She pressed his hand for a second but pulled away at once.
“I do know him, Tadeusz. Alfred. Alfred von Rombach, Gruppenführer von Rombach’s son. Sturmbannführer von Rombach’s nephew. All, as golden pheasant as they come. They were family friends. A long line of Prussian Junkers turned high-ranking SS men, Reichstag members… You understand.”
“Tak.” Tadek hadn’t realized he’d switched to Polish. The admission, no matter how expected, caught him unawares.
“Tak,” she mocked and shifted her weight slightly. “We grew up together. He’s only a year older than me. Golden child, just like I was. The marriage between us was a somewhat decided matter ever since… as long as I remember myself, really. They always put us together in photos and we looked so very good next to each other. He was in the Hitlerjugend and I was a BDM girl. Vati liked him a lot. Reichsmarschall, too. The von Rombachs were often guests in his hunting lodge together with us. Vati wouldn’t go hunting himself and he would often joke that it was easier for him to shoot a man than an animal. He loved all animals. He had a very soft heart when it came to anything innocent…” She caught herself straying and shook her head as though to clear it. The gesture came out angry, abrupt. “A year ago, in the fall of 1944, during the Harvest celebratory dinner – I’m not sure what precisely we were celebrating at that point as the rationing got even to us – he gave me a promise ring. A sort of pre-engagement ring. In front of both our families. Gruppenführer von Rombach was all smiles and promised that I’d get their family ring on the day of our actual engagement when I’m eighteen.”
She paused. Tadek waited, his breath high and shallow in his throat.
“I told you, I started working at the Charité hospital in March.”
“Yes.”
“Alfred came to see me in April. He was being sent to the Berlin defense line along with the boys under his charge. He came to say goodbye to me. Berlin was almost entirely surrounded by then.”
Tadek saw her knuckles turn white as she clutched at the glass.
“He said, he wanted to say goodbye in private, not in front of all the doctors and nurses and all of those poor wretches we had to put right on the floor… So, I went with him to the cellar where the bomb shelter was. It was empty during the day. With the Ivans so close, the Amis hardly ever bombed us anymore so as not to kill them by accident.”
Tadek let her go through all of those unnecessary details without interrupting. He almost wished her to start speaking about something entirely different, just not to get to the main point, not to have to be there with her in that cellar, alone with Alfred.
“I thought he only wanted to talk.” Another long pause. She rose to her feet a bit unsteadily and poured herself more cognac. There was no talking about it without alcohol, that much was obvious. “And then, instead of goodbyes, he said, you saw what those Asian hordes do to women. Better me than them. That was his reasoning for what he did. Didn’t want the Russians to rape me before him.”
She sat back on the bed, brought the glass to her lips and poured the contents down her throat. Her hand was shaking. Tadek took it gently in his and she didn’t pull away.
“Do you know what’s the funniest part? When the Ivans came, they didn’t touch us. They had so many injured with them – their own – and we tended to them along with their doctors and they spared us. The frontline troops were actually decent fellows and even supplied us with their medications and whatnot. It was the rear troops that came after them, that began all that wild orgy all over Berlin but we were still safe in the hospital with ‘our’ Ivans. You know, when they first came, I almost wanted them to do it, just so that the entire rotten affair would be somewhat justified at least.” Her icy fingers dug into his palm with force. “How damn ironic it is, that the people who I expected to hurt me, didn’t and the person who I thought would protect me, did this to me instead. Isn’t it funny? I think it’s hysterical. Fate has some sick sense of humor, wouldn’t you say?”
“It certainly has,” Tadek muttered under his breath. It was illegal bringing anything even remotely resembling a weapon to school but he was suddenly considering smuggling a knife in his pocket. He didn’t need a large one, just a small one would do. Stuff its end into an apple – there are plenty of those in the orchard – and put it into your pocket that way, so the blade doesn’t pierce its way through. “Did you report it?”
