A Fight in Silence

by Melanie Metzenthin

  ‘I know that, Papa. I fear that you can confirm as much as you want but Krüger won’t accept it. And because Uncle Bruno fell in the last war, Krüger will say you’re biased. He’ll have as little faith in what you say as he did in anything Richard said.’

  A tear rolled down her cheek. ‘I don’t know what to do, Papa. It’s so obvious that Krüger wants to take his revenge on Richard through our children, but I can’t just take Georg out of hospital in his condition. Yes, I could treat him at home, but Krüger will have the Gesundheitspolizei on my back because Georg is still infectious.’

  ‘Unless he can be discharged in the usual way.’

  ‘But he’s only been in hospital for three weeks. We both know that with this kind of infection it’s four weeks of strict bed rest. He’s still on an antitoxin and only people with up-to-date inoculations are allowed on the infection ward. No doctor in his right mind would discharge him early.’

  ‘So we’ve got to ride it out for a week.’

  ‘Yes, a whole week at the mercy of that brute. A week when it would be so easy for Krüger to see through our hard-of-hearing story. And who knows whether even then he’ll let Georg come home. He might put him straight on the sterilisation list.’

  ‘Nothing can happen that quickly, Paula. He has to get parental consent and you can find ways of stalling. Even if it comes to anything more, carrying out a sterilisation procedure on a child who has only just recovered from diphtheria would carry a significant risk. On top of that, Paula, he’s only nine. You could play for time by giving official agreement but only when he’s fourteen.’

  ‘That’s assuming a rational conversation with Krüger. With him it’s not about applying the law but maliciously getting his own back on Richard. This is a man who has sent dozens of sick people to their deaths. If anything gets in his way, he’ll simply quote the section of the law that says the head of an institution makes the decisions regarding sterilisations.’

  Now the tears really flowed. Her father put his arms around her and held her close. They didn’t speak and Paula’s tears soon soaked the front of her father’s shirt.

  ‘Perhaps he needs some other problems to take his mind off Georg,’ said her father eventually, breaking the silence.

  Paula raised her head. ‘What do you mean, Papa?’

  ‘Hard times can drive any of us to a few dirty tricks. You know how Krüger denounced Richard to the Gestapo.’

  ‘I’ll never, ever forget that. I was so frightened for Richard.’

  ‘Now we need to think something up, some malicious accusation, and then report him to the Gestapo anonymously. By the time he gets all that sorted out, Georg will be back home, safely discharged.’

  ‘Papa, that’s . . .’

  ‘Evil, underhand and unlike me?’ he said, smiling at her.

  ‘No, I wanted to say that’s ingenious!’ She laughed. ‘But it is, of course, also evil, underhand and unlike you in normal circumstances.’

  ‘So we’re agreed! All we need now is some credible accusation that’ll get Krüger into real trouble.’

  ‘That’s tricky. He’s such a pillar of the party.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean anything. We could hang something on him about homosexual activity, along the lines of what happened to Ernst Röhm. That’s enough to ruin any Nazi.’

  ‘Papa, I admire your imaginative powers, but isn’t that a teeny bit far-fetched?’

  ‘Why do you say that? Is he married?’

  ‘No idea,’ admitted Paula. ‘I must confess I don’t know anything about his private life.’

  ‘That makes it more difficult.’

  They both thought hard.

  Paula had an idea. ‘How about the black market? We could say he’s secretly selling hospital supplies on the black market and so hospital medicines are falling into the hands of enemies of the state.’

  ‘That would keep him tied up for a week while they check stocks of all the medical supplies. Unless someone’s already been helping themselves, of course. Have you still got someone there you could trust to “relocate” something so that it takes a while to find it?’

  ‘No, but we don’t really need all that. Just a whiff of scandal like that around him will give him a bad week.’

  ‘Good, so tomorrow I’ll deliver an anonymous report on him to the Gestapo. Meanwhile, you can visit Georg every day and make sure he’s discharged as soon as he’s allowed.’

