by F. M. Worden
“Buttons,” he said. “All kinds of buttons, metal, bone - like the ones on your shirt and coat. We make all the buttons the Army, SA and SS wear on their uniforms.”
“You have to sell your factory?” I asked.
“No, I don’t have to, but I think it’s wise that I do.”
“Do you have a buyer?”
“Yes, I’m selling to my old sergeant I had in the Army.”
“You were in the German Army?” That surprised me for him to be a veteran of the first war.
“Yes, I was in six long years, from 1913 to 1918. I was an officer in the artillery on the Western Front.”
I just couldn’t understand what he was telling me about the conditions in Germany. As we talked, I surmised he loved the Fatherland. This thing he told about Jews didn’t make any sense to me.
As the train pulled into the station at Munich, darkness was falling. I asked my friend if he knew where I could get a hotel. “The Dressen Hotel is two blocks east of the station.” I thanked him for being such a good traveling companion and hoped his plans would work out to his satisfaction. He shook my hand and said he would pray for me to have a healthy and safe time while I was here in Germany. He told me his name was Max Steiner. We parted company on the platform.
I went into the station to check on my trunk. I was told it would be in the baggage room until I came for it. I carried my suitcase and proceeded to the hotel. There I saw the room clerk and rented a room. He asked many questions about America. He said there hadn’t seen many Americans for some time. He gave me a key. I asked if the dining room was open. He told me it would be serving until nine p.m. I took the elevator to the third floor to my room. I washed my face and hands and returned to the dining room for supper.
In it I found a very nice room with many tables covered with the most beautiful white laced table cloths, I sat at a table. There were twenty or so people having dinner. A young man came and gave me a menu and a glass of water. In a few minutes he returned and I ordered my dinner. I sat back to observe the room and the people. There were six uniformed men and their ladies eating and laughing. All the rest were very well dressed men and women civilians, busy talking and eating.
The desk clerk came thru the big double doors with a very attractive middle-aged lady and pointed me out to her. She immediately approached my table, I stood to welcome her. She asked, “Are you an American?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
She asked, “May I sit and talk with you?” She spoke perfect English.
“I would be happy to talk to anyone at this time,” I said laughingly. “I hate eating alone.”
She sat down and asked if I had ordered my dinner. “Yes ma’am, I ordered the roast beef.”
“You will enjoy that, we have the best chef in Germany, he makes the most delicious roast beef you will ever taste.” Then she started telling about the Americans she had met before. “I have a delightful American friend you will simply have to meet. She is a real treasure and she is my best friend. She lives here in Munich. Would you like to meet her?”
“Yes ma’am, it would be a pleasure to meet someone from home.”
“She has had a bad time lately. She has just divorced her husband and needs cheering up. Would you help me do that?”
“Yes ma’am, I’ll try to help her if I can.”
“Let me introduce myself. My name is Frau Dressen. My husband and I own this hotel. Have you come to Munich as a visitor or a student?”
I told her I was pleased to meet her and I would very much like to meet her friend. I had come to Germany to study architecture at the University. She said that Germany had the finest schools in the world. She asked the waiter to bring two glasses of white wine. As I ate my meal, she started telling me about Munich; Oktoberfest was in full swing. “We have many exciting things to do during this time of year.” I told her I had to find a room to rent as I couldn’t afford to stay in her fine hotel. “I’ll have a bell boy find a room for you, there’s many to be had in Munich.”
I finished my meal and thanked her for her kindness. She walked me to the elevator, wished me good night and said she would look forward to seeing me in the morning. “Call my room when you are ready to find a permanent room.”
In my room, I undressed and took a hot bath. This was the finest hotel I had ever been in. It had everything, the best bed I had ever slept in. The radio that played nothing but sleepy time music. I turned in and had the best night’s sleep I had since leaving France. I dreamed I was back in Paris with Lilly and her mother. When I woke up it all seemed so real, I had to look to make sure I wasn’t in Paris. I sure missed Lilly and her mother; I hoped they could find happiness in America.
