As a captain and two first lieutenants stood to leave, Colonel Morgan added, “Please report any developments back to us. The sun is now up. We should know a lot more fairly soon.”
Four of us remained in the conference room—Colonel Morgan, Mark, Scott, and me.
Mark received another message, “Gentlemen, this situation is looking more dangerous. A phone conversation that one of our linguists upstairs just intercepted indicates that East German Air Forces are on full alert. Their aircraft are being armed, and pilots have been ordered to report for duty.”
Colonel Morgan grimaced. “Well gentlemen, it appears we’re in a crisis situation. I know I can count on each of you to do your duty. Now…”
I felt the tension mounting. Looking directly at my closest friends, I knew why.
Mark worried about the safety of his wife and three children, whom he’d brought to this menacing place.
Scott, usually so lighthearted, was glum. He and his girlfriend Mia had quarreled, and she’d recently moved back with her parents in the East.
Anna! My heart rate sped up. No, not a panic attack. Not here. Not now! Frozen in place, I slowly breathed in and out to steady myself.
“Colonel, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to check my sources and perform a reconnaissance of my own,” Scott requested. “Firsthand knowledge may help us with our tasks.”
“Please do so, Captain Taylor. While we wait for further developments, you have a task, Captain Kerr. Let’s go to your tank.”
Once Mark and I joined him in the tank, Colonel Morgan looked at me. “You’ve completed the tunnel. Now, you must expedite construction of the new Signals Exploitation Center facilities. I need a plan and a revised schedule today.”
“I’ll start immediately, sir,” I replied.
“You understand that the rapid completion of construction may prevent or help us win a war if it comes to that.”
“I fully understand. Colonel, while I work, can someone keep me informed of the latest developments?” Pausing, I added “My wife Anna went over to the East this weekend.”
“Sorry to hear that, Captain.” Colonel Morgan frowned. “We’ll keep everyone informed of the latest developments. Several thousand other American dependents are in grave danger as well, including the wives and children of both Colonel Powell and myself.”
I struggled to concentrate on the building schedule. My thoughts repeatedly strayed to how I could get Anna safely back to West Berlin.
Chapter 96
Anna
Sunday, August 13, 1961
The phone in the hall started to ring at a little after 6 a.m. that fateful Sunday morning. Papa answered it. I turned over in bed assuming it was a patient who needed his help. Soon after, I heard him call, “Everyone, come downstairs. I have bad news.”
Once we gathered around him, Papa announced, “The DDR has closed the border between East and West Berlin. Rumors indicate German and Russian troops are deployed all along the dividing line.”
“Does this mean war?” I asked, my thoughts on Robbie.
“Hopefully not,” Mama replied as she put her arm around little Andrea, who stood beside her.
An eerie silence followed Mama’s words. With tears in his eyes, Papa circled the room, hugging each of us, trying to reassure us all that everything would be all right.
I suggested, “Let’s turn on RIAS (Radio in the American Sector). It’s operated by the Americans. They never lie to us.”
We all sat down in the living room. Stephen dialed the station, which was playing classical music. The next news broadcast came on a short time later. “Our reporters have deployed along the dividing line between East and West Berlin. They have established that East German armed forces have completely sealed the border. Every checkpoint is closed. Construction equipment has been deployed to most of these locations, and work has commenced to seal most crossing points. Only a limited number of checkpoints do not have construction equipment, mostly in central Berlin.”
Papa said, “I’m afraid that we have waited too long, and that from now on the West will be closed to us. The totalitarian regime that controls us will begin to exercise more control over every aspect of our lives.”
“Stephen will no longer be able to attend school in the West,” Sophia said.
“I’m sure he will not be allowed to cross the border,” Papa replied.
As I looked around the room, my family’s glum faces revealed their concern for the future.
Conscious of the tension in the room, little Andrea crawled up into my lap saying, “Has something bad happened? Why isn’t Robert here?”
“Robert’s at our apartment in West Berlin, safe and sound,” I replied. “All the rest of us are here with you, and we won’t let anything bad happen to any of us.”
Minutes of silence followed as each member of my family contemplated the loss of freedom and restrictions that they would now be forced to endure.
“Hopefully, the Americans won’t let the communists abrogate the four-power agreements on free passage of peoples within Berlin so easily,” I offered.
“The members of the Western alliance will move very cautiously. They will not want to start another war,” Fredrich replied.
Angelica started to cry, “I was supposed to start school in the West next year. I don’t like my current teacher. She spends hours each day telling us of how wonderful life under Communism is.”
“We should turn it over to the communist propaganda station, DDR 1, so we can hear what they are saying,” Stephen said.
This station also played classical music, but periodically provided some version of the following announcement: “The measures to carry out the decision of the Council of Ministers are taking effect. Our state will no longer allow the West to continue plundering our socialist worker’s haven. The East-West border will be closed temporarily. New procedures for passage between the two areas of Berlin will soon be implemented.”
