The Road to Liberation: Trials and Triumphs of WWII

by Marion Kummerow

  Gretchen shook her gently to wake her.

  “What time is it?” said Inge, stretching her arms.

  “It’s early. Did you get any sleep?”

  “Not much. It’s freezing in here.”

  “You can come back to the apartment if you like.”

  Inge hesitated. “Is Oskar still there?”

  Gretchen handed her the key. “Yes, but I found the key. You can use it to lock the bedroom door.”

  Inge took the key and got to her feet. Gretchen wrapped the overcoat around her skinny shoulders, picked up the book and they headed out. Before they left, she replaced the padlock on the cabin door and locked it.

  They hurried back across the golf course and through deserted streets to the apartment. Once inside, Gretchen took some bedclothes and made up a bed for Oskar on the sofa in the main room. Then she got Oskar out of bed and moved him to the sofa.

  Inge slipped into the bedroom and locked the door.

  At midday, a Kübelwagen drew up at the apartment block and two Feldjägerkorps men jumped out. They went through the building, banging on apartment doors. There was a lot of shouting. They arrived on the second floor and hammered on Gretchen’s door.

  “Schutzstaffel. Open up!”

  Gretchen opened the door and a head-hunter pushed past her. Oskar was on the sofa, sitting up, with a glass of water in his hands.

  “Name?” demanded the Feldjägerkorps officer.

  “His name’s Oskar Schuster,” said Gretchen, as calmly as she could.

  “Let him speak for himself,” said the officer.

  “He can’t,” Gretchen replied. “He suffered shellshock in combat. He was discharged from the army in 1943 on health grounds.”

  “On health grounds, you say? He looks able-bodied. We need everyone to defend the city.” He leant over and slapped Oskar’s face.

  Oskar’s eyes remained blank, but he looked confused.

  “Please don’t hit him,” said Gretchen. “He was checked by your office in December. They sent him home.”

  The head-hunter looked into Oskar’s eyes. “Oskar, speak to me.” He slapped him again. Oskar remained blank.

  The officer lost interest in Oskar and cast his gaze around the room. “Who else lives here?”

  “No one,” said Gretchen.

  He stepped over to the bedroom door.

  Gretchen panicked. What do I say when he finds the door locked?

  He tried the door handle and the door swung open. He stepped into the bedroom…

  “How did you know to unlock the door?” said Gretchen when the officer was gone.

  “It seemed sensible,” said Inge. “When I heard them banging on all the doors, I thought, what if they come in here and find the door locked from the inside? So I unlocked it.”

  “Clever girl!” Gretchen wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “I was sure he would find you.”

  “I hid under the bed,” said Inge. “I heard him slapping Herr Schuster. Is he hurt?”

  “It was nothing. He’s fine,” said Gretchen. “Thank heavens we got through that.”

  41

  On March 8, Frau Niedermeyer came by with devastating news: The Allies had crossed the Rhine. German forces were fighting to hold them, but the only obstacle standing between the Allies and the city now, was the River Elbe.

  Frau Tannhäuser had another of her weeping sessions. Gretchen and Frau Carlson did their best to reassure her before the undertaker’s wife returned to her apartment, mumbling something about the wrath of God.

  “I’m surprised she hasn’t left the city,” said Gretchen to Frau Carlson.

  “Her husband and son are bravely fighting to defend the city.”

  Gretchen said, “What’s keeping you here?”

  “I have family members who need me, aunts and cousins,” Frau Carlson replied, vaguely. “You are staying because of your husband, yes?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t leave him.”

  Frau Carlson said, “Who was that young girl you were with?”

  “I don’t know who you mean,” said Gretchen.

  “Someone saw you and a young girl crossing the golf course a couple of days ago.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “They were mistaken,” said Gretchen. “Whoever they saw, it wasn’t me.”

  Gretchen swore under her breath. She hadn’t seen Frau Carlson. The nosy bitch must have been hiding somewhere.

  It’s hardly surprising, she thought. Nothing gets past these neighbors.

