I got up, took all my clothes off, opened the shower, and stepped inside. I washed myself several times from head to toes making sure that I no longer smelled of that gas that seemed to be stuck inside my nostrils forever. I made sure that I no longer had any Auschwitz dust on me, nothing to remind me of that hell. I rubbed myself with a washcloth till my skin was squeaky clean and only then I got out of the shower. I wrapped myself in a thick towel and, still wet, walked out of the bathroom, looking for Heinrich.
He was in his study, going through some papers. He lifted his head as soon as he saw me standing at the door but didn’t move. I guess he wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk. I wasn’t. But I still walked up to him, got on his lap and curled in his arms, dampening his shirt with my wet hair. He didn’t mind, he kept brushing his fingers through it, till it got dark out, till I felt safe again and till I finally fell asleep.
“What the hell does it mean unconfirmed information?! I’m the one who’s confirming it!!!”
Ingrid put a finger to her mouth in a universal sign of silence, but I couldn’t help screaming. I was outraged by the reply that Adam just delivered from the Allied Intelligence Service. They didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe a single word I said about Auschwitz.
I was pacing around the living room in Ingrid and Rudolf’s townhouse, feeling an urge to break something. Adam was sitting quietly in the corner while Rudolf was refilling his and Heinrich’s glasses with whiskey. The house, in which the two undercover agents lived, was as big as ours, and maybe even grander. No wonder, since according to their legend they both belonged to the German aristocracy, Rudolf posing as a wealthy banker and Ingrid as a talented cello player, which allowed her to easily travel all over the newly established Reich, which seemed to be growing bigger and bigger from day to day, and do her underground work without causing any suspicion.
They were both the longest working agents in Berlin, who had never been compromised. Calculated, rational and extremely careful about every single operation or connection they made, the couple had only earned my admiration. It seemed that they always knew what to do and had the answer to every question. I wasn’t surprised, maybe if I had been working for the Intelligence Service for almost fifteen years like Ingrid or twenty like her “husband,” I’d have it all figured out too. But this time even they didn’t look too happy.
“Don’t take it personally, Annalise,” Ingrid said calmly. “They have their protocols and all they do is follow them. I understand how they find it difficult to believe what one German girl thinks she heard.”
“They were talking about nine hundred people they killed, Ingrid. Nine hundred!”
“Well, did you see their bodies?”
“I didn’t need to!!! I was there and I saw the basement with my own eyes! I smelled the gas in the air, it was still there, what kind of other proof do they want?!”
“Maybe you misinterpreted their words. Even to me it sounded too extreme, for the SS to start mass gassing the Jewish population and especially the prisoners of war, which breaks all the rules of war. And I live here and see what they do every day. So put yourself in place of our agents on the other side, do you think they’ll find this sort of information credible?”
“Have you been to Auschwitz, Ingrid?” I crossed my arms over my chest and looked her straight in the eyes. She remained silent. “No. And I have. I know what I saw and what I heard. It’s the new directive administered by the Führer himself called ‘The Final Solution to the Jewish Problem.’ They want to exterminate the whole Jewish population of Europe. How can you possibly misinterpret that?!”
“Annalise is an extremely smart girl, Ingrid.” My husband took my side like he always did. “And she never exaggerates facts. She knows what she’s talking about.”
“I’m sure she does.” Ingrid sighed. “But our hands are tied in this situation. All we could do was deliver the information. It was up to them whether they would take it into consideration or disregard it. They chose to disregard it, so… all we can do is move on.”
“And let them continue killing thousands of people a day,” I concluded.
“They’re killing thousands of people a day bombing British cities as well,” Ingrid said. “And trust me, it concerns the Allies much more than whatever the SS does to its own people here, in the Reich.”
I sat down on a little sofa near the window and rested my head in my hands. I felt tired and helpless. Heinrich sat next to me and slightly rubbed my back, silently comforting me.
“Annalise, I know how you feel.” Rudolf’s deep voice always had a relaxing effect on me. I always thought that he should have been a doctor or a pastor. “I’ve been in a situation like yours many, many times. All you can do is let it go for now. And in the future, if you can get some proof to add to whatever we already sent them, copies of orders maybe, recorded conversations, whatever it is, trust me, they’ll reopen this file again. We have to concentrate on other things for now. Sound fair?”
I just nodded.
“Good. Now let’s do a little brainstorming. How can we install a microphone in SD-Ausland main office without compromising ourselves?”
I looked around the hospital examination room once again and found its sterile atmosphere somewhat comforting. For the past two weeks I had developed a paranoid obsession with the idea that after inhaling that residue of Zyklon B gas I had somehow poisoned myself and was now slowly dying to say the least, even though the rest of the inspection staff seemed to be very healthy.
I absolutely lost my appetite and was constantly sick just from looking at food. I felt sleepy and exhausted all day, unable to concentrate on the easiest task at work. I wasn’t sure if the recurring headaches and dizziness was from the gas poisoning or from the lack of food. Heinrich finally couldn’t ignore my condition anymore and made me take a couple of hours off work to go to a hospital.
