The small church was a relatively new and plain building, unlike the ostentatious Berlin Cathedral that was reminiscent of the glorious times in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
The plain transparent altar windows, probably replacements for damaged stained glass, let plenty of sunlight inside. But despite the light and the warm air outside, she wrapped her scarf tighter around her shoulders.
Apart from two elderly women praying in the first bench, the church was empty. Ursula looked around, trying to find Pfarrer Bernau. He might not even be here. She could have waited for him at the prison but was too anxious to discuss such delicate matters at her workplace.
A sign at the entrance to the sacristy told her he was hearing confessions. Ursula turned around and noticed the confessional booth on the left side of the nave. She grabbed her scarf tighter and walked over to the wooden booth. As soon as an elderly lady vacated the penitent’s seat with a rosary in her hands, Ursula slipped inside and knelt down. Her heart was hammering against her chest.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” she said with a trembling voice.
“Don’t be afraid to confess. God forgives those who repent.” Ursula recognized the warm and caring voice of Pfarrer Bernau. She clasped her hands together. This was a lot more enervating than she had expected. “Please continue, my child.”
“I found a man who is wanted by the authorities,” Ursula whispered. “He was injured, and I couldn’t leave him to die, so I hid him in my home. Only now I fear someone will find out, and I will be condemned too. I need to find a way to get him to a safe place.”
It was a few seconds before the priest responded as if he were contemplating her words. “That is a very unusual sin. May I ask your name, please?”
“Err, it’s Hermann. Ursula Hermann.” Her feet wanted to dart out, but she forced herself to stay kneeling in the confessional booth.
“Yes, I thought as much.” The seconds dragged on without a sound to be heard. Ursula clasped her hands upon the wooden board beneath the screen, holding on for dear life. “Can you be trusted?”
What a question. Here she was, confessing to one of the deadly sins in the Party’s book and he asked her whether she was trustworthy.
“Yes, of course!” Ursula responded, nodding her head in emphasis.
“I would be interested in meeting this man. But it needs to be done very discreetly, do you understand?”
Ursula nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”
She gave him her address, and he promised to visit in the evening to discuss further details. Ursula spent the day at work vacillating between hope, fear, and excitement. After her shift, she hurried back home and arrived at her building at the same time as the priest.
They walked up to the third floor side by side, talking about the weather and the difficulties in securing enough rations. When Ursula stopped to unlock her door, she heard the familiar click of Frau Weber’s peephole, and seconds later, the neighbor’s door opened.
“Guten Abend, Ursula,” the plump woman on the cusp of old age greeted her, unashamedly eyeballing the priest. “Who is coming to visit?”
“I’m Pfarrer Bernau,” answered the priest, saving Ursula from having to answer. “I’m here to discuss the details for holding a memorial service for Frau Hermann’s late husband.”
“Really? He’s been gone an awfully long time,” the neighbor said, apparently not convinced.
“Frau...” Pfarrer Bernau searched the door plate for her name, “Weber. There is no fixed time to grieve. Everyone mourns in a different way.”
“It’s just that strange things are going on behind that door. I could have sworn I heard a male voice the other day.” The suspicion in Frau Weber’s voice sent chills down Ursula’s spine.
“Thank you for being vigilant, Frau Weber, but I’m sure there is no need to worry.” He turned to Ursula. “Or is there, Frau Hermann?”
She lifted her chin. “No. My sister and I are honorable women, we wouldn’t invite a man into our place.” The lie came so naturally to her lips, Ursula surprised herself.
The neighbor shot her a doubtful glance, but returned to her own apartment and locked the door.
Ursula fumbled with the keys for what seemed like hours before she finally pushed her door open. Pfarrer Bernau followed her through the apartment, and she knocked on Tom’s door.
“Enter,” a soft voice said. Tom was sitting at the small desk and looked up from the letter he was writing with his usual bright smile. But the charming smile was replaced by an expression of alarm the instant he saw the man behind Ursula. Within a split-second, he’d changed from the kind man to a dangerous panther on the prowl.
