You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Book 2)

by Roberta Kagan

  “I think a girl would be nice, a girl who looks like you,” Manfred said, and he squeezed Christa’s hand. She squeezed back and smiled at him.

  It was warm for a day in early May, and the flowers had just begun to bud outside the Steinhöring home. The four-story country castle had been newly painted sugar-white, with canary yellow trim, the previous summer. Gorgeous green leaves had burst from the trees in celebration of the end of the long German winter, and emerald grass covered the lush rolling hills.

  “Such a quaint and lovely place,” Christa said as the driver pulled up to the front of the Lebensborn home.

  Manfred held Christa’s hand as they walked in.

  Women were everywhere, in all stages of pregnancy, all of them blonde, all of them blue-eyed, most of them tall, with athletic builds. They were so similar that they seemed like living dolls, something created, instead of real people. As Manfred and Christa walked by, the girls offered white-toothed smiles.

  Then there were the others, nurses and helpers. These women, some blond, but many brunette, some young, but some also older and well past childbearing age, were the work force. These, too, were Aryan women. Their bloodlines had been checked, but their looks did not reflect the qualities needed for breeding. So these women were responsible for the well-being of the superior blonde, blue-eyed, perfect specimens of Aryan womanhood.

  A large mahogany desk with intricate carvings of Teutonic knights was centered a few feet from the door. Behind it sat a woman in her early forties. Her blonde hair was combed neatly into finger waves around her face. She had deep-set blue eyes and features so strong that they almost appeared masculine.

  “May I help you?” the receptionist asked.

  “Yes, my boss, Dr. Goebbels, arranged for us to see someone here about adoption,” Manfred said.

  “Of course, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Blau.” She smiled, her teeth slightly sharp. “Please make yourselves comfortable.” She stood up and walked them over to the living room area where she motioned for them to sit at on a plush white sofa. “May I offer you a coffee or a cold drink?”

  “No, thank you, nothing for me,” Christa said.

  “No, thank you,” Manfred answered.

  “Wait here. I’ll be right back,” the woman said. Then she turned, her high heels clicking on the marble floor.

  They sat together on the sofa and waited. Manfred held Christa’s hand; it was wet with perspiration. He knew how nervous she was, and he wanted this to go smoothly for her sake.

  It was only a matter of a few minutes before an elderly woman, heavy set, with a salt and pepper bun, limped into the room. Her hair frizzed around her face and Manfred could not help noticing the three black hairs that sprung from a mole on the side of her cheek.

  “Welcome, Sturmann and Mrs. Blau. I have heard so many nice things about you. My name is Beatrix, and I will be here to help you with anything that you might be of need for.”

  “Thank you, Beatrix, but it is now Rottenführer Blau.”

  “Oh, congratulations. You should be so proud,” she said a little too loudly.

  “Thank you,” Manfred said, and looked away, his face burning with embarrassment.

  “Have you decided whether you would like a boy or girl?”

  “Actually we have. We would like a little girl,” Manfred said.

  “As I am standing here looking at your wife, I can see that we have the perfect child for you. In fact, there is such a resemblance, you’re not going to believe it.”

  Christa smiled. “Can you tell us a little about her?”

  “Of course, I would be more than happy to. The child is a little over a year old. Her naming ceremony, well, Himmler performed it himself. He gave her the name of Katja. A pretty name? Ja?”

  “It is. May we see her?” Christa asked.

  “Of course, you may. Wait until you see this is a beautiful little Aryan girl. And she is so good. Hardly ever cries. Come on, follow me. I will take you to the waiting room outside the nursery, then I’ll have one of the nurses bring Katja out so that you can see her.”

  The waiting room outside the nursery looked like a comfortable living room in a prosperous country estate. There were large overstuffed chairs in a deep hunter green fabric embroidered with a gold thread design. On the white marble floor lay a large wool rug, mostly the same green color, with touches of gold and deep burgundy. Two lamps stood across the room from each other on similar mahogany coffee tables. Manfred and Christa sat together. He reached for her hand, patted it, and she smiled. A half hour passed before a nurse wearing a starched white cotton uniform and small head cap entered, accompanied by Beatrix. The nurse carried a bundle swathed in blankets so white they looked brand new.