I dressed and hurried down to the dining room to have breakfast. The dining room was filled with uniformed officers and their ladies. These were handsome and very good looking men and women. They impressed me with their well tailored uniforms and the ladies in their beautiful dresses. There were children in various age groups scattered throughout the room. I found an empty table next to the back wall. Very soon, a white coated young man came and left me a menu; I ordered eggs, sausage and coffee.
After eating, I went to the front desk and asked for Frau Dressen’s telephone number. Reluctantly, the desk clerk gave me her number. I called to tell her I was in the lobby. She came down to meet me in the next few minutes. “Have you had breakfast?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I need to find a room as soon as I can.”
She took my arm, led me to the bellhop’s station and introduced me to a young boy whose name was Franz. He looked the part of a bellboy with a red bell cap, red coat, blue pants and a friendly smile; he looked to be an older teenager. Mrs. Dressen asked him if he knew where I could find a room in this neighborhood. He said he did and the lady told him to take me there. Before we left, she asked me to come back to the hotel at seven p.m. to meet her American friend. I promised I would. She called after us that I would be having dinner with her and her friend.
As we walked down the street, we encountered many uniformed soldiers. I asked Franz why so many were in town. He said Oktoberfest was a big celebration for the German people and most soldiers got leave to come to town. Most of the soldiers had a pretty girl with them. They all seemed to be having a good time as they were laughing and acting foolish as most young people do when they’re out on a date. We turned south for several blocks, and turned down a narrow street with small shops on each side. The sidewalks where curiously empty of people, I asked Franz why this was.
He almost whispered, “This is a Jewish section of town. I hope,” he said, “You don’t object living with Jews?”
“Why should I?”
“Some people here don’t care for them. There’s a move on in this country to rid Germany of the Jews, I myself like them; I have many friends who are Jews. In fact, I have some of their blood in me. My grandfather was Jewish.”
I told him I had heard of this movement and I didn’t understand it at all. He stopped and said that the bakery shop ahead was where there was a room for rent. He said goodbye, turned and hurried back up the street the way we had come.
I walked on and entered the bakery shop. A very attractive young lady behind the counter asked if she could help me. “I understand I might find a room for rent here, I need a place to hang my hat,” I said with a big smile.
She frowned at me and obviously didn’t care for my manners. She said in a very sober voice, “I’ll call my grandfather, he owns this building.” I want to tell you the smell of fresh baking bread was wonderful. I would like living here, I said to myself.
An elderly gentleman came back following the girl. A very pleasant looking man with a full gray beard and twinkling eyes, he reminded me of Santa Claws. He said very curtly, “Can I help you young man?”
“Yes, sir, I’m looking for a room to rent. I understand you have one.”
“Yes we do, just above this store, come I will show you.” We went outside and up the
stairs beside the building, thru a door at the top. It opened into a hallway with four doors; we entered the first one on the right hand side. It took us into a one room flat; there was a bed, a night stand, a chest of draws and a bureau. There was also a table with two wooden chairs, a rocker and a counter with a hot plate. It was a furnished flat with bedding, towels, a few miscellaneous cooking utensils and a few dishes. The bathroom was a community one at the end of the hall.
The old man said he would furnish a pitcher and pan for water. For the price, I could not afford not to rent the room. It had two windows, one looked down on the stairs, and the other overlooked the street below.
We returned to the shop and I paid a month’s rent. He introduced himself. His name was Karl Golden, his Granddaughter was Jennifer Golden. They both became much warmer toward me and made me feel welcome. I told them I had a trunk at the railroad station I had to go get. He loaned me a cart to carry it back to my room. I took the cart and hurried to the station and retrieved my trunk.
Back at the bakery, Herr Golden had a middle aged man help me carry the trunk to my room. He struck up a conversation right away. He asked, “Do you know you’re in a Jewish neighborhood?”
