The more Katrine wandered around the halls of Wegimont, the more she understood why she’d never heard of the place before. Why, the whole Lebensborn program was a secret from even the most patriotic German citizens. The home wasn’t merely a nice place for German women to wait out their pregnancies, but rather a breeding lab experimenting in creating perfect Aryans. Though only three hours from Brussels by vehicle, it was as if she’d been transported to a new world.
“You should be thankful to be here,” Frau Meier said as she measured Katrine’s stomach during her checkup.
The cloth tape was cool against her skin, and Katrine tried not to flinch.
“Half of the women are not accepted. Some do not have good Aryan genes, and others not sufficient papers. You are privileged, Katrine, with the opportunity to honor the Reich.”
Katrine thought of her own papers, which she carried with her at all times. Hendrick had only asked to see them once, and he’d been satisfied. Yet no one had asked for them here. She wondered why they hadn’t probed into her history. Was it due to Hendrick’s position? Surely it would be foolish to question the mistress of someone who worked for the Office of Racial Purity.
The nurse pushed hard against Katrine’s stomach, checking the position of the baby. “He’s a big one, isn’t he? I’d say you might be further along than you thought.”
“He?”
“Officer Schwartz wishes for a son, does he not?”
“Yes, but it’s not as if I can determine that.”
“That is true, but you can always try again. Another child after this would help them to reach their quota.”
“Quota?”
“Girl,” Frau Meier scoffed. “Were you just born yesterday? All officers receive great rewards when the fourth child is birthed into their home. Any financial debt to the government is canceled. Plus, they receive many additional benefits from the state.”
Katrine’s limbs grew cold. She pulled her thin examination gown tighter around her. “But this child, or any future one, will not be in their home. He, or she, will be in mine. In the flat Hendrick has promised for me.”
Frau Meier finished the exam but refused to meet Katrine’s gaze. “You can dress now.”
Suddenly the door burst open. Inge stood there panting. “Frau Meier, come quick. It’s Anneliese. She’s having horrible pains. I think it’s time.”
“It can’t be; it’s far too early.”
Inge placed her hands under her stomach, wincing under the weight. “Oh, yes. Well, you should tell her that!”
Katrine dressed quickly, then followed Frau Meier down the hall. Even before they reached the delivery room she could hear Anneliese’s screams. She moved to open the door, but a hand caught her arm. She turned to find the nun.
“No. You wait here.” Sister Clarence’s eyes hinted of her concern. “It’s too close to your time to disturb you this way.”
“But what if she needs someone to hold her hand? Surely, she shouldn’t have to be alone.”
“She’s not alone, Katrine. Remember what the Good Book says. The girl is in God’s hands. He has her in His care.”
Katrine allowed Sister Clarence to lead her outside into the afternoon sunshine. Though the air was breezy, causing her to pull her sweater tighter around her frame, the sun felt warm on her hair.
“I’ll be fine, here. Really.” She made her way to the closest bench. “I’ll wait … and pray,” she added for the nun’s benefit.
The nun hurried off, and Katrine indeed attempted to take Anneliese’s needs before God. Yet every time she tried to picture God’s hands holding Anneliese, another image came to mind—Frau Meier clenching the girl’s hands and screaming in her ear. “Push, girl, push. Push me out a soldier for the Reich!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Katrine spotted Anneliese sitting as still as a statue at the front of the small chapel. Though they’d been more like acquaintances then friends, Katrine felt Anneliese would need extra support during her child’s naming ceremony, especially since these would be her last moments with the baby.
Frau Schmidt sat on one side of the young mother, an SS officer and his wife on the other. The Nazi flag hung over a small altar with a cushioned cradle, still empty. Next to the cradle stood a higher-ranking SS officer in full military dress. He held a small oak box in his hands.
Katrine’s blood ran cold as the man’s eyes followed her into the room. She looked away, focusing instead on the dozens of candles that lined the altar—their light flickering on the framed photos of Himmler and Hitler, proving this was indeed a supreme rite.
