A Fight in Silence

by Melanie Metzenthin

  ‘You’re right,’ said Dr Morgenstern. ‘An indiscriminate sense of compassion is not appropriate, but then neither is a complete lack of compassion. What the former has in excess, the latter is woefully lacking. And learning to balance these out is part and parcel of our professional development.’

  Richard listened to this exchange with interest. Was it his imagination, or had Dr Morgenstern just discreetly rebuked Dr Krüger? He looked hard at Krüger and saw that his lips were now pursed in anger.

  ‘Yes, it was an error,’ acknowledged Richard. ‘I was convinced I was doing the right thing because that’s what I wanted to believe. It will never happen again.’

  Dr Morgenstern contradicted him. ‘Yes, it will. It’ll happen again at some point. It would be a bad thing for it not to happen again. We can’t do our work without a sense of trust. And it takes professional experience to weigh up with comparative certainty when trust is to be brought to bear, and when not.’

  ‘Where there is any doubt, I trust no one,’ said Krüger. ‘And if we look at Herbert’s case, this unwarranted trust brought unnecessary risk to a number of innocent bystanders. He failed to settle his bill and involved harmless pub-goers in a brawl.’

  ‘I read the police report,’ retorted Richard. ‘It’s true that Herbert failed to pay and someone confronted him and one thing led to another. But who actually started the fight is unclear. These so-called harmless pub-goers were not the ones who reported him, which makes me suspect that they themselves started the fight.’

  ‘The fact is that this would never have occurred, had you not been taken in by this lunatic.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right, and I’m extremely sorry, but I can’t undo what’s happened. I can only try to do better in future.’

  Richard’s admission merely irritated Krüger, while Dr Morgenstern gave a little smile.

  Chapter 15

  Over the next few months Richard became increasingly confident in dealing with his patients. At the same time he developed a strong aversion to his colleague Krüger, who considered it a waste of time trying to understand the minds of the mentally ill and simply responded to any bad behaviour with disciplinary measures. Richard quickly realised that Dr Morgenstern also viewed Krüger’s approach with some scepticism, but Krüger did not let this bother him and threw his energy into making his mark with the success that his methods undoubtedly showed. For a while Richard was tempted to wage a quiet war against him, but decided against it. He would rather expend his energy on his patients than on feuds of that kind.

  The men in the secure unit were often bored so Richard put his mind to the idea of establishing some simple forms of work on the wards, rather like in prison, where men would make paper bags with glue and paper. He put forward his idea to Kurt Hansen, who had no objections at all, so together they started to plan. One week later they had a concrete proposal to put to Dr Morgenstern. Every morning for three hours the games room on the ward would now be turned into a workroom. Soon a good proportion of the men were busy sticking the bags with an unexpected enthusiasm, but the disadvantage was that patients who were not able to work with that level of concentration felt excluded. Richard couldn’t think what to offer these men as an alternative until, one evening when he was talking it over with Paula, she reminded him of Professor Habermann’s lecture, where they’d met. ‘How about letting them draw pictures? If the psychiatrists in Heidelberg can do it, so can you.’

  ‘I don’t think Kurt will be too keen. The paint would make a horrible mess on the ward.’

  ‘Yes, but you don’t need to give them ink or watercolours. What about coloured pencils or wax crayons?’

  ‘That’s a real possibility.’ Richard was grateful for the idea and spoke to Kurt Hansen the very next day. Convinced by Richard’s infectious enthusiasm, Kurt made arrangements to bring in all the necessary materials. Wax crayons turned out to be too expensive and the patients could do a fair bit of mischief with them, so Hansen went for coloured pencils.

  Dr Morgenstern and the senior consultant, Dr Sierau, were quite taken with Richard’s commitment and urged colleagues to take a look at what he’d managed to achieve in such a short time. Even Krüger, never one to stray into the secure unit, was among the visitors.

  ‘Making paper bags isn’t a bad idea in itself,’ he said, ‘but handing the mentally ill high-quality paper and expensive pencils only to have them ruined’—here he held up a pencil that had been snapped in half and then sharpened at both ends—‘doesn’t seem particularly productive to me. Do you actually believe the world has been waiting for scrawls like these?’