  Visits to the children’s ward were normally only permitted on Wednesdays and Sundays, but because Paula had worked on the infection ward and still knew a few of the staff, she was allowed to see Georg outside visiting hours. She brought a tiny bag of toffees for him and Horst but advised them to hide the sweets from the nurses. Then she explained to Georg that he must continue to try and conceal his deafness from Krüger.

  ‘If he wants to examine you, Georg, you must cry and tell him you’ve got a sore throat and a bad headache,’ she told him. ‘Don’t cooperate with him, just whine and grizzle as much as you can. For a sick child, that’s not a strange thing to do. Be quietly naughty – that’s allowed!’

  ‘Can I be naughty as well?’ asked Horst.

  ‘Yes, but don’t take it too far! Just do it enough to stop Krüger doing anything straight away, so that he has to leave it all for the time being. He mustn’t see that it’s pretend. That’s very important!’

  ‘Mama, what’ll happen if he realises I’m deaf?’

  Paula hesitated. How was she going to explain the Law for the Prevention of Progeny with Hereditary Diseases to a nine-year-old?

  ‘Dr Krüger believes that people who can’t hear will have children who can’t hear either, and he wants to wipe out deafness. He would carry out an operation to stop you ever being a father.’

  ‘But Fräulein Felber’s mother is deaf and Fräulein Felber can hear perfectly.’

  ‘Exactly, and Dr Krüger is an idiot, but that doesn’t stop him having the power to do these things and to push through his horrible opinions. And this is not only to do with you – he will make out that Emilia would pass on deafness to her children.’

  ‘But Emilia can hear perfectly too.’

  ‘As I said, Dr Krüger is an idiot – but a dangerous, scary idiot,’ Paula said with a sigh.

  ‘A real villain,’ said Horst.

  ‘Yes, a real villain, and a powerful villain at that. But you two can outfox him if you’re really cunning and clever. Do everything to stop him being able to examine Georg. You only need to prevent it for one week and then everything will be all right.’

  After his mother had gone, Georg spent a long time thinking about what she had said. He’d never thought about having his own children once he was a grown-up. And he certainly hadn’t thought about whether they’d be able to hear or not. His deafness had never really been so important. Of course, it was often hard not to hear everything that was going on, but it had some advantages too, like not hearing all the air raids that Emilia and Horst had to endure. Why couldn’t this stupid doctor leave him in peace?

  Krüger didn’t make an appearance until the ward round on the following day, when, one by one, he had a look at every child, a gaggle of nurses and young medics trailing in his wake. He didn’t spend long on Horst but when he came to Georg’s bed he pulled up a chair and sat down.

  ‘How are you?’ he asked Georg, looking him straight in the eye.

  ‘I’ve got a sore throat and a headache,’ replied Georg, mindful of his mother’s warning. ‘And I feel sick.’

  ‘So, you’re feeling sick. Are you going to vomit?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good. I’ve brought you something.’ From the pocket of his white coat he took a small bell. ‘I’d like to establish how severely hard of hearing you are. Sister Elfriede will ring the bell behind your back and you must tell me when you hear it.’

  ‘I feel sick,’ said Georg again. ‘I’ve got a headache.’

  ‘Sister Elfriede, you can start.’

  ‘I feel
so sick,’ groaned Georg.

  ‘Pull yourself together! Tell me when you hear the bell.’

  Georg noticed how Horst leaned forward very slightly. A barely perceptible wink.

  ‘It rang,’ he said. Do your worst, he thought to himself.

  Krüger registered surprise. ‘Correct.’

  ‘I feel so sick. Can’t we stop now?’

  ‘No, again.’

  Just then, Georg noticed Horst sticking his finger down his throat and vomiting copiously all over Krüger’s back.

  ‘Ugh!’ roared Krüger, shooting out of his chair. ‘Why didn’t you ask for the bowl?’ He stripped off his soiled white coat and let it drop to the floor.

  ‘I feel so sick too,’ groaned Horst.

  The sight of the vomit combined with its smell made Georg’s own tummy rebel. Almost immediately, he vomited all over his bed.

  Krüger was almost beside himself now. ‘Sister Elfriede, clear up this mess. And I need a fresh coat.’ He left the room.