  Gretchen thought about what she’d said to Frau Carlson. She’d said she couldn’t leave Oskar, and yet that was exactly what she was planning to do three days hence. How would he manage without her? How would a one-legged man and a mindless one survive together in the middle of a battle zone? If only she could persuade Martha to leave with Inge. She said a prayer that Martha would change her mind.

  By midnight the city was under attack from a bombing raid. The anti-aircraft batteries opened fire with thunderous intent. Gretchen took Oskar to the safety of the U-Bahn station.

  Two days later, on the eve of their planned departure, Gretchen’s prayers were answered. Martha Engels turned up at her front door with a suitcase, looking distressed and disheveled. “My house was hit by a bomb,” she said. “I was lucky to get out alive.”

  “You poor thing, come in,” said Gretchen.

  Martha had been doing her laundry when the bomb struck. The house disintegrated, burying her under a huge pile of rubble. It took two days for the civil defense people to dig her out. The number killed in Grunewald was not known – certainly over 30. A small number, considering the number of houses that were hit; so many had left already.

  “And what about you?” said Gretchen. “Will you leave now?”

  Martha looked as sad as Gretchen had ever seen her. “I’m going to have to. I’ve lost almost everything, and I have nowhere to live.”

  Gretchen hugged her. “You arrived just in time, Martha. You can sleep here and then you can join the group leaving from here tomorrow.”

  “How will I find Paul when he’s released?”

  “You will find him, I’m sure. You’re luckier than most. You know he’s alive and well and you know where he is.”

  Martha wiped away a tear. “You’re sure about that?”

  “I’m certain. The best thing you can do for him is to keep yourself safe.”

  Gretchen took Martha to the ground floor to meet Hans, and explained to him what had happened. “Martha will take my place on the dray tomorrow,” she said.

  “You could go as well,” said Hans, looking alarmed. “I’m sure there will be room for one more on the dray.”

  “No, Hans,” she said. “I will stay with my husband.”

  “I thought we agreed Oskar would stay with me.”

  “Yes, but now we have someone else to accompany Inge, I’m not needed. He can stay with me.”

  Hans looked like a cow that had eaten a nettle. “I wish you’d change your mind. You’ll be throwing your life away for nothing.”

  “It’s not for nothing. I made a promise when I married him, and I intend to keep it.”

  Gretchen introduced Martha to Inge. There was ten years between them in age, but Martha was much closer to her own age than anyone Inge had spoken to in years. She was happy to share the bed with her new friend. Gretchen made up a bed for herself with some blankets on the living room floor. She lay in the dark, listening to Oskar’s snores. She would stay with him after all. It was her dearest wish, but she knew they were unlikely to survive. Before the war could end, the city of Berlin would have to be conquered either by the Allies in the west or the Ivans in the east. Either way, the people that remained in the city could expect no mercy. The Nazis had made some serious enemies, all bent on bloody revenge.

  The following morning, Martha spoke to Gretchen in private. “Is there anything I need to know about Inge?” she said.

  Gretchen frowned at her friend
. “Like what?”

  “She’s in hiding, isn’t she? Is she Jewish?”

  “Yes, Martha. What difference does that make?”

  “All the difference in the world,” said Martha. “If she gets caught, we’ll all be in trouble. Shouldn’t she be wearing the yellow star?”

  Gretchen gave her young friend a look that said, don’t be stupid. “If you get stopped you just have to hold your nerve. Inge is your sister. She lost her papers when your house was hit by the bomb.”

  Martha made no reply, but the disgust on her face told Gretchen all she needed to know.

  42

  March 11, 1945

  Departure date had arrived at last. Before first light, Gretchen, Inge and Martha waited in the cold in Hans’s apartment. Inge had a small suitcase, Martha a bigger one.

  Gretchen gave Inge some last-minute instructions. “Martha is your sister. Your name is Inge Engels. If anyone asks to see your papers, you lost them in the bombing.”

