A Fight in Silence

by Melanie Metzenthin

  ‘No, none. Many thanks, Dr Hellmer, sir.’ Liedecke stood up. Before he could hold out his hand, Richard raised his right arm, clicked his heels and said, ‘Heil Hitler.’ Liedecke swiftly collected himself and returned the greeting.

  Once Richard was outside the door, he calmed himself with some deep breaths. His acting had been second-rate, he thought to himself, but how fortunate that this official had fallen for it. Then he found himself wondering why he’d really been summoned – Liedecke hadn’t said a word. Richard couldn’t shake off the idea that Krüger was behind it. Krüger, who liked to know so much about his colleagues and had rebuked him only a few weeks ago for not having his patients say ‘Heil Hitler’. And did Krüger know about Schär? He couldn’t say with any certainty, and the concern lingered. He decided, however, to be much more careful from now on, when it came to his own safety and that of his family.

  Chapter 30

  ‘You should stop coming here, my dear Frau Hellmer. You know it puts us both more than halfway to prison,’ Dr Stamm reminded her.

  Paula noticed how much he had aged in the last few months.

  ‘Who could possibly stop me, sentimental woman that I am, from visiting my old boss from time to time and bringing my children along?’ She gave him a comforting smile. Dr Stamm was still her own children’s doctor, in spite of the fact that he was no longer allowed to treat Aryan patients. Paula still relied on his advice and was able to get any of his recommended prescriptions made up for them by Fritz’s father, a registered general doctor working in private practice.

  ‘My work as a doctor comes to an end on 1 October in any case.’ Dr Stamm sighed. ‘A letter came yesterday saying that any certificate of appointment held by a Jewish doctor will lapse by 30 September. But provided we’re not dispossessed, we can survive.’

  Paula didn’t know what to say. When she thought about it, though, and given everything that had been happening, she wasn’t so surprised. For the first time, she felt happy that Leonie and her father had gone to Switzerland when they did.

  ‘Have you ever thought of leaving our country?’

  ‘An old tree shouldn’t be uprooted. I’ve been a patriot all my life and have put my heart and soul into my work as a doctor. First, they take away my fatherland and in the end my profession. But I’ll get by somehow.’

  ‘I’ll carry on visiting you,’ Paula promised.

  ‘Only if it doesn’t put you at risk, Frau Hellmer; otherwise, I could never forgive myself.’

  ‘And I could never forgive myself if I didn’t stand by the people who mean something to me. And you’re one of them, whether you like it or not.’

  Was she imagining it or were there tears in the elderly doctor’s eyes?

  That evening she told Richard the sad news. He took it in without a word.

  ‘Haven’t you got anything to say about it?’ she asked him.

  ‘I don’t know what to say any more. Sometimes, I envy Fritz. He at least tries to enjoy the brighter side of the new Germany. He told me that in September they’re going on a cruise with the KdF, that Strength through Joy organisation. They’ve booked a cabin on the Wilhelm Gustloff.’

  ‘The children will love it. Why haven’t we been on any KdF cruises?’

  ‘I don’t care for that kind of group activity, you know, when they’re all promoting “Strength through Joy”.’ He made a face. ‘I’d rather have a couple of days in Haffkrug or Travemünde. Besides which, I have no desire to spend my holiday having to watch everything I say and playing at being the staunch national comrade.’

  Paula sighed. Since Richard had been called before the Gestapo the previous year, he had changed. Even though he’d very deftly slipped the noose and had never heard from them again, he’d lost part of his natural optimism. In the meantime, he had found out for sure that it was Krüger who’d informed on him because Dr Harms had told him of a conversation he’d overheard between Krüger and Kleinschmidt. The pair had been greatly amused to note how amenable Hellmer had become since their call to the Gestapo and the resulting summons.

