Berlin Wolf

by Mark Florida-James

  ‘Leave that, or the dog will attack!’ Peter said. The lorry driver hesitated. There must be something really valuable in there, he thought. For a brief second his greed almost overcame his fear.

  ‘Look, he already has the souvenirs of war,’ Peter said, pointing to the still visible scar from his run in with the Doberman. On queue Wolfi reared up so that he almost looked the man in the eyes. This final display of strength convinced him that for now he could do nothing and he stood up, leaving the trunk alone. Lotte stepped forward.

  ‘Obviously the only thing you respect is money,’ she said, not even attempting to hide the contempt she felt. ‘Here is the rest of the money I owe you. If you take us to a point near the border, I will pay you the same again.’

  The man scratched his untidy beard. This was not the outcome he expected. To further tempt him she added, ‘I don’t mean now. Tomorrow tonight when it is dark. About midnight would be best. I cannot go before then because I am waiting for a particular delivery, another trunk.’

  The prospect of a second trunk filled with diamonds grabbed his attention. Taking him to one side Lotte quietly dictated the arrangements and the fee.

  ‘Bayrischer Hof. Tomorrow at midnight. We will be here. Do not be late.’ Her tone was stern and threatening. He could have no doubt she would not tolerate any deviation from the plan. The lorry driver drove off, still contemplating his imminent wealth.

  Once the lorry had disappeared from view, Lotte turned to the others and said in an urgent tone, ‘Quick I’ll carry the suitcases. You two bring the trunk.’

  They did not stop to ask any questions, following her along the street a further 300 metres. Protruding from the snow Peter could just read the street name, ‘Prinzenstrasse’ on a sign at the side of the road. Lotte stopped outside a smaller and more attractive hotel, ‘The Wittelsbacher’.

  ‘Wait here!’ she said, and disappeared through the main entrance. As she vanished from sight Peter was tempted to bend down to the trunk and check Hannah was still all right. He dared not, however, as he could not take the chance of Hannah being seen. Just ten minutes later Lotte came back out through the entrance. She had a door key on a wooden fob in her hand.

  ‘Come with me,’ she said and walked off around the side of the building. At the back of the hotel was a separate chalet rented out to special guests. As soon as they were inside Peter quickly opened the trunk and helped Hannah out.

  ‘My poor darling! My little Hannah! Are you okay? Are you hurt?’ Lotte said and hugged the little girl tightly to her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Aunty,’ the little girl said, ‘I made a noise. Now I will not get any cake.’ She had recently taken to calling Lotte ‘Aunty’.

  ‘Don’t worry, darling. You were so good Aunty will buy you a whole cake shop!’ Lotte beamed, delighted her little girl was still in one piece.

  ‘I was worried about the lorry driver as soon as I saw him. Especially when Wolfi reacted to him,’ Peter said.

  ‘Me too. I thought it was all over when we entered the barracks, but clearly he is expecting a bigger payoff. That was why I directed him to the other hotel,’ Lotte replied.

  Seeing the confusion in the boy’s faces she continued: ‘It will take him a while to realise we are not there. If he thinks I am expecting another trunk, he will wait until it is safely here. That should give us a day’s start.’

  ‘Unless he heard the noise. He must have done,’ Peter replied.

  ‘Well if he did, and he recognised what it was, he will have gone straight to the police,’ Lotte added. ‘He seemed a little deaf, so maybe he really did not hear.’

  Peter and Franz were almost at the door, urging Lotte to leave immediately.

  ‘We are safer here for the moment. Even if they do house to house searches it will take them some time to find us,’ she said calmly.

  ‘And what if the people here betray us?’ Peter said. He was unwilling to trust his fate and particularly Hannah’s fate to the hands of strangers.

  ‘We will not be betrayed,’ Lotte replied. Peter was still uncertain.

  ‘They will not betray us because I grew up here. They are my family. They may not have approved of my choice of career, nor my choice of husband and my lifestyle, but they would never hand over anyone, let alone a little girl, to the Nazis. ’

  Peter and Franz looked in wonderment. This sophisticated glamorous woman, former film star and society lady had grown up in this small village. She had not even a hint of the strong Bavarian accent.