  “We don’t look like sisters,” said Inge.

  She has a point. Martha looks Jewish. Inge doesn’t look Jewish at all, thought Gretchen. “Don’t worry about it. You are sisters. Strange sisters maybe, but sisters, nonetheless. Martha will tell you all about your parents and where you were born, the school that you went to, and so on. You must remember every detail in case somebody asks you.”

  “Somebody like the SS?” Inge shuddered.

  “Anybody. You are sure to meet some checkpoints along the way.”

  “Where are we going?” said Martha.

  Hans replied, “Luckenwalde. It’s about sixty kilometers south.”

  Martha nodded. “I know where it is. There’s a labor camp there.”

  Inge looked startled at that.

  ”Don’t worry about it,” said Hans. “There are labor camps everywhere. We would have difficulty finding a town anywhere in Germany that doesn’t have one.”

  First light came, followed by the dawn chorus.

  “Where’s your drayman?” said Gretchen.

  Hans scratched his head. “He should be here by now. Something must have happened to him.”

  As light filled the sky, they gave up. Pitt wasn’t coming. Gretchen, Martha and Inge returned to the apartment on the second floor. Nobody saw them.

  As soon as Gretchen closed the apartment door, Inge threw a tantrum. She stamped her foot and hissed, “What happened? I thought Hans had everything arranged.”

  Martha and Gretchen did their best to calm the young girl, telling her to keep her voice down. Her anger quickly turned to tears.

  “I really thought we were going to get away this time.”

  Martha held her close, stroking her head. “Hush, Inge, don’t upset yourself. We’ll just have to try again.”

  Dora arrived on her bicycle midmorning and Hans told her what had happened.

  “You agreed to pay the drayman?”

  “He was paid handsomely in advance.”

  She swore like a drunken sailor before setting off on her bicycle to find out why Pitt hadn’t kept his appointment.

  The five-kilometer journey took her past the shattered Westend S-Bahn station, through dozens of streets consisting of nothing but piles of rubble, over damaged bridges past splintered Litfass columns and a damaged fire hydrant, spewing water.

  The coal depot at Siemensstrasse was deserted, its doors swinging open. There was no sign of a horse or a dray anywhere. Dora’s nose led her to an empty stable, stinking of horse piss and manure. She tried the office and the adjoining house. Both buildings had been looted.

  She cycled back to Hans’s apartment and told him what she’d discovered.

  “Sounds like he’s been conscripted. His horse will have been taken for food,” said Hans.

  “So what do we do now?” she said.

  Hans scratched his chin for a few moments. Then he said, “I have an idea. I’ll need a few days to work it out.”

  Dora ran upstairs to Gretchen’s Apartment and told her and Martha what she’d discovered. Then the three women returned to Hans’s apartment.

  Gretchen checked outside the apartment carefully and closed the door before joining the others at the table.

  Dora said, “I don’t suppose the SS are too worried about Jewish fugitives at this point. Inge could probably come out of hiding.”

  “You could join the flow of refugees heading out of the city,” Gretchen said to Martha.

  Dora agreed. “What could be more natural than two sisters travelling together?”

  “That’s not a good idea,” said Hans. “Give me a few days to come up with a better plan.”

  Gretchen snapped at him, “We don’t have a few days. We’ve waited far too long as it is.”

  Martha squirmed in her seat. “I’m leaving. I won’t stay another day in this accursed city.”

  Gretchen marveled at her friend’s change of heart. Just a few days ago she’d sworn she’d never leave Berlin until her fiancé came home.

  “What about Inge?” said Gretchen.

  “I’ll take her with me if she can be persuaded to come,” Martha replied.

  “Leave that to me,” said Dora.

  After some more discussion they decided the escape should start the following Sunday. Gretchen had observed that the volumes of refugees was at its highest on Sundays.

  “It’s a bad idea,” said Hans, quietly. “You’ll never make it.”

  The women returned to Gretchen’s apartment with Hans’s warning ringing in their ears. Dora and Martha went to work to persuade Inge that this was the best course of action.