Of course I couldn’t tell the doctor where I thought I really inhaled the gas, so I made up a story that a gardener was using this pesticide called Zyklon on our trees, and I thought I could have accidentally poisoned myself with it. Surprisingly, the doctor laughed at my suggestion and reassured me that if I really inhaled the gas, I would have been long dead. Nevertheless, he checked all my vital signs, asked me a million or more questions and then concluded with a smile, “Most likely you’re just pregnant. Nothing to worry about.”
“I can’t be pregnant!” I said much louder than I should have, judging by the doctor’s face.
“Why not? You’re a healthy young married woman, why wouldn’t you be?”
Because my husband and I tried to be very careful not to get me pregnant and even wouldn’t have sex on certain days of a month, I wanted to reply. But I couldn’t, since any means of contraception were strictly prohibited by the German government.
“Well… I don’t know. Why are you so sure that I’m pregnant?”
“First of all, you can’t even remember your first missed period. Second, you’re constantly nauseous, dizzy, sensitive to scents, feeling tired all day… do you feel that your… excuse me, chest area is more sensitive now?”
I did feel that my “chest area” was more sensitive, but I’d thought that I developed a cancer or something after visiting the gas bunker. I closed my eyes with one hand and moaned, “Oh God, I’m pregnant.”
“You should be happy about it, not upset! You’re going to become a mother soon!”
I wasn’t sure how the role of a mother would fit into my already double life as an SS-Helferin and a counterintelligence agent, and sighed.
“Right. Fantastic.”
The doctor looked confused with my reaction to the news and after a pause added, “You should come back in a month, just to make sure that we’re right. And please, feel free to ask any questions that might interest you.”
“No, I think it’s more than enough information for one day, doctor, thank you.”
“All right. I’ll see you in a month then. Congratulations!”
“Thanks.”
Heinrich didn’t even try to hide his excitement. He kept patting my still absolutely flat belly with enthusiasm that made me roll my eyes each time. Right after I told him he immediately took the cross off my wrist and declared in a tone that wouldn’t stand any objections that my “career” as a spy was officially over. I would still work in the SD office for at least several more months, but all the intelligence games were now off limits for me. I was actually very much surprised by my husband’s reaction. I was sure that he would react at least like me, if not more upset. Instead he lifted me in his arms and covered my face in kisses.
“Weren’t you just saying that we should wait till it’s all over?” I squinted my eyes at him.
“Who cares what I was saying? We’re having a baby!”
He was so genuinely happy that I started feeling the same way too. Yes, we were having a baby, my husband’s baby, who I loved to no end.
Chapter Twenty
Ursula couldn’t be more excited that our children would be almost the same age. She was already hoping that Heinrich and I would have a boy and he would marry her little Greta when they grew up. I kept shaking my head and laughing at her.
“I don’t know what all of you are talking about. I don’t even feel any different!” I shrugged at my best friend as we were strolling in the park, her pushing a baby carriage with Greta in it.
“Well, you’re right. You don’t feel any different till you first feel your baby move inside of you. The best feeling in the world, I have to tell you! I was crying for half an hour after I felt the first kick.”
“I guess. Right now it’s very hard for me to believe that I have someone else living inside my body.”
“Give it a little time. How amazing it is to have a new life growing inside of you, right? We, women, can actually grow a new human being inside of us. We are like goddesses!”
I laughed. Ursula should have been a writer, she always had the best metaphors to describe the most trivial things.
“Right. We grow that new life, bring it to the world and our men start another war and kill it.”
“What can we do?” She sighed. “They’re men. They always fight.”
Greta started stretching her little hands to her mother and making noises, clearly indicating that she wanted out of the carriage. Just before Ursula made a motion toward the baby, I asked her, “Can I carry her? I’m trying to get used to having a baby in my arms.”
“Oh, please, be my guest!” She seemed more than relieved by my request. “After you have your own, you will get so tired of it that you’ll want to put it back where it came from.”
I laughed again and carefully took Greta in my arms, thinking that since I last held her she’d gotten a lot heavier.
“She grows so fast!” I remarked to Ursula.
“Too fast. And Max is already begging me for another one.”
“He’s such a great father. He constantly dotes on her, it’s so adorable!”
“Heinrich’s going to be a great father too. He loves children.”
“I know. He loves this one already, even though it’s the size of a peanut.”
“Wait till you hold your newborn in your hands. Your life will change completely.”
I tried to imagine what it would be like, but for some reason I couldn’t. Probably it’s one of those things that you have to experience, I thought to myself, fixing Greta’s knitted hat. The baby didn’t feel alien in my hands anymore.
I was feeling very nervous waiting in Gruppenführer Heydrich’s anteroom, while his adjutant was inside his office, going over some documentation with him. I’d been asking him to see me for more than two weeks, but kept getting the same reply that “Herr Gruppenführer didn’t have time.” At last he decided to “generously” allow me a short meeting with him just to stop my nagging.
