Finally at home and in the kitchen alcove, the Levi family enjoyed coffee and cake while little Rebecca asked one question after another.
“You look different from your picture.” She stared at her father, a man she did not know, for a long moment. “You’re so brown. Does everyone turn brown when they go to Africa?” The innocent eye and the innocent question brought laughs.
Later, in their own bed in their old bedroom and in a private, emotional meeting of their bodies and minds, the years of separation slipped away in the rhythm of their lovemaking. Katherina held her husband’s lean, hardened body in a tight embrace, until the power of sleep loosened her firm hold. The young family, with Rebecca asleep nearby, finally commenced their new life together.
“By the way, my dearest,” Katherina began soon after Levi’s return, “I have the most exciting development to share with you. Professor Adelman has secured a lectureship for me at the University in Munich. I’ve been teaching in the archeology department for the last four sessions. I’m so thrilled; imagine, me teaching at the University of Munich!”
She was bubbling with delight in telling how her hard work in the dig in Palestine before the war had paid off, when so many men were called away to duty. “I was genuinely shocked and saddened to hear several of our finest young professors died in the conflict. It left holes in the teaching staff, and I was offered a job. I love what I’m doing. And now I couldn’t be happier, with you coming home safely and Rebecca taking to you so. Thank you, my dear husband.”
She kissed him, as he said, “But I didn’t do anything.”
“You survived.”
Days passed into weeks as Levi walked the woods and fields of the snowbound estate, clearing his mind and planning his future. He also reflected on how everyone had aged—how the war had imposed pain and suffering on everyone, soldier and civilian alike. Even the buildings at Kalvarianhof needed serious maintenance. He made a note to himself that when spring came he would bring the estate up to the beautiful vision of it he had known before the war.
Former German East Africa
CHAPTER 3
Tales of Beauty and Valor
In the evenings around the wooden table in the alcove, Levi regaled everyone with stories of the grandeur and mysteries East Africa: the tens of thousands of wild animals in endless savannahs; the deserts and jungles; the strange exotic tribes of people. “It’s a magnificent, other world. The endless vistas of the Serengeti plains stretch to the horizon … We crossed that vastness time and time again, Markus and I and all our comrades.” He reflected on some visual memory and then continued, “Swamps and mountain ranges … Ja, we have the Alps, but our mountains are different, steeper and higher, with so much snow.”
He stopped for a moment and then laughed, “And Queen Victoria’s gift, you know she ‘gave’ Kaiser Wilhelm Kilimanjaro, that lone mountain rising out of the landscape with its snowcapped peak. That’s something I’ll never forget. Can you imagine? She gave the Kaiser a mountain!”
He was interrupted by his mother, Freidl. “Here we are, your favorite potato soup with Maggi. You always loved Maggie in your soup.”
“He always loved Maggi in everything, Mama,” Ilsa said, smiling.
“And I still do! We never had it in Africa after the first few months.”
“Oh, my rye bread, still in the oven!” Freidl exclaimed as she scurried to open the wood-fired oven door. “Here, pass this to Levi … and the butter,” she commanded.
Bread dumplings followed, in a clear, golden-brown broth that almost floated the slab of goose breast. “Mama, you’re spoiling me!” Levi looked across to Kathi and winked. “How will my wife ever keep up with your cooking?”
“Do you want to hear about our friend Markus, in Africa?” he asked, knowing the answer. “Well, first I must tell you about my commanding officer and the amazing stories of Colonel von Vorbeck’s brilliant leadership. He led us, his hardy band of soldiers, pursuing and being pursued by the British, Belgians, Portuguese, and South Africans for the entire four and a half years of war.”
It was twenty minutes of a thrilling monologue of near disasters, brilliant victories, and clever escapes—many clever escapes from the enemy. Otto brought a pitcher of beer and refilled the glasses all around the table.
“A toast to our brave men who served: prost!” It was bittersweet for Levi, reflecting back to the many, many comrades, both white and black, buried out in the vastness of Africa, mostly in unmarked graves. Only a pile of rocks marked their final resting place—to keep the animals from digging.