  43

  On Wednesday March 15, the Allies launched a daylight bombing raid on the city. Everyone took shelter in the U-Bahn stations and air raid shelters. That raid was followed by a second one after dark.

  Powerful searchlights lit up the sky, picking out the RAF Mosquitos.

  The same happened on the following day and night and again on the day and night after that.

  “They mean to disrupt our sleep,” said Gretchen.

  “I think they’ve succeeded,” said Inge.

  No one had had much sleep for three nights. Apart from Oskar, who’d snored through it all, to the annoyance of the rest of them.

  On March 17, the day before they had planned to join the vast flow of refugees heading west, Dora arrived on her bicycle with an overcoat for Inge.

  Inge’s nose wrinkled at the sight of the garment.

  Dora held the coat up for her to try it on. “You’ll need it when it gets cold at night.”

  “Where did you get it?” said Inge. “It smells odd.”

  Gretchen fingered the fabric. “It’s pure wool. Put it on.” She exchanged a quick glance with Dora.

  Inge remained seated. She crossed her arms.

  Dora said, “You won’t want to take Gretchen’s coat.”

  “Gretchen can take this one,” said Inge.

  “It’s too small for Gretchen. Put it on.” Dora had an edge to her voice.

  Inge got to her feet and slipped the coat on. “It’s too big,” she said. It reached her ankles and was too big in the shoulders and chest.

  “It’s a better fit than mine,” said Gretchen. “Take it off. I’ll shorten it for you.”

  Inge took it off. As she did so, her fingers caught a hole in the chest. She shrieked. “That’s a bullet hole! Where did you get it?”

  Dora said, “There’s a war on, girl. Be grateful for what you’re given and don’t ask awkward questions.”

  At first light the next day, Hans gave them his map with the route clearly marked on it. Inge put on the overcoat and they stepped out to join the refugees. There was nothing but a few stragglers on the main road west.

  “Where are they all?” said Martha.

  “Perhaps they’re catching up on their sleep,” said Hans. “Either that or they’re expecting more bombs. We’ll wait a few hours.”

  By midmorning, they had their answer, as hundreds of US bombers filled the wester
n skies and the bombs began to rain down again. They took shelter.

  The all-clear was sounded at 2:30 p.m. and everyone emerged into the sunlight. Fires burned all over the city, but Kaiser Wilhelm block 2 was still standing.

  “We have to go,” said Martha. “We have to get out of the city before they kill us all.”

  They fetched their suitcases from Hans’s apartment. They each gave Gretchen and Hans a last hug. Then they set off on foot, mingling with the thin crowd of refugees heading west.

  44

  They walked for an hour in a chill wind. With each step, the temperature dropped, until it was close to freezing. They carried on walking, and the crowd swelled. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Inge’s pace slowed, and Martha shortened her stride to match. The temperature dropped some more. They passed the Olympic Stadium. Some of the refugees stopped and lit a fire. Darkness fell and Martha and Inge continued walking. Martha calculated that they had walked about three kilometers. At that rate it would take at least 56 hours to reach Luckenwalde. She doubted that Inge would survive 56 more hours in the cold even if there were no more bombing raids.

  And then they heard the drone of distant aircraft. The sirens started. Martha looked around for shelter, but there wasn’t any.

  “Come on,” said Inge, grabbing her hand.

  They ran back the way they’d come, along with a crowd of others who had the same idea. When they arrived at the Olympic Stadium, Inge led Martha over a chain link fence that had been flattened by the stampede. “In here,” she said, ducking under the protection of the superstructure.

  They weren’t alone. Hundreds of refugees were huddled around the vast stadium, seeking shelter from the bombs and from the icy wind.

  The bombing started behind them, over the city. Wave after wave of planes passed overhead. The bombs came closer. Then one of the planes dropped from the sky and roared toward them. The anti-aircraft gun mounted at the corner of the stadium opened fire, but the plane kept coming, firing its machineguns into the crowds.