The Darkest Hour

by Roberta Kagan

  “No, they’re exonerated.” His lips pursed into an icy smile. “The priest confessed that he’d been tricking them into helping him by pretending that he worked under the authority of the housing agency, seeking to find new quarters for bombed-out victims.”

  Pfarrer Bernau had sacrificed himself to save Ursula and her mother? That man was a saint. She couldn’t suppress a gasp and quickly said, “What a devious man!”

  “Yes. And he’ll pay the price. As we speak my men are practicing some new techniques on him.” Becker’s devilish smile churned Sabine’s stomach. The mere sight of the odious man made her want to throw up.

  She wanted to pummel her fists into his chest, pounding out every raw emotion as she demanded he let Pfarrer Bernau go free.

  Observing her distress, Becker smirked and began to detail some of the torture methods used on the unfortunate souls who fell into the Gestapo’s hands. She felt dizziness unsteady her and put her hand on the drawer for support.

  “You look pale, Frau Mahler, are you feeling unwell?” he said, putting a hand on her arm. It took all her self-control not to yank her arm away and upset him.

  “Your descriptions…this is a lot to take in on an empty stomach,” she said.

  “That’s because you’re a woman. Women are driven by emotions. They’re weak, unintelligent and irrational. But…” his face came so close to hers, she could smell his breath heavy with tobacco and see the dark speckles in his irises, “…you agree that each has to be rendered his just desserts, don’t you?”

  She didn’t think anyone should be rendered torture, but with Becker’s breath brushing her face she nodded.

  “Including you and your husband?”

  Her eyes went wide and vomit threatened to spill into her mouth. “Me?”

  “Yes.” He flashed that vile smile again, torturing her with his words. An expression of gleeful delight lined his face as he basked in her terror. “You have proven a remarkably useful agent for us and I have decided to reward you for your services to the Reich by returning your husband later today.”

  “You will? Thank you!”

  “Don’t thank me. We both only followed our orders. I’ll be in touch.” Becker nodded at the two SS men and together they left the apartment. Sabine followed them with shaking knees, locking and bolting the door behind them.

  Chapter 27

  Two hours later, a knock came on the apartment door. Sabine hurried toward it, wild butterflies dancing in her stomach. It was Werner! It had to be! Joy threaded through her at the expectation of seeing her husband again.

  When she opened the door, she could barely suppress a gasp. Her handsome, virile husband was a mere shadow of his former self. His short brown hair had grown into a matted mess and despite his twenty-seven years, grey strands adorned his temples. His face was hollow and grey, his dirty bloodstained clothes hanging in rags from his lanky frame.

  But he was alive. And free.

  “Sabine,” he said with a shaky voice, taking an even shakier step toward her. With great effort he made it to the sitting room and tumbled onto the couch.

  “Werner, my love. You’re here,” she stated the obvious, showering kisses on his bruised face.

  “I thought I’d never see you again after…”

  “Shush. That’s in the past now. You’re here. Free and alive.” Sabine gingerly placed a kiss upon his lips, barely daring to touch him for fear of causing him pain. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes. Very much so.”

  She drew him a bath and helped him into the tub before she disappeared into the kitchen to prepare something to eat. But the joy of having him back was dampened by worry about Becker’s parting shot. I’ll be in touch. He expected her to continue working for him. She’d proved remarkably useful for the Reich. That’s what he’d said.

  But she wouldn’t do it again. Wouldn’t betray her morals again, not even to keep Werner alive. It wasn’t right.

  With the potatoes boiling on the stove, she entered her bedroom and knelt on the floor to retrieve her suitcase from under the bed. She heaved it onto the bed and opened it. There wasn’t much inside: one single set of clothing for Werner, including his favorite sweater. She caressed the soft dark blue wool, remembering better times. Before all this had happened. A queasy feeling welled up in her stomach and for a fleeting moment she thought she’d vomit.

