by Ella Zeiss
‘Leipzig is a great and beautiful city, with wide streets and paved bridges, shops for anything a person could desire, and church spires that touch the sky.’
‘When were you there, Onkel?’ eight-year-old Ludwig wanted to know, sounding fascinated.
Vater thought for a moment. ‘It must be almost twenty-five years ago,’ he said at last, surprising even himself.
‘And you really saw everything?’
‘Yes, I did,’ he nodded in reply. ‘I visited the university there. I can assure you, you have never seen a library like it in all your life – books as far as the eye can see.’ His face took on a dreamy look as so often when he talked about that wonderful light-hearted time in his life. ‘I studied German and theology there.’
‘What’s theology?’ Ludwig asked with interest.
Harri heard his mother clear her throat in warning and Vater lowered his eyes guiltily. ‘It’s not very important,’ he said hastily.
He had explained to Harri some time ago that theology was the study of God, and that it was now a forbidden subject they weren’t supposed to talk about any more. Harri would have to take Ludwig aside later on and warn him not to accidentally mention it to anyone.
‘I would so like to see it sometime,’ his sister sighed longingly.
‘Maybe you will . . .’
‘And if not,’ Mutter interrupted, ‘it doesn’t matter. We have a lovely life here, haven’t we?’
‘Yes, Mutter,’ Emma answered obediently, but Harri understood what his sister was feeling. Whenever his father started talking about the university and all the books, he longed to be able to see it all too. He would love to study there one day. There was such an enormous gulf between the stately rooms and halls he pictured in his mind, and the small school he actually attended.
‘Why didn’t you stay, Onkel?’ Ludwig asked, sounding confused. ‘I would never have left such a beautiful city.’
Vater shrugged. ‘I was visiting my parents in the Ukraine when the World War broke out and I couldn’t go back to complete my studies.’
‘But the war has been over for years . . .’
‘You’re right, it has, but then there was the Revolution and then . . . I didn’t want to leave any more.’
‘The food’s ready!’ Mutter said just then, saving her husband from any more questions.
The children ran to the table cheering loudly, then all folded their hands politely while Onkel Otto said a short prayer as head of the family.
From an early age, their parents had always told them they must never do this anywhere else, although Harri didn’t really understand why, but here at home they were able to honour the old customs and practise their faith.
After their meal, Vater would open the tattered old Bible. He would read the Christmas story out loud before they were at last allowed to open the parcels wrapped in colourful paper and tied with ribbons that were waiting on the table by the window.
He wouldn’t tell the other children at school tomorrow what had happened today. You weren’t supposed to celebrate Christmas and most of the pupils in his class didn’t even know it existed.
Harri had just popped one last potato into his mouth when there was a loud knock at the door.
‘It must be Saint Nicholas,’ Emma whispered in awe. Not convinced, Harri shook his head and motioned her to be quiet. He couldn’t take his eyes off the adults, who exchanged an unsettled glance.
Another knock on the door.
‘Open up!’ They heard a coarse-sounding voice outside.
Onkel Otto stood up and straightened his waistcoat, then walked calmly to the door.
Suddenly Harri’s mouth went dry and he held on to the table to stop his fingers from shaking. You could almost see the tension in the air, although he couldn’t say why. Nothing awful had happened. Somebody had simply knocked on the door. Maybe it was just the neighbour come to borrow a couple of eggs or a pound of flour.
He so hoped it was their neighbour.
Onkel Otto opened the door and a cold draught of wind blew into the room.
Three armed men in dark uniforms stood there, staring at him with grim faces.
‘Otto Pfeiffer?’ the one in the middle demanded sternly.
‘Yes.’
‘We are arresting you as an enemy of the people for belonging to a Fascist organisation and planning a terrorist attack against the Government.’
‘What?’ All the colour drained out of Onkel Otto’s face. He reeled and Tante Gerda gasped in horror.
‘There must be some mistake,’ he said, trying to steady his voice. ‘I am a loyal citizen of the Soviet Union. I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘We have different information. You must come with us now.’
‘No!’ Tante Gerda dashed to her husband’s side. ‘He hasn’t done anything!’
‘Out of the way, Comrade,’ one of the men said, and pushed her back roughly.
‘Don’t worry, darling. It’ll all get sorted out,’ Onkel Otto said, trying to reassure his wife. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’ Tears ran down Tante Gerda’s face.
He grabbed his coat. ‘Look after the boys, won’t you?’ His voice was shaking.
‘Of course I will.’
He turned his head and took one last look at each of them as if he were saying goodbye, then nodded to the men and together they left the house.
As soon as they had gone, Tante Gerda broke down in tears and fell to the floor. Harri’s parents ran to her side to help her up. The four children stared at each other in shock.
‘Where has my father gone?’ Ludwig asked, sounding scared. His voice was little more than a squeaky whisper.
‘Away,’ Harri replied. He felt stunned and empty. The world that had seemed so safe and secure only moments ago had changed completely. His uncle was the kindest, most friendly person. He wouldn’t hurt a soul. He was no enemy of the people. Harri was suddenly filled with relief as he realised this – it was all a huge misunderstanding.