  Previously, Richard had approached his work with real passion, always inspired by his desire to help people and make everything better. But ever since the supposedly deserving party comrade Dr Krüger had taken over the lead consultant role and become Richard’s superior, things had changed. Resources intended for the good of the people were no longer to be squandered on ‘inferior beings’ and it was hard for him to get anything at all for his patients. In the past, Richard had always been able to rely on Dr Harms, but he had handed in his notice and started a new post in Brandenburg following a vehement disagreement with Krüger a few weeks previously.

  All this gnawed away at Richard and since Harms’ resignation he had seriously been considering applying to the asylum at Lüneberg, simply to escape the poisonous atmosphere at Langenhorn. Sadly, there wasn’t a suitable school there for Georg, so Richard gritted his teeth and hoped for better times ahead.

  In August it was time for the twins to start school. Emilia joined the reception class at the local school in Rothenburgsort, only a short walk from home, while Paula took Georg to the deaf and dumb school in Bürgerweide, accompanying him herself in the early weeks until she felt sure he could do the tram journey alone.

  For the twins it was a major adjustment to be separated from each other for several hours a day and to make new friends. Georg was disappointed that his best friend, Horst, had started school with Emilia and not with him, but after a few days at the new school, he managed to put these concerns aside because for the first time in his life he was with children of his own age who couldn’t hear either. It was a new experience for him to be understood immediately whenever he used sign language without first having to explain that he couldn’t hear. On top of that, he soon became a favourite of the teaching staff because his speech was so good and he was often used as an example for the others. At first, Georg enjoyed being in this position but he soon realised that there were disadvantages, as he suffered the jealousy and aggression of those who couldn’t speak and who begrudged him his special place.

  Richard felt a strong empathy with his son during this period in their lives because it so much reminded him of his time at university. As the academically gifted son of a carpenter, he had found there were plenty of students from wealthy homes who held his social class against him. At the same time he always remembered what Schär had once said to Paula – that deaf people have to make a choice and decide whether to belong to the world of the hearing or to the world of the deaf mute. So he encouraged his son not to be put off by jealous children, telling him he was better than them in every respect.

  ‘But what do I do if they beat me up?’ asked Georg one evening. ‘Willi has threatened to give me a thrashing.’

  ‘When he starts to do that, you’ve got to punch him as hard as you can, right on the nose.’

  ‘Richard, shouldn’t you be advising him to go to his teacher?’ Paula sounded reproachful.

  ‘He’s tried that already, but it doesn’t help if Willi’s lying in wait for him on the way to school, and you can’t be there with him all the time. So if someone goes for you, Georg, you hit them back, hard as you can.’ Richard took a cushion off the sofa and held it up in front of him. ‘Now, show me how hard you can thump it.’

  Georg punched the cushion with his fist.

  ‘Not hard enough! You want to thump him, not stroke him. Have another go!’

  Georg laughed and did it again.

  By now Emilia had joined them. ‘Can I do it too?’

  ‘Good, yes, off you go!’

  Emilia punched the cushion.

  ‘That’s a good punch, Emilia. You could be a boxer.’

  ‘Or thrash Willi if he does anything to Georg.’ Emilia giggled.

  Paula intervened. ‘Richard, do you really think violence is a solution?’

  ‘No, but I believe in self-defence. Come on, Georg. Have another go!’

  When Willi threatened
Georg again the following day, Georg addressed him in sign language. ‘OK then, you get first go, but I’m ready. And I’m warning you, I did boxing with my dad yesterday.’

  Willi hesitated and Georg noticed how his own fear vanished.

  ‘What’s up?’ Georg asked. ‘Are you scared? It’s just as well; otherwise, I’d be showing you how a real boxer does it.’ He raised his fists and Willi stepped back.

  ‘I’m not going to talk to you any more, you stupid swot,’ signed Willi, and walked off. That day he started to spread the rumour that Georg’s dad was a real boxer and was teaching his son how to do it.

  When Georg related all this to his father, Richard laughed but said it wasn’t right to make too much of a fool of Willi and that he’d better let everyone know the truth.

