by Jan Casey
The second leaflet addressed just that conundrum and spoke to the type of person they would most like to enlist – the young intellectual. Not that they wouldn’t embrace anyone from any background, but they thought they could instigate a more rapid and committed uprising from the intelligentsia. So, they wrote about the fact that National Socialism could not be defended or engaged with on an intellectual basis because it could not be debated in any kind of logical manner as it was built on constant lies. They quoted Hitler’s book, which they pointed out was written in terrible German. ‘You would not believe,’ Hitler had written, ‘how one must deceive a nation in order to rule it.’ If she was not already against Hitler and his party, that one quote would have set her in opposition to him with a passion.
They then went on to say that since Poland had been conquered, hundreds of thousands of Jews had been murdered. She remembered that cattle train standing, waiting on the platform in the station and wondered about the fate of all those Jewish people who had been forced to board it. Over and over again in the leaflets they encouraged others to break loose from their chains of apathy and join their movement to fight, passively, for the freedom of all.
The third leaflet caused a lot of debate. ‘Perhaps we should narrow our target audience again to devout Lutherans and Catholics,’ said Ilse.
‘If,’ argued Fred, ‘we can commandeer the influential religious, we will be heard by untold numbers.’
‘Yes,’ said Gustav, ‘that makes sense. So we would, in effect, have the best of both worlds.’
‘Exactly,’ said Fred, smacking the table for emphasis.
‘I agree and think that instead of quoting Lao-Tse, Aristotle and Goethe,’ said Ernst, ‘we should concentrate on Novalis and King Solomon’s Proverbs.’
Again they begged readers to think about what their religious beliefs demanded of them and asked them to be courageous and not stand back in the hope that someone else would speak out so they would not have to put their necks on the line. They likened Hitler to Satan and said that everything that came out of his mouth was evil. Then they asked two things of people. First, to consider the fact that the numbers lost on the Russian Front were just that to the Nazi regime: numbers. But there were mothers all over Germany weeping for their sons who were the whole world to them. They also asked everyone to be vigilant and note the names of anyone who was the least bit involved with the Nazis; they agreed that no one should be allowed to escape their engagement with the Party.
Whilst Annie did, in theory, agree with that sentiment, she aired her doubts. ‘But where does it stop?’ she said. ‘We all Heil Hitler many times a day. Are we complicit?’
The others put down their pens and were thoughtful. That gave her confidence and thinking of Walther, she carried on. ‘I mean, how do we know who is and who isn’t committed by the mere fact that they’re in uniform?’
‘Yes, Annie, you have a point,’ said Gustav.
‘A good point,’ agreed Ilse.
Fred shook his head and raised his voice. ‘How will anyone ever sort out the good from the bad? It seems like an impossible task.’
‘But one that is not our problem, perhaps?’ Otto puffed on his pipe and spoke slowly and deliberately as if he was trying out his theory on himself. ‘Our problem is the here and now. Not what happens in the future. We must ensure that we have gathered as many names as we can of possible guilty parties, then trust that justice will once again rule the day.’
‘But what if we know, for certain and without doubt, that someone in uniform is not in agreement with the regime?’ Annie asked.
‘Then, dear Annie—’ Fred smiled at her as if he could read her thoughts ‘—you must not put them on your list. Create another list for them, that of the exonerated.’
Helmuth nodded then put his finger in the air, which was his way of letting them know he had what he thought was a good idea. ‘For a closing line, as we are addressing the religious population, how about saying that we will not be silenced and that we are their conscience.’
‘Yes,’ said Gerda – a new member of their group. ‘That is good. Their guilty conscience.’
In the freezing cold of January, with snow on the ground and not enough fat on their limbs or wood on the fire to warm them, they discussed the fourth leaflet. After that, there were no leaflets for some months as a good few of the men were sent off to the Russian Front with the medical corps. And of course, they would all be on the list of the exempt. Those of them who were left behind decided that they would wait until their comrades returned to carry on with their campaign. A certain period of silence might help to assuage any suspicion surrounding them and it would give them time to gauge if their crusade had instigated other similar movements around the country.