‘He is coming back, isn’t he, Mutter?’ Harri asked hesitantly. ‘They’ll realise that he did nothing wrong and let him go, won’t they?’ At school they were always being told how good and fair the Soviet Union was, after all.
His mother’s eyes were filled with deep sadness and fear as she turned to him. ‘From your lips to the mouth of God, my son,’ she said.
January 1938, Settlement Sor-El, Soviet Republic of Komi
Anna nearly slipped on the hard-packed snow and had to fight to keep her balance. Even after all these years, she still wasn’t used to the freezing winters which usually lasted from October till April. The snow on either side of the narrow path that led to her house was piled waist-high.
At last she got to the front door and kicked her feet to knock off the heavy clods of snow that stuck to her felt boots.
It was still the same old hut they had moved into almost eight years ago and each time she looked at it, the memories came flooding back. How they had been crammed together, two hundred families all defying the terrible winter in the most confined space. They’d been lucky. They had managed to find room in one of the four hastily erected huts. People who came later had been forced to spend the winter in low mud huts, barely more than a hole in the ground with a tin roof on top.
She had no idea how they had managed to muster the strength to survive, but their tenacity had paid off. Slowly but surely their lives had improved and grown easier. The people had managed to form a community despite their very different roots and heritage, and to carve a thriving settlement out of the bare Arctic ground.
She put the key into the lock and turned it, and immediately was met with cosy warmth. Although the building looked almost identical from the outside to how it was before, the large room indoors had been subdivided into four two-room apartments, each with a small kitchen and its own front door. Her family now lived in one of them.
Relieved, Anna let her heavy bag slide from her shoulder. There were twenty exer
cise books waiting to be corrected. She loved her work at the school and was delighted to be able to pass her knowledge on to the next generation. Not many of the resettlers had known how to read or write, so when the school was founded, she had been asked if she would like to teach instead of working at the sewing shop. Wilhelm had helped out too at first, but was offered a position as an accountant when the sawmill expanded and had since become a section leader.
Anna took off her boots and thick padded coat and placed them beside the stove to dry. Her husband would be home in an hour. Rita and Yvo had gone to visit a friend after school but would be back soon too. Erich would be the last one home as usual. Anna was proud of her son, who was training to be a technician after finishing eight years of schooling. She would have loved him to continue his education, but for that he would have had to leave home and go to boarding school. They couldn’t bring themselves to do that. Even as things stood, she hardly ever saw him. He was always first to leave in the morning to get to his classes in the neighbouring village on time, and the last one home at night.
Anna sat down by the table to start peeling potatoes for dinner. A knock at the door made her stop in her tracks.
Maria was standing at the door, her eyes red from crying.
‘What’s wrong?’ Anna jumped to her feet in alarm. ‘Has something happened to Richard or Ella?’
‘No.’ Sobbing, Maria shook her head and closed the door behind her. ‘The children are fine, but the secret police arrested Albert today.’
‘What?’ Anna took a moment to understand what Maria was saying. She could scarcely believe it as it slowly sank in. ‘Are you sure?’
When she saw the look on her friend’s face, she held her tongue. Of course Maria was sure. She would never have said so without reason. ‘What happened?’ Anna asked as calmly as possible, pulling up a chair for her friend.
Limply Maria slumped down without bothering to take off her outdoor clothes. Anna gently pulled off the young woman’s hat and undid the buttons on her thick coat.
Maria clasped her hands, all red from the cold. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do,’ she whispered in despair.
‘Just tell me.’
‘I wasn’t there when it happened. Albert went to work as usual this morning and they took him away when he got there. One of his colleagues told me at lunchtime.’ Her voice faltered and she took several deep breaths to stop herself shaking. ‘Albert asked him to tell me so that I wouldn’t worry!’ She shook her head at the absurdity of it all. ‘I ran straight to the administration centre to find out what they’ve accused him of.’
‘Well?’
Her shoulders started to shake and she dropped her head in despair. ‘One stupid silly thing he said is going to cost him ten years in prison.’
An icy shudder ran down Anna’s back. ‘What did he say?’ she whispered.
Maria’s eyes darted around the room as if she were afraid that someone who shouldn’t might be listening even here. ‘You’ve heard about the new atheist circle?’
Anna nodded cautiously. This was the Soviet Government’s latest attempt to rid the population of any lingering religious sentiment. Wilhelm had been invited too. Refusal to attend would be seen as a reactionary act against the Soviet regime, which was why her husband was forced to listen to Party members denouncing and ridiculing the Bible from week to week. She remembered Wilhelm mention that he’d seen Albert there at the last meeting – so at least he’d been sensible enough to go along.
‘He was given a note to go and pick up his red member’s pass, and he made a joke, to friends, mind you,’ she said with emphasis, ‘that of course he would collect it because fools love the colour red.’ Horrified, she stared at Anna. ‘That’s all. He didn’t say anything else – he just said something about a colour. Everyone laughed but one of them must have gone straight to the secret police to report on him.’ She said no more and just shook her head in disbelief. ‘Ten years’ imprisonment for one single stupid joke. He won’t be able to see the children grow up, because of this one small slip.’ She started to sob.