  ‘If a young hooligan like Willi is scared of you, that’s a good thing, Georg. Any deterrent that helps avoid a fight is always better than actually having the fight.’

  ‘So is telling a lie allowed?’ piped up Emilia, listening intently next to her brother.

  ‘If by telling a lie you can prevent someone from doing something bad, then that’s all right, yes. Telling lies is only bad if you do it deliberately to harm other people or to disadvantage others who don’t deserve it.’

  In the background came Paula’s voice. ‘You seem to have a rather casual approach to the truth!’

  ‘Yes,’ he said without hesitation. ‘But in times like this, it’s vital.’ Paula picked up the hidden message but Emilia and Georg just laughed, unaware of the full implications of their father’s remark.

  Chapter 31

  Friday 1 September 1939

  ‘So glad you could come, colleague Hellmer. Please do take a seat.’ Krüger indicated the chair in front of his desk. Richard paused before doing so. Krüger’s warm welcome made him wary.

  ‘Your assessment skills are well known to me, and this is why you’re just the right man for a new assignment.’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘It’s about registration of our patients in the context of the economic plan. You, with your wide-ranging competence in preparing expert statements, are ideally suited to the job.’

  Krüger’s arrogant smile confirmed what Richard suspected. A thankless, burdensome task to be delegated to the most unpopular colleague. In some ways, it made him angry but he could also see that it might be another chance to avoid reprisals against his patients.

  ‘What exactly is this registration?’

  ‘The state would like a survey that registers all the mentally ill and feeble-minded who have lived in the asylum for more than five years, or who are no longer employable, or who can be considered only for the simplest of tasks. Your job is to complete a registration form for every single patient, giving the individual’s capacity for productivity.’

  Richard immediately wondered whether this new set of expert statements had something to do with the food stamps and petrol coupons that had come in for the first time on Monday, all stamped with today’s date. A week ago Paula had got hold of as many provisions as she could lay her hands on, while he himself had filled up the car, as well as two spare petrol cans. Far worse than the fuel shortage, though, was the growing threat of war. Were rations going to be reduced even further for the sick and unproductive if war came?

  He put these worrying thoughts out of his mind and asked a question instead. ‘And what are the consequences for patients of this classification exercise?’

  ‘You needn’t trouble yourself with that. That’s the job of the state.’

  Before Richard could respond, there was a loud knock on the door. It was Krüger’s secretary, Frau Handeloh.

  ‘Dr Krüger, sir, you must switch on your wireless!’ she cried.

  Krüger was clearly irritated at the intrusion, but as it was so out of character for his normally restrained secretary, he immediately did as she asked. Richard glanced at his watch. Ten fifteen.

  ‘Overnight Poland has for the first time opened fire on our own territory using regular soldiers.’ Hitler’s voice rasped through the ether. ‘Since 5.45 fire has been returned. From now on any bomb will be repaid with a bomb. He who fights with poison will receive poison gas in return. He who does not abide by the rules of humane warfare should expect the same from us. I will wage war in the same way against anyone, and for however long is required, in order to guarantee the security of the empire and of its rights.’

  ‘We’re at war!’ Frau Handeloh sounded very agitated. ‘But everyone said it wouldn’t come to this!’

  ‘You’re surprised?’ Richard was amazed at how calm he felt. Instead of leaping to his feet and screaming out his frustration and hatred of the government, he felt like a detached observer. ‘So why did you think petrol coupons were handed out on Monday?’

  ‘All the more important now that we get on with our duties,’ said Krüger, casting a warning look in Richard’s direction. ‘The resources of our people must be fairly distributed in these difficult times. You understand, I hope, how much depends on your future work, colleague Hellmer?’

  Richard nodded. ‘I understand perfectly and will carry out this work with the utmost conscientiousness.’

  Krüger gave a pompous little nod of the head that Richard knew meant he could now leave the room. He rang Paula without delay.

  ‘Have you just heard the radio?’

