"Stop talking about your shoes!"
"I made my way carefully to the Bismarckplatz ... Nazis everywhere . . ■. breaking into the villas ... until I finally found a taxi..."
More trucks. Anti-Jewish slogans.
Some people on the street turned away.
Others raised their right arm.
I had been living at the Adlon for six months. I was weU-known there. Not all the staff could be Nazis. Furthermore I was still an American, still good propaganda for the ruling clique.
"Come with me!" I grabbed Wanda's hand and pulled her along. I knew my way around the Adlon. We used the service elevator. I had kept my room key when I left the hotel. Wanda clung to my arm, walking on tiptoe to conceal the broken heel of her shoe.
After the war, as a G.I., I was stationed in Berlin and worked six months at the Document Center of American headquarters. Thousands of ofiBcial papers pertaining to the Third Reich and its leaders were collected there. One of the secret documents gave approximate statistics of the damage caused on the night of November ninth, 1938.
Destroyed: 815 buildings, 29 burned-out department stores, 171 private dwellings, 76 synagogues.^
Arrested: 20,000 Jews, 7 Aryans, 3 foreigners. Casualties: 36 dead, 36 injured: all Jews. One of the dead and two of the injured were Polish nationals.
"Professor Hahn arranged for an absolutely trustworthy man to take Papa to the Swiss border ..."
Wanda was sitting on my bed. I had drawn the heavy drapes but we could still hear the chanting and shouting from the street
"Papa told Franz to tell me that they would not dare do anything to me if I were with you ... for propaganda reasons ... You are quite prominent..."
"That's right."
"I am to go to Lindau. We have friends there. They will take me to Switzerland."
"Then I'll take you to Lindau in the morning."
"Yes, Papa asked if you would..."
"Naturally Til go with you. I'll also go to the American ambassador! I'll tell them that we are engaged!"
"Oh, Peter, I'm so terribly afraid..."
"You don't have to be afraid. Not at all. No one will dare to do anything. Relax, Wanda, please, calm yourself! You'll stay here with me tonight and tomorrow morning—"
The telephone rang.
Wanda screamed. "There they are!"
"Nonsense."
As I picked up the receiver I heard the soft, obsequious voice; "Hintze-Schon, Mr. Jordan. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you this late..."
"What is it?"
Wanda was standing close to me. She was shaking uncontrollably.
I shook my head and held my hand over the mouthpiece. I whispered, "Only somebody from the UFA."
Almost fainting, she fell onto the bed.
Meanwhile the embarrassed voice said, "I must speak with you." _^
"It is almost eleven." ^
"I know ..."
"I was just about to go to sleep . .."
"I'm sorry. I wouldn't have come if it had not been important."
"Come? Where are you now?'*
"In the foyer. I... I... I..."
Well, I thought!
"... I must speak to you! Ten minutes! It is about our film..."
"What's the matter with the movie?"
"There could be difficulties ..."
"Difiiculties?"
"It is possible; I said could be. Ten minutes, Mr. Jordan, please."
"All right. Wait in the American bar for me." I hung up.
"It has nothing to do with you," I said.
"Yes! Yes it has! I know it!"
"The man's name is Hintze-Schon. He works for the UFA. Something seems to be the matter with my movie. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Stay with me here!"
"Wanda, be sensible. I don't want the man to come up here. It might look suspicious if I don't go downstairs. Darling, I know how terrible all this is for you ... but you must pull yourself together, you must control yourself—or we'll never make it to Lindau."
That was effective.
"All ri^t. I'm calm. I'll try. I love you," she whispered.
I kissed her and walked to the door.
"Don't answer the telephone if it should ring. If someone knocks at the door—"
She cried out softly and terror was again in her eyes.
"No," I said.' "I think it's best I lock you in or you might become so upset that you'd run away from me."
"Deutschland, Deutschland, iiber alles, iiber alles in der Welt!"
