War Girl Ursula

by Marion Kummerow

  A shudder ran down Ursula’s spine at her sister’s words. Despite having seen every kind of criminal at the prison, she still couldn’t stomach the idea of sentencing those persons to death. They were humans, after all.

  “But he tried to commit suicide. Instead of being happy that he saved them the dreadful task, the prison guards sent him straight to hospital. All of us are doing everything we can to save his life, and either no one has thought about it, or everyone is too scared to mention the fact that, well, he’s going to die anyway.” Anna gave a dark laugh, a sick kind of humor.

  “So, what will happen to him?” Ursula asked, “Will he be all right?”

  Lotte interjected, “He’ll be all right until they kill him. Honestly, what a ridiculous system. Our entire government is a sick joke!”

  The room went so silent one could hear a pin drop. One glance at Mutter’s face told Ursula it was high time for an intervention.

  Turning a pointed look upon Lotte, Ursula said, “So, tell us about Aunt Lydia and the countryside.” Aunt Lydia was Mutter’s youngest sister. At seventeen, she’d married the son of a farmer and moved with him to a god-forsaken village that even used the word village in its name. Kleindorf. Tiny village. At thirty years of age, she had turned into a robust farmer’s wife, her long, thick blonde hair braided into snails above her ears. She’d born eight children, five of whom had survived, and her answer to every problem was discipline.

  “Aunt Lydia is very strict,” Lotte complained with a pouty lower lip. “She won’t let me do anything fun.”

  “It can’t be that bad. How are our cousins?” Anna asked.

  “They are nice. I like Maria the best. She’ll turn one next month. And although Aunt Lydia hasn’t said anything, everyone can see she’s getting fat again.”

  “Charlotte Alexandra,” Mutter chided her and got up to offer Ursula a cup of tea. “Are you hungry, darling? There’s some leftover casserole in the oven.”

  “Thanks, Mutter.” Ursula grabbed a plate and sat at the table to eat her food.

  “When are you going back to Kleindorf?” Anna asked.

  Mutter flashed her eyes, indicating this was a sensitive subject.

  “I’m not going back,” Lotte stated with finality in her voice and rose from the table.

  “Lotte, we have discussed this. It’s for your own safety. The Führer has asked anyone not necessary for the war effort to leave Berlin. With those...” Mutter shot a look upwards, “annoying English aircraft, you’re better off with your aunt in the countryside.”

  Come on, Mutter. Call them bloody damn murderers, like everyone else does.

  “I said…” Lotte took a deep breath as if calming herself, “that I am not leaving. This is my home. You are my family. I hate the countryside. It’s boring there, and no one has half a brain. I need actual conversation, from someone other than a snotty child or a cud-chewing cow.”

  “Well, maybe I should come with you then. I haven’t seen Lydia and my nephews and nieces in ages. Anna and Ursula can cope on their own for a while, and I can provide some actual conversation for you,” Mutter said with a hint of a smile as she saw the look of half-masked horror on her daughter’s face.

  Anna spoke up, “That’s a great idea. You’ll both be much safer out of Berlin. And you can send us some of Aunt Lydia’s delicious cheese and ham.”

  Lotte paced the kitchen poking her tongue out at her sister behind her mother’s back. “It’s a bad idea. And I do not need to be taken care of. I’m not a child anymore.”

  Ever pragmatic, Anna did not rise to Lotte’s bait. “I’m referring to that very attitude. Not to mention your inability to keep your opinions to yourself. Do you not understand what could happen if people heard the comments you make about the Nazis and our Führer?”

  “So, am I supposed to ignore what the Nazis are doing to our country? To our people? Our country has become a place of horror. We should be fighting against the Nazis, not shutting up and looking away. Aren’t you sick and tired of seeing all those cruelties? Don’t you want it to end? Where’s your conscience?” Lotte all but shouted into the kitchen, picking up speed in her pacing.

  Her sisters and Mutter looked at one another. Ursula’s stomach clenched. She’d seen time and again what happened to criminals. And people who didn’t agree with the National Socialists were considered criminals.