  ‘Yes, Frau Walter next door rang our bell to tell me to listen. I can’t believe it, Richard. I know we’ve feared it, but did we really believe it could happen? Do you think it’ll stay as a conflict with Poland? Or . . . or will the English get involved now?’

  ‘I have no idea, but it doesn’t look good. Krüger has just told me that from now on I have to assess all our patients for their “capacity for productivity”. The government’s providing registration forms and I’m expected to separate out those who can no longer do any productive work or who’ve been at the asylum for more than five years.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘My guess is to curtail food rations. Krüger was very cagey about it.’

  ‘What’ll you do?’

  ‘Follow my conscience. Krüger wants to humiliate me with this tedious work but what he doesn’t realise is that it gives me a degree of power. I’ll have to wait and see what these forms look like, then I’ll know how much room for manoeuvre there is. By the way, it would be an idea if you could get out today and buy everything you can find that doesn’t need food stamps or petrol coupons. We don’t know what the supply situation’s going to be in the next few weeks.’

  ‘Yes, Frau Walter was saying the same. I’ll go now, before the children get home from school.’

  Richard finished work early that day to go and fill up the car again. There was already a long queue for the pump. When it was his turn, the attendant first asked for his coupon.

  He handed it over and waited while the man filled the tank for him. One tank lasted him a week but had just cost him a whole month’s ration.

  ‘This old girl’s in good nick,’ said the attendant, taking a look at the vehicle. ‘Adler Standard 6. You don’t see many of those now. What’s the year – 1928?’

  ‘Actually, it’s 1927,’ said Richard. ‘It never lets me down. Even took me over the Alps.’

  ‘My brother-in-law would give you good money for a car like that.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’m totally dependent on it,’ he said, before paying the man and driving home.

  That evening he phoned Fritz.

  ‘How are you getting on with the petrol rationing?’ he asked.

  ‘I take the tram to work and save the fuel for the weekends. Dorothea thinks I should sell the car but it’s ten years old, and if rationing goes on, I’ll never get rid of it and won’t have any fuel either. What about you?’

  ‘I can’t do without it. You know how bad the tram connections are out to Langenhorn. It’d add an hour to the day every morning and then again in the evening.’

  ‘But will your ration let you g
o on driving there every day?’

  ‘No, I’ll get through it in just a week,’ replied Richard.

  ‘I could let you have my winter coupon,’ suggested Fritz straight away. ‘Doro and I don’t go away at the weekends at that time of year.’

  ‘Would you really do that?’

  ‘Gives me a good reason to hang on to the car! I’ll say to Doro, No car, no coupon.’ He chuckled.

  ‘So you’re definitely not going to sell it?’

  ‘No, because who knows when I could ever afford another one! Maybe I’m being pessimistic. Maybe this nightmare will be over in a couple of weeks.’

  ‘That’s what everyone said in 1914.’ Richard’s voice had a bitter edge to it.

  At first, Fritz said nothing, but Richard sensed that his friend had something he wanted to say. Finally, Fritz said, ‘Let’s not look on the dark side, Richard. Come round for a beer tomorrow – at least that’s not rationed – and then I can give you the coupon and one of my spare cans. I’ll ask around a bit to see if anyone else wants to sell coupons. That’ll keep you going for a while, won’t it?’

  ‘Now that’s a real friend,’ said Richard, laughing. ‘Sharing his last drop of fuel!’

  ‘Hey, at least we won’t need to share our last shirt – the army will be providing them soon enough.’

  ‘Fritz, you don’t seriously think people in our position will be called up?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know the situation for psychiatrists but we surgeons are in demand. Professor Wehmeyer said only this morning that he’s expecting the call-up for military doctors to start at any moment. I won’t be volunteering, of course, but lots of my younger colleagues see it differently and think it’s a way of advancing their careers. Ah well, as long as there are enough volunteers, nobody’ll think of calling us up. Let’s leave it like this – you’re coming round for a beer tomorrow and we’ll drink to this war being over by Christmas, not like back in 1914.’