8
The American bar was crowded. Germans and foreigners, among them several international correspondents I knew, were discussing the events of the night. The timid Hintze-Schon was waiting for me at a comer table. At the next table two men were drinking cognac. They were talking and laughing loudly. Hintze-Schon was pallid. A large glass was on his table.
A waiter arrived at the same time I did.
"What will you have, Mr. Jordan?"
"What are you drinking?" I asked the short, slight man.
"Whisky." He blushed as if I had caught him doing something forbidden.
"No alcohol for me. Bring me an orange juice."
"I'll have another double," said the pale Hintze-Schon. His left eye twitched nervously. He pulled at his collar.
I placed my room key on the table and moved closer. The men at the next table laughed. They paid no attention to us.
"What happened? Is the movie going to be called off?"
"Perhaps."
"What do you mean, perhaps?"
It was very noisy in thQ bar; no one could hear us. The atmosphere was one of agitation. The American joumal-
ists frequently entered the telephone booths. From outside the noise and yelling could still be heard.
"Mr. Jordan, I am your friend."
"I hope so."
"I really am. I'm speaking to you as your friend, confidentially. I'm saying more, much more than I should . . ."
The waiter brought the drinks. Hintze-Schon gulped his. He leaned across the table. His bad breath hit me. "She is upstairs at your suite." '^
"Who?" ^ "You know who."
"I have no idea."
"There is no time to play games. From her house she came directly to you. Don't deny it, it's useless. Somebody at the hotel here saw her and called the Gestapo. That's when they got me out of bed." Lugubriously he said, "I always have to take care of these things. If you only knew how terrible it is for me ..."
"I don't even know what you're talking about."
"You know exactly. Wanda Norden is in your suite. Her father is on his way to the border. A physicist at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute! Doing research is extremely important to the state! A man such as he simply cannot be allowed to leave the country!"
"Perhaps he's already there."
"Then he will return."
"You must think he's crazy!"
"I say he will return."
"Why should he?"
"To save his daughter's life."
I rose.
"Where are you going?"
"To call my ambassador."
"Wait!"
"Let go of me!"
"No! No!" He pulled me down. "How old are you? Seventeen! A child! You're going to call your ambassa-
dor? What can he do? Of course he'll protect you. But you are in no danger! Will your ambassador protect Fraulein Norden? No, dear friend, please believe me. I am your friend." He spoke quickly and in a whining tone. "Professor Norden is a man who knows secrets which are of the utmost importance to the state. He must not leave Germany..."
"I know what happened here tonight.'*
"That has nothing to do with it. As your friend I want to caution you! If you are hiding Fraulein Norden we have the right to take certain measures against you."
"That I'd like to see!"
"You will."
"If you are so sure why don't a few gentlemen of the Gestapo go up and fetch Fraulein Norden?"
He was silent
.
"I'D tell you why. Because they are afraid of a scandal here in the Adlon! There are still a few foreign correspondents here!"
"It makes no difference to us."
"If it doesn't why isn't the Gestapo here?"
"Because of me."
"You?"
"That's right. I really am your friend." His breath came in a foul vapor. "Suppose proceedings are instituted against you and—if you're lucky and nothing worse happens to you—you will be exchanged for a German held prisoner in America: what will happen to you? What about your UFA fihn?"
"I don't care."
"I don't believe that. When one is seventeen it does matter if one can make a comeback or not. Give me the key. Take a walk. Half an hour. Don't look at me like that. Fraulein Norden will not be harmed, I swear. Why should we want to hurt her? We merely want her father to return. We need him! Good God, what else can I say?"
"Nothing, you've said enough. And now I'm going to say something."
"What?"
"Not to you. Do you see the man over there, with the pipe? He's with United Press. The man in the tuxedo next j to him is the Berlin correspondent for Reuters. They are my friends. I'm going to tell them of the suggestion you just made me ..."
His forehead was beaded with perspiration.
