BERLIN: Reaping the Whirlwind (The Schultz family story Book 2)

by Paul Grant

  ‘The Gestapo have been around here asking questions about the Steins. That snitch Ina Stinnes has told them we were close. You cannot believe the levels she’d stoop to.’

  ‘Believe me, I know.’ I told her about the episode at Horch’s.

  ‘That’s only the tip of the iceberg, Klaus. She has already re-allocated Rachael’s apartment.’

  ‘That’s why you have to be so careful, Maria. You cannot be seen to be involved. Think about the kids.’

  ‘That’s exactly how they want you to think, exactly how they want you to behave. To be scared, to say nothing. We mustn’t be like that.’

  I thought about the faceless queue at Horch’s. Maria was right, but so was I.

  ***

  The next few days were as I’d hoped they would be. I spent the time getting to know my family again. Eva was a pleasure, and so easy to be around. Ulrich was full of energy and action, and constantly asking questions about the war and my time in Russia. I avoided the questions by giving vague answers, but did allow him to take my medals into his school. He felt more proud about them than I did. All the men in the group were just as brave and heroic as the next.

  Maria and I had taken up where we’d left off. Life felt complete; if only it wasn’t for the nagging gloom of the approaching day I would have to return to the front. Fortunately, the Tommies stayed away. Maria said it had been that way for a few months. A part of me wondered how long that would last. The other part of me didn’t give a damn and was eternally grateful for the pleasures the undisturbed nights permitted.

  We wanted for little. My soldiers’ rations boosted the family’s food intake. Ulrich always seemed hungry, but then again, that wasn’t a great surprise as he was always on the move. I noticed Maria was preparing a small food package, siphoning off some of our daily rations. I knew who it was for and I certainly didn’t begrudge the Steins; after all, I suspected they’d have far more difficult things to manage in the future than laying their hands on food.

  I’d learned more of the onerous restrictions placed on the Jewish population of Berlin during my time at the front. They’d been forbidden from sitting in certain areas of the S-Bahn trams, and then banned from using them outright. From the late 30’s they’d already been removed from public life, unable to practice as doctors or lawyers, then as the war progressed they’d been denied access to cinemas and public parks. Finally, they were now made to wear the Star of David and many had already been transported to work camps or somewhere much worse. The sad thing was, just like in the queue at Horch’s, people had seen it all before and they had become immune to the persecution going on around them. People didn’t care anymore, and if they ever did, with people like Ina Stinnes around, they had their own necks to worry about; self-preservation was the name of the game. This brought me back to my concerns about Maria’s actions.

  It was two days before I was due to return to the front when Maria appeared from the kitchen with a sizable bag of groceries.

  ‘I have to go out for a while,’ she announced.

  I shook my head. ‘I’ll take it.’

  ‘You can’t, Klaus. They won’t be expecting you, only me,’ she protested.

  ‘Maria, you’ve taken enough risks. We have our own children here and they need their mother alive and well.’

  ‘I knew you’d be like this about it.’

  I didn’t want to have an argument, especially so close to the end of my leave, but I felt strongly about it.

  ‘Like what, Maria? Caring for my wife, looking out for my children? What do you expect? You are being reckless.’

  She shrugged off my comments as she pulled on her coat.

  I stood up. ‘No, Maria. You’ve done enough.’

  ‘Done enough? Could you look Michael in the eye, after what he did for Germany, and say we’ve done enough?’

  She had a point, but I wasn’t giving up. ‘Nobody is saying they should go without. I will take the food. You just need to tell me where to go.’

  There was defiance in those beautiful eyes. I loved her fire. There’d been times when we were younger and without children, when the risk taking had been a thrill. We both loved sneaking to her room when her mother and father were sleeping, even making love in the open air by the Mügelsee. Those were the times when there was only us to think about, when we were the only ones who would pay for the consequences if we were caught. Now it was different, yet Maria hadn’t changed her behaviour.

  The timing of Eva’s cry was poignant. The look of confrontation on Maria’s face evaporated to be replaced by the look of a dutiful mother, full of concern. She immediately put down the bag and went to Eva.

