Tunnel 29

by Helena Merriman

  Around eight, Joachim hears a noise at the door, sees the handle slip down, and there in the doorway is a giant of a man in a long dark leather coat and hat. One hand in his pocket.

  Stasi. That’s Joachim’s first thought, and as he panics, trying to work out what to do, behind him, Hasso pulls his gun out of his pocket. ‘Hands up, now!’ he says, voice trembling.

  Though the man obeys, lifting his hands from his pockets, Hasso’s finger feels for the trigger and pulls.

  Ellen

  Ellen sits uncomfortably in a small room at the train station. The room is bare, just a few chairs and a square table at which the policewoman is standing, rummaging through her bag. The policewoman empties everything out and runs her fingers along the lining. Ellen watches, mind racing: Have the Stasi discovered the tunnel? Did someone notice me in the pub? Did the taxi driver tell someone about the money?

  The policewoman looks at her. ‘What were you doing in East Berlin?’

  ‘A friend, I was here to see an old school friend.’

  Policewoman’s face is blank.

  ‘Undress. Put your clothes on the table.’

  Ellen removes her headscarf, her blouse and skirt, nylons, pants and bra. Policewoman searches. Everywhere. Nothing like this has ever happened to Ellen before and she feels sick. Humiliated.

  ‘Okay,’ says the policewoman eventually, having found nothing. ‘You can go.’

  Ellen dresses, leaves the room and walks to passport control, feeling as though she’s holding something combustible inside that could erupt at any moment. At the platform there’s a train waiting and she runs onto it. She sits down. A rigid statue. The train shudders into motion, and Ellen hears the announcement, the most comforting sequence of words she’s heard in a long time: ‘You are now leaving East Berlin.’

  Yet as the train moves, Ellen barely breathes: instead, she contains all the emotions from that day – her fear of getting the signals wrong, or getting lost or caught, her regret about going into the building, panic over the lack of coffee, the money in her bag, the humiliating strip-search – and it’s only once the train reaches Lehrter Bahnhof, the first stop in West Berlin, that her body crumples and she looks down at her knees, now shaking uncontrollably, wondering how she, Ellen Schau, just a twenty-one-year-old from Düsseldorf, no experience of anything like this, how she held it together this long.

  The cellar in East Berlin

  Instead of a bang there’s a metallic click and Hasso’s gasp of surprise as he realises he didn’t pull the trigger but the safety catch. That’s when he sees them: the woman and boy standing behind the man in the coat. The man isn’t a Stasi agent; it’s just a young couple with their son.

  Hasso and Joachim pull them into the cellar; they’re all laughing nervously with relief. If Hasso’s gun had fired, the VoPos outside would have heard, run in, everything unravelled. It’s a narrow escape that puts everyone on edge. But the next families come to the cellar and crawl through. No drama.

  Claus the butcher is now the only digger left waiting for someone, his wife Inge, the pregnant woman thrown in a communist prison after she was caught escaping. Claus hasn’t seen Inge since then, and because of the diggers’ suspicions about him he’d only found out about the escape at the last minute. He’d asked someone to smuggle a message to Inge that day, desperately hoping she’d find out in time and come.

  As Joachim and Hasso wait by the door for the final people on the list, something happens that no one predicted: the caretaker of the building locks the main door to the street. Until now, the escapees could open the door to the building themselves. Now they can’t get in.

  Automatically, Joachim reaches for his blue workman’s coat, barely thinks about it. Creeping into the dark hall, he kneels at the door, fiddling with his skeleton keys. His chest is constricting, but his mind is calm. He’s done it before; he can do it again. He finds the right key, unlocks the door, creeps back into the cellar. The next group of people come through, but ten minutes later, another resident comes home for the night and locks the door again. Out goes Joachim to unlock it. He goes out again and again, unlocking this door that leads to a street patrolled by VoPos until around eleven in the evening when a woman appears with two children. He lets them in, knowing they’ll be the last.