“Ja, so that leads me to the exploits of Markus Mathais. Did I tell you he was awarded another Iron Cross?” Levi was enjoying the telling.
“He flew from South West Africa almost all the way to German East Africa on a dangerous, secret mission before he crashed in a rain storm. I’ve forgotten the name of the tribe of those natives who found him and took him in. They were kind, caring, gentle blacks; that’s for sure. They saved his life, nursing him back to health for almost two months, with their folk medicine. I won’t even begin to tell you what some of that medicine was made from … another time maybe.” They laughed as he took a long draft of his beer; his daughter, Rebecca, slept on the wooden bench.
“And Markus also had encounters with leopards and hyenas and other wild animals.” Levi stopped and shook his head. “He got himself pretty scratched up; I can tell you!” His little family audience, spellbound, asked, “And you, Levi?”
“Ja, well, I didn’t do much. I was with headquarters company.”
Munich
CHAPTER 4
Shock, Peace, and a November Surprise
With a bit of luck and Otto’s village contacts, Levi got a temporary job helping to finish the large aerodrome started during the war. It was at the same, grassy air field where his friend Markus had made his first solo flight. It was also the airfield where old Bavarian King Leopold III started the first Royale Bavarian Military Air Corp in 1913. This is a lucky break for me, he thought, as he trudged the mile or so back through the snowbound woods to Kalvarianhof. Most days I can walk to work!
Kalvarianhof, with its isolated location in a clearing, in former hunting grounds of royalty, seemed far away from the turmoil in the cities. Of course, the newspapers were full of the clashes of the opposing political groups, but the visceral effects of an unstable society didn’t reach to their forest home.
Civil unrest continued in most German cities, including Munich, with gangs of soldiers of one faction or another fighting each other. Surprisingly, civilian life seemed to go on as usual, with city dwellers flowing around and through the armed skirmishes.
Finally, on a spring day, April 5, 1919, the Congress of Soldiers’ and Workers’ Councils proclaimed a Communist Republic in Bavaria to great protests. Sporadic fighting still continued, even as most citizens waited to see what exactly this new form of governing would be like.
Katherina took the train into the city several days a week for her lectures at the university, and one day Levi accompanied her. His intent was to meet a former colleague from the Berlin to Bagdad company he had worked with before the war. The construction and architectural firm was located near the main train station.
“I take a street car to the university, or I walk on nice days if there are no troubles in the area,” Katherina said as the two stepped down from the train.
“So, I go this way and you that,” she pointed. “I can get away for lunch. Shall we meet at Dolmaiers?”
“Yes, noon would be fine, but be careful. Who knows what lurks around the next corner?”
“I’ll be ever alert, dearest. Don‘t worry.” They came together for a hug and parted. Levi knew well the city of his youth, but the address was new to him.
It was located in a poorer neighborhood, near the converging rail lines. As he moved along the crowded sidewalks, bustling with peddler carts selling roasted chestnuts, vegetables, pots and pans, and all manner of household goods, he also saw
a disturbing sight: soldiers and civilians with guns, milling around casually. Obviously, the military men had no officer in charge and no apparent leadership. And there on the street were his other comrades: soldiers of the Great War, veterans all, sitting on the pavement, alone or in groups of two or three, selling pencils or cigarettes from tin cups. Most wore their dress uniforms with military decorations on their chests, proving their valor.
Most disturbing of all, Levi noted, the sight of missing limbs. There were stumps of legs, empty sleeves folded up and pinned neatly, vacant stares from damaged eyes, and facial wounds that repelled. Many soldiers appeared to be shivering, shaking at times, cowering against dark memories of the war.
I’ve seen all this on the battlefield, he thought, but in Munich, on the streets? He was appalled and embarrassed. How could the government abandon these brave men and the others? What are they waiting for? His mind was reeling. Why are they reduced to begging, for God’s sake? He dug into his pocket and pulled out what he had in paper and coin. He gave it all to the men along the street.
