by Paul Grant
‘Quite.’ Sommer drew hard on her cigarette, much like it might be her last.
As she took it all in, Maria watched the boys on the rafts, now throwing stones across the surface of the water.
‘You’re here to give me a warning?’
Sommer shrugged. ‘I am just telling you the Nazis are using this as an opportunity to settle old scores. People they’ve either suspected, or just hate. They left people in their positions, such as in the Abwehr, because they were useful to them. Resourceful, intelligent people, not in agreement with them as such, but nonetheless important to the war effort.’
‘Like the Major.’
‘Indeed.’
Maria could see she was worried. She’d lost the austere snappiness of their previous meetings. The confidence of control had all but evaporated.
‘Are you at risk?’
Sommer laughed. ‘You only have to look around you to see we’re all at risk.’
Dark humour was all they had these days.
‘The Major was a very careful man. I do not believe I am at risk, or you for that matter. What is certain is, the Abwehr as an independent department is no more; they have been incorporated into the SD.’
‘The Gestapo?’
‘Essentially, yes. It means the resources the Major brought to the group are no longer available to us.’
‘Is there something I can do to help?’ Maria asked.
‘I doubt there is much extra we can do now. Of course, there are the people we continue to hide, but their numbers are dwindling.’
‘Most of them have been arrested?’
‘Yes, unfortunately. Denounced by others. We just have to be grateful for the people we managed to get out.’
Maria smiled, thinking of Hannah.
Sommer threw her spent cigarette to the floor. ‘What I really came to tell you, Maria, is that we are on our own now.’ She made a gesture towards the bomb-pitted surface of the square. ‘Until this is all over, we just have to survive.’
Maria raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s all?’
Sommer laughed. ‘Yes, just that. Seriously, though, the Nazis are becoming increasingly desperate. They will try anything now, arrest anybody without reason. It will get worse as the Russians close in.’
She turned towards her. Maria could see the woman was more human now, fear, even some warmth, in those brown eyes.
‘Be careful, Maria. It’s not the time to take risks.’
CHAPTER 23
MARCH 1945, BERLIN
Ulrich Schultz looked Günther up and down, checking out his uniform. The blue jacket was so faded, it looked almost grey. There was blue signage of the Lüftwaffe and shoulder tabs to denote his regiment, the same as Günther’s father. Called up by the year of his birth, 1929, Günther’s father had ensured he would serve on the Friedrichshain flak tower with him. It was dangerous work; Ulrich didn’t envy him for a second. It was, however, better than the alternative.
They could hear the heavy guns. The battle was approaching the city.
‘It won’t be long now,’ Ulrich said.
‘I suppose so.’ Günther seemed withdrawn and worried.
‘How was it last night?’
Günther bit his lip. ‘I was scared, Uli, and that was on a quiet night. You cannot believe what the city looks like all lit up like one giant pyre.’
‘Was it bad?’
‘Not really for us. They hit the north and west of the city. The Amis are probably being careful not to hit the Russians.’
‘Are they really that close?’
‘You only have to listen.’
They both instinctively bobbed their heads as an explosion vibrated through the floor.
‘Dad says it won’t be long before we’re training our guns on the ground.’
Ulrich raised his eyebrows. It was hard to believe it was all coming to an end so suddenly. The war was all he had seemed to know.
The street was alive with activity. They had both come to see the latest Volkssturm parade. Boy soldiers and old men being sworn in and marched off to fight the Russians. The Volkssturm was Günther’s alternative if he hadn’t joined his father on the flak tower. Ulrich felt very fortunate to have been born a couple of years later, otherwise he too would have been forced into the battle.
Günther was still stuck on the topic of last night. ‘The skyline was ablaze. You could see the whole city, or what’s left of it.’
He shook his head in disbelief. Ulrich found it difficult to understand his friend’s surprise given they’d been tripping around the ruins for the last two years.