"Over there are a few other journalists who work for prominent American papers. And tomorrow morning they are going to take a few photographs when Fraulein Nor-den and are leaving for Lindau." I called, "Hey, Jack!"
Jack Collins turned around.
"I've got a good story for you!"
"Be with you in a minute, Peter!" he called.
Hintze-Schon said quietly: "All right, then I'll have to see to it that the building will be canceled."
"Building?"
"The sets at the studios."
"You're lying. Nothing is being built yet!**
"Yes, they are."
"Since when?"
"Since today."
"That's a lie! We're not scheduled to start shooting until December."
He puUed out a letter. It was an official letter, complete with seals, which stated that at the request of the Minister of Propaganda the "Peter Jordan film project was to be started at the latest on November twentieth." Named v/ere , also the director and the female lead the minister had requested.
I dropped the letter on the table. Hintze-Schon put it in his pocket.
"I told you that everything depended on vou wh^n I called you. The film is fioing to be called off. Too bad. That lets the UFA off too."
"What does that mean?"
"Had the film been made you and the UFA would have been involved in the matter. You could have demanded to see Fraulem Norden daily while she was in protective custody."
"Protective custody?"
"Naturally after her father had returned she would have been released right away. The family would have been completely compensated. Any loss would have been made good." He leaned back. "All right. I've tried to make you see what is involved. If I leave here without your key two men of the Gestapo will be opening your room two minutes later with a master key. Then—"
"Then what?"
'Then your girlfriend will be on your conscience!"
He is lying. I know it. They are all lying. Fve seen the fires, the destroyed stores. But what can I do? What purpose will it serve if I continue to resist? They'll force their way in. Then I won't be able to help Wanda at all. This way, if I make the film, 111 stay in the picture. If they'll let me make it. But the minister wishes it. They'll have to let me make it I'll still be good propaganda for them. And I can make demands; I can demand to see Wanda, I can help her, protect her and her father.
What would my ambassador do? He'd take care of me but not Wanda. What about my movie? My career?
"All right, Peter. Here I am. What's cooking?" It was Jack CoUins, the reporter. When he saw my face he continued, "I'm sorry, am I disturbing you?"
I was silent
"Well, I'll see you a little later. I'll be here a while longer."
I nodded.
"Something the matter?" he said softly.
I shook my head.
"Can I help you?"
I shook my head again.
'*But you wanted to tell me a story!"
"I hav& no story to tell."
"Peter—"
"Go away," I said. "Please, go away!"
"Are you drunk?"
I shook my head.
"Hm." He gave Hintze-Schon a searching look, shrugged his shoulders and returned to the bar.
Slowly I pushed the key to my suite across the table.
"Well, at last," said Hintze-Schon.
He took the key and handed it to one of the men at the next table who had been so jolly. Both of them got up. Hintze-Schon said, "I'll take care of the bill here."
Both men left.
Hintze-Schon turned to me. "You'll go for a walk now. In fifteen minutes you can pick up your key at the desk." He grasped my unwilling hand. "I knew you would be sensible. It is best this way, believe me. Confidentially, you've just saved the girl's life. I'll see you tomorrow morning at the studios in Babelsberg. And please, don't forget. I am your friend."
I left the bar, crossed the foyer and went out into the street. The sky was still red in many places but the chanting had stopped and there were no more trucks with storm-troopers going by. I passed through the Brandenburg Gate and went into the park. The Tiergarten was dark and deserted. I tried not to think but my thoughts returned to what had taken place.
I was a despicable, weak, selfish bastard.
An hour later I returned to the Adlon. The desk clerk avoided my eyes when he handed me my key. All the lights were burning in my suite. Everything in its place. If there had been a fight it was not obvious now. Wanda's perfume still lingered in the air. Then I found the black silken shoe with its broken heel. I rang for room service and ordered whisky. "Bring me a bottle of Scotch."
up to now I had never drunk whisky, only beer, sometimes wine and had not cared much for either.
