by Bodie Thoene
“Only to my duty.” He shrugged and pointed to his armband. He was surprised by the news that Franz had married. “And so I shall remain.” His manner stiffened. “We need to have a look at your papers. A quick search only, Elisa.” He grew even more distant. “You will have to step out.”
Still smiling, Elisa obeyed. Murphy followed suit, praying that this man knew nothing about automobiles.
Otto looked over their passports. “Married to an American. You are John Murphy. And you now are Elisa Murphy.” He handed back the documents. “Just a formality.”
Murphy’s eyes met Elisa’s over the top of the car. They spoke silently of his hope that the events on the train so long ago would not be repeated. And yet the nightmare strode toward them. Sporer’s peaked cap seemed as sharp as his face and his manner.
“What have you got here, Otto?” he demanded.
Elisa had just watched him kick a man in the face.
“American passports. All in order,” Otto replied, running his hand over the hood of the Packard.
“American? Tear it apart!” Sporer slammed a fist on the Packard. Then he glanced at Elisa appreciatively. There was a hint of recognition in his pale eyes, and she looked quickly away from him, down at the wedding ring, and then at Murphy, who was fuming.
Sporer walked on to the next group of refugees who stood at a table pleading that they had family in Prague and must be let through. They were Jewish. Sporer knocked the yarmulke from the man and ordered instant silence. A small child clung to the skirts of her mother and looked up fearfully at the raging man who struck her father.
“A million little reasons . . . ” Elisa remembered her words to Murphy when he asked her why she stayed in Austria. She had forgotten them. Forgotten the face of Sporer in her dream as the dreadful death train had taken away the children to the east. “Oh, God!” She muffled a cry as Sporer shook the Jewish woman and shouted.
“We know you Jewish whores carry away jewels from the Reich! Now Austria is the Reich as well! You may not steal whatever you like from the German people! Strip her!” he shouted. “She’s got something hidden, all right!” And then he began to tear at her clothes as the little girl cried and the husband wept and stared helplessly at the ground.
Otto seemed not to notice. Elisa turned to glare at him. “I saw your mother, Otto,” she said in a low voice. She knew that Sporer would kill Theo if he was discovered. One blow would end his fragile, precious life.
“Well?” He was not interested.
The raging continued in the background as the Jewish woman screamed and Sporer shouted again. “You see what happens when you try to hide contraband from us?”
The woman was half naked now. A small bag of coins dangled between her breasts. She tried to cover herself, but she was his demonstration of the vileness of Jews. “You see! She is stealing! And so!” Sporer’s voice became almost playful. “Off you go!” He shoved her hard, and she fell to the ground weeping as her little girl gathered the torn clothes and tried to comfort her mother. Sporer booted the child and sent her sprawling as well.
Elisa wanted to shout, but she could not. Theo was a breath away from Sporer’s hobnailed boots. And after a year of beatings, he had no stamina left to withstand such abuse.
Otto seemed embarrassed now. “She was stealing.”
“If ever I see Marta again”—Elisa leveled her gaze icily on the strong, handsome Tyrolean—“shall I tell her where I saw you on the night Austria became the Reich?”
He simply stared at her. His eyes seemed vague, as though he was seeing another place besides this depot of horror. He looked toward the stripped Jewess, then at the child and the humiliated husband. “Tell her what you like,” he said bitterly. He opened the door of the Packard. “There is no way to change it. No stopping it.” He stepped aside for Elisa to get into the passenger seat. “There are those who will stay”—he looked at Sporer—“and those who will die.” He let his eyes linger not on the woman but on the little child. Then with a sad smile, he looked straight at Elisa. “And there are those who will run away.”
“Are you finished?” Elisa asked, tears brimming in her eyes.
“With you? Yes.” Otto drew himself up. “Heil Hitler,” he said bitterly.
Murphy had watched it all—heard it all—and yet,he could not believe that somehow they had passed the checkpoint without being searched. He was relieved as they drove away. Elisa turned to meet the eyes of those ragged men and women who knelt before the conquerors with their hands on their heads. She felt little joy; Otto’s accusation stung her. She had not remembered those million little reasons. And yet, even as Otto had classified her with those who ran away, she remembered that there were some still who would stay: Marta and Karl, Franz and the other Wattenbarger sons. They had welcomed the little ones as if they were welcoming the Lord Himself.
“Are you all right?” Murphy asked her as they approached the final barricade at the Czech border. It was manned by six stony-faced Czechs who looked like angels compared to men like Sporer.
“Yes.” Elisa nodded. “But not everyone will run. He was wrong about that.”
“What?” Murphy held out his hand for her passport.
She pressed the document to her heart. In a moment they would pass to safety. It would all be over. In the village they would call Anna in Prague and tell her. “Papa is alive! He’s coming home. Mother, a miracle! The hand of God has brought him back to us!”