Ursula actually liked that trait of his, as it showed how much he was ready to take control of the situation. A warm feeling seeped into her body. It had been such a long time since she’d been able to lean on another person. For more than eight months, she and Anna had been on their own.
“It’s all right,” she assured him and stepped aside to let the priest enter the room. “This is Pfarrer Bernau.”
Tom’s face showed a multitude of expressions. Shock. Disbelief. Relaxation.
Pfarrer Bernau’s face mirrored the same emotions. Then he stepped forward and extended his hand. “Aren’t you the English airman who was accused of espionage?”
“Yes. Captain Tom Westlake. I wanted to thank you. Our conversation in the prison gave me renewed hope and strength. Although I never would have expected this…” Tom made a grand gesture of pointing at the room and the persons present.
“Me neither.” The priest showed a half smile. “It’s rare enough for a prisoner to escape, but this? God must have great plans for you.”
Neither Tom nor Ursula was particularly religious, and they both cast their eyes to the floor.
“Pfarrer Bernau is here because he may be able to help you.” Ursula kept staring downwards as she uttered the words. She’d been silent for so many years, hadn’t ever opposed a rule decreed by the Nazis. She’d never questioned the rightness of Hitler’s doings, and the very thought of working against her country caused her stomach to revolt.
Her entire belief system had been shattered, and she longed for moral guidance. If breaking the law could be right, what was wrong? Who decided what was allowed and what wasn’t? Who was the enemy, if her own government did things as heinous as the Nazis were doing?
Ursula wished someone, anyone, would tell her what to do. But looking into the eyes of Tom and Pfarrer Bernau, she realized that it was her decision alone to decide what was the right thing to do. It was somehow liberating, but also incredibly scary.
“Is that true?” Tom’s hopeful voice stopped her train of thought. His face lit up, and she could read in it his hope and his desire to live. She admired the way he pushed his lower jaw forward, as it showed his unwavering determination.
“I may help, but your case is quite different to what I am used to. We have set up a network of people willing to hide German Jews until we have found a way for them to escape, but you…there aren’t many people willing to help an Englishman. Every family has lost a member or a friend in this awful war, and emotions are running high.” The priest looked pointedly at the blackout curtains. “And your compatriots remind us almost every night about the consequences of war.”
“I understand.” Tom ran a hand through his dark hair. “You are right. Your compatriots have every reason to hate me. I love flying, and I’m proud to be a member of the Royal Air Force. I never hesitated one moment to join up and fight for my country. Although I certainly don’t enjoy killing people…” He paused a moment, and his gaze became empty. Ursula thought she saw a trace of pain – remorse? – but it was washed over in an instant. “This is war. There’s no real choice. I, and so many others, couldn’t let Hitler trample over our country, subduing our people like he has done with so many others.”
Silence penetrated the room, as they each hung onto their own thoughts.
War really was a dirty affair, and nobody would come out unscathed. Not the winners and certainly not the losers.
Pfarrer Bernau broke the silence first. “I will see what I can do. There might be a way to get you out of the country, but there are no guarantees. It will be a dangerous and strenuous undertaking. Are you willing to go through with it?”
Tom nodded. “I’ll do anything it takes to get back home.” His eyes lingered a moment on Ursula, and she felt herself blush. “It’s in everyone’s best interests that I leave this place as soon as possible.”
“Not so fast, my son. You need to keep your feet still and lie low for a few more days until I have arranged the details and organized papers for you,” Pfarrer Bernau said and produced a camera from his bag. “Look straight into the camera and don’t smile.”
Tom did as he was told, and minutes later, the priest bid his goodbyes.
Ursula showed him to the door. “Thank you, Father.”
“Don’t contact me, except in an emergency, and never in the prison. You understand?”
Ursula nodded.