  Mutter’s face paled with angst as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

  “What? Are you too frightened to hear the truth?” Lotte challenged them, pursing her lower lip.

  “Charlotte Alexandra Klausen. Do not let me hear you say that ever again. This behavior got you expelled from the Bund Deutscher Mädel two years ago, and it was only your tender age and Vater’s intervention that saved you from God knows what…” Mutter’s stare could have cut through steel as she chided her youngest daughter. “It doesn’t matter whether I agree with your political opinions or not. What matters to me is your safety. You’re sixteen now, and your father is not here to save you. If the wrong person overhears what you’re saying, you will end up in prison. Ask Ursula if you don’t believe me.”

  “Mutter,” Ursula murmured, squirming in her chair.

  “Tell your sister what happens to those who are considered political opponents,” Mutter drove home her point with a voice that allowed no protest.

  “Arrest. Torture. Prison. Possibly a death sentence,” Ursula murmured as she glanced down at her clasped hands. When she dared to look at her sister’s face, Lotte’s demeanor had changed. She still pouted, but her shoulders hunched forward and fear darkened her beautiful green eyes.

  Mutter rose and closed the distance to her youngest daughter. Ursula could see the determination on her face and wondered what would happen next.

  “It is decided. I am coming with you to the countryside. Or you are going to get yourself into serious trouble. We will leave tomorrow.”

  The tension in the kitchen settled like mist, and Ursula had difficulty breathing. Lotte would not go against her mother’s explicit wishes, or would she? After two years of living hundreds of kilometers away from Berlin with Aunt Lydia, she had grown from a child to a Backfisch, an adolescent, and a fiery one.

  But Lotte had no opportunity to answer because a harrowing, bone-chilling sound reached their ears, and it took Ursula a second or two to realize it wasn’t her sister screaming, but the air-raid sirens emitting their dreaded warning. The tension in the room snapped like a rubber band as the shrill noise filled the air, initiating an often-practiced routine.

  Ursula, Anna, and Mutter jumped to their feet, and ran for the front door, grabbing the suitcases on their way out, leaving a dumbfounded Lotte frozen in place in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Come on, Lotte!” Ursula shouted, but her sister stood motionless with eyes wide as saucers. Ursula returned to grab her arm and dragged her out of the apartment and down the stairs into the open. The street bustled with people like so many speeded-up Charlie Chaplins, hurrying along to reach the safety of the nearby Hochbunker.

  The wailing sirens blotted out all other sounds but stopped the moment Ursula and Lotte darted out of the building. Shit! Sixty seconds. We are too slow.

  “Run!” Ursula yelled with full lungs. The routine had been drilled into them so many times she could find her way with closed eyes, but it was Lotte’s first alarm, and she behaved like a headless chicken. Ursula grabbed her sister tighter and started.

  The spine-chilling drone of the approaching bombers crept into her bones, and she risked a glance up to the sky. A glowing Tannenbaum, flare bombs indicating the position where most of the bombs would be dropped, hovered in the air. It was the only light in an otherwise completely blacked-out city.

  A formation of aircraft approached the lit-up target, and Ursula estimated it would be less than a minute before they started dropping their lethal charge over Berlin. Bloody English killer pilots! Rot in hell!

  Ursula increased her pace, dragging her sister be
hind as the ground jumped beneath them from the deafening burst of a high-explosive bomb. She pushed her scarf over her mouth and nose to keep from breathing the thick air full of dust swirling from the buildings. She knew the drill. Explosive bombs first. Then the mines. Even hundreds of yards away, a person had slim chances of survival when hit by the destructive force of their detonation waves. Last came the dreaded phosphor bombs.

  Her heart hammering against her ribs, she had one goal in mind. To reach the shelter. Beside her, she could hear Lotte’s panting and feel her legs giving out. With her last ounce of strength, she hauled her sister past the safety of the bunker door. I swear to God, if I ever lay my hands on an Englishman, I’ll make him pay for this.