As she strode to the pews behind Anneliese and sat, she couldn’t help but think back to the naming ceremonies that took place in the Jewish Quarter of Prague. Held eight days after a child was born, the observance was a time for the family to gather together to celebrate the new life, to dedicate the child to God, and to perform the ceremony of circumcision. In the silence, she closed her eyes and imagined her father’s prayer over Anneliese’s infant….
Creator of the Universe, may it be Thy gracious will to regard and accept this naming ceremony as if I were bringing this baby before Thy glorious throne. And may Thou, in Thy abundant mercy, through Thy holy angels, give a pure and holy heart to …
The prayer in Katrine’s mind was interrupted by a baby’s cry as he was carried into the room, wrapped in a white blanket, and laid before the altar.
The man at the front spoke. “Welcome to the Geburtsfeier, the naming ceremony of the child of Officer and Frau Kaufmann. In my hands I hold this oak box, used to illustrate the thousand-year destiny of the Reich. Who presents this child for naming?”
The officer and his wife rose and strode to the front of the room. Then together they descended to their knees before Anneliese’s baby.
“We do,” they spoke in unison.
“Very good. Do you have a special prayer or blessing over this child?”
“I do,” the woman said, pulling a slip of paper from her jacket pocket. “It is a poem for such an occasion.” The woman cleared her throat and began.
“Now I live in you.
You shall and will live on
In times I will not see.
How wonderful that is!
It is as wonderful as in the old sagas,
When each tribe strove
To ensure its bloodline did not perish.
“Still, you are yet small.
How could you know
That you are a branch on a large tree!
But the day will come
When I must tell you
That not only you,
But your fathers also will be judged by your deeds.
“No, you do not yet understand that.
You dream and play throughout the day.
But when you understand,
Then I will know
That in each heartbeat in you and me
That keeps us living,
Also flows a drop of eternity.”
The woman finished, and the officer overseeing the ceremony lifted the child into his arms. “It is our greatest concern, our noblest duty, to raise these future generations for our Fatherland and our blood. It is for these generations we toil and struggle. It is for a pure race we strive.” He returned the child to his bed.
“Heil Hitler!” the officer cried.
Automatically, as she’d been trained to do, Katrine lifted her arm with the others. “Heil Hitler!”
Then, one by one, the witnesses approached the child to murmur their individual oaths. Katrine couldn’t help but ache when she looked down at the now-sleeping infant—the child Anneliese had carried but would not care for.
“I promise,” Katrine whispered to her own child that moved inside her, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, “I promise to remember your birth and make sure you have a mother who loves and cherishes you.”
After they all made their pledges and returned to their seats, the officer removed an SS dagger from the oak bo
x, raising it high above the baby. Katrine sucked in a breath. Her heart pounded as she eyed the glinting blade in the candlelight.
“In naming you today, we call you to a lifetime of service to protect and promote the Aryan blood that pumps through your veins. For the Fatherland you were born, and for the Fatherland you shall live. You shall henceforth and forevermore be known as Claus Kaufmann.”
When the ceremony ended, the couple retrieved the child and hurried out of the room to the party prepared for this occasion. Anneliese remained seated.
Katrine also remained as the others exited.
Frau Schmidt paused at her side. “We have refreshments in the dining hall. Will you join us?”
“I’ll be there in a moment. I—” Katrine paused. “I would like to meditate for a time on this glorious event.”
By the large smile that spread across Frau Schmidt’s lips, she could tell her answer pleased the director.
When the sound of Frau Schmidt’s footsteps had moved down the hall, Katrine hurried to Anneliese’s side, taking the young woman’s hands in her own. “I am so sorry. It must be difficult. I mean, after carrying a child for so long.”
A single tear trickled down Anneliese’s face. “It is not him that I cry for. It’s my daughter.”