“And one more thing, that neighbor of yours might cause a problem. Don’t give her any reason to be suspicious.”
Ursula sighed. The nosy Frau Weber had caused more than one problem in the past years.
Chapter 13
A couple of days later, the phone rang, and Ursula stared at the black instrument with surprise. It hardly ever rang.
“Ursula Hermann,” she said into the earpiece.
“This is your mother.”
Ursula almost dropped the receiver. Mutter hadn’t called a single time since she left with Lotte for the countryside. She always said the cost of a long-distance call was much too high, and the money could better be spent elsewhere. What had changed her mind?
“Are you alright, Mutter?” Ursula asked and put her finger to her lips as she saw Tom coming out of his room.
“I am fine, thank you. How are you and Anna? We have heard troubling news about the Englishman–” Ursula paled and dropped the receiver to her lap. She struggled to put it to her ear again. “Ursula? Are you still there? What was that noise?”
“Sorry, Mutter, but I clumsily dropped the earpiece,” Ursula answered for lack of a better response.
Her mother sighed into the phone. “I hope you didn’t break anything. But that confirms me in my decision.”
“What decision?” Ursula had difficulties concentrating on the conversation as part of her mind was occupied as it frantically searched for clues to how her mother could have gotten news about Tom.
“To return to Berlin.”
“You want to come home?”
“Yes. Home. To make sure everything is in order with you and Anna.”
“We are fine,” Ursula protested weakly.
“Well, as I said, we have heard so much troubling news about the Englishman intensifying their attacks over Berlin, I’m worried about my daughters.”
Ursula wanted to jump up and embrace the world, until she remembered that her mother wanted to come home. To the same place her daughters were hiding one of those hated Englishmen. “But what about Lotte?”
“Lotte is fine with my sister, and I have the impression you two need me more. Besides, my presence has done nothing to make her watch her step. At least she has made a friend with a girl from the next town and seems to be much happier now.”
“But Mutter, you’re much safer in the countryside.” Ursula tried in vain to keep the panic out of her voice. She could see it in Tom’s alarmed eyes as he poked his head into the living room again. She gestured for him to keep quiet, but he lingered in the doorframe, seemingly concerned about her state of agitation.
“Nonsense. I have to be where I am needed most,” Mutter said with a voice that wouldn’t brook any argument.
“But Mutter,” Ursula insisted, “wouldn’t Lotte miss you? It must be a great comfort to her having you near.”
A chuckle came through the line. “You should know quite well that Lotte would be nothing but joyful at my leaving, one less pair of eyes to watch over her.” Her mother paused for a moment and then startled Ursula with her question. “What are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing, Mutter,” Ursula answered too fast and too determined.
“Well, in that case, I will make travel arrangements. Tell Anna for me, darling.”
The phone line buzzed, and Ursula remained in a complete state of shock. For how long, she didn’t know. A hand touched her shoulder, and she spun around to look into Tom’s green eyes, filled with worry.
“I didn’t mean to listen, but you sounded so upset. Bad news?” His soft voice eased the tension in her body, and she had the urge to lean against him, to borrow his strength and forget all her sorrows in his embrace.
She took a step away from him. “Yes and no. That was my mother, she’s returning to Berlin tomorrow night.”
Tom looked slightly puzzled, and Ursula explained. “She lives here, and she would never approve of a man in the house, enemy or friend.”
“Oh.” Understanding lit Tom’s eyes. “In this case, I will disappear tonight. I don’t want to cause you more trouble than I already have.”
Ursula could see the fear in his eyes, because out there in his – although washed and mended – prisoner uniform, he wouldn’t go undiscovered for long. She appreciated his generous offer to put himself at risk so she wouldn’t get into hot water with her mother. But the thought of Tom in the hands of the Gestapo – she was sure that was what awaited him – tore her heart apart.
“No. No. I will ask Pfarrer Bernau first. Maybe he has an idea. Promise you will still be here when I return from work?”