  ‘Elocution lessons,’ she said, reading their thoughts.

  Lotte’s forced arrival at her family’s home had brought an unexpected bonus. She was familiar with the mountains, though nobody knew them like her father, a former mountain guide. He would lead them across the border by one of the more difficult and least observed routes. How she wished she had swallowed her pride sooner and approached her parents for help.

  They rested in the chalet for the remainder of the day, mainly sleeping and occasionally eating. Lotte left them for about an hour and when she returned she had a treat for little Hannah. It was a small chocolate cake and a glass of milk. Rationing had not been so harsh in this area close to the Swiss border. The others were not disappointed with small bread rolls cut in half, with cheese and sausage in the middle and a slice of rye bread holding them together on the other side. This was washed down with hot soup, better than anything they had tasted in Berlin. To keep the cold at bay they had a bottle of Jägermeister, the heavily spiced liqueur, popular in the area.

  Finally the hour of their departure arrived. Peter was pleased that at long last they could move on. He trusted Lotte and her family, nevertheless he was worried the lorry driver had gone to the police. For most of the day he had kept watch at the window. Not even Franz was able to persuade him to sleep for a while.

  It was dusk, but there was sufficient light to move around when the knock came at the door. Lotte looked out through the window and confirming it was her father, walked to the door and opened it.

  Her father was a slight man, yet obviously strong and fit. His weather-beaten face glowed with health and he had the same bright blue eyes as Lotte. His grey hair was still quite thick and seemed to shimmer in the light. He was dressed for the outdoors with sturdy leather boots, warm wool trousers, an oiled wool jumper with matching hat and a waterproof coat. On his back he carried a grey canvas and leather rucksack from which dangled several lengths of hemp rope, two ice axes and sets of crampons. In his hands he carried a large canvas sack. On seeing the crampons Peter hoped they would not be necessary on the forthcoming hike.

  ‘This is my father, Jürgen,’ Lotte said. She introduced her friends one at a time. Jürgen simply nodded his head and began to remove boots and coats from his canvas bag. He was a man of few words.

  Normally Lotte and her friends did not disclose their names. It was safer that way for all concerned. This occasion was different. This was her father and these were her friends. She was proud of all of them and hoped he might in a small way be proud of her.

  ‘And this is my little Hannah,’ Lotte said. With that Hannah ran forward and taking his rough hand in her tiny fingers, pumped it up and down.

  Jürgen could not hold back a smile. ‘So this is the little girl who needs rescuing,’ he thought. ‘Put these on. We leave in five minutes,’ Lotte’s father said in a business-like manner, handing out coats and boots. ‘These mountains are dangerous, especially for city folk. Do exactly what I say, when I say and do not wander off the path.’

  In looks Jürgen was like Lotte, but not in temperament. She was the party girl, always ready with a witty comment, easy in company and with strangers. He, on the other hand, preferred to listen than to talk and only spoke when he had something that needed to be said. On this occasion his abruptness was reassuring. His manner exuded confidence and composure.

  Having quickly donned their walking gear they set off on their journey.

  ‘Why don’t you walk with me? You ca
n help me show the way.’ Jürgen smiled at Hannah who smiling back, placed her mittened hand in his and walked off without saying a word. Lotte was pleased, remembering similar experiences so many years earlier.

  As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the temperatures dropped dramatically and their breath crystallized in the freezing air. There was little light, but the partial moon reflected off the snow so that they were at least able to see their own footsteps. The silhouette of the high mountain range was imposing and impressive at the same time.

  The snow was deep in places and the effort of lifting their feet began to tell. Hannah had managed to walk some kilometres until the route began to climb steeply and Franz lifted her onto his back to carry her. Apart from Jürgen, Peter and Lotte had a rucksack each. The hated trunk had been discarded at the chalet and the two suitcases stored away. Peter had remembered the problems with Wolfi’s paws in previous winters and had protected them from ice with four pieces of cloth.