  All the excitement of the past weeks had made her feel unwell most of the time, but that would now change, as soon as calm was restored in her life. She took the clothes, except for the woolen sweater, and knocked on the bathroom door, “Werner, do you need help?”

  “No, but please come in.” He looked a lot better, the dirt and blood of weeks washed away, but the bruises and cuts still marked his flesh. Somehow he managed to smile, showing a new tooth gap. “You can’t imagine how glad I am to be here with you.”

  A flush heated her cheeks. Being this near to him made her emotions bubble up, but this wasn’t the moment to pursue intimacy, since she feared every touch would cause him pain. “Here are clean clothes for you. I’ll be in the kitchen. Yell if you need help.”

  Sabine pulled the door shut and escaped into the kitchen, occupying her hands and mind with making the roast potatoes he so much loved. She found a piece of ham in the pantry and cut it into pieces to add into the pan.

  Just when she finished setting the table, he suddenly stood behind her, naked from the waist up. He wrapped his arms around her waist. His embrace felt different – bony, insecure. Her heart broke when she thought about all the things the Gestapo must have done to him.

  “Could you maybe have a look at my back?”

  “Oh!” Tears stung at her eyes when she saw the torn flesh on his back. Red lines crisscrossed the skin, a permanent reminder of Becker’s flogging. “Sit down and I’ll get the first aid kit. Some of the lacerations are infected.”

  “No surprise.”

  Sabine returned with the first aid kit and carefully cleaned out the deepest of the wounds, wiping away the infection until the wound ran clear. She dabbed some antiseptic on it, wincing when Werner groaned. After placing patches across the seeping wounds, she helped him put on his shirt.

  “Thank you,” he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her to stand between his knees. “I love you so much…”

  “I love you, too. I was so frightened they’d kill you.”

  “There were days when I wished they would, but then I would close my eyes and see your face. You gave me the will to keep living.”

  Humbled, Sabine slid onto a chair next to him. “Eat and then you need to rest.”

  Werner devoured the food like a wolf and Sabine pointed toward her bedroom. “Go. I will clean up and join you.”

  “You are not going to work today?”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “I didn’t realize…” Werner trotted into the bedroom, where she joined him after washing the dishes and leaving the kitchen spick and span. Now that Werner was back she’d apply in the housing office for a different place to live.

  She slid her shoes off and slipped onto the bed, where he was lying on his stomach. “Rest, my darling. You’re safe now.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “They won’t be bothering us again. Not right away, at least.”

  Werner turned around and sat up, wincing with pain, and frowned as he looked at her face. “How do you know that? What did you do?”

  Guilt came rushing back, threatening to drown her, and she stalled. “Do you know why you were arrested?”

  “No. They never even told me. They simply seemed to enjoy making me scream…” His face distorted into a grimace at the memory.

  A shudder racked her body and she took his hands into hers, tearing her eyes away from his gaze. But he wouldn’t be fooled. They’d lived together too long for him not to know when something was wrong.

  “Why do you look so guilty? Sabine, what was this all about? What did you do?”

  She took a
deep breath, and her voice was hoarse when she spoke, “I became their informant.” Her eyes cast downward to their intertwined hands, she continued, “This apartment? You know who lives here? Frau Klausen and her daughter.”

  “Frau Klausen…you mean the coworker Lily wanted you to spy on?” Werner’s eyes widened in shock.

  “Yes. I believe it was Lily’s idea to use you as leverage when I didn’t agree the first time she asked me. Kriminalkommissar Becker made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Spy on Frau Klausen and bring them the head of the organization in exchange for your life.”

  “You agreed? You’re working for the Gestapo now?” Gratitude was washed away by disgust on his face.

  “It was a one-time thing, and it’s not like I had a choice,” she defended herself.

  “There’s always a choice.” He pried his hands from hers.

  “I chose you.”

