Friends & Enemies (Promise for Tomorrow Book 1)

by Terri Wangard

  He slid out, much to Sabine’s delight. Rising, he lifted the little girl and smooched her cheek.

  Lieselotte cleared her throat. “Are you really an army buddy of Konrad’s?”

  Could he lie to her? She must have some inkling of her husband’s activities. “I’m a friend of Heidi’s. We’re both grieving our spouses.”

  He told the truth. Just not the whole truth. Handing back Sabine, he hastened upstairs to relieve Gretchen.

  Konrad believed Paul’s chances of being discovered were less than fifty percent. Did this little episode increase, lessen, or make no difference to those chances? How could the Steinhorsts live like this, day after day after day?

  Chapter Fourty-Six

  Bickenbach, Germany

  Saturday, June 10, 1944

  Paul stared into the distance as a cool breeze fanned his face. After breathing paint fumes the last few days, he should have a roaring headache. Instead, he experienced the opposite effect, like he could fly without a plane. A rabbit nibbled on his pant leg, and he nudged it back. They should have put up the last side of fencing instead of using his leg to block the critters’ freedom.

  “You look like you’re a million miles away. Where are you? Your air base? Milwaukee?” Heidi adjusted the fencing so none of their secret rabbits could hop away before she sat beside him against a fallen log.

  A smile played about his lips. “Not nearly so far. My grandmother’s family came from Gross Tychow in Pomerania.” He pointed east. “That a’way.”

  Heidi followed his finger. “Did you know her well?”

  “Yeah, she was great. She died the year before you came to Wisconsin.” He shifted on the hard ground. “Grandma Braedel made the best dumplings. She didn’t use recipes though. Drove my mom batty. These dumplings were different. They weren’t bread-like. They were,” he searched for the right description, “squishy.”

  Heidi laughed. “Squishy? Paul, how can dumplings be squishy?”

  “I don’t know. They just... squished between my teeth. They were moist, but kind of sticky. Sticky, squishy dumplings. Long and skinny, too. Mom’s never been able to replicate them.”

  “Hmm. Must be a Pomeranian dish, or maybe they were some kind of spaetzle.”

  Two young rabbits tumbled into his leg. He picked them up and offered one to Heidi. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you live here in western Germany, west of the Rhine. Russia’s out there, Heidi. Brimming with anger and hatred, and with vengeance on their minds.” He released the rabbit and took her hand. “When a group of B-17s landed in Russia for refueling, the Ruskies didn’t offer a bit of protection. The Luftwaffe wiped them out on the ground. If that’s the way the Russians treat their Allies, I hate to imagine what’s going to happen in Germany.”

  “Paul, what are you talking about?” Her brow puckered.

  He eased his arm around her shoulders. “Heidi, the Germans committed terrible atrocities against the people they conquered in the east. Treated them worse than animals. Plundered, destroyed, raped, murdered. And we’re only hearing the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, from people who’ve escaped. Now the Russians are driving the Germans back. Slowly, maybe, but surely. They’re not going to stop until they get to Berlin. And you can bet they’re going to repay the Germans in kind.”

  Letting go of her, he leaned back and looked eastward again. “The air war over Germany is impersonal, no face-to-face contact. It’s arbitrary if a bomb falls on you or not. But when the Russians come, well, to be a German woman living in their path will probably be a living nightmare.” He pulled her close again. “The Western Allies won’t be like that. You’ll be safe from that kind of harm. There will be looting I’m sure, and likely isolated incidents, but not the wholesale savagery the women in the east can expect if the Russians repay in kind.”

  Heidi’s face paled at the scene he described, her hand on the rabbit stilled. All Germany now knew the Russian campaign hadn’t gone well, but they must not have a clue about their army’s conduct in the countries they conquered. Heidi took deep breaths as she rested her head on his shoulder. Hot tears dripped on Paul’s arm.

  “Hey, Bickenbach should be safe.”

  “But Germany…”

  “…will lie in ruins, I’m sure.”

