BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

“Second, even if you could figure out a way to travel, the Communists have their Iron Curtain. It’s a wall along the border that stretches over a thousand miles. Some parts are concrete, some are barbed wire. There are also guard towers all along it, and guards with machine guns and attack dogs. Their job is to stop anyone trying to get over the wall.”

  Jack piped up, “If it’s so bad in there, why would people want to get into East Germany?”

  Ingrid laughed at that. “Most of their work is to keep East Germans from getting out. Anyone caught trying to escape is sent to prison. But they also want to keep outsiders from telling East Germans what the rest of the world is really like. The Stasi have shut East Germany off from the outside world. The only information comes from the East German Communist government and the Russians. Citizens aren’t allowed to get news from West Germany or France or England and certainly not from the United States. If you are caught with any American newspapers, magazines, or books, you can be arrested and jailed.

  “The Stasi arrested a literature professor because he had an American book. His wife and children never saw him again. He just vanished. I’ve heard about people the Stasi killed with a single shot to the head or with a guillotine. Maybe those rumors aren’t true, but I know people who vanished—never to be seen or heard from again. I don’t know if they were killed or imprisoned or shipped off to Russia. I do know I hate the Stasi. In East Germany, I worried all the time that someone might report me for saying something I didn’t even know was wrong.”

  Queenie and Jack glanced at each other, glad they weren’t hearing this alone.

  “So how’d you get here?” Queenie asked quietly.

  Lena said, “Perhaps you need to tell them.”

  Ingrid took a deep breath. “Laura, can you imagine always being afraid? I wanted my life to be the way yours is. I love to hear you laugh with your girlfriends and say whatever pops into your head—no matter how crazy or silly or funny. I wanted that, and to go anywhere and read anything without worrying I’d be reported.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  Lena said, “We need more beer.” She waved at the waiter. “Zwei Bier, und zwei Coca-Cola, bitte.”

  They were quiet till the waiter brought their drinks. Lena lifted her glass and said, “Prost.”

  They all clinked glasses and drank. Queenie, trying to lighten the mood a little, said to Jack, “At least these Cokes aren’t too dry.” She told about their father’s practical joke.

  Laughing about it and a taking few sips of beer seemed to calm Ingrid. “I dearly love your sister, Rabbit, but she would never survive in East Germany. Can you imagine it? She is so trusting of adults and has no ability to control what she says. It would be a disaster.”

  Queenie’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  Ingrid went silent, fading back into her memories. “For a long time, I desperately wanted my life to change, but it took much longer to realize my desire had a name. It was called freedom. Once the word entered my head, I couldn’t get it out. I decided I had to do it.”

  “It?” ask Queenie, confused.

  Ingrid nodded. “It. I would leave my family and all my friends, get over the Iron Curtain, and find my way to West Germany and then America. No matter what it took, I would make my way to freedom.”

  “Over the Iron Curtain? That’s how you got to us?” Jack was stunned.

  “Yes.”

  The word said so much.

  21

  Iron Curtain

  “How’d you do it?” Jack didn’t think he could listen any harder.

  “It took me a long time. The two hardest parts were being patient and not telling anyone. I knew I couldn’t tell my parents, brothers, or sister—that would put them at risk. They might even try to stop me.”

  “They thought life was better in East Germany?” asked Queenie.

  “No, but getting caught trying to escape would mean prison or being shot on the spot. I simply couldn’t put them through that worry or risk. So for the next year I planned and told no one.

  “My biggest problem would be getting to the border. It was hundreds of miles from Dresden. Remember, the police must approve all travel. I thought of idea after idea, but none seemed safe.

  “I needed a miracle. Then my aunt and uncle in Wernigerode sent us an invitation to my cousin Franz’s wedding. That invitation was my ticket to freedom; Wernigerode is very close to the Iron Curtain. However, my parents decided we wouldn’t go, because it was too far and cost too much. Oh, they had a bunch of stupid excuses. I was furious—panicked. My parents probably thought I was just upset because when we lived there during the war, Franz and I were best friends. But there was no way I could let this opportunity pass me by. I started bugging my parents to let me go by myself. I said that at least one of us should go. I could represent the family. And I kept at them till they finally gave in.

