“Yes, Aunt Sally.”
Sally ignored his fed-up expression.
Tom and Ruth Bernstein had once been very close due in part to the Kindertransport and also to the fact Sally’s closest friend Maggie had taken Ruth and her sister Rachel into her home. As the children got older, Tom had veered towards the boys. Ruth had some English friends but Maggie said she missed Tom.
“Aunt Sally, they say Mr. Churchill will speak at 3 pm. We won’t be able to see him but we can hear him, as they will have loudspeakers outside. Just think, he will be a few feet away from us yet people all over the world will be listening to him. Won’t they?”
“Yes, Tom.”
“After, we could wander through St James’ Park and round by Trafalgar Square to the Health Ministry. They say Mr. Churchill is going to speak again at five – he must have a lot to say.” Tom squinted his eyes at the thought, making Sally exchange an amused glance with Susan.
“What about my visit to the Royal Family, Tom?” Sally couldn’t resist teasing the youngster. She loved him almost as much as Liesl although she’d never admit to having a favorite. Both had been with her since the day they arrived at Liverpool Street station. She could still see Tom’s tear-stained face as he told her, via an interpreter, that the Germans had stolen his teddy. Her heart raged at the memory even after all these years and despite the countless atrocities reported in the paper, she simply couldn’t understand how any man could have torn a teddy-bear from a child.
“Aww, do you have to go and see them? You could see them any day.”
“But Tom, you said yourself this is a special day and me being English, I have to see my King and Queen.”
As his face fell, she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I’m teasing you, sweetheart. I would love to see them, of course, but it might not be possible. The whole country will be looking to be near them. Our brave Royal Family who stayed by our side through thick and thin. No running away for them.”
Tom rolled his eyes, having heard more than once about the virtues of Dear Queen Elizabeth who refused to take the princesses to live in safety, in Canada. Instead, she had insisted on staying by her husband’s side and facing whatever the Germans wished to throw at them.
The train arrived at Waterloo and everywhere you looked were people dressed in all sorts of gay colors. Women wore flowery dresses with garlands of red, white and blue around their necks, or in their hair. Even the men had buttonholes. She gave Tom a couple of coins to buy some flags and was touched when he came back with a hair ornament for Liesl and a matching one for Sally.
“You aren’t going to wear it, are you?” Enid said, her face all pinched into a sour expression.
“Of course, I am. Why would I disappoint the child? Anyway, it’s a special day and we are going to have some fun. Come on Enid, the war is over. Loosen up and live a little bit, will you?”
“I want one too,” Susan said before Enid could argue. “Lead the way, Sally. Let’s make this a day to remember. Children if you get lost, ask a policeman to direct you to the main gate at the Houses of Parliament. We will find you there.”
“Buy one for Maggie too. She’d like a reminder of the occasion, since she couldn’t make it.”
“Yes Mrs. Fletcher, Yes Ma,” the children chorused and then they were off, surrounded by people smiling and clapping. Sally knew everyone was happy the war, at least in Europe, was finally over. But what would the next few weeks, months, and years bring? She gripped Liesl’s hand tighter, telling herself she didn’t want the child getting lost in the crowd but the reality was, she never wanted to let her go. Of course, she hoped Trudi, her mother, had survived the war but she really didn’t want her to claim her daughter. Sally loved Liesl like her own and had done since that first day she’d picked up the eighteen-month-old in her arms and cuddled her close. She’d promised Harry she’d protect the child with her life and love her like her own. And it was a promise she still intended to keep.
1
Berlin, November 1938
Heinz Beck walked to the train stop, eyes and ears on full alert, just in case they were waiting for him. The attacks were increasing. What had once been an occasional beating, or stones being thrown, had turned into an almost weekly event. He wasn’t about to show his fear. His heart raced painfully, his stomach clenching, not just from hunger. A combination of fear and frustration that he couldn’t fight back. Not as he’d like to, anyway. If he inflicted any injuries on a Gentile, his family would be made to pay the price. The hair on the back of his neck rose. Was he being followed? He turned quickly, almost hitting his younger brother.