They could hear the sound of marching boots approaching, despite not being able to yet see the column. The long queue from the bakers was being pushed back in preparation for the troops to pass. Ulrich spotted Ina Stinnes in the line, quiet for once. Normally, she would be the centre of the gossip, women crowded around the pot for honey, but seemingly not today. Her eyes were red, and the skin underneath puffed up like a beaten boxer. Behind the queue, on the wall, Ulrich could see the giant shadow man with the slogan, “Shh! The enemy is listening!” Some wisecrack had added a suitcase to Shadowman’s hand and written below, “Adolf scarpers!”
‘Has your Dad ever talked about getting out of the city?’
Günther sniggered. ‘Where to? You heard the stories about the refugee columns. The roads are choked. The Russians are shooting up the columns, even our own planes are doing it to allow the military columns through. Besides, we have to take care of Grandma. Dad would never desert anyway. Why?’
‘I just wondered. Mum never talks about it. I think she’d be worried Dad wouldn’t be able to find us when he came back.’
Günther shot him a look. ‘You still don’t think he’s...well, survived?’
Ulrich shrugged. He didn’t want to get into another discussion on the topic. He was well aware what Günther thought. He didn’t understand why Ulrich felt like he did, and Ulrich had sworn not to say anything about it. In a few weeks, it wouldn’t matter anymore, when the Nazis were gone. In the meantime, the Nazis clung on, albeit losing their grip day by day; the poster was testament to that.
Ulrich could see the column now. He nudged Günther from his thoughts. ‘Here they come!’
As they approached, he was struck by the array of different uniforms. The boys wore the shirts of the Hitler Youth with Lüftwaffe caps, and field grey Wehrmacht jackets. Most of the jackets were too big for the boys. Some of the older men wore uniforms from the Great War. The instruction had been to wear field-service brown and under no circumstances bright colours. Everyone had laughed about that. There had even been a collection of old uniforms for the Volkssturm a few weeks before. It told Ulrich the government was no longer able to provide such things.
They had a variety of different weapons on their shoulders, old, foreign, but mainly Panzerfaust, single use, anti-tank bazookas. The battle, when they reached it, would be at close quarters, Russian tanks against German boys with toy weapons. Ulrich had seen crisper marching, earlier in the war. Now the men dragged their feet, for the most part, reluctant to be heading off to the front.
‘My God! There’s Alfred!’ Ulrich shouted. ‘Look Günther, can you see him?’
‘How can that be? He was in your class at school.’
Ulrich swallowed hard. The helmet was two sizes too big. He was barely able to see where he was going. His tunic was rolled up on the arms. There was no doubt it was him.
‘He’s only fourteen. They’re supposed to be sixteen.’
‘Maybe he lied about his age?’
Except for the thud and scrape of the boots on the street, there was silence as the column made its way past them.
Another one of the HJ boys caught his eye. Admittedly, he was one of the larger boys, nearly a man in size at least. Günther nudged him, but Ulrich had already spotted him.
‘I know.’
The boy’s face turned towards Ulrich and their eyes met. There was no longer malice and hatred in the face of Horst
Stinnes. Only tears rolled down his face. Ulrich felt his head shaking from side to side. He felt only pity for him.
‘No! Please, God, no!’ From the other side of the street there was a woman’s cry from the queue. The sobs cut through the silence, cementing the sadness of the scene.
‘Don’t let my boy go. Not my baby Horst. Please!’
Ina Stinnes was restrained by some of the other women, as she tried to reach her son. Her face was contorted in agony. Horst shrank into his greatcoat, adjusting his rifle from one shoulder to the other in order to wipe the tears from his face. He still marched. He had no choice.
***
The intervening months had been tough for Maria. The constant threat of air raids, lack of sleep from long nights spent in the cellar. The lack of food was probably the worst thing, more for the children than the adults. People were constantly under duress; some had already broken. The news of the atrocities committed by Russian troops on their drive through East Prussia had ratcheted up the anxiety in the city to fever pitch. In spite of all those things, they weren’t Maria’s biggest fear. For now, she was only focused on keeping her son out of the war.