“I promise,” he said, putting two fingers across his heart.
For a moment, Ursula thought he’d kiss her, but that, of course, was just her imagination.
She turned on her heels and left to find Pfarrer Bernau. Once she arrived at the chapel, she strode straight in and knocked on the door of his private quarters. To Ursula’s relief, the priest was home.
“Frau Hermann, what is the meaning of this unexpected visit?” Pfarrer Bernau said, worry etched into his face.
“Father, I’m sorry. But this is an emergency. My mother is coming back to Berlin. Tom – Captain Westlake has to disappear tonight.”
Pfarrer Bernau furrowed his brows. “That is problematic indeed. There’s no way to speed up his papers or the escape route. Those things take time and dedication.” He looked at her with his warm brown eyes? “What if your mother learns about him?”
“No.” Ursula shook her head violently. “She would never allow a man in our home. Not a German and much less an Englishman.”
“We must find an alternative solution then, somewhere he can hide for a few more days. When is your mother due to arrive?”
“It depends on the train connection, but she might arrive as early as tomorrow night, or the day after.”
“Then the transfer has to happen tonight. That doesn’t give us much time.” The priest turned to look out the window. “Unfortunately, he can’t come here as I often have police visiting the Mass. There must be some place where nobody will find him.”
“In the allotments.” Ursula leapt up, her blonde waves bouncing around her head. “We have a tiny shed there and used to go a lot, but since the attacks on the nearby industrial compound, we’ve been warned it’s unsafe. There’s a strict curfew in place, and people aren’t allowed to spend the night.”
Pfarrer Bernau turned around. “That will do. It’s only for a few days. But he’ll need civilian clothes.” The priest looked down his lanky frame. “I’m afraid Captain Westlake won’t fit into mine. Can you arrange for something?”
Ursula swallowed. “I will.”
Tom was of a far broader stature than her father or her brother, Richard. It was out of the question that he could borrow their clothes. Andreas, though, had been about the same size as Tom, with blonde hair and blue eyes, in contrast to Tom’s dark hair a
nd emerald green eyes. Their smiles were strikingly similar and also the way they made her feel. It wasn’t fair to Andreas. Nor was it to his mother whom she had to visit today.
“On second thought, take this.” Pfarrer Bernau handed her a black soutane as she was about to leave, “Have him wear it over the civilian clothes when you’re going to the allotments.”
Ursula returned to work and arranged for a colleague to cover the last hour of her shift so she could leave early. Guilt slowed her pace as she trudged to the place where her mother-in-law lived. She hadn’t visited her recently, for the simple reason that she couldn’t stand the reminder of Andreas. Looking into the desolate eyes of the woman who’d lost both her husband and her son had been unbearable while Ursula wallowed in her own grief. Ursula knocked on the door.
“Guten Tag, Frau Hermann,” Ursula greeted the older woman with the same blue eyes and blonde hair of Andreas. The distinct similarity made her stomach flip.
“Ursula…” Her mother-in-law reached out and pulled her inside the house into a warm embrace. “It’s so good to see you. I was wondering when you would come by to see me. I understand it’s hard after, well...” Frau Hermann’s eyes began to glisten with tears.
“It’s so hard. I miss him every day.” Ursula looked down at her hands, fighting her own tears. “But, then, I missed him every day before too.”
“Yes. That’s true. This war is a terrible thing. It has stolen my husband and my only son. I do not know how I am going to recover, but you must feel the same. You two were such a nice couple. I hope one day you will find another man you care for as much.”
Ursula was relieved that Frau Hermann chose that moment to blow her nose for she felt her face blush deeply.
“Frau Hermann, I have come to ask a favor.” Lying had become a habit during the last days, and she barely flinched at her next words. “I have...nothing to remember Andreas by, for we never got to live together. I was wondering if you could permit me to have some of his clothes, some memorabilia for me to turn to when I feel alone.”
War Girl Ursula Page 8