  “This is Katja,” Beatrix said, smiling, as the nurse turned the infant so that Manfred and Christa could see her face.

  Christa stood to get a better look.

  Katja’s miniscule eyelashes brushed against her cheek as she slept. A dusting of golden hair covered her small head.

  “She’s beautiful,” Christa said, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “Would you like to hold her?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes. Oh, yes. May I?”

  “Of course.” The nurse placed the baby in Christa’s arms and Christa sat back down to hold her.

  “You look radiant with that child in your arms,” Manfred said. Once again, he was reminded of how fortunate he was to have won this beautiful woman as his wife. He remembered how he had watched her from a far, wishing, hoping, dreaming, and eventually scheming so that some day she would be his. And now, here he was beside her, Rottenführer Blau, her husband, Goebbels friend, and the father of their soon to be child. Rottenführer Blau, that was him, the man who’d dined at the same table as Adolf Hitler. Manfred, he thought to himself, you have so come far from the weak and uncoordinated boy who failed at every sport in the Hitler Jugend. A secret smile crept across his face. He had done it. He’d created the life he’d longed for as a child, and now things were only going to get better and better. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself rise in the Party. Maybe someday, maybe, just maybe, he would replace Himmler as Reichsführer. Dare he dream so big? Why not, look at where he’d started, and where he was now. There was no telling how far he might go in his career.

  Manfred watched Christa. She seemed to glow as she tenderly touched the infant’s cheek.

  “I love her already,” Christa said, biting her lower lip.

  “Are you going to want to see anymore of the children?” Beatrix asked.

  “I don’t. I am happy with Katja. But, do you, Manfred?” Christa asked, sounding hopeful that he would agree with her decision.

  He walked over and looked closely at the baby. She was lovely, and it was true, there was an uncanny resemblance to Christa: the light hair, the soft blue eyes. Why look at any other babies? This child made Christa happy, and that was all that mattered. Little Katja was perfect.

  “I don’t need to see any others. She’s a lovely child. I’d like to begin the adoption process for this one.”

  “Her name is Katja,” Beatrix said.

  “Yes,” Manfred said. “Katja.”

  “Katja,” Christa repeated, as she looked at the perfect little face. “You are beautiful.”

  “Just look at how pretty that baby is. Why she is the perfect Aryan child.” Beatrix smiled. “Look at that light hair. It looks like an angel’s halo around her head, and those blue eyes... She will surely grow up to be a beauty and make you both very proud.”

  Manfred smiled. It would have been better to have their own, but this did make life easier. Now he could concentrate on his career.

  Before they left Berlin, Manfred and Christa had set up a nursery for the baby they planned to bring home. It was painted yellow. Shelves lined the walls covered with stuffed animals. There was a white bear with a pink and blue ribbon around its neck, a tall dog with a huge black nose, and a fat little pink pig. There was a brown teddy bear and a wooden rock
ing horse. The cradle was made of wood and painted white. Manfred had it suspended from the ceiling, enabling it to rock slowly back and forth. A white wooden dresser that matched the cradle stood beside the bed

  Now that they’d decided upon a little girl, they left the institute to wait for the papers to be processed. That afternoon, Manfred and Christa went into town, where they purchased a pretty blonde-haired doll. Her eyes were royal blue and she had full red lips. The doll wore traditional German attire similar to what Christa had worn at her wedding: a white blouse with a puffed sleeve and a full green skirt.

  They purchased blankets in all different shades of pink to be stacked in her closet on a shelf. Before the couple had gone to Steinhöring, they’d received gifts from all of the people at Manfred’s office for the new baby. But since no one knew if it would be a boy or girl, everything that they received was yellow. There were little yellow undershirts, and sleepers, little yellow socks too. Christa mentioned this fact to Manfred and he suggested that she go ahead and buy some frilly pink dresses for the baby because he knew it would make her happy.