Many parents had folded under the pressure to volunteer their sons. Many of the HJ boys, some as young as thirteen, were already involved in the fighting. Maria wasn’t about to give into any bullying tactics, even if the school had been pushing for Ulrich to join the HJ again. She had endured insults on the street, no doubt orchestrated by the Stinnes woman, but Maria was made of stern stuff. She was determined the Nazis would not use her son as a sacrifice for their dying cause. They’d already taken enough time away from her husband, and she wasn’t about to let that happen again.
‘See what I have drawn, Mummy.’ Eva held up the drawing: broken buildings, aeroplanes and bombs. It was all she knew.
‘Very good, Eva. Shall we draw some flowers and animals this time?’
Maria received a blank look of incomprehension. The only animals around recently were emaciated stray dogs and rats. A bright look suddenly appeared on Eva’s tired face. She turned the paper over and started to draw on the other side.
Maria looked around the apartment and wondered how much longer the place would hold together. At any other time, it would have been declared uninhabitable. Only two of the four windows remained, and they were cracked. There was a hole the size of a football in the ceiling. They heard everything from Helmi’s place above them. She’d thought about trying to get re-housed, then decided against it. She was close to her friends here and undamaged properties were unsurprisingly thin on the ground in the city.
A loud banging on the door brought Maria back to reality. She smiled as Eva continued to draw diligently. At five years old, it was clear she was going to be very bright. Wearily, Maria pulled herself up from the table to answer the door. Before she reached it, there was further insistent knocking.
‘All right, I’m coming,’ Maria said, slightly agitated.
Kriminalkommisar Reitsch stood by the side of a man in a Hitler Youth uniform. He was the one leading; Reitsch looked on with a grave face.
‘We must talk about your son, Frau Schultz.’
Maria was instantly on the defensive. ‘What do you want?’
Reitsch stepped in. ‘Perhaps we could come in and discuss it Maria. This topic shouldn’t be tackled on the doorstep.’
‘It’s Frau Schultz and I have nothing to hide.’
Her arms crossed, she turned back to the HJ man.
‘Why is my son any of your concern?’
‘We have an order to mobilise all boys to help with the city fortifications.’
Maria wondered if it wasn’t a bit late for that. ‘I have heard of no such order.’
‘Oh, but you will, Frau Schultz. It will be announced later today.’
Maria continued to eye the man with suspicion.
‘Perhaps we should discuss it inside, Frau Schultz.’ Reitsch gestured with his good hand.
Maria was thinking quickly. She’d not heard of any order, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was the case. They were desperate and didn’t care who they took down with them. As she stood aside, she was trying to think of a way out of this mess.
In the living room, Eva stared, wide-eyed, at the two men.
‘You can carry on, dear,’ Maria said, nodding her head to reassure her. She felt Eva sense the predatory nature of the visitors. Eva reluctantly went back to her drawing, whilst keeping a wary eye on proceedings.
Maria didn’t want these people in her apartment any longer than she had to, but she was sure as hell ready to fight them for Ulrich.
‘What’s this order you speak of?’
Reitsch was clearly trying to smooth things. ‘First, let me introduce...’
‘I know who he is,’ Maria snapped. ‘So Gebietsführer Holz?’
The HJ man pulled out a piece of paper with a flourish. ‘It is signed by the Gauleiter himself, demanding the immediate use of all necessary resources for the defence of the city.’
‘So, you want to send a thirteen-year-old off to fight the Russians.?’
‘Not to fight. This is for fortification preparation. Anti-tank ditches and the like.’
Maria did not trust these people. She had heard it all before. Once away from the area, they would be pressed to fight, like the cannon fodder they’d coerced into the Volkssturm over the last few weeks.
‘I don’t believe you, Gebietsführer.’
‘It doesn’t matter what you believe. You have no choice in the matter. This is an order from Josef Goebbels himself.’
The man stood up and placed the slip on the table. ‘Your son is to report to the barracks on Hauptstrasse tomorrow morning. If you are so concerned, you can come and help dig some ditches, too. All volunteers are welcome.’
