrassed to apologise for it. He looked at his father, who dipped his head, raised his eyebrows and gave his son a steady, unfathomable gaze.

  “Don’t rush,” Rudolph said.

  For the first time since sitting down, Paul suspected this was not a coincidental meeting. His father hadn’t known about his psychiatric plans and was still visibly shaken by them, but Rudolph’s offer had sounded ominously rehearsed. Perhaps he was imagining something that wasn’t there, Paul thought, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that an eminent influential doctor would spy on a promising candidate coming from an affluent Nazi household.

  “A few weeks ago, I completed the psychiatric orientation cycle in Munich’s hospital. Did you know that, Herr Rudolph?” Paul asked outright.

  Rudolph’s eyes narrowed. “No, why should I know anything about you? I’d never even heard your father speak of you before tonight.”

  “Of course, you’re right. Why should you know anything about a mere student?” Paul sipped his brandy. A half-full bottle was still on the table. He played for time, pouring the golden liquid into the three empty snifters. Then he said what was uppermost in his mind. “Herr Rudolph. While I was doing my rotation, I heard rumours of euthanasia centres being outfitted – Brandenburg was mentioned as a possible trial base – is it?”

  A sharp lift of an eyebrow and eyes thinning to slits betrayed Herr Rudolph’s thoughts. He’d hit a nerve. He’d not allowed himself to believe the rumours, for the subject was too terrible to contemplate. He dreaded Rudolph’s answer.

  “I can’t imagine who would have started that salacious rumour,” Rudolph said, looking appalled. “Decisions about euthanasia are not even close to being finalised, and Brandenburg will be what I said it will be, nothing more.”

  “With respect, I believe it has been decided,” Paul surged ahead. “And if euthanasia is introduced, I will have no part in it. I don’t agree with the practice in any form or under any circumstances where there remains a doubt as to whether an illness is terminal or not. My main reason for choosing psychiatry was to research ways in which we can cure certain insanities, especially acute cases, not how to put people down like animals. So, again, if there are plans to introduce an extermination programme for patients deemed incurable, I would not be interested in your offer and would turn it down flat.”

  “Paul, don’t be rude!” Dieter snapped.

  “Forgive me, Herr Rudolph, Hauptsturmführer,” Paul continued. “I feel strongly about certain treatments being introduced without proper investigations by doctors. But feelings aside, and as grateful as I am for you offering me an opportunity at Brandenburg, I plan to study at the Maudsley Hospital in London. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that either, Father.”

  Dieter’s mouth opened and then snapped shut, but Leitner didn’t seem to have problem saying what was on his mind.

  “Germany is on the brink of greatness, Paul. Why would you want to live in Britain?”

  “Precisely my thoughts,” Dieter concurred. “It’s bad enough having one son living in England without you traipsing off to join him. No, no, Paul. You will stay in Germany.”

  Paul caught Leitner’s victorious smirk. Already he was not fond of the man’s company, yet he still had to learn what connection he had with the Vogels. He looked too young to be one of his father’s personal friends.

  Like an extinguished light bulb, the kindness in Rudolph’s eyes vanished and was replaced by irritation. “I see. London is it? That’s a pity. I was hoping that you would accept my offer and come on board at the outset.”

  “More than forty percent of Germany’s psychiatrists have joined the SS already. Did you know that?” Leitner asked.

  “No, Hauptsturmführer,” Paul answered. “I’m not SS material, and besides, we already have one in the family.”

  “You’re not going to London, so you can forget that idea,” Dieter insisted.

  Rudolph said, “Tell me something, Paul. Do you believe in Hitler’s vision? I ask because you will be expected to join the Nazi Party, regardless of where you work in Germany.”

  “And he will work in the Fatherland,” Dieter reiterated for the third time.

  Rudolph interjected, “Let me put your mind at rest, Paul. The euthanasia programme hasn’t officially started anywhere in Germany, and when and if it does, only selected physicians, of which I am one, will be authorized to choose the patients they deem incurably
sick. And even then, the patients will go through the most rigorous medical examinations. You must know that Germany is preparing to invade Poland and may be at war with our neighbours very soon. This is a time to put country first, to weed out those who will prove too great a burden on our medical resources. Tell me you understand that.”