  The following day they went back to Steinhöring to pick the baby up. All of the papers had been signed and notarized. After placing an envelope filled with documents in Manfred’s hand, the baby was placed in Christa’s arms. She was officially a mother.

  Katja slept off and on all the way home, waking only to take a few sips from her bottle, and then falling back into a peaceful slumber. The motion of the automobile calmed the baby, and kept her sleepy and quiet.

  When they arrived back in Berlin, Manfred placed the manila envelope in the bottom of his desk.

  Christa laid Katja in her crib. The baby fussed until Christa gently rocked the cradle, helping the child to drift off to sleep.

  Manfred entered the room and stood beside his wife.

  “Are you happy?” he asked, knowing the answer.

  “I am. I am so happy.”

  “I am,. When you’re happy, I am happy,” he said.

  She turned and kissed him. He hated to return to work. It was so lovely to spend the time with his wife. Manfred decided to bring her a dozen roses the following day from the vendor outside his office.

  Chapter 34

  A shroud of darkness covered the street as Dr. Henkener walked, almost hugging the building, staying carefully out of the lamplight. It was nearly midnight as he hurried towards his office carrying a small bundle of food for the Rosen family. Passing an alleyway, he thought he heard footsteps behind him. He shivered: the Gestapo. If he were caught with the food, there was no explanation. From now on, he would bring lunches to work and save them in his desk, then bring them up when he was sure everyone had left. This method of carrying large quantities of food was far too dangerous. He whipped around quickly, but no one was there. The wind whistled through the trees, and in the distance he heard a crash of thunder. Thomas Henkener jumped. It was going to rain. He sped up, walking as fast as possible without running. Then he heard the footsteps again.

  “Thomas.” It was a whisper in the dark. “Thomas, it’s me, Hershel Shulman.”

  “Hershel? Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me and my wife.”

  Out of the darkness, Dr. Shulman appeared. He wore a ragged black wool overcoat and was accompanied by a tiny woman with long dark hair pinned up into a messy bun.

  “Come, follow me. Hurry,” Dr. Henkener said. He glanced around. The street was bare. There was another crash of thunder, followed by lightning. The storm moved closer.

  The Shulmans followed Dr. Henkener into his office building. “We must not turn on any lights. Come…I have a candle in my office.”

  They navigated the building by holding on to the walls until they found Dr. Henkener’s office.

  “Wait here,” Dr. Henkener said.

  Henkener went into his office, lit the candle, and returned.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  Dr. Shulman and his wife followed Henkener up into the attic, their way lit by the tiny flicker of light. Once they were upstairs, they saw the Rosens.

  “Do you know Dr. Rosen?”

  “I think we’ve met. I’m Hershel Shulman, and this is my wife Perle.”

  Dr. Rosen nodded.

  “Now, Hershel, what can I do for you?” Thomas asked.

  “We need your help, my wife and I. We were in hiding. Our neighbors were trying to help us, but they became afraid. People began to suspect, we were forced to leave.”

  “Where is Meyer?”

  “Meyer, our son, God Bless him… He is in America with his wife. He has been trying to get papers for us, but so far, he is unable to do anything. We need help. Jews are being arrested every day. I have heard frightening things. I have heard that the camps are not work camps, but death camps. There is murder being committed at these concentration camps.” Hershel Shulman was covered in sweat. The perspiration from his brow was dripping into his eyes, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “I am sorry, Thomas, to come to you and burden you with my problem, but frankly, I have nowhere else to turn.”

  “There is not enough room here. We hardly have enough food for ourselves. We cannot take on another two people, Thomas.” Zalaman Rosen said.

  “We must and we will,” Thomas Henkener said. “This man is my friend. He saved my daughter. Without his help, she would be dead. My Christa, my precious child was born a blue baby. Dr. Shulman was the only one who could help her. He stays.”

  “How will we manage?”

  “We will manage the best we can. These are bad times. I am doing what I can to help you. But selfishness isn’t the answer,” Thomas said. Then he turned to Hershel Shulman. “There is not much I can do for you, there is only this small room and whatever food I am able to bring. I wish it could be more. You deserve only the best, but I am afraid this is all I can give.”