“Tomas, what are you doing here, you should be at home.”
Tomas blanched at his brother’s tone. “I want to go to school with you. Papa says I’m smart. I’m too old to stay home with Liesl and her.”
Heinz took his brother’s hand and considered what he should do. He couldn’t blame the child for not wanting to stay home with their stepmother. He did everything to stay away from the house too. But, if he turned up at school with his soon to be five-year-old brother, the master might not be happy. As it was the school was overcrowded. Now that all the Jewish children had to go to the same school, there was very little space for extras.
“Please Heinz. Brown-Bear will be as quiet as a mouse, I promise.”
Who could resist a request like that? Sighing loudly, Heinz took his brother’s hand and led him to the elevated train station. They lived about thirty minutes away from his new school. He chatted to Tomas, in an effort to hide his discomfort. What if the Hitler Youth got on the train or worse the SA? Those men, in their brown uniforms, took delight in tormenting Jewish men, women, and children. Usually, Heinz escaped their attention, as he didn’t resemble pictures of a typical Jewish male. Although he had dark hair, his eyes were blue, not brown. Still, a quick glance at his papers and the red J for Juden would surely get him into trouble.
He smiled acknowledgment at Rachel Bernstein, one of their neighbors who was also waiting for the train. His heart beat faster and he could feel his cheeks flushing. Always the same reaction, which was silly as she was just a friend. She was in love with Joshua Stern. Now, Stern, he looked like a poster boy for the Jewish congregation. Heinz had lost count of the number of times Stern had been picked on at their last school. Teachers and pupils alike.
“Morning Tomas, are you coming to school too?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, and I’m so excited. I can’t wait to show the teacher how good I am at math. Papa’s been helping me and I can count all the way to a hundred. Want to see?”
Heinz groaned, as Rachel nodded her head. In his element, Tomas proudly recited the numbers. He then showed off his English abilities – their stepmother had taught them a couple of words. Heinz’s mouth curled. Trudi was insistent they had to leave Germany. She had been trying to get Papa to agree to send them to England ever since the Nazis marched into Austria. Or maybe even before then. She just wanted to get rid of him and Tomas, so she could have Papa all to herself.
“What’s wrong with you? Bad breakfast?” Rachel asked. It took a couple of seconds for him to realize she was talking to him.
“What? Oh, nothing. I was just thinking.”
“Do the world a favor and don’t. The expression on your face would turn milk sour.”
He didn’t smile, even though he knew she was teasing. Trudi was winning, he knew she was wearing Papa down. Only last night, he’d said he would consider it but only if the three children left together. That had put a stop to Trudi’s plans. She wouldn’t let her darling Liesl go to live with strangers in another country. Who wanted to live in Britain anyway?
“Have your parents been talking about the Kindertransport again?” Rachel whispered, having looked around her first to check nobody could hear her.
Heinz nodded.
“Mine too. They say it’s the only way we can leave but I want us to go together. So does Mama. She says we still have a chance with the Americans.
Papa’s brother emigrated there when the Nazis first came to power. He can sponsor us. He’s rich.”
Heinz thought Rachel was rich. Certainly, the Bernsteins had more money than their family did. Papa and Mother used to live in a large apartment and he remembered having servants. But that changed when Mother died and Papa wasn’t allowed to work anymore. The current regime had no time for Jewish doctors.
“Are you far down on the list?” he asked and immediately regretted it, as her face fell. She nodded but didn’t elaborate. Everyone, even the children, knew where they stood on the emigration list. Every day conversations spun around theories of how fast the Americans would work through the quotas, what tricks could be used to improve your chances, the stories of how so-and-so had got out, etc. It made him wonder what everyone had talked about in the days before Hitler. He caught the fear in Rachel’s eyes. He tried to reassure her.