  “You shouldn’t have. How can I live with the knowledge that my own wife sent others into the Gestapo torture chambers just to save me? I would have preferred to die.” His voice, hard as steel, slapped her, rendering her speechless. After everything she’d been through, she didn’t think she could handle his rejection, too. He turned around, presenting her his back. “Go, please. I need sleep.”

  “Werner…”

  “Go.”

  Sabine left the bedroom and collapsed onto the couch, only to rush into the bathroom and throw up. Her gaze fell on the mirror cabinet and another wave of revulsion hit her body.

  She hadn’t bled since she’d moved here, more than two months ago. Sinking onto the cold tiles, she wrapped her trembling arms around herself.

  Why now of all times?

  Several hours later Sabine was mending clothes, listening to the radio. Zarah Leander was singing Davon geht die Welt nicht unter, “This Isn’t the End of the World”. She jumped when Werner appeared in front of her and said, “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About my wife working for the Gestapo.” His face still showed disapproval over her actions.

  “I’m not working for them, not anymore.” She put her mending work aside and observed how he positioned himself a few steps away from her, feet hip-wide apart and arms crossed in front of his chest. She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t let her off the hook until she’d told him everything. “They torched our house and assigned me to live here with Frau Klausen and her daughter.”

  If this revelation shocked him, he didn’t let it show. “Continue.”

  “I was to become friendly with them…” – she remembered how that had been a failure, since Frau Klausen had suspected something – “…and when they went to visit family several days ago, I finally managed to infiltrate the resistance organization. I was supposed to move a girl into hiding.”

  “You handed a child over to those thugs?” Werner’s eyes blazed with rage.

  She shook her head, remembering the bugs in the apartment. With a finger to her lips, she stood up and turned the radio louder, before she motioned for Werner to sit with her. Since he shook his head, she went on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear, “The Gestapo can hear us.”

  “I don’t want to sit.” He glared at her.

  “We’ll stand then. I couldn’t do it. Just before handing her over to the Gestapo, I escaped with the girl and brought her to the priest who’d arranged everything.”

  “You what?” His voice was hard as steel, but at least the piercing stare of his eyes had softened.

  “I brought her to a safe place.”

  “So why did they let me go?” Werner might have been beaten to shreds, but his sharp mind still worked.

  “I…I might have insinuated that someone had warned the organization.”

  “Someone?”

  “Well, yes…I might have mentioned Lily’s name.” Sabine’s knees trembled.

  “Our neighbor, Lily? You ratted her out to the Gestapo?”

  “It’s not that she was innocent. It was her idea to arrest you, and she’d betrayed so many people to the Gestapo during the past years. Hundreds! She admitted it! Even if she hasn’t committed this crime, her hands are steeped in blood.”

  He sank onto the couch, taking her with him. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “Unfortunately, I am. There was no other way out. She apparently confessed to having worked for the NKVD as well. The priest sacrificed himself to clear Frau Klausen and her daughter and the Gestapo is convinced I was the one handing them the head of the organization.”

  “That is a lot to take in,” Werner said. Silence enshrouded the room between two songs on the radio, but Sabine refused to beg for understanding. He’d have to come to his own conclusions. She wasn’t exactly proud of what she’d done, but she’d been backed into a corner with no way out.

  After a lengthy pause, she felt Werner’s hand sneak around her shoulders. “Sabine, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I wouldn’t want you to save me at the expense of innocents. I’m glad you did the right thing when it mattered most and saved this girl. And…I guess…Lily got what she deserved.”

  Sabine leaned into his arms. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “You know we can’t stay here, right?” he said.

  “I’ll go to the housing agency tomorrow to ask for another housing assignment.”

  He chuckled into her ear. “I’m not talking about the apartment. I’m talking about Germany. We need to leave the country, or we’ll never be safe.”

  Sabine felt the truth in his words, right down to her core. It was only a matter of time before the Gestapo would circle back and expect her to spy for them again. “You need to heal first.”