  “It is everything. You are giving us our lives. What could be more than that?” Dr. Shulman said. Tears had begun to form in his eyes. He embraced Thomas Henkener. “You are a good man. God Bless you, my friend.”

  Dr. Henkener turned away in embarrassment. Then he opened the package. “Here is food. Please share it among you. I will bring more as soon as I am able. And Hershel…”

  “Yes?” Hershel Shulman gazed at him, his eyes illuminated in the flickering candle light.

  “I am glad, no honored, that you came to me. It is a privilege to be given this opportunity to help you,” Thomas Henkener said.

  Chapter 35

  “It’s all arranged. Karl Abdenstern has found Helen. She said she would take Eidel until this is all over. At least Eidel is a girl and blonde too. That is good. If she were, a boy we would have to worry about the Nazis seeing the circumcision. But with a girl there is nothing to distinguish her as Jewish,” Fruma said. Then she wrapped her arm around Zofia. “Zofia, it will be alright.”

  “I know. I know it will. I trust Helen. But I will miss Eidel terribly.”

  “We all will,” Gitel said. “But it is in her best interest to get her out of here.”

  “Yes, it is.” Fruma looked across the room at the baby in her playpen.

  “Tonight? He is taking her so soon?” Zofia asked.

  “Yes, the sooner the better. Koppel is a pain in the ass. I don’t trust him.”

  “I know. I’ve been holding him off, but soon he will insist that we sleep together. And I don’t think I can bear it.”

  “Well, no matter what happens to us, at least Eidel will be safe,” Fruma said.

  “Yes, at least Eidel will be safe,” Zofia repeated.

  Zofia could not eat. A crevice began to open in the pit of her belly and as the day wore on, growing deeper until it felt like a canyon. She knew that it was best for Eidel to be as far from the Ghetto and her Jewish roots as possible. But the pain of separation was almost unbearable. Every time Eidel smiled at her, she wept. But when the sun descended from the sky and the darkness covered the streets, Zofia dressed the baby as warmly as she co
uld, layering her clothes because Karl had insisted that there be no luggage. This, bringing a baby to the other side outside of the Ghetto walls, Karl told the women, was the most dangerous mission he’d ever taken on. At any time, Eidel might cry and alert the guards. In fact, it was probable that she would because the baby did not know Karl and would be frantic for her mother. He’d given Fruma a shot of whiskey to give the baby before the journey began, in hopes that she might sleep through the entire process. Once Eidel was dressed, Fruma gave her the whiskey through a dropper. Eidel made a face of dislike, but Fruma continued to force the alcohol into her mouth. Then she rocked the Eidel to sleep.

  Together Zofia, Fruma, and Gitel took Eidel to a crawlspace under an apartment building where they met Karl. He was waiting his arms folded across his chest, his eyes darting, keen, and aware. There were only a few short seconds for Zofia to hold her child tightly to her breast. Then each of the women kissed Eidel’s cheek as she slept. Karl reached out and took the baby. He was a big man but even in the darkness, the women saw the gentleness in his touch.

  “She will be all right,” he promised, his dark eyes filled with sincerity.

  “I will pay you money for doing this for us,” Fruma said.

  “It’s all right. I will do it because I want to do it, not for the money, but so that another Jewish child might live, and someday be a part of a Jewish state, the state that I see in my dreams, the state of Palestine.”

  “You’re a Zionist?” Gitel asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I have Zionist leanings, although I’ve never shared that with anyone, except Fruma. Without a Jewish state, the world is bound to keep on treating us like dirt. We need a homeland of our own.”

  “I agree with you. And so many others feel the same way. You see, we have meetings. They are secret meetings and must be kept in the quiet because of the Judenrats. But, you’re invited. I am inviting you. However, I don’t want to stand here talking. It’s far too dangerous and puts the child at too much risk. I must go now, but come tomorrow morning to the alleyway where I sell my black market goods. I might have some work for Zofia and Fruma. But I will also have time to give you more details on the meeting.”