The man smiled at his own quip and walked towards the door, looking for Reitsch to follow.
‘I will join you downstairs, Gebietsführer.’
Once Holz had left, he turned to Maria. ‘I am sorry, Frau Schultz, there is little that can be done. You can be assured your son will be safe...’
Maria exploded. ‘Safe? Safe? Get real, Reitsch. You know these children are being sent to the front line, sacrificing themselves for a lost cause.’
‘Frau Schultz, you must be careful…’
‘I don’t care, Kriminalkommisar Reitsch. This war was lost a long time ago and I hope all the criminals on Wilhelmstrasse hang when the Russians arrive.’
Maria took a deep breath, trying to control her anger. Reitsch was lost for words and headed for the door. She followed him, keen to see him out so she could compose herself. The door was slightly ajar, but there was no sign of Holz waiting outside. Suddenly, Reitsch turned to her. They were quite close to each other in the small hallway, uncomfortably so for Maria.
‘Perhaps I could do something to help delay your son’s call-up?’
Maria’s eyes started to narrow. She trusted Reitsch less than Holz.
‘As well as ignoring what you have just said, of course.’
The implied threat hung in the air. Maria swallowed hard. She felt sick being near the man, yet she knew that one word from him and Ulrich could be kept from Holz’s grasp.
‘I’d be...’ She swallowed again, trying to keep down the bile that was rising in her throat, ‘...grateful if you could do that.’
She hated herself for using the words, but she felt she had little choice.
Reitsch raised his eyebrows. ‘Grateful? Exactly how grateful?’
He started to move towards her and Maria recoiled, but only managed to back onto the wall. Reitsch quickly placed his hand on the surface behind her and started to duck his head towards her face. Maria put her hands on his chest to push him away.
‘Mother?’
***
Ulrich stood by the door not able to believe what he was seeing. A man was leaning over his mother, about to kiss her.
‘Mother?’
The two of them looked shock
ed. The man stepped back and his mother appeared flustered. The man was wearing a leather coat and looked every inch Gestapo. Ulrich moved down the hallway. Staring at his mother, he said, ‘How could you?’
He barged past the man and on into the apartment. He heard the front door closing and his mother rushed into the living room.
‘Who the hell is that man?’ Ulrich was pointing angrily.
‘Kriminalkommisar Reitsch. Ulrich, let me explain...’
‘Explain what? Explain why you were kissing another man on the doorstep.’
‘I was not kissing anybody, Ulrich.’
‘What about my father?’
His mother held out both her hands in front of her in an attempt to calm him. ‘You don’t understand. It’s not how it appeared.’
‘I know what I saw...’
‘They came with orders for you to join the HJ.’
Ulrich was confused. ‘What him? Gestapo? What’s it got to do with him?’
Maria had to admit it was strange when he turned up with Holz, but now she knew why.
‘The slip is on the table. You are to report tomorrow.’
‘What?’
‘Digging anti-tank ditches, they said, but we know it’s lies. Reitsch, the Gestapo man, may be able to help.’
‘So, you thought you’d convince him to help by kissing him?’
‘No, it wasn’t like that...’
‘Not bloody much it wasn’t.’
Ulrich stormed towards the door. ‘I know what I saw. You’re a disgrace.’
Ulrich ran out of the door before Maria could stop him.
CHAPTER 24
APRIL 1945, BERLIN
The incessant squeak of the water pump had become an increasing feature of life in the last few days. The supply had been cut and pumping water was the only way to wash and keep the dust at bay. Maria Schultz stood in the huddled line, bucket in each hand, waiting her turn, whilst trying not to think too much about the devastation around her. Rubble was piled up on every corner, dogs picking over the ruins. If she raised her eyes she saw buildings like broken teeth, their facades torn asunder to expose internal walls; photographs still hung haphazardly on the less damaged ones. The shelling was relentless. The combined strain of no sleep and the constant hunt for food was telling on everyone in the city. On top of that, the Russians were on the doorstep, but Maria’s mind was on other, more pressing worries.