I tried to call Robert to assure him of my safety, but the attempt resulted in a busy signal. When I dialed other numbers in West Berlin, they were also blocked.
Turning to Papa, I said, “Apparently all phone lines to the West have been disconnected.”
We ate breakfast and continued to listen to the news broadcast, which contained little new information.
“Papa, do you think I can safely return to the West?” I asked.
“I’ll try to find out.” After two calls he hugged me, saying, “No one knows if the border is open to West German citizens.”
I went outside. Everything appeared to be normal—a typically quiet and peaceful summer Sunday morning.
Mama requested, “We all need to go to church this morning to pray for peace.”
We all agreed.
“Germany and the world have had too much war already,” seemed to be the collective sentiment we heard from others after church.
My father’s private conversations with men and women I recognized as East German government employees revealed that they did not know if people with West German passports could return to the West.
I needed to return to the West. Together, Robert and I could find a way to get my family out!
Mama served the big meal of the week, baked chicken and spaetzle. Midway through, Sophia dared to say what we all thought. “We should have all gone long ago. There is nothing here for us. They claim that closing the border will be temporary. Since those communist bastards always say the opposite of the truth, we will probably be stuck here forever.”
“I’ll make more phone calls and see if I can discern what is happening,” Papa said. “One of my patients is a senior official in the Ministry of Interior. He may be able to tell me something.”
After the third phone call, Papa turned to me, raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “No one knows for sure if individuals with West German identity papers will be allowed to leave.”
“I must try to get back to Robert. I’ll pack my things and leave soon.”
“Perhaps you should wait until we know more.”
“No. Papa. I must try now!”
Chapter 97
Robert
Sunday, August 13, 1961
Once I was alone in my tank, thoughts of what could happen to Anna overwhelmed me.
My heart rate accelerated. I gasped for breath. My field of vision shrank, and I felt tingling in my extremities. I stretched out on my desk and I used deep, controlled breathing with my diaphragm to calm down.
A little while later, I used the telephone on the desk outside of the tank in an attempt to call Anna at her parent’s home. All I got was a busy signal.
I forced myself to focus on the Colonel’s orders, went to the third floor and found the Chief and Sergeant Loring in the mess hall.
Working feverishly, the three of us devised two plans of action for rapid completion of the Signals Exploitation Center, with accompanying schedules. One required additional manpower, and the other necessitated extended hours and weekend work for the current crew.
At precisely 0745, the three of us made our way to Colonel Morgan’s office. “We’re ready to discuss various construction options, sir.”
His nodded. “Be seated. First, I’ll bring you up to date on the latest developments. Our signal intelligence intercepts over the last few hours indicate that Russian and East German Air Forces are in an enhanced state of readiness. Over a hundred interceptor and fighter-bomber aircraft are sitting on the ground, armed, pilots in their cockpits, ready to be scrambled on a moment’s notice….”
“—What’s going on along the barrier between the two Berlins?” I asked.
“Captain Taylor, tell us what you’ve been able to determine,” Colonel Morgan requested.
“As you know, until today the eighty-one crossing points, including those in the underground system, have provided easy access through the fence between the two Berlins for everyone. Shortly after sunrise this morning, East German construction crews began to install concertina wire, new fences, tank traps, and concrete barriers across most of those checkpoints.”
“Show them the Polaroid photos you took,” the Colonel directed.
Handing us several images, Scott said, “As you can see, concertina wire has entirely closed the Brandenburg Gate crossing point. Apparently, most of the other crossing points between East and West have also been barricaded.”
“Are they building defensive positions as if preparing for war?” I asked.
“Only tank traps. It seems as if their objective is to seal the border between the two Berlins. Subway service has been halted, and some underground stations are reportedly being sealed. On the way back here, I stopped at the Potsdamer Platz crossing point. It was closed, but there was no construction evident.”
My heart sank.
“Captain Kerr, proceed with your briefing.” Colonel Morgan said.
By focusing on the information on those few pieces of paper, I managed to avoid another panic attack. I shut out the reality of my desperate personal situation.
Chapter 98
Anna
Sunday, August 13, 1961
After lunch, I hugged everyone and made my goodbyes like I was going on a long trip. Mama broke down, sobbing as I walked out the door. Papa accompanied me to the subway station. Once there he whispered, “Anna, if you cannot get over safely, return home immediately. I have friends. We’ll get you back to Robert somehow. Don’t take any risks.”
“Yes, Papa, I understand.” Tears welled in my eyes.
“Write often. Your mother worries so about you.”
“Papa, you are acting as if we might never see each other again. Surely…”
“—I expect the worst,” he said. “We’ll be like caged animals, trained to be perfect communists. That is their objective!”
After hugging me for a long time, he walked away, stoop-shouldered, tears running down his face.
My optimism suddenly dissolved. I might never see my family again and wept over our fate. After I thought about Robert and our future together, I managed to regain my composure. I joined a group of nervous people awaiting the next westbound train. Some held packages, others suitcases and some carried nothing. Usually, I changed trains on the way to the subway station closest to our apartment. I decided to stay on this train, which made three stops on the way to the West at Potsdamer Platz.