From Gerlinde, a cold, derisive snort. “To whom? The police? They’d tell me to take a number and have a seat along with the entire rest of Eastern Germany. Doctor Dressler, my immediate superior? He’d laugh and say that he wished he had my troubles. He barely slept those days, three-four hours if he were lucky. His arms, elbows deep in blood, hardly any medications left, almost no anesthetics, mutilated half-corpses, like a carpet on the floor and the more he bandaged, the more they brought in. You truly believe something of my sort was on the list of his priorities?” She shook her head again, a cynical smirk barely visible in the meager light coming from the hallway. “It wasn’t even on the list of my priorities, to be truthful. I thought it to be best not to think about it at all after Alfred had left. I didn’t even cry, believe it or not. I was angry and numb but most of all just numb. So, I fixed my clothes and went back to work. I thought I’d forget all about it with time… But then I saw his face today and it all came rushing back to me, like a wave and I felt like I was drowning—”
“Like with me and that idiotic Red Cross truck?”
She smiled softly. “Exactly.” Her head was on his shoulder now, heavy and alien and familiar at the same time. “Does it often happen to you? The memories, that is?”
“Not often. Just when something triggers them. And at nights, too.”
“Yes. The nights. I hate the nights the most.”
“What about your father?”
“What about him?”
“Did you tell him?”
She was quiet for a moment. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Didn’t want to upset him with that on top of other things, I suppose. Like he didn’t want to upset me with certain things. In the very end, he was burning so many papers in the fireplace, papers and photos… When I asked him what those were, he said, nothing. Nothing for me to worry about.” She paused. “Perhaps, he wanted to protect me. Or was too ashamed to admit it. That’s why I didn’t tell him anything. Or, perhaps I didn’t tell him because deep inside I was afraid that he wouldn’t believe me or would get angry with me or, worst of all, would do nothing.” After another long pause, she finished softly, “you’re the only person I’ve ever told.”
Tadek felt his throat constricting. He kissed the top of her head with infinite tenderness and wondered if Morris could find von Rombachs’ current address for him – for the “investigation purposes.”
12
The interrogation room was dingy and dark. Despite Morris’s reassurances that the Gestapo never used it, that it was a storage room or some such, it still reeked of the SS uniforms and the cigarettes they burned into people’s skin to untie unwilling tongues – at least, in Tadek’s imagination, it did.
Morris sat at the table; its legs screwed to the floor by big bolts. Across from him, Alfred von Rombach, a cigarette in hand. Tadek watched him from his corner and fought the urge to stub that cigarette into one of the Nazi’s gray eyes to burn that arrogant look out of them once and for all.
“I have told you already, I have not the faintest idea where Gruppenführer Neumann is.” Alfred said the words but his smirk told another story, purposely taunting the American agent in front of him.
To Morris, it was nothing new. He appeared almost bored and utterly unimpressed with the German’s demonstratively laidback pose. “Your family was close to the Neumann family, was that not so?”
From von Rombach, a shrug. He began regarding his cuticles.
“You were engaged to their daughter, Gerlinde Neumann.”
“Ja… She broke it off with me. Not that I blame her
. In her position, having a Jew as a friend is much more beneficial now.” He smiled at Tadek sweetly. “And if he comes straight from the camp – even better. I would love to get myself one of those, a girl, of course. I bet your Military Government wouldn’t be starving me to death with my category V ration card then.”
“As an unemployed young adult that’s all you’re eligible for.”
“Mhm. Three hundred grams of bread a day, twenty of meat, and fifteen of sugar? We don’t call them ‘death cards’ for nothing, you know. We fed Jews in the camps better; ask Gruppenführer Neumann, if you ever find him.”
Morris ignored the jab. “Get yourself a job.”
“Can’t. I’m not cleared by your War Department yet. They’re still trying to figure out whether I’m a Nazi or not.”
“You are. That’s why they’re not clearing you. As a matter of fact, you should be grateful you’re not in jail and that’s solely due to your age. By the way, you can always work for food. That’s permitted with your current papers.”
Judging by von Rombach’s derisive snort, it was the last thing he would consider.
“Getting back to Otto Neumann.”