“Passports, please.” The Czech guard stretched out a white-gloved hand. Elisa gave her folder to Murphy, who was still staring at her strangely. The guard gave the documents a cursory glance, stamped them, and handed them back. “Pity the poor souls who remain behind,” he said as he waved the Packard across the line and into Czechoslovakia.
It was over. A mile past the checkpoint, Murphy pulled the car to the shoulder of the road, and together they helped Theo out of the cramped space where he had hidden for the last two hours. Elisa sat with him and stroked his head as he slept while Murphy went to phone Anna.
Yes, it really was over. A year of agony and hope had ended for them on the very night that despair and brutality had begun for a half million others. Theo would be well again, and Elisa would tell him what she could never explain to Murphy or Thomas or her mother. They wanted her to be free and secure, out of the clutches of the evil that had taken over her homeland. They only cared about her safety. But there were others whose safety was important as well—a million others.
Marta Wattenbarger would understand. And Leah knew. Elisa would not run away to safety. She would continue to risk herself for Germany’s priceless treasures.
Elisa bent down to kiss her father’s forehead. It was warm, and his breath was even and unlabored. “You will live, Papa,” Elisa whispered. “And when I tell you why I must go back, you will understand. ‘A million little reasons,’ you will say. And you will understand.”
Digging Deeper into Vienna Prelude
The year 1936 in Austria was fraught with peril. A time when no one—regardless of race, station, background, education, or talent—felt safe. Every person was only one step away from being swept up into the nightmarish tide of evil and Hitler’s madness.
It was a time not so unlike our own contemporary world, where unfathomable horrors—such as the cataclysmic events of 9/11, the bombings of buses and cafés in Israel, the “selection” of fetuses for experimentation or abortion, the philosophy that “old people” or those emotionally or physically “damaged” are useless to society—take place. A world where all of us wonder what the purpose of suffering truly is . . . and what it would be like to live without fear or uncertainty.
And that takes us to you, dear reader. We prayed for you as we wrote this book and continue to pray as we receive your letters and hear your soul cries. No doubt you have myriad life questions of your own. Following are some questions designed to take you deeper into the answers to these questions. You may wish to delve into them on your own or share them
with a friend or a discussion group.
We hope Vienna Prelude will encourage you in your search for answers to your daily dilemmas and life situations. But most of all, we pray that you will “discover the Truth through fiction.” For we are convinced that if you seek diligently, you will find the One who holds all the answers to the universe (1 Chronicles 28:9).
Bodie & Brock Thoene
Seek . . .
Prologue
1. Have you, like Ernestine, ever longed for something that seemed out of reach? If so, what? Why was that longing so important to you?
2. How would you respond if that longing was granted? not granted?
Chapters 1–3
3. Imagine that you’ve stepped back into 1936 Austria—pre-World War II. If you had any Jewish blood in your background, how would your life differ from your life now? Explain the changes you’d have to make in your daily routine.
4. Everyone is guilty—at one time or another—of judging another person without knowing the whole story. Many in Vienna Prelude assumed Rudy Dorbransky guilty because of his image as a gambler and womanizer. Have you ever misjudged someone due to their looks, their race, or their image? In what ways?
Chapters 4–6
5. What would change in your conversations with others if you knew that someone was always listening?
6. Have you ever faced “illogical logic,” as Elisa did with the cab driver in Berlin? How did you respond?
7. What type of obstacles have you confronted in your relationships? (In Elisa’s case, she loved Thomas, yet their romance could not continue because she was a Jew and he was Aryan.) Did these roadblocks bring you closer to the other person or drive you apart? Why?
8. “Humanity was a word that was also being used less and less these days” (p. 44). Do you think this statement is true in today’s world? Why or why not?
Chapters 7–9
9. It’s evening. In exactly one hour, you must flee from your home and country . . . and you don’t know if you will ever return. If you had only a duffle bag to take with you, what items would you take? What would be most important to you—and why?
10. If you were a citizen of Nuremberg in 1933, how would you have responded to the Ten German Commandments?
11. When faced with extremely difficult situations of evil, would you agree with Elisa’s statement: “No, Papa . . . We take our souls with us. They cannot have our souls” (p. 57)? Why or why not?
12. Reflect back to a time you worried about a loved one who was late coming home. What thoughts ran through your head? Are any similar to the ones you think Frau Anna had when Theo didn’t arrive on the train? If so, which ones?
Chapters 10–14
13. Has there been a moment when you, like Elisa, have thought, “God . . . I once saw You in all the world. But the world is dark now, Lord. Full of darkness . . . Let me remember that You are here”(p. 85)? Or a time when you have wondered, Is God too high up to hear? or thought, maybe there are no miracles left (p. 96)? If so, when? How have you come to terms with that situation?
14. Have you experienced “the kindness of a stranger” (p. 115)? Describe the experience.
15. If someone told you, “[Your parent] would have been proud of you,” as Theo told Thomas, how would you feel (p. 123)? How would you respond to that person?