  Astonished by Rudolph’s admission of the truth only minutes after denying the existence of a euthanasia programme, Paul refused to incriminate himself further. “I do support Adolf Hitler, but I am sceptical about a law that gives doctors the right to decide who should live and who should die based on perhaps, only fatuous parameters. That goes against everything I believe; the Hippocratic Oath states that as doctors we must do no harm.”

  Herr Rudolph’s eyebrows met in anger as he glared at Paul. “Young man, I am offering you an opportunity to learn and serve the Nazi Party at the same time. If a horse broke both its legs, its owner would shoot it to put it out of its misery, isn’t that so?”

  “Yes, but we shouldn’t ever liken ourselves to animals,” Paul responded.

  “Mind your manners,” Dieter again berated Paul.

  “No, no, don’t worry, Dieter. Paul is right to question and to think for himself. All the best doctors and scientists do,” Rudolph said. “But as someone who has met him, I can say with my hand on my heart, that Adolf Hitler is a compassionate man. Only last week he agreed to a request from the father of a three-year-old boy born blind and with missing limbs, for his son to be euthanised. That was not an act of cruelty or of degrading a person’s right to live; it was the mercy-killing of a child who had suffered every waking moment of his short life.”

  “I agree with you, Hans. I would have requested the exact same thing had I had an afflicted child.” Dieter’s expression softened as he shifted his gaze to Paul. “Look, Son, why don’t you put England out of your mind for the moment and just consider Herr Rudolph’s offer?”

  “Yes, you do that.” Rudolph gulped down the last of his brandy and rose to his feet.

  “Reflect on what I’ve said. Think about your father and mother, your brothers and sister.”

  Rudolph then turned to Dieter. “I’m sure the Interior Ministry will look kindly upon your company should your son agree to join the Nazi Party. The Führer takes care of those who are loyal to him and so do his ministers. I will certainly do what I can to see that the Vogel Medical Equipment factory in Berlin is the Ministry’s first port of call should they require products such as yours. I foresee a profitable arrangement between you and the Reich, Dieter, but I can also see your competitors swooping in and putting you out of business should you and your family not please your customers – you know the military, they can be fickle when it comes to their business dealings.”

  Herr Rudolph’s portly frame looked large and overpowering to Paul, who pressed his back against the chair’s hard cane like a cornered rat. Desperate now for the men to leave, he rose with a forced smile. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Leitner nodded and began to saunter towards the terrace. Rudolph, however, lingered to shake Dieter’s hand. “It’s been a splendid evening, Dieter. I’m very glad it coincided with my trip. I’ll see you on your return to Berlin.”

  At the front door, Paul offered Rudolph and Leitner his hand. “Thank you for coming, both of you.”

  “You can have a brilliant career in Germany or face being blackballed in the future, Paul. I suggest you make the right decision, tonight,” Leitner warned as he left.

  Rudolph added, “We’ll be in Dresden until tomorrow night. I’ll call on you in the morning for your answer. Sleep on it.”

  Paul nodded. “I will.”

  Chapter Four

  Hannah Vogel

  Hannah and Frank sat at the edge of the jetty, their feet dangling a foot above the waterline. Wet swimsuits lay flat on the wooden planks, and beside them discarded sandals and folded towels. On occasion, they swam naked, feeling each other’s bodies in rare moments of intimacy, but that only occurred when Laura and Dieter were asleep, and the embankment was deserted. Tonight, they’d changed into swimsuits and casual wear before leaving the house, and had redressed straight after their swim, afraid that the Vogels’ guests would venture through the garden’s archway and spot them canoodling.

  Hannah’s hair hung down both sides of her face and was already beginning to curl as it dried. She was silent, her closed eyes flickering nervously. Overcome by conflicting thoughts that changed direction with every ragged breath, she could find no words, no correct answer to give the man she loved. It was unthinkable to let him go back to England without knowing when or if she would ever see him again. A separation without an end in sight didn’t bear thinking about, and neither did the idea that he could one day be an enemy of Germany.

  Frank’s proposition was a harsh reminder of the spiral of violence engulfing her country. She’d planted a smile on her face at the party and had flirted with more than one SS officer, but she’d also listened in on conversations not fit for civilian ears. War was coming. No one could stop it, not even Britain’s idiot Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain. No amount of appeasing Adolf Hitler was going to keep the peace.