When all the medics returned home, they had many stories to tell about the Front. Annie’s heart felt as if it was going to split apart when Otto and Gustav told them about the atrocities and deprivation the soldiers were enduring. Injuries beyond comprehension: a leg completely shredded; holes in the middle of stomachs; internal organs missing yet a heart still pumping; blindness; scarring; limping; screaming; tongues severed; wits lost; gaping mouths. One poor boy looked perfect until his head was turned and they could see that half his face was missing. ‘Let me die,’ he’d pleaded with them.
‘The warfare,’ Gustav reported, ‘is like nothing experienced before; Stalingrad is being fought for by one soldier against another in hand-to-hand combat. It is a rats’ war,’ he said. The image of rodents scuttling around in brown uniforms was vivid in Annie’s mind. ‘They fight for every inch of street, every ruined building, factory, house, sewer, basement and staircase.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Otto. ‘One side captures the bedroom but still has to fight for the kitchen.’
‘And the cold,’ Helmuth added. ‘We think we have it bad here, shivering from house to shop to pub to work. But there, in Stalingrad, it is minus twenty-two and lower, and there is no hope of shelter or comforting food or the smile of a loved one to look forward to. There are so many cases of frostbite. Soldiers take their boots off after months of continuous wear and their toes come off with them.’ He shivered with repulsion. ‘I cannot imagine the pain and horror. And for what? One vile madman’s egotistical pursuit of power.’
After they had sat in silence for a few minutes, probably contemplating, as Annie was, the suffering the soldiers were going through, she tentatively asked if any of them had come across a medic named Walther Wilhelm.
‘Ah,’ Otto said. ‘Walther. His tour overlapped for a few days with my section. I didn’t realise that he was the Walther you are keen on, Annie, or else I would have mentioned you.’
She was so relieved to hear of Walther, that a beam spread across her face. ‘Well, I am so glad you didn’t,’ she said. ‘Because he doesn’t know about my involvement in our group and he would have been full of questions about how I know you.’
‘Of course,’ Otto said, putting his hand on Annie’s shoulder. ‘Perhaps when he returns we can sound him out to join us. What do you think? I believed him to be a good man when I met him.’
Annie was elated to have her perception of Walther affirmed, which was just as well as before he left for the Front, they’d acknowledged their feelings for each other out loud. And if they hadn’t been close before that, things became very intense afterwards.
All the others in Otto’s tiny flat were either reading, writing, making lists of references or folding paper in readiness for their fifth leaflet, Annie was trying to concentrate on proofreading, but images of what had happened between her and Walther after their declaration insisted on crowding into her mind. Glancing over at Fred who was scribbling intently, she wondered if he was having the same problem with pictures of Viola.
She had been happy to find out that Walther was as naïve as she was when it came to matters of love and what people did together, so she knew he hadn’t visited brothels like a tomcat or tried his luck with other young women, which
in her estimation made him most honourable – and all hers. They had fumbled and faffed for a while and then, true to their established dispositions, laughed at themselves and each other. They gave up that first time and Walther said, ‘Let’s just lie like this for now. It’s enough for me. Is it for you, Annaliese?’
‘Yes,’ she said. Because it was more than enough to be wrapped in his strong, warm arms knowing that he loved her for her, not for what he could get from her.
There were two more, successful attempts after which Walther said that they were married in the oldest and truest sense and would make it official as soon as possible. Of course, they would have to obtain the approval of his parents and Fred, but she thought there was no doubt both parties would be agreeable. And when the wedding happened, she knew she would be thinking about her brother, whose father-in-law-to-be had said no and who pined for his Viola every minute of every day.
She worried too, not only for Walther’s safety, but for how he would react to what he had seen on the battlefield. Would he be different? Of course he would. Who could not be moved by such sights? But she wondered how this would affect him over the years. He could become kinder, if that was possible, or angrier or he could be plagued by demons that would not allow him to sleep. Well, they would have to deal with those consequences if and when they arose. For now, the most important thing was that he returned home – that and the proofreading.
*
Annie could hardly believe what she had seen and heard. She felt as if she had been through the highs and lows of every known emotion – her heart racing, armpits clammy and legs trembling the entire day.