“Your daughter?” Katrine placed a hand on her friend’s forehead, checking for a fever.
“I had twins, Katrine. A boy and a girl. At first the nurses rejoiced at such luck, and then they noticed … my daughter’s left hand. It hadn’t developed completely. Yet the rest of her was perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Anneliese’s voice drifted off.
“Where is she? In the nursery? I’m sure she is beautiful just like her mother.”
Anneliese’s shoulders began to shake. “They—they said she died in the night. Of breathing complications. But I know that isn’t so. I must leave.” She turned to Katrine, eyes wild. “They said they are going to give me an operation. To make sure I don’t have any more children. It does not matter that I gave them a perfect son. My daughter was not according to their standards. First, they took her from me. Then this.”
Anneliese rose. “I wonder where they buried her.” She rushed to the door. “Can you help me find my daughter?” Her voice took on a haunting tone. “I just pray your child is perfect, Katrine. A perfect Aryan to meet their satisfaction.”
When Katrine did not make it to dinner that evening, or breakfast the next day, Sister Clarence brought her a tray.
Katrine sat up in bed, not caring that it was noon and she was still in her nightgown.
Sister Clarence set the tray on her lap. It was Katrine’s favorite—bacon, cheese, carrots, and fresh rolls. Still her stomach lurched at the sight of the food.
“We’ve missed you, dear. Aren’t you feeling well?”
Katrine poked at a carrot with her fork. “No, it’s not that. It’s just …” She took a bite and sighed. “Sister Clarence, what are you and Sister Josephina doing here? I mean, why would you want to be in such a home?”
“When the home opened just over a year ago, I felt drawn to offer my services. Every consideration was taken for the care of these mothers, except for their spiritual welfare.” She offered a sweet smile, the wrinkles around the corners of her eyes spreading and deepening. “Since that is my area of expertise, I thought I could help.”
“You’re from this area?”
“From Soumage. Our parish is only one mile away. Most people in town still do not understand the purpose of this place. The property has many walls, ponds, woods—it’s easy to keep the true activities hidden. Himmler’s Experiment with Life—that’s what Father Fritz calls it.”
Katrine pushed the lunch tray aside and caressed her stomach. You are more than an experiment, my child.
As if reading her mind, the nun pulled up a chair next to Katrine’s bed. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I meant no condemnation. Please do not take that the wrong way.” She turned toward the window and gazed out to the grounds. “In fact, I tend to speak too liberally around you, which I should not do. It’s your purity and innocence, I imagine, that opens my lips.”
Katrine thought about her moments with Hendrick. Their closeness, the bond that continued to draw her to him, despite his faults. “Innocence. I think not. I am anything but innocent, sister.”
“Maybe you have ventured further from the path of righteousness than you’d ever imagined possible, yet I see a desire in your eyes to do what is right—for yourself and your child. If you seek truth, you will find it. Keep searching out the Scriptures as I’ve seen you do.”
“That, well … I’m not sure how much of it I believe. I mean, from a child I’ve always believed in God. It’s …”
“It’s just the Jesus part that makes you stumble?”
Katrine shook her head, suddenly realizing what the nun was implying. “I didn’t mean that. All good Christians, which I am of course, believe in Jesus. It’s only the Jews who accept God without believing the Messiah has come.” Katrine’s voice quivered, and she rose from the bed and hurried to the window.
“Katrine,” a voice behind her said. It was not the voice of Sister Clarence.
She turned. “Frau Meier. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you coming.”
“Yes, it did not appear as if you heard me. Seriously, Katrine, you need to watch your words. Especially with one of the holy order. To speak of the Jews in this honorable place is unacceptable. Apologize to Sister Clarence.”
Katrine fell to her knees before the sister, and she did not need to fake her apology. Her hands trembled as she placed them on the sister’s lap. “Sister, forgive me. Forget I ever spoke those words. They were foolish. I had turned my back on my family’s faith, and I didn’t understand what that meant until I considered my child being raised without it. Forgive me.”