  ‘The French are earning a lot of money at the moment with work by the Cubists, you know, so I thought our patients could do a bit of Cubist work too. Why should people spend a lot of money on paintings by some Frenchman when German pieces of work can be acquired instead? Especially if the pictures are painted by men who can’t do anything else, freeing up the more productive chaps so they can work. And as we’re more efficient, the art dealers will bite our hands off, you mark my words.’

  Krüger looked at Richard with a mixture of irritation and anger. ‘You’re not serious, surely?’

  Richard laughed. ‘And you have no idea about art, surely?’

  ‘Do you really believe someone will buy this scrawl?’

  ‘No. Which is why I said you have no idea about art, otherwise you’d have known I was being ironic.’

  ‘This project is a total waste of time and money.’

  ‘Nothing that brings people joy is wasted. You can’t put a price on joy and happiness.’

  Krüger harrumphed with disdain then left.

  At the beginning of September 1929, Richard’s father invited his son, together with Paula and her father, to meet him at home. He said it was to discuss urgent business.

  It was different from the usual family gathering, as this time it was Margit’s husband, Holger, who had called everyone together. He addressed the group.

  ‘As you all know, I keep a close eye on the economic situation worldwide. There are a few things I’ve noticed. The stock markets have been rumbling for a good year. The fact that we were able to give you the car for your wedding was a result of that. Its original owner had made a few miscalculations and had to sell it off at less than its value. But I fear this is only the beginning. At the New York Stock Exchange, rates are constantly falling. It’s all going to go belly-up at some point, I’m pretty sure of that. As soon as that happens, the Americans will call in their war loans to the English and the French, who will in turn have to recoup their losses by demanding the Versailles reparations from us in order to pay off their own debts. We could make repayments only through new loans, but if the banks fail, then there can be no loans, everything will collapse and we’ll have another 1923. Cash won’t be worth the paper it’s printed on.’

  Richard cut in here. ‘But what about the Young Plan that’s being negotiated in France at the moment? That’s likely to fix the debt repayment, isn’t it? Even if it does mean the debt won’t be paid off until I’m eighty-seven.’ His tone was bitter.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on that,’ replied Holger. ‘As I said, it’s very like the situation back in 1923. And we must see to it that we make sensible investments in case inflation returns.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ asked Paula’s father.

  ‘Before the last period of inflation we bought that large piece of forestry land beyond the city boundary. That’s what’s now supplying us with our wood. We’ve made no losses to speak of and have come through the hard times unscathed. Land always holds its value. On top of that, it means we always have the raw material for our work. I’ve noticed that the woodland next to ours is for sale. The current owner can’t afford the land tax any more. I’d like us to make the purchase, but we don’t have enough liquid assets. Wilhelm, I wanted to ask whether you would contribute – as our business partner, you might say. Then we can make use of the wood ourselves or sell it. Or rent out the land. The
advantage is that woodland holds its value. Unlike property, there’s no rental bond to pay and trees don’t deteriorate. The longer they stay standing, the more valuable they are.’ Holger smiled at the thought.

  ‘And how much would I need to put in?’

  ‘We’re short of seven thousand marks.’

  ‘That’s a tidy sum. How much time have I got to think about it?’

  ‘We’ve got a week.’

  Richard could see his father-in-law doing the sums in his head.

  ‘All right, then,’ said Dr Engelhardt after a while. ‘I’m with you, provided my name appears in the land registry as a stakeholder.’

  ‘Consider it done,’ said Richard’s father. ‘That’ll apply both to the registration and the valuation of the wood. There are only two safe investments at the moment – land and precious metals. I’d always go for land – at least it can’t be stolen.’

  ‘At worst, they can impose state levies like forced mortgages, as they did during the last inflationary period, but we would still have the land,’ added Dr Engelhardt.