  By the time she’d returned, I was ready to go. Maria’s face hardened as if she was about to continue where she’d left off before the interruption.

  ‘Who would go to Eva when she cried in the night if you didn’t come back, Maria?’

  I could see the conflicting emotions pulling her in opposite directions. She wasn’t used to answering for her actions. She’d been following her heart in my absence, her instinct. After what seemed like an eternity, she eventually told me where to find the Steins. I shuddered to think how long it would have taken for the Gestapo to extract the same information, or what damage would they would have inflicted in doing so.

  ***

  There were people around me. I knew that because I could hear them speaking in hushed tones. However, aside from the infrequent glow of a cigarette and the whitewashed curbing, the blackout brought complete darkness. Once again, the Berliners had surpassed themselves in their efficacy of complying with the regulations. Of course, the blackout brought its problems; it led to accidents. It also led to drunkenness and violence, and even murders. It had taken two years and twelve dead women before Paul Ogorzow had been apprehended and executed for his crimes. It was one of the reasons I was so mad with Maria. She’d taken huge risks with her safety; I couldn’t help but admire her bravery. Now it was my turn to come to the aid of the Steins by delivering the food parcel they depended upon. I thought I’d left the danger behind in Stalingrad.

  The district of Schöneberg wasn’t that far from our apartment. In normal light, I could have expected to be there in half an hour. As it was, in the blackout, it took me more than an hour and a half. In that time, I’d managed to bump into a policeman and fall over a man prostrate in the street. He was sleeping off his night of ale. I had other things on my mind. It was a cool night, but nothing like the cold of Russia. I wasn’t looking forward to returning to Stalingrad. I turned up the collar of my greatcoat at the thought.

  I made it to Yorckstrasse, close to the address Maria had given me. An Aryan couple were providing shelter for the Steins in their cellar. The lack of recent air raids had provided a convenient hiding place. They would be forced to move on in a hurry if the bombers came back. I was keen to get the job done as soon as possible; however, my instinct told me I could hardly walk up to the front door of the apartment and hand over the food parcel without getting a feel for the area first. Make no mistake, aiding Jews was punishable with a prison sentence and I didn’t fancy spending time at Adolf Hitler’s pleasure.

  I used the shuttered flashlight, briefly, to locate the numbers of the apartments. I was quite close now. I guessed this wasn’t normally a quiet street in daylight hours, given the number of shops I’d passed. Now the street was deserted, except for the very infrequent passer-by. I heard somebody walking on the opposite side of the street, feet scraping on the damp surface. I smiled to myself as I heard a man’s voice, ‘Honk honk!’ he called. The world of the blackout really was farcical.

  I scanned the flashlight along the wall and realised my target was the next entrance. I decided to pass quickly the first time just in case anybody was following me. Highly unlikely given the dark, but I couldn’t be sure. I was relying on strained hearing, which wasn’t my strongest sense after all the explosions my ears had endured over the last couple of years. I scooted past the alleyway to the
central courtyard, allowing myself a glance through the archway. I had no idea what I expected to see without light, but the pass of the entrance went someway to reassuring me the Gestapo weren’t lying in wait around the corner.

  Having passed, I waited at the next junction for five minutes. In that time, I heard no other person on the street. Feeling only an urgent need to relieve myself of the package, I decided it was time to do what I had come for, if only to get back to Maria quickly and spend my last moments in Berlin with her. As I moved, I started to wonder what the hell I was doing out there, why I was getting involved, then I remembered. I was there to prevent Maria being there, for the good of my own kids.

  I got to the doorway and took a deep breath. This would go one of two ways. If it turned out badly, I’d probably be spending the night at the Alex. I pushed on the rotting wooden gate and found myself in a damp alleyway. As I moved carefully along, what noise there had been in the street was absorbed by the stillness of the courtyard beyond. I stopped suddenly, sensing the presence of another person. My animal instinct had been honed by war. I sensed imminent danger. Then it was on me, a hand gripped my forearm with infinitely more power than the middle aged man in front of my chest should normally have possessed. I was ready to strike out, but, if anything, his strong manner prevented me from doing so.