“Yes, is there any reason I should not be here?”
“Things are getting tough for Jews in Munich. Did you notice all Jews wear the Star of David on their clothes?”
“Yes I saw that. What’s the reason?”
He didn’t reply to my question, but he did continue saying, “My advice to you is be careful where you go and who you go with.” That seemed a strange thing to say. He went on saying, “This is my last day to work at the Golden bakery, I’ve been told to quit or else. You see I’m an Aryan and a new law has passed that I can’t work for a Jew anymore.”
“Whoa,” I said, “That’s one hell of a bad law.”
He agreed with me and said, “I’ve worked for Herr Golden every since I came home from the army. He’s treated me like a son.” With tears in his eyes he said, “I love that old man and his family, but there’s nothing I can do.” He started to leave and I asked his name. “Alfred Ruche.”
I checked my watch and it said it was noon. My stomach agreed. I went down to the bakery shop and inquired of Jennifer where I could get a meal. She came from behind the counter, stepped outside and pointed to a restaurant on the next corner. This was a very attractive young girl, I asked her age. “I’m eighteen and will be nineteen next month. How old are you?” she asked.
“I just turned twenty,” I said with a smile.
“You’re not a German. Who are you and why have you come to Munich?” She seemed concerned.
“I’m an American and I have come to study architecture in the Munich University,” I said proudly.
Without hesitation she said, “You have come to Germany at a bad time.”
I told her I had heard that before. I thanked her and walked down to the restaurant. At the restaurant, a large word in white was painted on the glass window. “JUDE” it read. I entered and sat at a table near the door. There were ten people eating and talking. A comely middle aged woman came and took my order of a brunswager sandwich, a kosher pickle and a glass of beer. All the people there had the Star of David on their clothes. After finishing my meal, I wished everyone there a good day. None of the people even looked up at me.
When I got back to the bakery, I went in and talked to Jennifer. I told her the people at the restaurant were very cool to me. She whispered, “They probably thought you were an SS spy.”
“Holy Cow,” I said. “Could that be true?”
“Yes, we have spies here all the time. You haven’t told me your name.”
“Frank,” I said. “I must go up and take a nap. I have a dinner date at seven at the Dressen Hotel.”
“With a young lady, I bet.” Jennifer smiled and asked, “Is she pretty?”
“No, not with a girl, with Frau Dressen and an American lady by the name of Hellene Hanfstaengl. Frau Dressen said I would like this woman Hellene.”
“Oh my!” she said, “You’re moving in fast company. The Dressens and Hanfastaengls are big friends of the German Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler.” That was the first time I had heard that. It scared the dickens out of me. Jennifer continued, “You must be very careful what you say to those people. You might get in serious trouble if you say anything against the Nazis. Be careful, Frank, what you say tonight.”
I thanked her and told her, “I will be careful just for you.”
“Be serious, I mean what I say.” She had a customer so we talked no more and I went on up to my room to take a nap.
Chapter 5
Jennifer – Hitler – Helen
When I woke up from my afternoon nap, my watch said almost five p.m. I went down to the bathroom and took a hot shower. Back in my room, I dressed in my new blue suit, white shirt and new black shoes. I had used a man’s deodorant I had purchased in Paris; I did smell pretty darn good. With my hair slicked down, I thought I looked the fashion plate of American men. Uncle Bob would have been proud {I hoped}.
Downstairs, I stopped to look in the bakery window. There were many customers in the shop, but Jennifer noticed me, waved and smiled. I waved back and on impulse I threw her a kiss. Hot dog, she threw one back.
It took about twenty minutes to reach the hotel. I had passed and watched many young German soldiers in their sharp grey uniforms with their girlfriends on the streets. All were joking, laughing and seemingly having a good time.