  Heidi sat up and swept away her tears, but her eyes continued to overflow. “Oh, Paul, you should have heard Hitler’s speech when he declared war on the U.S. He said the most awful things about Presidents Roosevelt and Wilson.”

  “Wilson? What did he have to do with anything?”

  “I think Hitler blames him for the Versailles treaty. Something about the basest breach of his word.”

  Paul shook his head. “Wilson wanted to keep us out of the Great War. The poor guy didn’t dictate the terms of surrender. France and England did. They were determined to have their retribution for all the damage done to them.”

  Heidi continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “Hitler blamed Roosevelt for creating conflicts, saying he needed to divert attention from the Great Depression at home.” Her words spilled out. “I look around and wonder. So many people have never been to America or had any contact with Americans. They probably believed everything Hitler said, but Konrad says many people doubt him now. The war goes badly in the east. They see how the Gestapo treats us. Some wonder if what he said about America is actually true about Germany instead.”

  “And it’s going to get worse. I don’t suppose Hitler will stop until the very bitterest end.”

  “Last year, Gretchen said we’d end up as old maids because all the men are being killed. I think she was right. Every day we hear of someone who’s not coming home. They’re either dead or missing. Those who are returning are badly injured, like Konrad. Our cities are being destroyed. Who’s going to rebuild them? We don’t have a pleasant future to look forward to. Sometimes, when I consider my future, I see myself huddled close to a fire in a bleak hovel, trying to accomplish whatever sewing I’ve managed to take in.”

  Paul watched the emotions flicker across her face. Anxiety. Despair. Resignation. He couldn’t refute her forecast. Hitler had mortgaged Germany’s future and bankrupted the nation, physically, emotionally, and financially. But he would go home to a strong America. And Mrs. Blake, the old bat, was probably right. He’d find someone else to marry and raise a family with. “Do you think of Erich often?”

  Heidi stiffened at his question. She blinked once, twice. “Um, ye-ea-ah.” She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts. “I’ll see or do something that I know he’d like. I want to tell him, and then I remember I can’t.”

  Sadness dropped around her like a veil. Paul tried to head it off. “In our navy, submarine service is voluntary. Did Erich volunteer for the U-boats?”

  “Yes.” Heidi gave a definite nod. “But not really.”

  “Oh, that clarifies everything.”

  She laughed as he intended, and cupped the young rabbit in both hands. “He was asked if he would accept any assignment. One of his friends from training had just been assigned to an S-boat, one of the small, fast boats.” She paused and waited for Paul to nod. “Erich thought that sounded good. Better than a battleship. But then he was handed orders for a U-boat. He didn’t feel he could say he didn’t care for that.” She shrugged. “The U-boats were having the best success in the Kriegsmarine.”

  “Don’t they stink?” The stench of the barracks in Ridgewell couldn’t be forgotten. At least there, they could step outside for fresh air.

  Heidi laughed. “Abominably. But when they put out to sea, everything’s fresh. The air, the food, the bodies. Erich adjusted as it gradually grew foul. What he hated was being out on the coning tower and then having to go back down. He said it was like a slap in the face and a punch in the stomach. He never had much appetite and always came home on leave very thin.”

  Paul raised a knee and propped his arm on it. “That can happen in B-17s too. They can get ripe, but the cold is the real beast. More men probably su
ffer frostbite than combat wounds.”

  “You could look out the windows.” Heidi ruffled the rabbit’s fur. “Erich said submarines wouldn’t be so bad if they had windows. He wouldn’t have felt so penned in.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Paul tilted his head back and watched the clouds. “What could they see in deep water? It’d be all blackness, even with lights. No, I wouldn’t want to be in a submarine. No sir, not me.”

  Heidi patted his shoulder like he was seven years old.

  “Was it difficult to come back to Germany after living in America?”

  Her smile fading, Heidi hunched her shoulders and looked around. “At first, Hagen looked the same after three years, but we quickly sensed a change in the atmosphere. That first day, we saw a banner stretched across the main street of the city. Wer den juden kennt mennt den teufel. Who knows the Jew, knows the devil.” She passed him the rabbit and rubbed her arms.