Chapters 15–18
16. In what way(s) has your loyalty to a person or a cause been tested?
17. Elisa shouts,“If you are God, why is this happening?” toward the heavens (p. 133). How about you? Have you ever asked that question? In what circumstances?
18. Do you believe Marta’s statement to Anna: “Though a mother might forsake her children, God will not forsake us. Yes, we love our children, and God loves us even more than that. Find comfort there”? (p. 134). Why or why not?
Chapters 19–23
19. Anna tells Elisa, “Don’t worry. Everything will turn out, you’ll see” (p. 165). Has anyone told you that? Were they right or wrong? How?
20. Have you ever loved someone you shouldn’t or wished you could love someone (as Elisa wishes she could love Franz)? What has happened since to your perspective on that love?
21. Have you, a sibling, or a child ever left home because of a disagreement or a painful situation, as Otto had to leave his home and family? If so, what happened? Has there been any reconciliation since then?
Chapters 24–27
22. If your family was in danger and you had the opportunity to flee to safety—but you’d have to leave your family behind—would you take it? Why or why not?
23. Has anyone ever accused you, as Leah accuses Elisa, of playing the “self-sufficient game” (p. 217)? In what situations? How has this game kept you distant from relationships . . . or even from yourself?
24. Have you loved and lost someone, as Elisa believes she has lost Murphy? What happened? In the long run, has this been good or bad?
Chapters 28–31
25. Thomas obeys his conscience, even when the consequences could be severe. Have you ever faced such a situation? Describe it . . . and the outcome of your actions.
26. Have you been wrongly accused in the past? Has your name been dragged through the mud (as Rudy Dorbransky’s was after his death)? How did you handle it? How has your perspective changed in the months or years since then?
27. “God, what has happened to me? The world is upside down!” (p. 274). Can you identify with Elisa’s thoughts? If so, how?
28. “Two snowflakes . . . came from the same womb . . . when the heat comes, one snowflake melts and flows . . . south. And the other . . . downward into the cold waters” (p. 278). Have you, like Otto and Franz, experienced this type of division in any relationships? If so, what drove you and the other person(s) apart?
29. Is there anything you would do differently now? What steps could you take to heal the rift?
Chapters 32–34
30. “I am doing the work of the Lord!” (p. 286). Many people and organizations say this, but how can you tell if they are really doing God’s work?
31. “God alone should have my heart” (p. 228) is a constant refrain in Vienna Prelude. Do you agree with the words of this song? Should you love God—and God only? Why or why not?
32. “Every footstep had been guided by a stronger hand than her own—even the footsteps that had taken her to the awful encounter in the Judenplatz . . . God had seen the desperate children and the evil darkness that would cover the earth. And He had provided some hope, a few small shimmering candles that illuminated a narrow path to safety. In that instant, she felt like weeping with relief. None of this was up to her. She had only to make herself available, and God would do what must be rightly done” (p. 307). In what ways can you see your life as part of a larger picture?
33. “I had to live without you before I knew how empty my life was” (Thomas, p. 311). “I had to live without you before I found how full life could be” (Elisa, p. 312). Have either of these statements been true for you? If so, how?
Chapters 35–37
34. Reread the first page of chapter 35. Imagine yourself at Dachau, surrounded by the filth, the beatings, the scarcity of food, and the death. How would you respond? Would you call out to God for mercy, as some did? Or would you curse God for your fate? Why?
35. As difficult as it is not to know the fate of the one man she has ever loved, Anna is able to “hope without knowing” (p. 328). Would you say the same thing about yourself in your life circumstances? Would others be able to see that “hope without knowing” in your life? Why or why not?
36. Have you ever told a “gentle, compassionate lie” (p. 331)? In what situation? What was the result? Would you change your course of action now if you could go back and do it all over again? If so, in what ways?
37. Evil is “judged already. The stars still move, time runs, right is still right, and there will be an end to evil one day” (p. 351). Have you chosen to believe this philosophy? Why or why not? How has your decision affected t
he way you feel about what is happening in the world today?
Chapters 38–41
38. “We all began exactly alike, like lumps of coal, maybe in different shapes and sizes. The fire and the pressure of hatred consume some men until they consume others around them in a white-hot fire. And others, trapped in the same fierce pressure and terrible heat, become diamonds to glisten in the hand of God. To shine bright when the blackness is all around, to find love when others are burning in their hatred” (p. 372). Do you agree with Theo’s statement? Why or why not? Which type are you?
39. Would you marry someone for a cause, as Elisa did Murphy? Why or why not?
40. If you could change one thing about England’s or America’s actions during this period of history, what would you change?
Chapters 42–46
41. “You must show me where to go!” (p. 433). Have you ever called out to God in desperation, begging Him for direction, as Theo did when he escaped Dachau? In what situation?
42. Think of a time in your life when all hope seemed lost . . . or dead. What shreds of light kept you going?
Chapters 47–48
43. Have you ever felt like a “young man [or woman] grown old” (p. 440)? When?