  She looked at Frank’s fingers entwined in hers, twitching as she squeezed them. She searched his face. His eyes stared back, patient but also filled with dread. Her hammering heart beat hard in her chest, but every so often when she couldn’t catch her breath, it fluttered erratically making her sigh and gulp at the same time. He saw and understood her confusion and indecision, and she appreciated that gesture, but she was not convinced that he truly comprehended the physical and emotional upheaval leaving her parents and moving to England would bring.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and pressed her palm against his chest to feel his heart beating as rapidly as her own. “Do you really think it will come to war, Frank?” she asked.

  “Darling, I want to say no and that we can hope for a diplomatic breakthrough, but Hitler is flaunting his aggression, and British patience is wearing thin.”

  “But the British allowed him to annex Austria last year, even though it was in direct violation of the Treaty of Versailles, and your government did nothing when he seized the Sudetenland. Your minister even agreed to it in Munich.”

  “Yes, but Britain and France didn’t agree to Hitler’s military occupation of the rest of Czechoslovakia. We gave him a gesture of goodwill, and he’s slapping us in the face. Only if he stops his hostility now, right now, and comes back to the negotiation table with firm promises, will peace still be possible…”

  “But you don’t think he will stop?”

  “No. I think your Führer is going to invade Poland, despite Britain’s pledge to militarily support that country if it were to be attacked by the Germans. My darling, come to England with me. I know I’m asking a lot, but I wouldn’t insist if I didn’t think it was urgent. We can get married straight away. You have a British passport, a brother and an extended family in Kent who love you. You have friends who will help you settle in, and you’ll have me. Don’t force me to leave you behind, not this time.”

  Hannah kissed him urgently, feeling her passion rise. “We’ve known each other for two years, Frank, but we’ve only been engaged for three months. When I left you after spending that year with my aunt in Chislehurst, you and I promised to wait until you finished your engineering degree and could support me.”

  Frank tucked a strand of hair behind Hannah’s ear. “We promised to do a lot of things, my love, but that was before the threat of war – yes, I agreed to have the wedding in Berlin with you surrounded by your father’s family, but sometimes unforeseen circumstances arise, and we have to take leaps of faith off a cliff edge – I’m fond of your father, despite his support of fascism, and I certainly don’t want to upset him, God forbid, but I’ve graduated and already have a good job. You must see I’m right.

  Hannah was still not convinced. “I feel I’d be letting my papa down if I eloped with you and I certainly
couldn’t ask him to pay for my upkeep when I’m your wife.”

  Frank let go of Hannah’s hand and stared at her, his deep brown eyes full of hurt. “I have money put aside. I have a house that’s paid for, thanks to my dad. Granted it’s not as big or as grand as your father’s but it’s mine ... it’s ours. Trust me, I wouldn’t ask your family for anything but your hand, not even a penny-ha’penny.”

  “I’m sorry I said that,” Hannah murmured laying her head on his chest again. “You’re the most honourable man I know, but I had plans, Frank. I was going to buy my wedding dress in Berlin with my mother next week.”

  “I know, but that’s a minor detail. London has wonderful bridal shops. Your Aunt Cathy can go with you...”

  Hannah dug him the ribs and giggled. “Are you an expert in bridal gowns now?”

  “No, but I presume London caters for brides.” Frank lifted Hannah’s hand and kissed her palm. “You won’t be alone, my love. I’ll be at your side every step of the way. Darling Hannah, I’m afraid to leave you. Your mother and father waited too long in 1914 and were separated for four years. I won’t survive that.”

  On their return to the house, Hannah and Frank found the family sitting in the garden. They were glad to see them still up. It had been an age since they’d all been together, and as luck would have it, Hannah had come to a decision about her future and wouldn’t now have to spend the night thinking about how to break the news.

  Frank’s words, Hannah, I’m afraid to leave you, had been persuasive. She was also fearful for the future. An atmosphere of war had already engulfed Germany. It had been present all evening in the eyes and words of the SS and Gestapo guests, and in the streets where Jews were being bullied. It filled the hearts of public speakers denouncing the rights of fellow Germans who worshiped a different God, wrote books deemed depraved, or loved someone of the same sex. It was in the smoggy, hate-filled air above the Dresden army barracks where SS recruits were being trained by sergeants who spouted detestable, spiteful mantras that could be heard a mile away. This was a Germany she no longer loved and didn’t want to live in.