  “My father took me to the police station, presenting the wedding invitation as proof that Franz was family. The desk sergeant, never responding to us, pressed an electronic button wired to his desk. An unsmiling officer came and took us to a small, windowless examination room. My father’s eyes widened just enough for me to see this was not good. He calmly explained that we couldn’t all go, but that he wanted me to represent our family at the wedding. The officer shifted his cold eyes to me. I felt like he could see right into my heart and read my true plans. I forced myself to stare back, to show nothing. Finally he turned on his heel and walked away.

  “We were escorted back to the desk sergeant, who kept us standing there, waiting, until his phone finally rang. He answered respectfully but hardly said another word. His eyes never left me. I was sure he was hearing that guards would be in to arrest me. I could tell my father was uneasy, too. But when the sergeant put down the phone, he picked up an iron-handled rubber stamp, slammed it on an ink pad, and then onto some paperwork, saying, ‘Fill this out.’ An hour later, I walked out with my travel permit.

  “I took a train to Wernigerode, and my aunt and uncle greeted me like a long-lost daughter. I hadn’t seen them since I was a little girl. I’m sad now how little I enjoyed that visit. I was so preoccupied with my escape plans—or lack of an escape plan. I had no idea where the stupid border was! And there was no one I could trust. For all I knew, Franz was a Stasi agent. I felt such pressure; my travel permit lasted only five days. I spent the first two trying to pick up information about the border without ever asking. With all the wedding stuff going on, the border wasn’t exactly a major topic of discussion.

  “So what did you do?” asked Jack.

  “On the third day, I got a break. Franz received a message that his best friend couldn’t come to the wedding. His idiot boss had scheduled him to work the next three nights and wouldn’t change the schedule.

  “Truthfully, Jack, I didn’t care that the guy wasn’t coming. Frankly, I wasn’t even paying much attention to the conversation. Oh, I tried not to let it show, but you have to understand, I was obsessed with escaping.

  “Trying to be sympathetic, I asked what his friend did. I just about fainted when Franz said that Manfred was a guard on the border. In a flash, my whole attitude changed, but I had to stay casual. I asked, ‘How far away is he?’ Franz said, ‘Just up the road maybe seven minutes’ drive.’ I couldn’t believe I was so close to the border!

  “Franz said, ‘I wanted Manfred to meet you.’

  “It took all my acting ability to stay casual. ‘Well, he isn’t that far. Couldn’t we just go by to say hi?’

  “Before I knew it, we were in an old farm truck heading for the border. You can believe I paid attention to every turn and the surrounding landscape. We hadn’t gone more than five kilometers when we came to a low, concrete building next to a tall, barbed-wire fence. Could that be it? I wondered.

  “Franz said he’d bring Manfred to the truck. Cute girls weren�
�t welcome in the guard building.

  “Acid pooled in my stomach as I waited for Franz to come back with Manfred. He was very good looking. Which made it more believable when I turned on the charm. Manfred and I talked and laughed for about twenty minutes, and then he had to get back to work. But in that short time, I learned a great deal.”

  Queenie’s eyes lit up. “Spill the beans. How’d you get him to talk?”

  “You should have seen me.” Ingrid batted her lashes. “Franz had gone back into the guard house to talk to the other guard, so I had a chance to get Manfred talking. I started by asking if that barbed-wire fence could possibly be the famous Iron Curtain. I acted dumb, saying I thought it would be solid iron. Grinning like a fool, Manfred assured me, ‘Barbed wire is plenty strong for this stretch. Around here, no one tries to get in or out.’ I wanted to melt in relief, but I just kept acting cute and dumb. Make a note of that, Laura. Boys love cute and dumb.”

  Jack groaned. “Can we just get back to the story?”

  The girls giggled at him.

  Ingrid said, “Sorry, Jack. I asked him what he did. Laura, men love it when you ask them about themselves.”

  Jack knew she was trying to torture him as well as teach Queenie about men.