At the hotel, I entered the lobby, went straight to the front desk and asked the clerk to notify Mrs. Dreesen I was in the lobby. He said he would and I should sit down and wait for her. I found an easy chair that faced the elevators and sat watching for her to come down. I had just sat down, when a very stern looking individual in a long black coat sat next to me. He asked if I was an American. Of course, I told him proudly that I was. I thought he must be a lawyer as he asked many questions. I must have answered them correctly as he got up and left as soon as Mrs. Dreesen came to me from the elevator.
She was a very attractive middle aged woman. She was wearing a long evening gown in a silver color with much jewelry. Her shiny black hair was done up in a bun. In all, a very desirable looking woman. As she drew close, she smelled as if she had just stepped out of a French perfume bottle.
The first thing she said was, “Do all young American men look as good as you?”
I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I guess they do.” I gave a laugh. She said she had picked a bad time for me to meet her friend Hellene. She took my hand and led me to some chairs off to the side of the room. I asked who the man was I had been talking with. She said he was with the Gestapo. “It’s the secret service of Germany. What kind of questions did he ask?”
I told her he mostly wanted to know why I was in Germany.
“Yes,” she said, “That’s what they would want to know.” She invited me to sit down as she wanted to talk. All of a sudden, almost as if by magic, the room began to fill with German officers in all kinds of uniforms. Almost all of them had good looking women on their arms.
Mrs. Dreesen said, “You won’t believe this, but the Fuhrer is coming to have dinner here tonight. You do know who he is?”
“Only that he’s the head man of Germany.” What else could I say, that’s all I knew.
Just then all the people jumped up and started yelling “Heil Hitler” all over the place. They all had their right hand extended right out to their front in some kind of salute {I surmised}. Soon, a rather small looking man in a long black leather coat came into the lobby. This must be him. I had never seen a picture of Adolf Hitler before; at least I couldn’t remember having seen one. This man had a brown cap on and I could see brown pants showing below the coat. He had a large entourage of uniformed men following him.
Mrs. Dreesen and I had stood up and she was doing this salute also and calling Heil Hitler. I just stood there dumbfounded at the whole thing.
He saw her and started to move
in our direction. I heard Mrs. Dreesen say under her breath, “Good God, he’s coming over to us.” Wow, this little guy is the big man and I’m going to meet him. I sized him up to myself. Not a very big man in stature looks to be a head shorter than I. He had a two finger mustache under his nose. Large bags under the eyes and a kind of shuffling walk.
He proceeded right to Mrs. Dreesen with his hand out to shake hers. Right away, she said, “How delightful it is to have Mien Fuhrer in our humble hotel.” I thought she was laying it on a little heavy but what did I know. He was all smiles.
He said, “I always love to be in your beautiful hotel. Who is this fine looking young man?” He nodded to me.
She told him, “This is my American friend, Frank.”
He put his hand out for me to shake. I took his hand and shook it; it felt like a limp rag. He then asked, “Are you a visitor to our new Germany?”
I replied, “No, I have come to study Architecture in the university here in Munich.”
“How wonderful,” he said. “You will be studying in the finest university in the world. Did you know that was my best subject?”
I lied and said, “I heard it was.”
He had a lady on his right arm. He introduced her as his friend Mrs. Helene Hanfstaengl. “She’s an American country-woman of yours. We’re always glad to have Americans come and see our new Germany. I insist you two must dine with me tonight.” This Helene looked at me and shook her head yes.
Mrs. Dreesen said, “We would be honored to dine with you, Mien Fuhrer.”
“Fine,” he said. “Go in and sit by my table.” We went right in and sat down at a table near the main table. All the tables had beautiful white lace table cloths.
I asked Mrs. Dreesen who the men with Hitler are. “The small mousy one is Joseph Goebbels, the head of state propaganda. The fat one in the white uniform is Herman Goering, the head man of the German air force, the Luftwaffe. The one with the dark black hair is Rudolf Hess and the tall one is Heinrich Himmler, the head of the SS. All these are very powerful men in Germany. How lucky you are to meet them tonight.”