  “I plan on doing that quickly. Although a bit of naked care from my wife would probably be the best remedy.” He cast her a wicked smile and pressed a passionate kiss on her lips.

  She felt herself blush deeply as his hands slipped beneath her blouse and moved across her abdomen. Smiling at the sweet secret she carried, she decided to tell him another day. For now, she’d indulge in the love Werner wanted to shower upon her. She’d faced the devil himself and come out on the other side. Now, she’d revel in the hope, returning anew, for a better life.

  ***The End***

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  Continue reading the adventures of the Klausen family and find out how Ursula came to work for the resistance organization. Get War Girl Ursula, book 1 in the War Girl series here: https://kummerow.info/book/war-girl-ursula

  Sign up to Marion’s newsletter and download the short story DOWNED OVER GERMANY for free.

  It tells the story of Tom Westlake, British RAF Pilot story, before he met Ursula and fell in love with her.

  http://kummerow.info/newsletter-2

  About the Author

  Marion Kummerow was born and raised in Germany, before she set out to "discover the world" and lived in various countries. In 1999 she returned to Germany and settled down in Munich where she's now living with her family.

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  Her books are about resilience, love and the courage to stand up and do the right thing. They feature strong main characters facing a moral dilemma, and the answer is never easy or obvious.

  Killing the Hangman by Ellie Midwood

  Synopsis

  Killing the Hangman

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  The only man who stands in your own way is you

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  The Gestapo chief and the man, whom Hitler himself calls The Man with the Iron Heart, arrives in Prague and soon earns himself a name of The Hangman among its population. When the order comes from London calling the Czech resistance to assassinate Reinhard Heydrich, they have to decide fast, what is stronger: self-preservation or heroic death in the name of freedom.

  Prologue

  Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia-Moravia. May 27, 1942

  Jan’s hands trembled as he was wrapping a highly sensitive bomb, provided by the SOE, into a piece of cloth. Under his long, chestnut bangs, the young Czech’s
forehead shone with a film of sweat, viscous and transparent – like his fear. His blue eyes, usually so bright and smiling, so wonderfully alert with intelligence, now stared, without seeing, into space, his nostrils flaring as his heart was beating with savage force against his ribcage. The room appeared suddenly devoid of air.

  Jozef assured him yesterday when they had just returned from the appointed place, that he – Jozef – would be the one to carry out the assassination. Jan was there more for moral support – a so-called plan B in case plan A didn’t succeed, for reasons which Jan didn’t even wish to consider.

  But he had nothing to worry about, Jozef patted his cheek in a reassuring manner, pulled him close, by the neck, with his rough fingers, pressing his forehead into Jan’s, the usual optimistic grin in place. Jozef had never had to use a plan B before.

  Jan passed a hand over his forehead with beads of moisture on it, shamefully removing all visible traces of his hesitation, and blew his cheeks out, praying to all the Gods that Jozef was right.

  It’s not that he wasn’t aware of the purpose of the mission that he had signed up for, after all. But back in fog-ridden Britain, in the emerald paradise of Inverness-shire, in their newly established SOE sabotage training camp, everything seemed so much easier than here, in Prague, where he firsthand saw the Gestapo in action. He also saw their chief, the Reich Protector – SS Obergruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich – himself; the man, who Jozef and he had been sent here to assassinate. It was only a few days ago that one of their connections brought the radio message from London, confirming the mission. The rumor was that Heydrich was leaving for Berlin and after that – to France and apparently only Heydrich himself knew if he’d be back in Prague in the foreseeable future. They hastily decided on a date – May 27 – and once again went over the plan; three men waiting for Heydrich’s car on the side of the road, which he took every day on his way to work from his residence in Hradčany. The road near one of the streets turned so sharply that Heydrich’s Mercedes would have to slow down to an almost walking pace; that’s where they positioned themselves day after day, observing and marking everything down, using a bus stop as a convenient excuse for loitering where they shouldn’t have been.