  “Manfred told me he walked his German shepherd, Adelfried, along the fence to guard it. So, of course, I told him how much I loved dogs. Well, that got him talking about Adelfried, who was lazy, lazy, lazy. That’s when I got him. I told him that if I had to walk that fence for eight hours a day, I’d be a lazy dog, too. He burst out laughing. He said, ‘Since nothing ever happens here, we only go out for about ten minutes each hour, and Adelfried doesn’t even want to walk that much.’ I, of course, laughed with him and said I wished he could come to the wedding. He asked me to visit before I went home, and I said I hoped I could.

  “On our way back to the farm, I made my final plan. I would escape as soon as possible after the wedding.

  “The wedding was the next day, but before it ever began, I was prepared. I had brought a good pair of hiking boots with me, but not the right clothes. They would have looked suspicious. I managed to find some old farm clothes that fit close enough. On one of my walks around the farm, I’d seen a rusty pair of wire cutters. I got those, too, hoping they were sharp enough to cut barbed wire.

  “I went to the wedding and danced till the end. But as soon as we got back to the farm, I told everyone I was exhausted and went off to bed. It was about eleven or twelve, but I knew I couldn’t allow myself to sleep. I sat in a corner for two hours, until every sound died away and I was sure everyone was asleep. Only then did I dress in the old clothes and my boots. With the cutters stuffed deep in my pocket, I headed out.

  “Every time the floorboards squeaked, I was sure someone would hear. But I think all that beer and wine at the wedding made everyone sleep soundly. I headed up the road with no suitcase, no extra clothes, no money, nothing but the wire cutters. I kept rehearsing my best excuse if I got caught: I was sneaking off to see Manfred. I would get in trouble, but not big trouble.

  “There was a bit of a moon, but clouds, too, which made me feel safer. It was eerily quiet. Then I heard a car behind me. I whipped around to see lights coming straight for me. I was sure it was the Stasi, that someone had guessed and ratted me out. I managed to jump off the road and into a field. I lay face down, wishing the plants were tall enough to cover me. I expected to hear screeching brakes as they stopped the car to grab me. But it went right by.”

  Ingrid’s speech had gotten slower and slower. Her sentences dragged out, devoid of emotion, as if the words were coming from far away—almost another world. Jack watched her purple eyes—dull. This time she made no effort to hide that cold, distant stare. She was no longer there in the Gästehaus with them. She was back reliving the whole thing.

  “Even now I can smell plowed earth and sugar beets when I think of that night. I forced myself to lie still for a long time, straining to hear the car return. If they had spotted me, they would be doubling back. Eventually I got up. It was over an hour before I saw the lights of the guard hut maybe two hundred meters away. It was around three in the morning, or a little after.

  “I wasn’t going any closer in case the dog could hear or smell me. Instead, I went back about a hundred meters and then walked into the woods for about five minutes, before heading back in the direction I hoped would be the fence. It was dark in those woods, but my eyes adjusted. Then, the clouds briefly parted and I saw the fence. I was on a little hill only seventy meters from the Iron Curtain.”

  Jack saw Ingrid’s hands press against the table as she forced herself to tell more.

  “Thorns from some bush poked through the legs of my pants, but that was the least of my worries. I felt so jumpy I had to force myself not to run down toward the fence.”

  “Why didn’t you?” asked Queenie in a soft voice.

  “I feared the guard dogs. If I went down there, they might pick up my scent. I knew I had to wait until I’d seen the border guards pass by for their ten-minute stroll. Then I’d have an hour to make my attempt.

  “Believe it or not, I began to fall asleep. I know it sounds crazy, but at this most important moment of my life, my fear became too much, and my body seemed to wind down. Despite my panic, I had to keep waking myself up.

  Jack nodded, understanding too well: her “winding down” was his “shutting down.”

  “So many nights, I have a nightmare that I wake up in those woods to find a guard prodding me with his rifle.”

  Queenie shivered. “That’s awful.”