  ‘A light, Sergeant, please,’ he said.

  He wasn’t holding up a cigarette, but I had to admit his request and use of my rank had puzzled me long enough to permit him to guide me forcefully back in the direction of the street. During the second I glanced into his eyes, I could not miss the intensity; it left me in no doubt he meant business. Indeed it led me to permit him to push me away from my intended goal.

  Back out on the street, his arm under my own, he spirited me quickly away from the scene. I was surprised at his speed over the ground.

  ‘They’ve gone,’ he said eventually, no doubt allowing enough distance to pass between us and the apartment before he spoke.

  ‘The Steins?’ I asked.

  ‘No names,’ he snapped. The rebuke done with, he continued. ‘They took all of them. The couple who were looking after them, the children, the others...’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Yesterday.’

  I stopped walking, even though his grip was pulling me on. ‘How did you know...?’

  ‘I was waiting for your wife,’ he said. ‘She comes every few days.’

  He turned towards me now. I took in a well-groomed man, his white hair swept neatly aside, his eyes, steely blue and focused on me. If I wasn’t mistaken, this man had a distinct military bearing.

  ‘She’s a brave and selfless woman, your wife. You can thank her for my help.’

  ‘Your help?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, releasing his vice like grip. ‘There were two men waiting up at the apartment for you, or your wife. I don’t need to tell you who they are.’

  He nodded once. His aura made me feel like saluting. Then he was gone, consumed by the dark blanket of Berlin.

  ***

  The day I’d dreaded since I felt that leave pass on my palm was unfortunately upon us. I was firm with Maria about saying goodbye at the apartment. I’d never liked farewells and I certainly wasn’t about to put Maria through a heart-rending version, with me hanging out of a railway carriage window. There was also no question that I wouldn’t return to the front. Deserting wasn’t me, and much as Maria didn’t like me going back, she knew I had to. Having the Dog Chains turn my apartment upside down, shaming my family, whilst I spent my life running like a criminal, wasn’t my idea of living.

  Neither of us had slept much. Maria’s lack of sleep was as much explained by the fate of the Steins as by my impending departure. She swore she didn’t know the man who’d stopped me from going to the apartment and undoubtedly prevented my subsequent arrest. I felt terrible for the Steins. I felt guilt for the fact that I was pleased Maria didn’t have to go there anymore, putting herself at risk. She’d come so close to being arrested and so had I. In some ways, I wasn’t that distraught to return to the front. At least life was simple there. It was all about direct assault, a physical struggle. In Berlin, life was insidious, even for the ordinary man and woman.

  My packed bag was by the door. We sat opposite each other, cramped in our small living room. Maria was tense, rings under her eyes, but beautiful nonetheless. Ulrich, allowed absence from school due to my departure, couldn’t sit still. Eva played with her wooden blocks on the floor, oblivious to the atmosphere.

  ‘Please write, Klaus. A letter means so much,’ Maria said.

  She didn’t need to say it. Nobody knew more than a soldier the power of a letter from home. Maria got up and went to the kitchen. She started to fuss. ‘I’ve packed you some food.’

  I followed her, catching up with her by the sink. She turned and flopped into my arms. ‘Oh Klaus, I hate all this. When will it end? When can we live a normal life?’

  I focused on the tape plastered across the window. Wherever you looked, you couldn’t get away from the war.

  ‘Very soon I hope.’ I pushed her off my chest to look at her, trying my best to be positive. ‘When I’m back we’ll get a place in the countryside, away from all this.’

  She smiled, ‘Well there are plenty of spare bricks in Berlin.’

  Her face turned serious, ‘Look after yourself Klaus Schultz. Remember we’re here, relying on you. I want my man back in one piece.’

  I squeezed her. ‘You know I was worried about how it would be between us after so long apart. I couldn’t help it.’

  She was intense now, the same serious face as when I’d stopped her going to the aid of the Steins. ‘Don’t ever think like that, Klaus.’