  As they ascended into the mountains Peter thought of his hiking trips with his papa. They had always intended to visit Oberstdorf with the famous Breitachklamm, the longest and deepest gorge in Europe with its beautiful waterfall. For some reason or other they had never made it this far.

  ‘One day Papa, you and I will come back here,’ Peter promised himself in silence.

  For the first few hours the weather favoured them. It was still bitterly cold, but clear and free from snow. Lotte surprised everyone in her speed and agility up the rocky path. Then they remembered she had spent her childhood in these mountains, no doubt accompanying her father on his rambles with tourists. She surprised them even more when she took one of the rucksacks from Franz and easily threw it over her shoulders. She seemed so different from the Lotte they knew who appeared so awkward in the woods of Berlin.

  Of all of them, Wolfi coped best with the terrain. He was off the lead and stayed at the front, bounding up the path, periodically stopping to wait for his pack. Even at the points where they needed to climb, he easily scrambled up the rocks.

  Their progress was gradual, if slow. The path was icy and in places treacherous, with steep drops on either side. Hannah was by now oblivious to her surroundings, having fallen asleep as she was carried by Jürgen at his insistence. Franz was now shouldering one of the three rucksacks. With each step their breathing became more laboured and noisy. Stopping for a short rest, Franz admired a high peak in the distance.

  ‘That’s the Nebelhorn,’ Lotte said. ‘Luckily we can go around it.’

  Her father beamed happily. ‘You remember the way then? You haven’t completely forgotten your roots?’

  ‘No, Papa. I have never forgotten you or Moma or these mountains,’ she replied, and placed her hand on his arm.

  It was close to midnight and they had been climbing for five hours. Their route was to take them south onto the ridge of peaks that separated Austria from Germany. Then they would turn towards the West and walk across the mountains towards the Bodensee and the Swiss border. In total it was about thirty kilometres with several thousand metres of climb. On his own, Jürgen could make the journey in a single day, weather permitting, and without a small child and his fellow travellers.

  For now they were safely out of the town and beyond the ski slopes which were most in use. He would have preferred to carry on, but reluctantly decided that they should stop for the night. As if to confirm his decision, a snow shower began and the wind picked up. He pointed to a small hole in the face of the mountain and waved to the others to follow him.

  Twenty minutes later they were in a mountain hut, a refuge for climbers, sheltering from the elements.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The mountain hut was dry and warm and pleasantly comfortable. Jürgen brewed a beef drink over a little portable stove. Hannah snoozed away in Lotte’s arms, as she and Franz slept. Peter kept guard at the door as usual, with Wolfi by his side.

  ‘Don’t worry son,’ Jürgen reassured him. ‘If anyone comes here it will not be until tomorrow morning and we will already be under way. I will get you there.’

  Peter was happier and began to relax a little. As neither he nor Jürgen were able to sleep they chatted a while. Mainly it was Peter who talked. He spoke lovingly of Lotte and all the sacrifices she had made, the people she had helped rescue, including Peter. Lotte’s father said little in response. Peter could tell he was beginning to see a different side to his daughter.

  ‘You should be very proud,’ Peter said, as he finished relating her adventures.

  ‘I am proud and always have been,’ Jürgen responded. In the darkness of the cave Lotte smiled to herself and hugged Hannah tighter.

  As soon as dawn broke, Jürgen roused everyone, including Peter who had slept for the first time in days. They wasted little time as Jürgen had prepared a breakfast of more beef tea and bread rolls. Quickly consuming the delicious beefy liquid, they hoisted the rucksacks on their backs and set off once more.

  Hannah was excited and walked to begin with. All around the snow-capped peaks, hundreds of them, glistened in the morning sunshine. In the daylight the terrain underfoot was still difficult, but less than at night time as they could see more clearly where they were going. The path was hard to discern in places as so much fresh powdery snow had fallen overnight. Without their guide they would have struggled to stay on the correct course.