“Do not ask for my forgiveness, child. It’s your heavenly Father who needs to hear those words.” Sister Clarence brushed back a strand of hair from Katrine’s cheek.
Frau Meier cleared her throat. “Fine then. Rise, Katrine. Dress and hurry to lunch. You can eat in the dining room. I refuse to let you be pampered like an ill child. We’ll give you your medical check tomorrow. You do, after all, have a baby that needs nourishment. A beautiful Aryan child.”
The foolishness of her comments hung heavy on Katrine’s mind during lunch. Unable to deal with Inge’s constant conversation, she sat down next to two new girls who both appeared to be in their late teens. They were blonde and slim, and Katrine glanced to their flat stomachs and frowned. One of the girls noted Katrine’s gaze.
“I’m Lotte, and this is my sister Gustel. This is our first night here in this beautiful place. Have you been here long?”
“Oh, four months, but it seems much longer. Maybe that is due to the fact I cannot wait for my child to be born. I have still a month to go.”
“I heard the last month is the hardest part of pregnancy—the waiting, of course. I do look forward to finding out.”
“Finding out?”
“What it’s like to be pregnant, of course.”
“You mean you aren’t already?”
Lotte broke off a piece of bread with gusto, dipping it in the gravy on her plate. “Oh, no, we’ve been chosen to come for that purpose. Didn’t you see the SS soldiers arriving this afternoon?”
“Yes.” Gustel looked to her sister and laughed. “We are eager to meet them—and to fulfill our duty for our country. Himmler is a friend of our family, you know, and he says not every young woman is given this opportunity. Most have to be pregnant first before they come, but thankfully he’s already placed so great a trust in us that we could be part of populating the New Order.”
“What more could we do for our country? Kuche, Kinder, Kirche, as the saying goes,” Lotte added.
Kitchen, children, church, Katrine repeated in her mind. What more indeed.
Hendrick stalked through the front door of the castle, making a beeline path to Frau Schmidt’s office. He strode in, n
ot bothering to knock, and saw her quickly pushing on the bookcase as one would close a door.
She turned at the sound, surprise and fear clear on her face.
“What in the world did you do to the girl?” Hendrick crossed the polished floor with quickened steps. “A request passed my desk yesterday that a psychiatrist has been requested for Katrine’s care? A psychiatrist? She was perfectly fine and healthy when I brought her here—”
“Officer, please.” Frau Schmidt faced him. She crossed her arms over her uniformed chest and moved away from the bookcase. “She hasn’t left her room in days, is convinced we’re murdering children within our walls, and is eating little … thus harming your child. Do you not think something must be done?” She emphasized her words with the toss of her hand. “Besides, it’s not as if you have need for her after she gives birth—from the papers in our files, you’ve already made that quite clear.”
Everything within Hendrick urged him to strike this woman. He’d had enough of females like her. Females who no longer knew their place. Who dared to speak to him as if he were a fool.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, then strode to the window. The peaceful setting below seemed to contradict the rage building in his chest. He sucked in a deep breath and turned his focus upon a group of young women strolling across the lawn. Anticipating where their path led, Hendrick’s gaze moved toward the fountains where a dozen young SS soldiers lounged on red and black blankets on the bright green grass, and for an instant he considered joining them.
“You’re right. She is of no consequence,” he finally stated without hint of emotion. “My wife and I plan to adopt the child once he is born.”
“He or she.” Frau Schmidt strode to his side, her eyes also surveying the scene below. A smile curled on her lips. “We can provide the opportunity for conception. And we can supply a young woman with all the material comforts available to the highly valued in our Fatherland.” She turned to him, placing a hand upon his arm, as if attempting to soften the blow. “Yet we cannot design the child. You understand, of course. Boy or girl, it is not in our control. Nor can we ensure a woman is fit to be a parent … if she’s not genetically disposed.”
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