  “We found bicycles out back of our new home, and Gretchen and I set out to explore. We meandered up one street and down another.” Heidi’s eyes closed. Reliving that ride, no doubt.

  “We came to Dömbergstrasse. I remembered the Scholls had a bakery there on Cathedral Hill Street. Gretchen immediately got excited, and suggested we find them, hoping Frau Scholl had baked apple strudel that day.”

  She took a deep breath, her eyes opening slowly. “The Scholls’ shop looked unchanged from outside, but the moment we stepped through the doorway, prickles danced along my spine.” She shivered now. “Behind the counter stood a couple who had been a few years ahead of me at school. Juergen was waiting on a customer. Sophia’s eyes narrowed when she looked at me. She said, ‘You’re Konrad Steinhorst’s little sister, aren’t you?’ Before I could respond, Gretchen piped up. ‘Where are the Scholls?’”

  Heidi clutched Paul’s hand, her nails digging into his palm. “The prickly feeling intensified, and I wished my little sister had kept quiet. Sophia said, ‘They’ve retired and moved away. Why do you ask?’ Retired, can you imagine? They wouldn’t have retired by choice. They weren’t that old and they loved that bakery. I grabbed Gretchen’s wrist and backed toward the door, saying something like, ‘My sister hoped Frau Scholl would have some of her delicious strudel for us.’”

  A tear slipped down Heidi’s cheek. “By that time, Juergen’s customer left and he, too, focused on us. He didn’t smile at all. Neither of them did. And he asked, ‘How is it you didn’t know they are gone?’”

  Paul stroked his thumb over her hand. He shouldn’t have asked, but her tale was enthralling.

  “I said we’d been away. Just came back to Hagan and were trying to get our bearings. When I felt the door behind me, I pulled it open and hoped my smile was cheery as I said, ‘Nice to see you again.’

  “Gretchen was bewildered by my reaction and wanted to know what was going on. I reminded her the Scholls are Jewish, and remember that banner? It can’t be too healthy to be Jewish these days. I was looking over my shoulder.” Heidi did so now. “I just wanted to get home and talk to Papa. We needed to have responses ready for situations like that.”

  She laughed without humor. “Gretchen said, ‘Maybe we should have stayed in Milwaukee.’ I was ready to believe that. I remember hoping Juergen and Sophia didn’t give us any more thought or tell anyone about us.” She rubbed the back of her hand across her face. “We’d heard whispers, of course, but to actually be here and experience it. What must the Scholls be experiencing? Where are they?”

  Fritz raced around the corner of the shed and barked joyfully at finding them. Paul batted his foot at the small dog, and Fritz pounced on it with a growl.

  He sighed and stood, pulling Heidi up with him. “Come on, the kids should be finished with lunch. Nothing like the joy and innocence of children to bring balm to the soul.”

  Heidi pointed at the rabbits. “Round up the bunnies, Fritzie.” Fritz sniffed a rabbit. “Oh, oh. Maybe I shouldn’t encourage his contact with our future meals.”

  She herded the rabbits into their hutch. “I’m sure they benefit from fresh air as much as the children do, but at least the children don’t end up on my plate.”

  Paul watched with Fritz in his arms. “Shouldn’t be like this. England’s not much different.”

  Germany was beautiful. Why couldn’t the Germans be satisfied with it? Hitler claimed they needed more living room, and were entitled to push out the inhabitants of their neighboring countries. Yet, that was the story of Earth’s history throughout the ages. For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work, according to the apostle James, or was it Peter? This war had to rank right up there as the worst kind of evil work.

  “Families around the air base invited us to their homes for dinner. They’re grateful we came to aid them after they’d borne the burden of war alone for so long.” He tickled Fritz’s ears and was rewarded with a lick. “I felt guilty eating their food. Their cupboards rival Mother Hubbard’s, same as here. The way we eat on base, you’d hardly know there are shortages. We should be inviting them…”

  Someone was approaching the farm from the wrong direction, through the woods. Heidi turned to see what caught his eye. She sucked in her breath. “Ursula.”