  Georg noticed the ghost of a smile flit across Sister Elfriede’s face as she stripped off his bedding and took it to the laundry bin.

  ‘That was really disgusting,’ said Georg.

  ‘Yes, I had to force it,’ admitted Horst. ‘But hard times serve to make us stronger is what my grandma always says.’ He rummaged inside the drawer of his bedside chest for the toffees they’d stowed away and fished out two.

  ‘To take away the vile taste,’ he said to Georg, handing him one and putting the other in his own mouth.

  The following night there was another air-raid warning. Georg realised this when he saw Horst creep right down under the bedclothes, and this meant, of course, that he couldn’t see him to talk. He guessed a lot of the children were whimpering, some crying out in fear as memories of the bombing of Rothenburgsort flooded back. The nurses dashed frantically between the rows of beds, threatening ‘jabs’ for those who couldn’t be quiet. This was the most shocking sight of all – trusted adults showing their own fear. Cracks began to appear in Georg’s safe world, and in his faith that grown-ups could always protect it. He longed for his mother and sister.

  When Paula came to visit the following day she heard from Sister Elfriede how Georg and Horst had thwarted all Krüger’s attempts at examination.

  ‘I think the boys were quite right,’ said Elfriede. ‘Dr Krüger homed in on Georg straight away. We must make sure he’s discharged as soon as possible. His test results are very good now, and I’ve already spoken to Dr Braun about him. He feels we could let him go as early as Thursday, as long as you can personally nurse him once he’s home.’

  Paula was so relieved. ‘Thank you, Sister Elfriede!’ Dr Braun was one of her previous colleagues from her year at the children’s hospital. He was a kindly, rather retiring man, never one to push himself forward, dedicated to the welfare of his little patients. ‘I just hope Krüger will leave the boy in peace now.’

  ‘I hear he has a few other problems at the moment. Did you know he’s suspected of sequestering medical supplies to sell on the black market?’

  ‘Good heavens! That’s monstrous!’

  ‘He claims it’s all malicious slander, of course, but that doesn’t alter the fact that he’s now got to account for every single item of stock. He’s been freed from all other duties to get it done and Dr Braun is now in charge of the infection ward instead.’

  ‘But do you think it’s true? Has Krüger really been selling to the black market?’

  ‘Who knows? The man’s obsessed with his own career, always plays his cards close to his chest, so I think he’d do anything for personal gain.’

  Paula’s anxiety eased just a little. Once more, evil had passed her by. She decided, however, not to let Georg spend his convalescence at home in their flat. They would sit it out at his grandparents’ allotment again. She assumed that Krüger would never suspect where they were so, hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to set the Gesundheitspolizei on them. All she had to do now was wait for Thursday, so she occupied her time with packing for herself and the children and preparing for Georg’s return. She decided to write an absence note for Emilia, saying she wasn’t well and would be off school until the start of the summer holidays. Emilia was delighted.

  ‘Will Horst be out soon too?’ she asked.

  ‘A couple of days later, I think.’

  ‘Maybe he could get fully well at his grandma’s! Mama, could you talk to her about it?’

  ‘No, Horst is going to be at his parents’ flat first of all. That’s the best thing for any sick child. To be honest, I wouldn’t be taking Georg to the allotment in normal circumstances.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because he’s still in a weak state and needs lots of nursing and we have no proper bathroom there. But I don’t want anyone to know where we are. It wouldn’t occur to anyone that we’d take a seriously ill child straight from hospital to stay at the allotment gardens.’

  Emilia looked puzzled, but Paula was so tired after the worry of the last few weeks that she didn’t have the mental energy to explain it to her.

  ‘It would be lovely if you could help me with the packing. Georg will explain everything to you when he’s back.’

  On Thursday Georg was discharged, as promised.

  ‘It’s still a bit too soon,’ Dr Braun cautioned her kindly. ‘But you’re one of us and you know what needs doing for him. I’ve got medicine here for him until Monday, and then you’ll need a fresh prescription.’ He handed her the little paper bag and Georg’s discharge papers.

  ‘Thank you so much, Dr Braun. You can’t imagine how grateful I am.’