“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. They said some South American countries will allow us to go and live there.”
“Heinz, Papa was talking to your father. He wants us to go on the same Kindertransport. He says you could look after us.”
Heinz sat straighter. Mr. Bernstein had really said that. Her next words made his chest fall.
“I told him off straight away. I don’t need looking after and certainly not by you. You are never out of trouble. If anyone, Papa should have asked Joshua.” At the mention of his name, Rachel's eyes took on a funny expression. It made Heinz’s stomach crunch. He wasn’t going to put up with being adversely compared to Joshua.
“I can protect you better than he can. The Nazis know he’s a Jew just by looking at him. Sitting with him would put you in danger, not protect you. “
He immediately knew he had said the wrong thing.
“Sitting on a Kindertransport train would tell them I was Jewish, regardless of who I sit beside. At least Joshua wouldn’t start a fight. He only tries to protect himself. You, Heinz Beck would find someone to fight with, even if you were on your own, inside a paper bag.”
With that, Rachel moved seats, going to sit nearer a group of girls. Ruth, her sister, whom Heinz hadn’t even noticed, gave him a reproachful look before going to join her sister. Tomas just stared at him but remained silent.
Heinz stared out of the window, his palms in fists. It wasn’t his fault trouble seemed to find him. He couldn’t stay quiet and watch as old people were beaten up or made to scrub the street. He had to intervene when younger kids were being picked on. But you don’t have to make your feelings against the regime so clear, do you? Rachel’s right. He was always angry and he knew whose fault it was. Not the Nazis, although they were bad enough. It was hers. His stepmother’s. She had stolen his mother’s husband, her home, and now she wanted to send them away so she could have Papa all to herself. But he would never consider that woman his mother. Never.
That day passed without incident. The master accepted Tomas’ presence and his brother had a great day. Ruth Bernstein had introduced him to some of her friends and the whole way home, the two of them had chatted non-stop. Rachel had even smiled at him when she caught him looking at the younger children. Maybe life wasn’t too bad after all. Trudi said you should always look for silver linings. He missed his old school and some of his Gentile friends but having to attend school with Rachel was definitely a silver lining, if ever there was one. Once she got to know him better, she would see he was perfect for her. Then she’d forget all about Joshua Stern.
2
Heinz was sitting at the table trying to finish his English homework. It wasn’t only Trudi who believed the children needed to learn English. One of the teachers at school, Mr. Epstein, had attended Oxford and he was fluent in English. He had spoken to the older children and told them they must learn to speak English to help their families if they emigrated to America or Britain.
When Heinz queried was it really necessary, the man had become quite animated. Instead of telling Heinz and the others who questioned the necessity, he asked the children to provide proof the need didn’t exist. He pointed to the examples of the queues of Jews outside the American and British Embassies waiting for papers to leave Germany. How would these families survive in another country without knowing how to communicate?
But it was his comments about how those who knew English would thrive and be able to come back at a later time to fight Hitler and his minions and return the Jews to their former positions that convinced Heinz. He liked that idea. Papa could be a doctor once more. He hated seeing Papa sneaking out to help people, at the risk of getting caught.
Something broke his concentration, a series of shrill whistles, followed by earsplitting screams.
“Papa, what’s that noise?” Tomas asked, hugging his brown bear to his chest.
Heinz was already at the window staring out at the street below. He couldn’t see anything but the noise was deafening. He heard loud banging and the sound of glass shattering over and over again. Then he saw smoke.
“Papa, the synagogue’s on fire.”
“I have to go and help. Heinz stay here and mind your brother and sister and your mama.”
Heinz opened his mouth but at a look from his father, he shut it again.
Trudi protested, “Please don’t go out, stay here where it’s safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I can’t stay here, hiding like a coward. Those are my friends down there. People will be hurt, need my help. I have to go.”