  In the cellar in West Berlin, the camera is still focused on the tunnel. Claus is standing there, losing hope that Inge will come. Then he hears a noise. A hand emerges from the tunnel, then a woman. It’s dark, everyone is covered in mud, and the woman barely glances at Claus as she squeezes past. She climbs the ladder, looking confused, tired. Then Claus hears another noise coming from the tunnel. A digger appears, something white in his arms, and Claus’s heart jumps as he realises it’s a baby – tiny, just four months old – and at that moment Claus knows, somehow, that the child is his. He bends down and gently takes the bundle, delivering the baby from the tunnel.

  It’s a boy. His son. It’s the first time he’s seen him, the first time he’s touched him, held him, and as Claus cradles his child, Inge looks back, sees this mud-covered man holding her baby, looks down, and later she’ll say that it was by his bare feet that she knew him – her husband. Claus and Inge go towards each other, out of the eye of the camera.

  Joachim

  Joachim stands in the cellar in East Berlin alone. He’s stayed there, at the most dangerous place, till the very end, shepherding everyone through, risking his life as he creeped out into the apartment, again and again to unlock the door. Counting them, he realises twenty-nine people have crawled through the tunnel. With the water up to his knees, he knows that’s it. Time to go.

  As he looks at the tunnel, the sides beginning to fall in, Joachim’s mind races, snapshot-memories of the last four months appearing in his head like frames on a film-reel. The leaks. The electric shocks. The mud, so much mud. The blisters. The Stasi soldier under the window. The people who came tonight. Knowing they’re all safe in West Berlin, he feels the most intense happiness he’s ever experienced. More exquisite than his own escape.

  Then, for a reason he can’t explain, he thinks of his father, the last time he saw him, when he was just six, sitting on his lap, looking up at his face before soldiers took him away. Joachim holds on to the memory, the feeling of being held, the fearless problem-solver suddenly a child. Perhaps if you lose someone in an escape that goes wrong, the only thing that can heal you is an escape that goes right. Or perhaps he feels what every child craves: the pride of a parent.

  There’s a final piece of footage from that night. Klaus and Peter are filming the escapees gathering their things. The camera tracks each one in their mud-stained, ripped clothes as they walk towards the door, the door that leads to West Berlin, the other half of their city that somehow became a different country. As the last person walks through it, they look back and the door closes softly behind them.

  58

  Walter and Wilhelm

  THREE DAYS AFTER the escape, on 17 September, Stasi Second Lieutenant Horn receives a phone call from one of his informants, a man he calls ‘Walter’. Walter wants to meet; says he has something important to tell him. They meet and Horn is glad Walter called: it seems Walter’s neighbours have committed one of the most serious crimes of East Germany – they have escaped. Following the meeting, Horn writes a report:

  17th Sept, 1962

  Main division II/5

  - Operative group -

  BStU

  [Federal Commissioner for the Records of the State Security

  Service of the former German Democratic Republic]

  0228

  Berlin, 17.09.1962

  Meeting with Contact Person (CP) ‘Walter’

  Employee: Second lieutenant Horn

  Meeting Report

  ‘Walter’ called today and asked to meet because he had some important news. As a result, a meeting was held with him in which he reported the following:

  On Saturday 15 September, when he came to his weekend property in
Wilhelmshagen with his family, he learnt from his wife that young Evi Schmidt seemed very strange to her when shopping on Thursday and the young couple have not been seen since Thursday 13 September. It is curious because everything looks as if they are not gone… two nappies are still hanging on the washing line and the mattress is still laying where they always sunbathe in the garden. Likewise, the windows are not closed and nor are the window shutters, which they usually closed when they were not at home.