  ‘I think I probably can. To be honest, not all of us are behind what Dr Krüger represents, although very few have the courage to protest. I know what happened to your husband and I admire his courage. I’d have been too frightened of the consequences to do the same.’

  ‘You’re doing all you can. Nobody can expect more than that.’

  With that, Paula took Georg to the car. His legs were still wobbly, but he was so pleased his allotment garden life could continue.

  That night there was heavy bombing again, and Paula was relieved she didn’t have to bundle the children down into the cellar, as she would have had to if they’d been at home. As usual, Georg and Emilia watched from the small window as the anti-aircraft searchlights latched on to so many aircraft. But a lot of bombs hit their target and soon there was a different kind of light – the glow of fires burning.

  ‘There’re more planes all the time!’ exclaimed Emilia. ‘They’re like giant insects! We need a huge fly swatter to bring down three at a time!’

  Paula said nothing. She too was looking out of the window but with unease, not fascination. The fiercest fires were blazing exactly in the location of their flat.

  The next day her unease turned into sickening certainty. A bomb had hit their block and destroyed it. All residents, thinking themselves safe in the cellar, were now dead. Paula shuddered as she realised that she and the children owed their lives to the malicious Dr Krüger . . .

  Chapter 43

  Tobruk was a disappointment and its capture had cost effort and lives. Although Richard had his own dedicated psychiatric work, the surgeons still needed his help. In the days leading up to the fall of Tobruk, Fritz constantly pushed himself and often worked fourteen hours at a stretch.

  ‘You can’t go on driving yourself so hard,’ Richard kept warning his friend. Fritz would brush all this off. ‘What’s a couple of hours of lost sleep if you can save a life?’

  ‘Yes, but if you collapse you won’t be helping anyone at all.’

  ‘Don’t worry, that won’t happen. When Tobruk falls to us, everything’ll go back to normal.’

  Fritz had rather hoped that Tobruk would be on the scale of Tripoli, but as they entered the city they realised that wasn’t the case. It was simply a little port bordered by a handful of houses, with even fewer small shops, empty of all stock, and some abandoned storage shed
s. Not even Walter, with his magnificent talent for organisation, could make anything of this. They had no choice but to wait for the supply ships to come from Italy.

  The supply convoy arrived a couple of days later. At last there was enough to eat, even some beer, and the long-awaited military post.

  While Fritz opened his to find a new photo of his wife and children with their beloved Rudi, Richard was struck by the Göttingen postmark on his letter from Paula. What on earth was she doing there? He ripped open the envelope.

  My dearest Richard

  I don’t know whether you ever got my last letter? We haven’t heard from you for a long time. I don’t want to bore you with the same information, but in case my last note never arrived, you need to know we were bombed out at the end of June. We were fortunate because we were at your parents’ allotment, but all our old neighbours were in the cellar at home and were killed in the raid. It’s an absolute tragedy. You’d never recognise our street now. Our block has been completely destroyed and the nearby buildings look somehow like the rotting teeth of a giant and are all at risk of collapse.

  Soon after Whitsun, Georg was in hospital with diphtheria, the hospital got bombed and all the children were moved to Langenhorn. Georg caught Krüger’s attention and I’ve done everything possible to keep him out of the man’s clutches. I’ll tell you about it properly when we’re together again.

  After we were bombed out, I thought long and hard about what to do. I could have moved in with your parents or my father, but Krüger was threatening us with the health police, the Gesundheitspolizei. My father still has connections from his time in Göttingen and so was able to contact Professor Ewald. As a result, I’m now working as a doctor at the Göttingen-Rosdorf asylum. We’re very lucky to have found lodgings with a nice widowed lady whose son is at the Front. It’s near my work and we rent two rooms from her. Frau Heiroth is so kind to the children, especially when I’m out. There’s no special school for Georg, unfortunately, but I’ve made enquiries and have found him a private tutor who comes here three times a week. On top of that, he gets to do the same exercises as Emilia as she brings them home from school. I’ve also managed to get him excused from the Hitler Youth by using the documentation attesting to his impaired hearing being a result of birth trauma.