  Holger nodded in full agreement. ‘And that’s why we’re buying 73 hectares at 316 marks per hectare. In an emergency we could sell enough land to pay off any forced mortgage, if it came to it.’

  Paula’s father silently ran through the figures again. ‘So I’m in with about twenty-two hectares?’

  ‘That’s it,’ said Holger. ‘The owner urgently needs to sell, but I can only push through that price per hectare if we buy all of the land, and on our side we have only sixteen thousand marks.’

  ‘Only sixteen thousand marks?’ Paula’s father chuckled quietly. ‘What’s that old saying about a trade in hand finds gold in every land?’

  ‘We’re doing all right,’ said Richard’s father, ‘but you’ve always known we’re not exactly poor.’

  ‘Certainly since you suggested the car as a wedding present,’ conceded Paula’s father. ‘As I’ve said, count me in. Feel free to prepare the papers for me to sign over the next few days, and I’ll transfer you the money.’

  Less than a month later, after Holger had completed the land purchase, it was clear that he’d once again found a way to get them through hard times. On 24 October 1929, the New York Stock Exchange collapsed, resulting in a severe economic crisis for Germany too. Businesses couldn’t cover their costs, exports declined and countless people became unemployed. With the onset of winter, there were more beggars on the street than in recent years. Whole families were unable to pay their rent and became homeless. Soup kitchens and charitable food supplies struggled to meet the need.

  Thanks to Holger’s foresight, Richard’s family remained untouched by the crisis, by and large, and the same went for Paula’s father. In addition, Richard had advised Fritz to spend the cash that he and Dorothea had saved and so he bought a car, his father adding a couple of hundred to help out.

  ‘Best way to blow your funds before they’re worthless!’ Fritz was beaming with delight as he showed his new Opel 10/40 PS to Richard. ‘It can do eighty-five kilometres an hour.’

  ‘It’s really sleek. Great choice! So is Dorothea going to get her licence now?’ Paula had passed her test three months earlier.

  ‘Dorothea’s not quite as modern as your wife. She enjoys me chauffeuring her!’

  ‘Oh yes, Paula likes that too. But it’s important she can drive herself if she has to.’

  ‘In case you want to take a nap next time you go to Italy?’ Fritz smiled broadly at his friend.

  ‘Something like that,’ Richard said, smiling back.

  ‘Let’s hope fuel stays affordable. At least in our line of work, we don’t need to worry. Professor Wehmeyer thinks I’ll qualify soon as a specialist and can be considered for a senior position if Dr Winkler feels he’s ready to step down next year.’

  ‘You’re climbing the ladder fast!’

  ‘It’s important to me. I think what convinced Professor Wehmeyer is that night I saved the life of a suicide case. Isn’t he in your care now, over at the Langenhorn?’

  ‘Oh, you mean Heinrich Ahlers, the one who shot himself in the head after losing all his money in the crash?’

  ‘That’s him. Wasn’t an easy operation, and at one point we didn’t think he was going to pull through.’

  ‘A case like that leaves me wondering if it really was a blessing for him that you’re such an outstanding surgeon. He’s paralysed down one side and his personality has completely changed. I don’t think he’ll ever move on from the secure unit.’

  ‘Am I supposed to have let him die?’

  ‘No, of course not. I’m just saying how it is. Sometimes modern medicine can be a curse too.’

  ‘Maybe,’ conceded Fritz, ‘but I’d do the same again. I’d have clutched at each and every straw available if it had meant saving Gottlieb, even though he was severely deformed and would never have led a normal life. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.’

  This was the first time since Gottlieb’s burial that Fritz had spoken his son’s name.

  ‘If it had been your son, what would you have done?’

  ‘The same as you. I thought you’d know that.’

  Fritz nodded weakly. ‘Yes, I do.’ He let out a sigh. ‘Dorothea’s afraid of having another child. She’s scared another one could have a similar abnormality.’

  ‘But that’s highly improbable.’

  ‘I know, but the fear’s there.’

  ‘Are you afraid too?’