  ‘Wilhelm’ then saw the same thing and it also seemed strange to him because they always left their property differently if they were away for a few days. They were not seen for the entire weekend and Peter Schmidt’s other neighbour named [---] expressed their concerns to ‘Wilhelm’ as to whether the Schmidt family could be deserters from the republic, particularly as Eveline Schmidt’s grandfather came to the property multiple times on Saturday and Sunday without knowing that they were not there or where they could be.

  Measures:

  Make contact with Secret Informant ‘Wilhelm’ and get further details from him. If it is established by these measures that they are not back yet and there are no known reasons for them being gone, contact will be made with the section commissioner (ABV).

  Signed, Second lieutenant Horn

  * * *

  20th Sept 1962

  Main division II/5

  - Operative group -

  BStU

  [Federal Commissioner for the Records of the State Security Service of the former German Democratic Republic]

  0232

  Berlin-Wilhelmshagen, 20.09.62

  Transcript from meeting with ‘Wilhelm’

  On Thursday to Friday 13th–14th, I noticed that my neighbour had vacated his home. Peter Schmidt’s mother has also not been seen since then. On the day after the disappearance, the grandfather, who is named Sperling and resides in Neu-Venedig, came and wanted to gain entrance but he was not able to get in. He came back to check several times.

  The disappearance must have been very sudden as I saw Annet running excitedly through the woods in the morning the day before. A car with the registration number B – DA 466 came by with two men days before the disappearance. They took pictures of the whole family and individually and handed over a bag with contents… I do not know what was in the bag. I have not seen the men again since then.

  Peter Schmidt himself left by bicycle every morning at around 8.30 hrs. He returned home in the evening between 4.30 and 5 hrs. He was supposedly working. I heard someone shouting ‘Eveline’ near the fence on the morning after the disappearance, which is Mrs Schmidt’s first name. I could not see anyone when I came out.

  Peter Schmidt’s chimney was smoking fiercely on the day before the disappearance. I said to my wife: ‘They are filling the whole area with smoke.’ They were presumably burning something unpleasant. The disappearance must have been very sudden because there are still nappies hanging on the washing line. Furthermore, he put up a new fence and spread weed killer. I suspect that he suddenly received a message and then disappeared.

  Signed ‘Wilhelm’

  59

  The Search

  AFTER THE STASI Section Commissioner reads those reports from Walter and Wilhelm, he sends a small team to Evi and Peter’s house. Inside, everything looks as it should: the furniture is there, as are clothes, toiletries and food, and the windows are open. It looks as though the family are out on a day-trip, yet they know from their informants that Evi and Peter haven’t been here for three days.

  Then one of the officers notices that some things are missing: there’s no handbag, no ID cards. They conclude that Peter, Evi and Annet must have ‘left democratic Berlin illegally’. Then they seal off the house.

  Now they are certain that the Schmidt family has escaped, committing the serious crime of Republikflucht; it’s time to find someone to blame. It’s the usual Stasi response: when someone escapes, find a relative or friend who knew about the escape plan and punish them.

  At first they struggle to find anyone connected to Peter and Evi. The Stasi discover that Evi’s mother is dead, that her father lives in West Germany. No siblings. Then – a lead. They hear that her grandparents live nearby. And that’s when they call Evi’s grandfather, Rudolph Sperling, and tell him to come to the police station. They will interrogate him, and once he’s admitted to being part of it, they can arrest him.

  60

  Film-reel

  REUVEN FRANK KNEELS on the floor, covering a piece of cardboard in white paint. It’ll work well enough – a makeshift projector screen for the footage. He’s been awake most of the night, desperate to see it. While Evi, Peter, Annet and the others were crawling through the tunnel, Reuven was waiting at the NBC bureau. Told it would all be over by nine in the evening, he’d sat there, hour after hour, hoping Peter and Klaus would arrive and tell him everyone was safe.