“Thank you, my friend, for serving … for your sacrifice,” he said to each of them. My God, it’s the least I can do. Something has to be done.
He finally arrived at a coal-dust-covered building, the results of being near the rail lines. The construction and architectural company was on the second floor, and to his surprise, his old boss Herr Gustoff Liebermann met him at the door.
“Greetings, old friend, I see you survived the war!” They exchanged a hearty handshake as Liebermann ushered Levi into a small suite of offices. Piles of blueprints and hand-drawn plans for buildings, bridges, factories, and other assorted projects littered the desks and tables.
Looking around, Levi commented, “You seem to be busy enough, Herr Liebermann.”
“Ja, it looks so, but most projects are on hold because of politics … And please, drop the Herr Liebermann. It’s Gustoff to you.”
A half-empty schnapps bottle drained into two glasses as the men settled into cracked, leather chairs. After talking the war, Gustoff asked, “What have you been doing since you got home, my friend?”
“Working on the big aerodrome at the village air field. I was lucky to get the job. Now it’s done, and I’m looking for a new opportunity. I was hoping you might have something I could put my skills to.”
Gustoff swung his arm out in an arc. Only a one-armed draftsman was working, head down, at a drafting table across the room. “My nephew … he does good work, but I pay him very little. He’s also missing half a leg.” They stared a few moments at the veteran.
“There just isn’t any business for an additional man, at least not full time.” Both men looked at each other.
“Tell you what. I can hire you with half-time pay, and the other half time you spend looking for business for this company. You bring in business, you go full-time salary. What do you think?” Levi was silent a moment as Gustoff added, “With your contacts and reputation, I’ll bet you can find us a contract or two.” He was grinning broadly.
“You’ve got a deal, Gustoff.” Lunch at Dolmaier’s with Katherina became a celebration as Levi told about his new position. Levi also was animated as he told his wife about how Otto told him of a large, new estate planned beyond the woods of Kalvarianhof. “It’s for a big industrialist … one of those men who made a fortune during the war.” He was watching Katherina’s reaction.
“I know; I know. I don’t like it either, but it possibly means work.” Over the next few weeks, Levi beat the pavement in Munich, approaching companies and corporations he felt might need architectural work. No one seemed to be expanding their facilities.
“Try the government agencies,” Gustoff suggested. “They’re the only ones with real money. Ja, or the war profiteers!”
CHAPTER 5
The Coldest Hearts of the Vastly Unjust
On January 10, 1920, he Treaty of Versailles was ratified in Paris, officially ending the most dreadfully bloody war in history. News came by telephone from Levi, who was in Berlin exploring a possible government contract to rebuild several bridges across the Rhine damaged during the war.
“Ja, ja, it seems the same to me. What’s to change? that’s right, Papa; the war is finally, officially over.” Otto got to the phone first and listened intently as Levi continued. “The Reichstag has just voted on the treaty, and it passed, though many denounced it as vastly unjust and a betrayal … It puts all the blame for the war on us, and we lose our colonies … all of them, and the reparations are extreme!” Otto could hear the anguish in his son’s voice. “It’s going to bankrupt the country, Papa. It’s going to create inflation and injure almost everybody. I think there’s going to be trouble, big trouble, over this.” He reflected a moment and added, “Well, at least it ends the armistice, and the war is officially over, so we can get on with our lives.”
“Ja, but we were expecting Germany would get a fair shake, a reasonable treaty like what Wilson proposed … Even the British supported most of Wilson’s ideas. But those French, they just wanted revenge. Those exorbitant reparations!” Otto exclaimed. “How can Germany recover if it gives all its limited resources to France and Belgium and England and America?”