  Ingrid only shrugged. “Spotting the guards turned out to be easy. They were smoking cigarettes! Even with the moon behind the clouds again, I could see the two tiny, red glows heading away from the guard building. And I could hear their voices, though not the words. I realized if I could hear them, they could hear me. I was so scared I might make a sound that I even stopped breathing, until I realized I was holding my breath. I forced myself to exhale. Falling asleep was no longer a problem, my heart was pounding so hard, I worried they’d actually hear it. Manfred had said they only went out for ten minutes, but to me, it seemed an hour before they finally passed by again. I learned over and over again that night that when terror grips you, time slows dramatically.

  “Finally, I started toward the fence, expecting every moment to be caught. My hands were shaking when I reached for the barbed wire. I thought, I’m actually touching the Iron Curtain. My mind went wild with questions. Was I too clever with Manfred? Had he seen through my flirting? Does he expect me to make a break for it?

  “I was so angry with my brain that I yelled inside my head, Shut up. Just shut up! I need to think.

  “I didn’t want to cut through the fence unless I had to. That would leave proof someone had escaped. My disappearance would point to me. I hoped to scramble over the fence and be gone without a trace. So I climbed onto the wires. But I’d only made it up about three feet before the wires started shaking like crazy. They were too loose to climb. I lost my balance, falling forward against them. The moment that happened, the wires acted like a spring, catapulting me backwards. Completely off balance, I let go and went flying. But I never hit the ground. Somehow I was left hanging from the fence. I realized the sharp barbs were hooking my clothes and struggling made it worse. I hadn’t thought I could feel more afraid, but this was worse than all the rest. I was sure searchlights would come on to find me hanging there. Then a horn would blast, and guards with machine guns would run up to rip me from the fence. My brain screamed, What in God’s name was I thinking? I’m out of my mind!

  “But nothing happened. Eventually the wires calmed, and my body didn’t bob so much. My hands stopped trembling enough that I could begin unhooking my clothes, one barb at a time. When I was down to the last few barbs, my clothes ripped free, and my body smacked the ground. I was pretty jarred, desperately trying t
o catch my breath, but I fought down my panic long enough to pull out the old pair of cutters and attack the bottom wire. It wouldn’t cut! I just wasn’t strong enough. My heart began beating so hard I thought I would burst a blood vessel. But for some strange reason my hands filled with superhuman strength. Squeezing the cutters with all my might, I snapped the wire. I didn’t dare pause for even a second. I moved on, cutting the next two. Then my hands cramped so badly, the cutters fell to the ground. But I’d done enough.

  “I was terrified I would get snagged on the barbed wire again, and this time not be able to get unhooked, so I lay on my back and began wiggling through, face up. That way I could keep an eye on those vicious hooks. I had intended to use my hands to keep them away from me. But my hands were useless once I had to keep them pressed against my sides—that was the only way I could fit through the opening. Inching my way forward, it was amazing my face didn’t get sliced up. One hook was only a millimeter or two away. I finally managed to slip through the fence.

  “I staggered to my feet and ran toward the West. I probably hadn’t made it more than half a kilometer before I tripped and went flying to the ground, flipping head over heels, somehow landing face up. I had nothing left. Everything spun around, and I passed out.”

  Ingrid stared at her beer glass, as if she once again had nothing left.

  Jack shifted his head from side to side, trying to loosen his shoulders. Glancing around the Gästehaus, he thought of another café, where Col. McHenry had talked to Jean-Sébastien. What is it about these European kids? They’re so brave. How would I react? If my time ever comes, will I hold it together the way they do?

  Ingrid stirred, coming back to them.

  “I’m sure hours passed before I woke. My two conscious thoughts were daylight and pain. My entire body ached. Slowly, things began to come back to me. I was pretty sure I was in West Germany.

  “I managed to sit up. I was in a big, open field. Struggling to my feet, I put one wobbly foot in front of the other. But I had no idea which way to go. If it was the morning, then west would be away from the sun. If I’d slept into the afternoon, west would be toward the sun. I gambled it was still early and I headed away from the sun. When I came to a road, I could no longer get my body to budge. I lay on my side by the road for hours. Not a cart or car or person passed by.