  Surprised at the violence of her thoughts, she stopped for a moment and bent over to catch her breath before turning to Lotte. “You all right?”

  A pale face nodded in response. Ursula tucked a wild curl behind Lotte’s ear. Her sister’s face – and probably her own – was smeared with dust. They had been the last ones to reach the Hochbunker before the doors were locked for the upcoming attack. The bunker was a huge concrete building, sufficient to host five hundred people.

  “Let’s go.” Ursula led her speechless sister to their regular place, greeting familiar faces here and there. Mutter had equipped their space with three mattresses and blankets as well as a petrol light for when the electric light failed, as it usually did many times throughout an attack.

  Lotte stood shell-shocked, and Ursula saw her eyes fill with tears. She wanted to wrap her arms around her little sister, but Mutter was faster.

  Anna and Ursula exchanged a glance. She remembered vividly how afraid she’d been the first few times. Since then, spending a night in the bunker had become nothing more than an annoying habit.

  Ursula and Anna crouched together to make room for Lotte. It would be a long night until the all clear sign was given. Ursula huddled down to sleep and touched one of Andreas’ letters that she always kept in her pocket.

  In a world of fear and darkness, Andreas’ words made her laugh, and her lips tingled with the memory of his kisses. She’d read his letter so many times she knew it by heart. A wave of sadness washed over her. Despite being his wife, she couldn’t expect to be reunited with him in the near future. Yet another sacrifice to make in this awful war.

  My beloved Ursula,

  It has been such a long time since I last saw you, but for the first time, I am relieved to be apart from you as I cannot stand to see you hurt, and it is through my own words that the hurt will be caused.

  I have asked ceaselessly for leave to return to you, but the answer was no. You know as well as I do that there is very little to be done. The war is too important and every man who can fight, must.

  Believe me, I want to leave everything behind and be with you – and one day we will. For now, my thoughts and my love have to suffice.

  I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. And I’m anxiously waiting to wrap you in my arms as my wife.

  Forever yours, Andreas

  With the assurance of his love soothing her mind, she dozed off into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, Lotte and Mutter packed their suitcases and took the tram to the train station Lehrter Bahnhof train station. The journey to Aunty Lydia’s tiny village in Lower Bavaria would take most of the day and possibly the night.

  While air raids had become normal, this one had reawakened the urgency for Lotte and her mother to leave Berlin for the relative safety of the countryside. Not only would they avoid the heavy bombing and warfare, but also any fallout from Lotte’s sharp tongue and its tendency to cause trouble.

  Anna and Ursula kissed them on the cheeks and promised to write letters every week. Then each one of them left for work. Anna to the hospital and Ursula to the prison.

  The watchman at the prison entrance greeted her, “Good morning, Fräulein Klausen.”

  “Good morning, Herr Müller, it is Frau Hermann now,” she answered with a bright smile.

  “Oh. I forgot, you got marriage leave yesterday morning,” the old man with a peg leg from the last war said. “Did you enjoy the time with your new husband? Young love…”

  Tears shot to Ursula’s eyes, and she took a deep breath to will them away. “It was a Stahlhelmtrauung. He’s somewhere in Russia fighting the enemy.”

  “I’m sorry, but you need to have faith that he’ll come back soon.” Herr Müller looked away, uncomfortable at the prospect of the young woman in front of him breaking out in tears.

  “I will.” Ursula turned to enter the gray building that always gave her the chills.

  “Wait. Officer Fischer instructed me to tell you to go straight to his office as soon as you arrived.”

  Ursula nodded and straightened her shoulders. Entering the dreadful building and summoned before her superior. How much worse could this day become?

  “Heil Hitler,” Officer Fischer greeted her. Intimidating and stern, he was the kind of man nobody had ever seen smile. His oversized mustache hung down over his mouth as though a small willow tree grew from his nostrils.

  “Heil Hitler,” Ursula uttered the words, casting her eyes downward.

  “Frau Hermann, thank you for coming to see me. Although I was beginning to think you would never turn up.” Officer Fischer’s baritone voice was monotonous, making it impossible to identify whether he was joking or not.