  “Take Fritz.” Paul thrust the dog in her arms. “I’m not here.”

  Paul hurried to the far side of a large tree and hoisted himself up. Heidi moved away from him, shifting Fritz in her arms to support his back. She ruffled his ears. “Trouble’s coming.”

  Ursula made no effort to mask her presence. What had she seen? What had she heard? Paul had been talking, but they’d been quiet and downwind. If Ursula thought she’d heard something, well, of course. Heidi wasn’t alone.

  “You know, Fritzie, I think it’s too late in the season to find any more asparagus.”

  The dog licked her chin.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  The strident tone caused Fritz to growl softly.

  Heidi turned slowly. She belonged here, not the informer. “Fritz.”

  Ursula caught sight of Fritz and stepped closer.

  Fritz bared his teeth and growled.

  Ursula stopped short. “That’s a dog.”

  Heidi fondled him behind his ears. “Thank you for telling me. I thought he was a cat.”

  Ursula looked like she’d swallowed a cherry pit. She puffed up, readying for an attack.

  Heidi beat her to it. “What are you doing here?”

  The girl blinked. It took her a while to shift gears. “I’m on my way back to the town hall after checking on things at the church.”

  “You’re going the wrong way.” Heidi pointed east. “The church is there, and you live over there, right next to the hall.”

  Ursula fisted her hands on her hips. “I know that.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  What must Paul think of this? No sounds came from overhead. Hopefully he was comfortable, since this encounter had all the earmarks of dragging on indefinitely.

  “I thought I’d see if you need anything for the children. And I can collect your eggs.” With her shoulders squared, Ursula must have thought she looked benevolent.

  “Eggs aren’t due today. And if we need anything, we’ll find it. We don’t expect you to do our work.”

  Heidi stood still, petting Fritz. If Ursula was waiting for an invitation to the house, she waited in vain.

  Fritz began growling again.

  Ursula blinked. She looked at Fritz. He barked, the growl continuing to rattle.

  Ursula raised her chin. “Rudy’s really interested in you. You should have talked with him the other day. You’d be wise to spend some time with him.”

  Heidi stared at her. What did Ursula hope to gain by championing that guy? “It’s never wise to encourage a man you don’t like.”

  “Psh. You don’t even know him.”

  Heidi counted to ten. Twice. “I know enough.” How had Herr Ziemer put it to Rudy? “I was married to the best. It’s never wis
e to settle for less.”

  Ursula opened her mouth, but Heidi turned away.

  “Ready to play with the children, Fritzie? Nap time should be over.”

  She walked past Paul’s tree and tried to spot him without tilting her head. No luck. Behind her, Ursula made plenty of noise as she stomped away, heading back toward town. Heidi could breathe easier.

  Paul dropped out of the tree and jogged to her. “That girl is something else.” He looked at her closely. “Are you all right?” He lifted Fritz from her arms and lowered him to the ground. “You’re trembling. Let’s go sit in the barn.”

  In the barn, Paul spread a rough blanket over a bale of hay. “That girl wouldn’t quit. I probably shouldn’t be outside if circling around and sneaking into the back yard is her new modus operandi. It’s kind of like having a noose dropped around our necks.”

  He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, and still she shivered. She rubbed her hands over and over. He put his own hand over them, and she clutched his fingers.

  “I don’t understand why she’s so persistent. Rudy must be putting her up to this.”

  “Could he arrest you for refusing him?”

  Her laugh sounded strangled. “Yes. The Gestapo doesn’t need legitimate reasons. Any trumped-up charge will do.”

  “Is it wise to sass her? Saying you thought Fritz was a cat? Wouldn’t that make her want to retaliate? I noticed that with Gretchen giving the Gestapo goon flippant answers. I wondered if she was trying to make him mad.”

  “We discussed that.” Heidi worried a loose thread in her skirt hem. “Konrad believes we shouldn’t show any sign of fear or weakness. They’ll only want to exploit that. It is a bit like walking a tightrope, but we can’t let them know they scare us.”

  Konrad joined them, carrying a large box. He frowned at Heidi’s comment. “Something happen?”