Finally, the door to his office opened and the adjutant motioned me inside. I quickly got up and walked in, trying to look as calm as I could, considering the favor that I came to ask Heydrich for.
“Heil Hitler!” I said clear and loud, just the way he demanded it from all the subordinates.
“Heil Hitler,” the Chief of SD replied without lifting his eyes from the documents on his desk. Instead he motioned me to a chair next to it. “Sit down and please, make it quick, I only have five minutes.”
I sat down, straightened my uniform skirt and took a deep breath.
“Herr Gruppenführer, I’ve come to ask you for something.”
He lifted his ice-cold, blue eyes at me.
“What is it?”
“You see, after I spoke to my brother in… Poland,” I said carefully. “He… doesn’t seem to occupy the right position, as it appeared to me.”
Heydrich put down his pen.
“Do you want him to get a promotion?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” I realized he’d misinterpreted my words and tried to correct myself. “I meant that he feels he would be much more useful, to the Reich, on the Eastern front. He wants to transfer to the Waffen-SS again instead of the SS-Totenkopfverbande.”
He frowned.
“Why would he do that? It’s not too smart a decision to make. We normally send soldiers to the Eastern front, as a means of punishment.”
I nodded.
“I know, Herr Gruppenführer. But he wants to fight for the Reich physically, with the real enemy, if you know what I mean, instead of…”
I didn’t know how to correctly finish the sentence in order not to anger Heydrich. He kept staring at me with his piercing eyes.
“He is fighting with the real enemy right now, Annalise. The very real enemy of the Reich – the Jews, the gypsies, and the Bolsheviks. He’s fighting for the future of our master race by getting rid of this filth of life, which is unworthy of living. He’s creating a new future, a better, brighter future for the next generation of Germans, who will be able to breathe freely and walk freely on earth that will belong to them and to them only. How can he not understand and appreciate it? It’s a privilege, not something to be unhappy about.”
How can I get to this man with his mind being so perverted and purely evil? How can he understand what I’m trying to say when we think so absolutely differently? I tried again from a different angle.
“Herr Gruppenführer, I know that it’s a big honor to work for the future of the Reich. And believe me, my brother knows it as well. He loves his country more than anything in the world. But different people are born for different things, that’s why we have doctors, lawyers, engineers, musicians… and that’s why he feels like he was born a soldier, not a prison guard. He doesn’t feel in the right place there. He feels…” Depressed, desperate, disgusted, angry, miserable, sickened. I omitted all that and said what the general wanted to hear, “He feels that he can’t bring as much good to his country as he would in the position of a regular soldier. He’s been asking the Kommandant to replace him with someone, but Herr Höss keeps refusing him. So I’m here to ask you to help him, I know that it’s in your powers, so please, be so kind and sign the order for his transfer, and we’ll be forever in debt to you.”
He eyed me for another moment and then shook his head.
“No. If Höss thinks he makes a good guard, he’ll stay where he is. It’s the army, not kindergarten, where children switch places because they don’t like where they sit.”
I couldn’t believe his cold-hearted refusal and just froze in my chair not knowing what else to say.
“Herr Gruppenführer, I’m begging you, please—”
“Don’t start your girlie tricks with me with your big eyes and begging,” he abruptly interrupted me before I could finish the sentence. “And don’t even think of crying here, you’re a member of SS, for God’s sake! Don’t embarrass yourself, and go back to work.”
I had one last chance to persuade him, and I didn’t care anymore if he would get mad at me or not; all I was thinking of was getting my brother out of that hell.
“Well then go and do your goddamn job!!! He stays where he is and he better start liking it! Now go! I have work to do.”
He returned to his paperwork as if I wasn’t even there anymore. I slowly rose from my chair and walked to the exit. I swallowed hard all the tears inside my throat and turned around.
“Heil Hitler, Herr Gruppenführer.”
“Heil Hitler.”
The adjutant closed the door behind me. Hate Hitler!!! I screamed at the top of my lungs inside my mind. But not a sound left my lips. We were a nation of mutes.
“I added more milk, Mama! It still doesn’t look right.” Holding a phone between my ear and shoulder, I made a face at what looked like anything but oatmeal. I stirred it, tasted it again, and came to the conclusion that I was hopeless. “I’m not sure that the baby will want to eat something like this. I’m going to be the worst mother ever!”
My mother’s laughter on the other end brought a smile to my face.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, every woman thinks that. But then you have your baby, and you just know what to do and how to do it. It’s instinctual. And besides, you have Magda to help you.”
“I know, but I still wanted to learn to do something myself.”
“What a great present God gave you for your twenty-first birthday, Herzchen! I had Norbert when I was twenty myself. By the way, did you write him a letter like you wanted to?”
“I thought about it but then decided not to. He’s getting leave for my birthday and Christmas, so I wanted to tell him in person when he comes here. I wanted to see his face when I tell him that he’ll become an uncle soon.”
“Too bad I won’t be able to be there with you two.”
The Girl from Berlin, #1 Page 25