“You’re right. That treaty is going to cause a lot of trouble.” Silence on the line, and finally, “Ja, well, I’ll be home on the train tomorrow, till then …”
Levi did secure a contract to repair two bridges, with, surprisingly, help from the French. They wanted the bridges over the Rhine repaired for their trade ambitions, not as a gesture of friendship after the Great War. Nevertheless, it was work for Levi’s skills and good news for the family and for Gustoff.
The political unrest in Bavaria and greater Germany continued when the Prussian Monarchists seized power in a coup in March in Berlin. It lasted a short week or so, with fighting in the streets of many cities.
The national government in Weimar regained control of the old imperial capital and, at the same time, fended off the Communists, who had controlled half of Berlin at one time. In April, the extreme-right German Workers Party changed its name to the National Socialist Workers’ Party and continued its national rights agitation. All this turmoil stressed the greater portion of the German people, but at Kalvarianhof, there was happy news.
Katherina had a special surprise. “We’re going to have an addition to the family in November, darling.”
Levi was ecstatic. “With my bridge construction work on the Rhine and a new baby,” he laughed, “life is good again at Kalvarianhof!” Sweeping Kathi off her feet, he and she both smiled gaily as they swirled around in pure joy.
Former German Southwest Africa
CHAPTER 6
Violence and Silence in Africa
Meanwhile, in far off Africa, Levi’s childhood friend Captain Markus Mathais, battle scared from four long years of fighting, was soon to reunite with his family.
He served in the army with Levi in East Africa and was now on a troop ship full of vanquished veterans, all heading home.
The Conrad ranch was northeast of the capitol Windhoek. Under Allied occupation, German South West Africa was unusually quiet that day in February 1919. The armistice had been signed a few short months ago between Germany and her allies and France, Britain, Belgium, and America. His ship was due in port in two weeks.
Markus had lived in the South West Africa colony since 1909. He married Helena Conrad and had a son, Rupert, now waiting for him at their isolated ranch home northeast of Windhoek, the capitol.
Two weeks or so before Markus’s ship was to dock, his father-in-law, Tomas Conrad, was in town with two of his sons, Wolfgang and Norbert, and their house man, Petre. His other son and daughter, Michael and Christina, were on horseback out in the bush, looking for stray cattle.
Helena, his wife, still startlingly lovely with her long, light-brown hair, was home alone except for their boy, Rupert, now almost six. Their stable boy, Sambolo, was in the barn. Helena stepped back into the kitchen, ha
ving just placed flowers on the graves of her mother, Frau Conrad, dead many years, and the graves of Arnold, killed in the war, and Humboldt, taken by influenza a year ago.
She heard the horse ride up to the house and knew it was Captain Llewellyn. The war was over but the occupation by the victors continued. She felt the occupation keenly, with the presence of one South African officer who still billeted in her home. They had all tolerated him for over three years, he with his prying eyes and arrogant way.
He strolled into the ranch house, his riding boots loud on the wood floor. “Good afternoon, Helena. You look as lovely as ever today in that lavender blouse. Is there any gin left in that bottle?” He gestured toward the buffet.
“Help yourself, as you always do,” she said coldly.
“I want you to pour one for me this time,” he said. “I have something very important to tell … to offer you. Sit down.”
She was startled by his bluntness, but complied, sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs in the front parlor. He took a long draft from his gin glass and looked at her.
“I’ve been assigned the task of recommending which German individuals and families are to be deported from this district, that is, repatriated back to Germany.”
A cold chill crept over Helena.
“We’re looking for troublemakers and those who don’t cooperate with the order in this new South African Protectorate. Those who do cooperate, who are ‘friendly,’ will be given every consideration. Do you understand, Helena?”
She despised his stare.
“Will you cooperate?” he pressed.
“But we have,” she began. “We took into our home four of your soldiers. We fed and cleaned and housed you and the three others. What more could we do?” She paused to collect her thoughts. “We accepted the results of the war here in Southwest Africa. I lost my brother Arnold to this terrible war.” She rose from the chair, her voice strained. “What more could we have done?” He closed the distance between them. She pulled back slightly.
The Storm That Shook the World Page 32