“I’ve already told you; I know nothing. I was sent to the defense of Berlin in April. I haven’t a clue where exactly he fled to. I wasn’t there to bid him my farewell.”
“We have already established that. Wouldn’t your father know about his escape plans?”
“My father lucked out and kicked the bucket before all hell broke loose. The last day they bombed us, he found just the place to be for one of your Ami bomber squadrons’ eggs to drop right on top of his staff car.”
“He’s listed as missing.”
“Well, ja; we couldn’t quite gather the body – or even body parts for that matter – for proper identification or burial, don’t you think so?”
“I think he may be very much alive and on the run along with his good friend Neumann.”
“Wouldn’t that be an interesting turn of events?” The young man was outright laughing.
Once again, Tadek marveled at the cruel curve of his lips, the mocking tone of his voice. Nazi or not, laughing in such a manner when speaking of one’s father’s death made him shudder, in spite of himself.
“Your uncle is very much alive, though.”
“He is. I live with him now, after my family’s house got destroyed. He’s under house arrest though. You could at least communicate with your colleagues from the OSS before bringing me here for interrogation.”
“The OSS no longer exists, we are the SSU now. And we did communicate with them and learned that he was in touch with Otto Neumann right before the latter took flight. They met at your uncle’s villa the night before Neumann left Berlin.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Yes, we have established that as well. However, you’ve been living with him, under the same roof, ever since your release from the POW camp.” Morris paused. “Surely, you had a lot of things to discuss.”
“Maybe we did and maybe, we didn’t.” Another provocative grin from von Rombach.
“Shall I bring him here and ask him personally or will you be so kind as to save me some time?”
“I will save you some time. I’ll tell you right now that you shouldn’t be wasting your breath. He hasn’t said anything to your colleagues – who roughed him up quite well, it should be noted – and I don’t see him being any more forthcoming with you. Why don’t you ask Gerlinde? Perhaps, she’ll tell you what she knows.”
“She knows nothing. She purposely asked Otto Neumann not to tell her where he was going.”
For some time, von Rombach was sitting silently, a smile slowly growing on his face. “It’s interesting that you believe her and not me. Is it because she’s a girl? Be so kind, satisfy my curiosity.”
“No. Because I know her as a person and have grown to trust her. She wouldn’t lie to me.”
“That’s interesting,” Alfred repeated. His grin turned outright predatory. “Did she tell you about the letter from her father that I passed to her?”
For an instant, it appeared as though the entire cell had suddenly become devoid of air. Tadek froze where he stood, feeling the blood leaving his extremities. In his chair, Morris straightened imperceptibly, squared his shoulders, cleared his throat and tried collecting himself but young von Rombach had already seen the effect his words had produced.
“I take it, she didn’t.” He leaned forward and stubbed his cigarette in a metal ashtray. “May I have another one?” With wonderful nonchalance, he motioned toward Morris’s pack. “They aren’t included in my ration card and I was ready to kill for a smoke. The sole reason why I came here, if I’m entirely honest.”
Mechanically, Morris handed him an open pack of Camels. Von Rombach took two, stuck one behind his ear and put another one in his mouth.
“What was in the letter?” Morris asked quietly.
“How would I know? I’m from a very good family. I have manners. It wasn’t for me and I don’t read other people’s correspondence.”
He was toying with them again.
“Where did it come from?”
“Italy. Rome… Or was it Naples?” Alfred pretended to think. “No. I think it was Venice. What does it matter anyway? It was dated, July; wherever he had sent it from, Neumann isn’t stupid enough to hang around to wait for the reply.”
“Who gave it to you?”
“It was mailed. Regular post. Stamps and return address, all business as it should be – some monastery, if I remember correctly. I apologize for not being able to give you more precise information. My memory has been playing up. Malnutrition does that to you.”
“What was in it?” Morris pressed, ignoring the German’s sarcasm.
“I have already told you, I haven’t read it,” von Rombach repeated, articulating each word, as though for a child. “Ask Gerlinde,” he said and then delivered a final blow. “After all, you know her so well.”