  For the rest of the day they ploughed relentlessly through the snow, stopping only once at midday. At this altitude they were beyond the ski pistes and so met no-one else, not even climbers. Since the advent of the war most able-bodied men and women were otherwise occupied. As the holiday period was over there was little prospect of a chance encounter.

  * * *

  Back in Oberstdorf a furious lorry driver was standing at reception in the Bayrischer Hof. He had arrived almost ten hours early as a precaution, yet he was still too late.

  ‘You must know where they are!’ he demanded. ‘I dropped them off outside yesterday.’

  ‘I am sorry sir, no-one of that description has checked into this hotel.’ The young girl was becoming a little afraid.

  ‘There was a very pretty, young lady, blonde. She was with two sailors and she had a large trunk, about so tall.’ He held his hand out to demonstrate.

  ‘I am sorry I have not seen them,’ the receptionist repeated. The more often the young girl at reception denied that she had seen this group, the angrier he got.

  Realising at last that she was not lying, he stormed off to check all the other hotels in the village, all thirty of them. He vowed he would soon find them.

  ‘They cannot have left as she still has to collect the second trunk,’ he consoled himself.

  Only when he had indeed been to each and every hotel did he finally accept he had been tricked. He did however have a lead. At one particular hotel the owner, a middle-aged local woman, had some valuable information.

  ‘Oh yes. I remember. They left in a large black car. A woman and two young men. That’s right. They were struggling to lift both trunks into the boot. They went off on the road to Munich.’ Lotte’s mother could not help him anymore.

  As they were no longer in Oberstdorf she must be telling the truth about them, he reasoned. If he hurried he could catch them on the road.

  And so it was that as the group of friends, guided by Jürgen, made their way ever nearer to the Swiss border, the traitorous lorry driver was speeding in the wrong direction.

  A full seven hours after they had set off from the mountain hut the party stood in silence. All save Jürgen looked dejected. They were at the foot of an almost vertical slab of rock stretching for almost 100 metres. The granite was icy and damp and would be a difficult ascent, even in normal conditions. Peter had climbed a little, as had Lotte. Franz should be able to reach the top. In places there were a few iron rungs to which they could attach ropes. The problem was Wolfi. He was quite a large dog and the prospect of hauling both him and Hannah up the rock face was daunting indeed.
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br />   ‘We can’t take the normal route. It is blocked by an avalanche,’ her father explained. ‘There is a much easier route, past a checkpoint manned by soldiers. We have to climb.’

  Peter’s face fell. ‘I must find another route with Wolfi,’ he said. ‘I cannot abandon him.’

  As so often, Lotte had a solution. This was more welcome than most. ‘I can take Wolfi by the road. I have a legitimate visa and travel permit to Switzerland. I will say that the train was bombed and so I decided to cross the mountains from my home town. It should convince them as it is essentially the truth.’

  She had reverted to her original heavy Bavarian accent, demonstrating thereby how convincing she could be. Noboby hearing it would doubt that she was a local girl.

  ‘Thank you Lotte. Thank you,’ Peter said, stroking Wolfi’s head at the same time. Wolfi tilted his head to one side unsure as to what was going to happen.

  ‘Will you be able to make the climb?’ Lotte asked.

  Peter nodded keenly. Franz’s agreement was less convincing.

  ‘I will manage it Lotte, don’t worry,’ Franz replied.

  She did not need to ask her father. She knew Hannah would be safe with him. It was a climb he had made with her when she was about the same age and in the same way. She confirmed the route she must take with Wolfi and waited until they began their ascent.

  ‘Now Hannah,’ she said. ‘This is a new game we are going to play. My papa is going to strap you onto his back. You must keep your eyes closed until he tells you to open them and you must not move. I am going to take Wolfi for a walk and tomorrow we shall meet you for that chocolate cake.’

  Lotte embraced Hannah and squeezed her tightly, planting a kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile Peter said farewell to his beloved dog. Lotte hugged both Peter and Franz, urging them to be careful and to look after Hannah, then swung around to speak to her father. She hesitated, momentarily unsure as to how she should say goodbye. The split second of awkwardness vanished as he moved quickly towards her and looping his arms around her waist, held her close.