I sat in the drawing room, soda and ice before me and drank. I emptied half a bottle. The glass was in one hand and the silken shoe from Breitsprecher, its heel missing, in the other. At first the aroma of the whisky nauseated me but then I became drunk and thought that it didn't really taste that bad. Hintze-Schon had probably been correct when he said that I was just seventeen and had no idea of anythmg as yet.
Then I became sick.
After I returned from the bathroom I continued to drink and finally fell asleep on the couch. When I awoke it was day. My head ached and I felt sick. I saw the black shoe lying on the floor.
I grabbed the bottle and began to drink and again I became sick.
I went to bed and stayed there. I was too weak to get up. At midday two men of the Gestapo arrived. They told me that I was to leave Germany within twenty-four hours and showed me orders and letters to that effect. I protested. I demanded to speak to my ambassador. They permitted me to telephone.
The ambassador was already informed. He was very cool. In view of the tense political situation I had behaved in a very imprudent manner, he said, and that he was unable to do anything for me. It had been inexcusable for me to interfere in a purely German affair and to resist the arrest of this Fraulein Norden.
"But I didn't resist it! On the contrary, I—"
"Mr. Jordan, I have here on my desk the sworn statements of two Gestapo oflScials and a certain Mr. Hintze-Schon. According to them you secretly hid Fraulein Norden in your suite and resisted her arrest leaving the oflScials no other choice but to use force."
"That's not true! That's a lie!"
"Do you have any witnesses?"
"Yes, Mr. Hintze-Schon! He would not dare— ^
"According to the UFA Mr. Hintze-Schon has left on an extended trip. Mr. Jordan, in your own interest and to avoid further incidents I urge you to comply with the request of the Reichs government and to leave Germany. Good d
ay."
I called the UFA studios. Herr Hintze-Schon had left on a trip. No, he didn't leave any message for me. No, his superiors had no instructions. They regretted what had happened.
How did they know what had taken place?
"It's in the newspapers."
It was indeed. One of the two Gestapo men, who had been with me while I was telephoning, showed me the newspaper.
American Ex-Child Star Misuses German Hospitality. Revealed to Be Agent of World Jewry.
I packed my bags.
At eight-thirty that evening I left for Paris. The two Gestapo men, who had not left me for a second all day, accompanied me...
9
... as far as the French border. They were very polite," I told Natasha. It was snowing steadily. We had once more crossed the Alte Lombardsbrucke and were walking alongside the Aussenalster. Church clocks chimed.
It was one o'clock in the morning.
Natasha suddenly gripped my hand. "Did you ever hear of Wanda or her father again?"
"Yes. Two years later in 1940. At that tune many emigrants arrived in Hollywood: writers, actors, directors. One of them had been a friend of the Nordens. He did
not know that I had known them. Unsuspecting, he told what had happened. The father did return from Switzerland in an effort to save his daughter. Wanda's mother had just died of a heart attack in Zurich. Wanda and her father were sent to a concentration camp. The Nazis did not need Professor Norden any more. They had merely wanted to prevent him from making his scientific knowledge available to an enemy foreign nation. The secret project he had been engaged on had been completed without him."
"Concentration camp," said Natasha. She let go of my hand.
'The actor who told me this in Hollywood also knew that Wanda and her father had died within a short time of each other in the spring of 1940." I stopped underneath a streetlamp and pulled out my pocketflask. "Excuse me."
Natasha pushed at her glasses and said nothing.
I raised the flask and took a long drink.
Then we walked on.
"I knew what I had done in Berlin. But no ofie else did. No one reproached me. Only when I thought about it. . ."
"You drank.^
"Yes. When I was drunk I didn't think about it. Or dream about it. I drank heavily. And I rarely thought of .. . of . . . Besides, it is said that all things are forgotten in the end. I was hoping I would forget too.
The Berlin Connection Page 34