  My head dipped in shame at doubting her.

  ‘Look at me,’ she said.

  My eyes caught hers, power and sincerity oozed from them. ‘I’ll be here for you whatever happens, however long it takes. Don’t you ever forget that. Don’t you ever doubt me.’ A tear pricked at the corner of her eye and welled out down her cheeks. I kissed her, then squeezed her to me. I breathed in deeply whilst she groaned at the strength of my hug.

  ‘I’ll be back soon enough, I’ll see to it personally,’ I said.

  At least that made her laugh.

  ‘Now I have to go, or I’ll miss my train.’

  Back in the living room I scooped Eva from the floor. She squealed at the interruption of her game, but soon changed her mind when she rubbed her hand over my rough chin. I kissed her on her shiny cheeks then handed her to Maria. Ulrich had dragged my pack with some difficulty and it fell at my feet. Ulrich was putting a brave face on things.

  ‘Bring me another medal home, Dad,’ he said, with a feigned air of nonchalance.

  I ruffled his head, ‘Never mind the medals. You make sure you behave yourself and look after your Mother. She’ll tell me if you’re playing up.’

  He rolled his eyes, then flicked at the fringe flopping over his eyes. He let out a bored-sounding, ‘Okay, Dad.’

  I threw my pack up onto my shoulder and made for the door, trying like hell to push away any feelings I had. My heart felt like a lead weight in my chest, as my legs somehow carried me down the hallway. Outside, I turned and looked back. Maria’s eyes were closed in pain, Ulrich’s bottom lip quivered like a jelly. Only Eva appeared immune to the moment. I took them all in, photographing the scene in my mind. I couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before I saw them again.

  ***

  If the scene at Anhalter station had been chaotic on our arrival, then the departure was more like Armageddon. The wailing of children and wives was the very reason I couldn’t have had Maria there. It was mental torture for all concerned. I fought my way through the desperate farewells, still suffering my own trauma at leaving my family behind. I clambered aboard the train searching out some solitude to assuage my sorrowful state. A young private was already dozing on his pack, his face as white as a bed sheet, no doubt from ten days
of revelling. He awoke at my arrival and turned his head to the scene on the platform. ‘Christ, the sooner we get away from this infernal racket, the better.’

  ‘Got a headache, Private?’ I asked.

  ‘You’re not bloody kidding, Sarg. This place isn’t doing it any good, I can tell you.’

  He reminded me of Marz and what he had given up so I could be with Maria and the kids. He would have been in exactly the same condition now, if not worse.

  ‘We’ll be on our way soon enough,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, back to paradise,’ he said, patting his pack in a vain attempt to make it more comfortable.

  I followed his lead, knowing there was a long journey ahead of us. It was time to catch up on the sleep I’d lost through all the anxiety and worry. I thought about the Steins and what they would be going through. I imagined their train journey would be a hell of a lot worse than mine. I had to wonder what all our efforts were for. What would be the outcome of all the mess, all the lost lives and all the painful, often final, farewells?

  I tried to sleep but, given the time and place, the best I could manage was a semi-conscious awareness. In that half-awake state it was easy to believe I was imagining things. There was the shout of a boy in my head, insistent, desperate almost, ‘Sergeant Schultz. Sergeant Nikolaus Schultz.’ It grew louder and closer.

  I woke with a start, the carriage around me now full. Whistles warned of our imminent departure.

  ‘Sergeant Klaus Schultz!’

  I staggered to my feet, fighting my way to an open window. The platform was full of waving arms, handkerchiefs and painful crying. I saw the blond mop of hair first, then Ulrich’s face, his eyes swollen and awash with tears. Then he saw me and waved frantically, ‘Papa!’

  I flung open the door and hopped off the train, much to the annoyance of one of the military police in attendance. ‘Get back on the train, we’re about to leave,’ he growled.

  I ignored his angry voice as Ulrich leapt into my arms. I spun him around. The nonchalance of before had evaporated. He sobbed into my chest. ‘Come home, Papa.’