  Ursula was often put in this awkward position and usually gave a small unenthusiastic laugh so as not to seem rude either way. Today though, she got the impression he was trying to elevate the mood.

  “You are being transferred.”

  “Where am I going?” Ursula asked, unsurprised. Untrained personnel like her were often relocated according to the manpower needs of the different prisons. Ursula suspected the real reason was to prevent fraternizing with the prisoners. But who would want to become friends with criminals? Not her. Although some of them were kind and likable persons and Ursula had often wondered how they’d ended up in such a place.

  “Plötzensee prison,” Fischer said, hiding his eyes by leafing through the nearest pile of papers that stood like a city all over his desk. “It’s a men’s prison, but there is a small facility for women. Subversives.”

  “Subversives?” Ursula swallowed.

  “Yes.” The disgust in his voice betrayed his unreadable face. Then he sighed, “I have asked my superiors not to transfer you, but to no avail. These are bad people. The worst. Not the common criminals we have here.”

  Ursula nodded, but fear crawled like spiders over her skin.

  “These people are worse than the Jews because they have chosen to betray Führer and Fatherland. I hate the Jews as much as the next person because they come from a bad breed. It may not be the individual’s fault to be born from bad blood, but we have to extirpate them anyways, as we would extirpate a weed in our garden.” He paused to take a breath after his enthusiastic speech. “But I have to warn you. The subversives are the truly dangerous ones. You have to stay alert at all times and not let them dull your mind.” Officer Fischer’s light brown eyes gleamed in his eagerness to keep Ursula safe.

  “Understood, sir,” Ursula answered, cold shivers of unknown evil running down her spine. “Thank you for the warning.” Still, she smiled at him with her signature mask of calm and left his office with instructions to show up at her new job the next morning.

  Ursula remained lost in the labyrinth of her mind for the rest of her shift, a complex battle of emotions mirroring the war outside the prison’s walls. She prided herself on her ability to stay strong and stable throughout times of tension, but today, she felt inexplicable guilt for her constant compliance.

  Lotte had often shamed her for what she considered cowardice, but until now Ursula had ignored it. She never asked questions like her sisters did, but simply complied with what was expected of her. Duty was more important than fighting against the natural flow of society. />
  With the transfer to a prison with the worst of the worst inmates looming over her, physical strain coursed through every fiber of her body. She barely breathed as she went through her routine of unlocking and locking cell doors when bringing food or herding the women down to the courtyard during leisure hour.

  I was assigned this job to best serve my country. I am doing my duty as a German citizen. Sacrifices have to be made. Ursula repeated the words over and over in her mind. But she couldn’t silence the small voice in the back of her head, insisting that she could have opposed, could have requested work somewhere else.

  By the time Ursula returned home, she was exhausted, depressed, and lonely. Lotte’s visit had brought fun and joy during the short time she’d been with them. But it wasn’t only her little sister’s missing presence that turned the apartment into a quiet and eerie place. The absence of Mutter, who’d always held her hand over her daughters, loomed like a shadow inside the walls.

  Anna and Ursula were alone. Completely alone. At ages twenty-one and twenty-two, they’d never had to take care of themselves.

  Before she could sink deeper into her morose thoughts, the door tore open with a crash, and Anna barreled inside, her hands holding two bags.

  “I went by the grocery store and bought everything I could get with our ration cards, so we won’t have to go shopping for the rest of the week.” Anna grinned at her sister.

  Ursula’s face flushed with guilt as she stood from the couch and helped her sister store the provisions. As they finished, Anna glanced at her sister’s tired face and grabbed her by the wrist.

  “Come on, Ursula, let’s go out for a drink. Now that Mutter isn’t here.” She bobbed her eyebrows, looking as though she too could use some fun.

  The nearest watering hole was once a thriving and modern place, but with the arrival of war, it had become shabby with neglect. The effects of the diversion of any kind of construction material to the war effort could clearly be observed in the establishment.