Without a word, Anna wrapped her arms around her friend. There was nothing she could do or say to help. Albert wasn’t the first. These days they were constantly hearing about people being taken in for questioning for a careless remark. The Party was determined to nip any dissatisfaction in the bud, but this was the first time someone in her immediate circle had been hit. The fact that there had been no Party official or superior present when Albert said what he did made everything even more sinister.
How could they all live together if they couldn’t trust each other any more? When every friend could be a traitor?
‘I’m so sorry,’ Anna whispered.
‘Thank you for listening,’ Maria said, wiping her face with her hands. There was a new sense of reserve in her voice that Anna had never heard before, but she couldn’t blame Maria. Not after what had happened to Albert. Not after what she had just been thinking.
‘Did you hear about Albert?’ Anna asked in bed, whispering into the dark. Wilhelm had come home at the same time as the girls and Anna hadn’t wanted to talk about it in front of the children.
‘Yes,’ he said, pulling her close. ‘It’s a terrible thing.’
‘Promise me that the same thing won’t happen to you,’ she demanded quietly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘That you’ll be careful with what you say. No jokes about the Party, no lack of respect. I don’t want to lose you too.’ She touched his cheek. ‘Promise me.’
He gave a long sigh. ‘You’re right – I really do need to be careful.’
‘Why?’ The way he’d said it made her look up.
He hesitated. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you so as not to worry you, but maybe it’s better if you know.’
She waited for him to continue while cold fear spread through her insides. They’d had a conversation like this once before and after that their lives had been shattered.
‘A couple of days ago, two men from the GUGB came and asked me to work as a civilian informer. They said my position at the sawmill and the fact that I speak both Russian and German made me the perfect choice. They want me to listen and talk to people to help uncover subversive tendencies and dispositions.’
Anna’s heart plummeted. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said it was an honour to be asked, but that I couldn’t see myself doing this. I could never be friendly with people who were spreading anti-Soviet propaganda or criticism.’
She felt relieved. It was a clever answer. ‘Did they believe you?’
‘I hope so,’ he said with a shrug. ‘They thanked me politely for being honest and left.’
‘You do realise you won’t be the only one they approached with an offer like that?’
‘I know,’ he said dismally. ‘Anyone at the mill could be an informer.’
‘Not just there.’
They fell silent, holding each other tight, each wrapped in their own anxious thoughts.
‘We don’t need to worry,’ Wilhelm said at last. ‘We haven’t done anything wrong. We are honest, law-abiding citizens.’
‘Don’t you think there will be consequences because you refused to spy for them?’
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted honestly. ‘My supervisor thinks a lot of me. I don’t think there is anyone at the mill who could replace me at the moment. Maybe they’ll let matters rest, and if not’ – he was trying to sound unconcerned, but it wasn’t working very well – ‘then I’ll go back to felling trees.’
Anna swallowed. ‘A letter came from Rita’s aunt today,’ she said to quickly change the subject. She didn’t want to think about what Wilhelm was saying.
When the German resettlers had finally been given full Soviet passports, turning them into free citizens with equal rights, Anna had done her best to contact Rita’s family at last. She could only remember the name of the woman and the place where she lived. It had taken a lot of time and effort as wel
l as several letters to the town council but she had finally been able to locate the right address.
Agnes had been delighted to receive word of her niece. For a long time she had assumed the girl to be lost, and had immediately offered to take Rita in. Anna had hesitated until now.
‘Agnes would like to see Rita,’ Anna said, taking a deep breath. ‘Perhaps we really should take her to live with her aunt.’ The thought of being separated from the girl was more than painful. Rita was like a daughter to them both and they loved her dearly. Nonetheless, it might well be better to send her away. Wilhelm’s refusal to work for the secret police could have dire consequences for all of them. They would be watched very closely. It was impossible to imagine what might happen to the children if she or Wilhelm were arrested for any reason. They could at least provide Rita with a safer place to live than here. According to the letters from Agnes, the situation in the Ukraine was not as tense.
‘I’ll talk to Rita tomorrow,’ Anna decided quietly. It was Saturday and the whole family would be at home.
‘She won’t like it.’
Anna nodded. ‘I know.’ It was the most difficult decision she had had to make so far. She wouldn’t just be breaking Rita’s heart, she’d be breaking Erich’s as well.
She hadn’t missed the looks and touches that her son and his adopted sister exchanged now and then. Of course Rita was far too young at thirteen, but she and Erich had had a special connection from day one. Anna had no idea how serious their budding feelings really were. They weren’t a couple yet, she was sure. Neither Erich nor Rita would have kept that a secret, but they weren’t far from it.
Was it just a crush, childhood sweethearts who would soon get over a separation, or was it the start of something more serious?
‘She’d be well looked after at her aunt’s,’ Wilhelm said. He could obviously sense her doubts. Anna very much hoped that he was right.
‘No way! It’s out of the question!’ Erich was pacing up and down the kitchen like a caged animal.