  Around ten, Reuven had ordered an expensive meal. It sat in front of him, uneaten. Just before midnight he couldn’t wait any longer and he’d asked Gary Stindt to drive him past the factory. It was a risk, but they were careful, not stopping the car or slowing down as they drove by. Peering out of the window, Reuven could see the street was quiet, no police cars, no searchlights from the East, nothing to indicate the escape was blown. Back at the bureau he’d sat there again, startling at every noise, looking up to see if the Dehmel brothers were here.

  Eventually, at two in the morning, Peter and Klaus arrived. Their faces said it all: it had happened. No shootings. No arrests. They’d left the film at a friend’s lab, told the technician to develop it quickly, ask no questions. And now, at noon the day after the escape, they’re about to watch it.

  Peter inserts the film into the projector. It whirrs into life, and Reuven watches as a shot of the tunnel appears on the cardboard. Then a shot of the ladder leaning against the shaft. Reuven’s eyes widen as he sees a hand appear in the tunnel. The hand pauses, draws back, then a head emerges and a whole person crawls out and stands in the shaft. Evi. The footage is silent, and in that silence, Reuven barely breathes. He’s mesmerised, eyes glistening as he watches person after person crawl into West Berlin. For he knows what it’s taken to get this far; he’s watched hours of footage of digging; he’s seen, on film, their tired faces, the sweat dripping down their arms; he’s seen glimpses of the escape that went wrong; and he knows that no one has ever made a film like this, where cameras have been there all the way through, a film that shows the terrifying, exhausting reality of pulling off such an escape. Reality TV they might call it.

  Reuven sits, motionless, as he watches people crawl through – women in high heels, young men in smart suits, frail grandparents – all the way till he sees Claus holding his son for the first time, and his heart swells. There’s a final shot of the basement, then a click as the films runs out and the cardboard becomes lifeless once more.

  He takes a moment to think, then Reuven the TV producer comes to life, his brain spilling out ideas about how to edit the film. He begins working on it that day with his editor, carries on into the next and the day after that. Editing the film is unlike anything he’s ever done. There’s no sound, no interviews, just action. He sorts through it chronologically, deciding which character to focus on, which diggers and escapees to make the most of. He wants it to be exciting, gripping, but also to show the hourly, daily, weekly monotonous grind of pushing spade into earth, the relentlessness of it all. As well as the film from the tunnel, he has home-movies, shot by Mimmo during his visits to Peter and Evi’s house in East Berlin, as well as stilted footage from the early stages of the escape. Because they only started filming one month after the digging began, Peter and Klaus had asked Mimmo, Gigi and Wolf to re-enact some of the early scenes: their search for the tunnel site, their meetings over maps. In their sunglasses and hats, cigarettes held loosely between their fingers, they’d wandered around the border, peering into bushes, looking unconvincing as they re-created those early days.

  Reuven also has foot
age from over the Wall of life in East Berlin – long queues outside shops, desolate streets. They work long into each night. Reuven wants to finish editing the film in Berlin, wants to keep NBC’s involvement in the tunnel secret until he’s ready to explain it to the world. He knows it’s controversial.

  A week into the edit, as he reaches the footage from the escape, Reuven realises the film is missing something – an ending. He doesn’t want the escape to be the last scene; he knows his audience will want a final chapter. And so, like a twenty-first-century TV producer who blurs the line between filming and contriving, he decides to throw a party. NBC will provide food and whiskey, and in return, all the characters in this film – the diggers, the escapees, the messengers – will agree to be filmed.

  One last time.

  61

  The Bug

  THE STASI AGENT presses his headphones closer to his ears, moves the dial on his radio to get a better signal, hovering over 162.5 MHz. There. He can hear perfectly. Two people are talking. West Berliners. He doesn’t know their names, but that’s okay, he can just use letters. He begins typing:

  A: Have you heard that at 5 p.m. a press conference will take place with Bahr?

  B: Who is Bahr?

  A: Bahr is the spokesperson of the Senate. Apparently at the weekend, twenty-five East Berliners came to West Berlin via a tunnel.