Tadek felt himself shivering. The betrayal tasted bitter on the tip of his tongue. He stood in front of Morris desperately searching his face, only to see the same disappointment in the American’s downcast eyes. For some time after von Rombach was released, Morris played with his lighter without uttering a single word. It was that silence that Tadek couldn’t tolerate any longer.
“Perhaps, he’s lying.” He was grasping at straws and he knew it but it was all he had now. The very thought of losing the only friend he thought he’d found was unbearable to him. “Perhaps, he said it on purpose, to confuse us…”
“Tadeusz, how soon did you notice him talking to her, in that stadium?” Morris asked instead.
“The game was on but I was looking at her from time to time. I never let her out of my sight for a long period of time.” He regarded Morris tragically with his guilty eyes.
Morris waved away the unspoken apology at once. “Don’t blame yourself. Trained agents make mistakes worse than yours and you’re not a trained agent by any stretch of the imagination. I’m only asking, is there a possibility he could have actually slipped something into her hands without your seeing it?”
Tadek considered carefully and recalled his conversation with Gerlinde that took place a few nights ago before he brought von Rombach to Morris’s attention and suggested interrogating him. Irritably, he rubbed his forehead. “She wouldn’t take anything from him. She can’t stand the sight of him for… personal reasons.” It wasn’t his story to tell and if she chose not to tell Morris, Tadek wouldn’t be the one to betray her secret. “She broke off the engagement with him, he told you this much himself. She was screaming at him not to approach her ever again—”
“Are you not considering the possibility that it was all a mere act?” Morris sighed tiredly.
Tadek stared at him in stunned silence. Hiding the letter was one thing but this… this was an entirely different matter altogether. But that night when she’d come to talk to him, how could one lie about such things? He saw her ey
es, her hands – her voice didn’t lie.
“No. She wouldn’t. Wouldn’t do it to me,” he finished in a mere whisper.
“You would be surprised to what lengths they, Nazis, go sometimes.”
“She’s not like them. Not like von Rombach. Not even like her father.”
“She is his daughter.”
“No.” Tadek found it difficult to breathe.
“I hope you don’t have any sort of feelings for her?” Morris regarded him closely.
“No, it’s not like that…” She was his very good friend. He’d grown to love her like a sister. Tadek closed his eyes and rubbed them with force. It was all too much.
“I’ll repeat my question: is there a possibility that von Rombach could have passed something to her without your noticing?”
After an interminably long pause, Tadek hung his head. “Yes,” he felt like he was confessing to murder.
Morris only nodded several times, to some thoughts of his own, no doubt. “Well, that shall be a lesson to us all. Never trust a Nazi, no matter how artfully they worm their way into our trust. It’s all right.” He reached for Tadek’s hand and patted it in a fatherly gesture. “We fell for it once and now we shall be smarter. No harm done. It’s just one letter. Gerlinde is still here. We’ll just watch her closely from now on. I’ll have plain-clothed men monitoring her every move. Perhaps, it’s all for the better. And, Tadeusz?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t tell her anything. Don’t tell her we know.”
The drive home was sickeningly long and silent. It poured outside and some of the roads were washed out. The wall of rain obscured everything from their sight and Tadek was forced to look at his hands instead and wonder at his own gullibility and curse his own nature and Gerlinde and the entire hostile world around. Outside the window, streaked with rain, the mourning parade of people lining up for their meager rations, their black umbrellas turning their lines into one long funeral procession. He mourned, along with them, mourned the loss of the last person the Nazis had taken from him. How ignorant was the hope that at least she was safe from their reach and how hard that blow had hit him! Even without being personally present, Gruppenführer Neumann had corrupted the last thing Tadek held dear and now, there was nothing else for him left in this world to love or to fight for. What a wretched day! What a wretched existence, to live like that, for the sake of revenge only… It wasn’t what he wanted for himself and only now did it dawn on him – a moment too late.
The Road to Liberation: Trials and Triumphs of WWII Page 25