  ‘No. I’ve made a careful study of academic papers on this malformation. There are no indications of anything hereditary, nor any descriptions of more than one deformity of this type occurring within the same family. But that doesn’t change Dorothea’s mind about saying no to a second pregnancy.’ He sighed once more. ‘So, we’re getting a dog soon.’

  Richard’s jaw dropped. ‘A dog?’

  Fritz laughed. ‘You should see your face! Is that so absurd?’

  ‘As a child substitute? Yes, somehow it is.’

  ‘I’d like a German shepherd, but Dorothea’s keen on a dachshund.’

  ‘So, a dachshund it is?’

  ‘You know me too well, Richard! But joking aside, Doro just needs more time, and a dachshund’s ideal. On the one hand, it’ll appeal to Doro’s maternal instinct, and on the other, her husband can fool himself into believing he’s got a true hunting dog.’

  ‘You’ll be trudging through the woods with the dachsie after foxes, then?’

  ‘No, I’ll be strolling by the Alster with him and Dorothea. Typical German family – man, wife, dachsie.’

  They laughed at the picture this conjured up, and Richard was relieved to see his friend hadn’t lost his sense of humour, in spite of the tragedy he’d suffered.

  Meanwhile, the consequences of the economic crisis were making themselves felt in the asylum. Funds were short and the first casualty was the art therapy in the secure unit. The menus became less interesting, but thanks to their institution’s self-sufficiency they were still more varied than in many other hospitals.

  The economic crisis was a constant topic of conversation for the doctors and nurses, and not only because of the financial restrictions placed on them. Cases like that of Heinrich Ahlers were no longer the exception, even if most failed suicides were in far better physical shape than he was.

  The issue of prevented suicide brought controversy to many a medical discussion. Richard and Dr Morgenstern took the view that every suicide should be prevented because it was not possible to determine at the outset whether the case was a desperate panic reaction or a rational suicide. Dr Krüger, however, was of the opinion that anyone who had lost everything in the economic crisis and had independently taken stock of his life should neither be prevented from ending it, nor be placed on an equal footing with a madman and locked up for the rest of his days.

  ‘Where would we be if a man were no longer permitted to go down the route of a rational suicide but instead was forced to live the miserable life of
a beggar?’ This was Krüger over lunch one day in the canteen. ‘Everyone must have the right to decide their own fate.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Richard, ‘but how can we know whether the deed was done after mature consideration? And what’s to lose if, after a failed suicide attempt, someone has the opportunity to think about whether there might be other solutions?’

  ‘Like Ahlers, who has turned into a dribbling idiot because his wife didn’t have the decency to let him die?’

  ‘Oh yes, if only he’d had the decency to carry on and face life instead of taking refuge in death and leaving his family alone with all those debts, it would never have happened,’ bit back Richard. ‘Family men who end it because they’ve lost all their money are irresponsible and cowardly. A decent man in that position doesn’t put a bullet in his head but tries his hardest to find other ways of supporting his family.’

  ‘And in suicide cases the life insurance companies won’t pay out,’ said Dr Morgenstern. ‘Otherwise, I could perhaps understand it as the final loving and caring thing to do.’

  ‘And how on earth does it help the Ahlers when the head of their family is an idiot living permanently in an asylum?’ Krüger was still enraged. ‘Is he supposed to take his idiocy to the fair and appear in the freak show to earn something? He will now cost the nation huge sums of money year after year, and all because a completely senseless operation has preserved the ruin that his life has become.’

  ‘So who are you blaming now? The wife? The surgeon? Or Ahlers himself, for being a bad shot when he put that pistol to his temple?’ Richard replied angrily. ‘Fortunately, cases like Ahlers’ are rare exceptions. How about looking at Joachim Kleinfeld? His case is the exact opposite of Ahlers’.’

  Kleinfeld was another who had lost everything in the crash and then tried to hang himself. His twelve-year-old son had found him in the attic and cut him down just in time. Because he wouldn’t talk about his suicidal thoughts, he had been placed in the secure unit. Here Richard had taken particular care of him and in just a few weeks had helped the man get back the courage to face life and his family responsibilities.