After we boarded the train, the woman next to me whispered, “I heard this train no longer goes to West Berlin. Is that correct?”
“I don’t know. It used to go there.”
“We will just have to hope. I was visiting relatives in the East.” She tightly gripped her West German Passport.
“Me too.” The dull ache in my heart refused to go away. Thinking of being permanently separated from Robert made me physically ill.
The lady next to me touched my arm and smiled. I took her hand and squeezed it.
Millions of families like ours would be separated by this evil barrier. The communists were utterly depraved.
Clutching a cardboard suitcase, the young man on my left cowered. “I came from Dresden yesterday. I had hoped to pass through to the West today.”
“I hope you’re successful.” I feared he’d waited too long.
Across from me sat a woman with three children. She repeatedly looked up, as if praying. “Will my children ever see their grandparents again?”
One stop short of my destination, the train stopped. The conductor repeatedly announced, “End of the line. All out!” Once on the subterranean platform, uniformed transit police shouted, “Westerners and tourists are to go to the Potsdamer Platz checkpoint. If your papers are in order, you will be allowed to proceed. Citizens of the DDR are to go about their business.” This message was repeated again and again as if we were deaf and dumb herd animals.
Several apparent emigres joined us Westerners as we trudged almost in a formation toward the West and freedom. The heat of the August sun and tension of the unknown caused us all to perspire.
The young man from Dresden walked next to me. He gasped and pointed to our right. Two tanks with DDR markings had been positioned to ambush any Western forces that might try to tear down the new barriers with force.
Ahead, I saw numerous armed individuals in a variety of uniforms. The young man whispered, “They look like they mean business.” He threw his suitcase over a wall as we passed a government building. I stopped, opened my small bag, and threw a wheel of cheese and several sausages Mama had given me over the same wall. There were laws about taking food from the East.
Border guards carefully examined each individual’s papers, thus prolonging the process. At the head of the line, an older woman was suddenly seized by the elbow and escorted into a waiting van. The young Dresdener, who stood ahead of me, slipped out of line and went back. I assumed he would try to retrieve his suitcase and think about what was next for him.
I had applied for new identity papers, but they hadn’t arrived from Bonn. The passport I clasped in my hand still indicated that I was Anna Fischer, born in East Berlin. I removed my wedding ring and slipped it into my pocket.
Perhaps twenty people stood in line ahead of me. I suddenly felt the earth drop out from under my feet. Unable to move, I clenched my teeth. Captain Gustav Mueller had emerged from a shack and now hovered near the border guards supervising the exit process.
He’ll arrest me.
My mouth went dry; I began to tremble. My legs felt frozen in place. Mueller stepped forward to answer a guard’s question about something. Finally, out of his line of sight, I slipped out of line undetected and returned East.
At the first available pay phone, I rang Papa’s surgery.
“Doktor Fischer. May I help you?”
“Papa. I cannot go through the Potsdamer Platz checkpoint. Gustav Mueller is there. I told you what he did.”
“Call back in ten minutes.”
I paced back and forth, continuously glancing at my watch. Finally, I dialed the number.
“Anna?”
“Yes.”
“The Friedrichstrasse crossing point is still open. It’s a little over a kilometer from you. Go there. Let us know you’re safe if you can. Remember, we all love you.”
I hurried down Leipziger Strasse, past rows of government office buildings.
When I reached the Friedrichstrasse checkpoint, people on both sides of the border waved at each other. A young woman stopped me. “Do you see that young man over there in the gray suit?” she asked as she pointed.
“Yes, I see him.”
“We were supposed to be married next weekend. We have an apartment already furnished; all my possessions are over there. Everything. I just came to stay with my parents for one night. Now, who knows? Ask him to wait for me.”
Hugging her, I promised, “I’ll tell him.”
Although two people ahead of me were taken out of line, I nervously passed through as the border guard gave my papers and possessions only a cursory glance.
Elated, I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs, “I made it—freedom and Robert.”
Approaching the young man in the gray suit, I conveyed the girl’s message. He waved to her, tears in his eyes. I gave this complete stranger a long hug. Fate can be so cruel.
Elated, I floated on and off of two trains, and then ran to the door of our apartment house. After several attempts, I shoved the key in the lock, ran up five flights of stairs and joyfully flung our door open. In anticipation of the safety of his arms, I called out, “Robert, I’m home safely. Robbie? Robbie, honey?”
The bed was unmade; his pajamas and evidence of a quick shower scattered about the bedroom. His uniform was gone from the closet. He hadn’t left a note. The American military must be on duty, I concluded. I turned on the radio and listened to the same old news.
Huddling in the chair next to the radio, I didn’t feel safe. Would the Americans just accept the division of Berlin and Germany?
The world is changing again. Will those I love survive in this new world?
Chapter 99
Robert
The Berlin Tunnel Page 25