Heinz watched as she begged his father not to go but his father’s mind was made up. She should know that, just by looking at his face.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, Heinz. You stay here. Promise me to look after everyone until I get back.”
His father’s tone told him argument was futile.
“Yes, Papa.”
He returned to the window, not wanting to watch as Tomas flung himself at their father, begging him to stay with them. He heard her bolt the front door after he’d gone. Tomas came closer to the window, sliding his hand into Heinz’s.
“What do they want Heinz? Are they going to kill us?”
He didn’t get a chance to answer, as she intervened.
“No, silly. Who’d want to kill you; everyone loves you. Come away from the window, boys. Both of you.”
Heinz stared at her, not moving.
“Heinz, I asked you to move.”
Still, he stared and would have continued to do so, only, at that moment the window shattered. A rock barely missed his head.
“Come away from the window and shut off the lights. Now!”
At her shout, he moved. He gathered Tomas in his arms and carried him to the bedroom, following Trudi. Heinz pushed Tomas’ bed as far away from the window as possible. Together they tucked the younger boy into bed, piling extra rugs on top of him to protect him from any flying glass. The bedroom was off the main street, so perhaps he would be safe.
Tomas cuddled Brown-Bear; his eyes large in his face.
“Heinz, I’m scared.”
Trudi answered. “We all are, pet. I’ll tell you a story after I just check the other windows.”
“I’ll check them. You read the story.” Heinz took back control. He was almost fifteen-years-old and not a child anymore. Papa had left him in charge. He went through their apartment closing the curtains and turning off all the lights. Only when it was dark did he poke his head around the curtain to glance out the window and immediately wished he hadn’t. Sturmabteilung!
The Sturmabteilung (SA) had invaded their street. It seemed like every SA man in the country was standing outside. In the apartment opposite, he watched as an SA man flung open the windows and turfed various pieces of furniture over the edge. He saw Mr. Geller, a wonderful old man, a veteran of the First World War, stand up in protest, only to be knocked to the ground. Then they started kicking the prone figure. Tears in his eyes, Heinz closed the curtains wishing he hadn’t promised his father to stay put. He wanted to go to Mr. Geller�
��s place and help him. But it was too late.
There was a knock on the door. He jumped, despite his bravado. Heart hammering, he moved closer but didn’t answer it. Was it the Gestapo? They wouldn’t knock silly; they’d just break the door down.
The knock came again. “Please Heinz, Tomas, open the door.”
Rachel? What was she doing out on a night like this? He quickly unlocked the door. Rachel and her sister almost fell into the hall, quickly followed by their mother. Mrs. Bernstein looked like she had fallen out of bed, her hair was all messed up and red streaks marked her cheeks.
“Is your father here?”
“No Mrs. Bernstein, he left to help at the synagogue.” As the woman looked around her, a wild expression in her eyes, he realized the door should be shut.
“Come inside, please. We should lock the door.” He took her hand to pull her inside, as she seemed incapable of listening.
Her voice trembled as she glanced behind her. “But what if they come here? They will kill us all.”
“Mama, please get a hold of yourself, you are scaring Ruth. They aren’t going to kill anyone. They are just bullying us, trying to scare us like they always have. You are letting them win.”
Heinz watched in awe as the strict Mrs. Bernstein looked at her daughter. He thought she might slap Rachel but instead, she pulled her into a hug.
“You are right, my darling. I’m so sorry. But when your papa and your brothers didn’t come back after the Gestapo came, I thought… Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
“Mrs. Bernstein, I thought I recognized the voice. Please, come in. You are shivering. Here, put this on.” Trudi went to the coat stand and took down her fur coat. “Would you like some coffee?”
Heinz’s lip curled. Even now, Trudi was trying to use the situation to her advantage by getting into Mrs. Bernstein’s good books. At a look from Rachel, he felt ashamed. It was almost as if she could read his mind.
The Road to Liberation: Trials and Triumphs of WWII Page 89