The Gauleiter of Munich and Upper Bavaria, Paul Giesler, had come to speak to university students in the Main Auditorium of the Deutsche Museum. That disgusting man had addressed the crowd of students who had gathered and proceeded to denounce all the men who were not serving in the army. He’d called them skulkers and shirkers and dared to say that they were not honestly clever and that their intellects were twisted. Then her jaw had almost hit the floor when he stated that the only real way of life could be transmitted by Hitler alone with his light, joyful and life-affirming teachings. The audacity of the man was completely and utterly unbelievable. The boys had started to boo and hiss and shout out to him that he was abhorrent and worse. Then he’d made obscene remarks to the female students, saying they were not doing their duty which was to ‘service’ Wehrmacht officers. Giesler had commanded his SS thugs to arrest the students, but other young people came to the rescue and fights broke out all over the hall.
Annie had been standing at the back with Fred, a few other members of staff and Frans, a lecturer who had recently joined their resistance group.
She became so excited to witness this act of rebellion that she moved to join in, but Fred put a hand on her arm and held her back. Disbelieving, she looked at him with a frown. He shook his head imperceptibly, something he had to do to her quite often, to warn her that it wasn’t her place to join in. But how she itched to do so; every nerve in her body screeching out for her to raise her fists, pick up a chair and hurl it, kick the brute and his hangers-on, be a part of this orchestrated chaos.
Giesler was surrounded by his guards and whisked away, so the surging crowd tried to head them off at the side door or as they were getting into their cars or opening the gates. The rioters formed themselves into a group, marching and singing songs of protest until the police, armed to the hilt, forced them to go their separate ways. How wonderful it was to see the students’ attempts; they looked and sounded like noble savages defending their territory from invaders when in fact, the barbarians were the ones being hunted.
It seemed that no one could settle back into their work after that, especially as they could hear chants and shouts from outside. So a number of their group convened in the dining hall. They knew, of course, who they could trust but they also knew that they could not express their concurrence with the student uprising in this public place. Instead, they drank tea and coffee and tried to convey their admiration by widening their eyes or subtly nodding their heads or nudging each other under the table. Very few people were talking. Some other members of staff looked terrified. One poor woman was pale and her friends were waving a handkerchief in front of her face. Others were shocked and Annie wondered how many, like them, were holding back on their true thoughts and feelings.
On the way home, Annie held on to Fred’s arm and whispered to him, ‘Do you think our leaflets had anything to do with the riot today?’
‘It’s hard to tell,’ he said. ‘And it doesn’t really matter what or who is the source of that kind of resistance, the main point is that it occurred.’ Then he smiled more broadly than he had for some time. ‘But I like to think so,’ he said.
She agreed, with a grin to mirror his.
*
When the authorities pompously announced that they had resumed Luftwaffe raids on London, Fred became even more afflicted with worry. Annie could hear him pacing up and down into the small hours and when they left each morning for work, he had dark purple pouches under his eyes.
Over a supper of stew, which Frau Wilhelm had brought round for them, Annie watched Fred pick the fat off the few bits of meat in his bowl and move them around with his fork.
‘Eat that,’ Annie commanded. ‘You need it to keep strong.’
He pierced the lardy lump and held it up for her to inspect. It was thick and yellow and smelled a bit rancid. Her stomach turned although she had set upon all of hers with a fervour. ‘This?’ he said. ‘Good for me? There is no nutrition in this, Annie.’
‘Well, it will keep you warm.’
Without laughing he said, ‘You sound just like Mum. And Oma.’
‘That’s not such a bad thing,’ she said. ‘So don’t think that can insult me.’
He threw down his fork. ‘I’m sorry, I am angry and frustrated and so worried about…’
‘Vi,’ Annie finished for him. ‘I am in the same boat as you.’
‘But unlike you with Walther, I have no idea where Viola is. I hope she’s still in Cambridge, or that she’s returned to live with her parents. But then again I have no information about those places. They might be razed to the ground for all I know.’
‘Why not work on the assumption that if they were, Hitler would boast about it without hesitation.’
‘Wise Annie,’ he said. ‘But perhaps she’s moved to London for work? We do know that city is on its knees and now the Luftwaffe is battering them again. My dear, sweet Vi.’ He put his head in his hands and wept, one dry sob escaping from between his fingers. ‘How I long to be with her and take care of her. I am the only one who can do that.’
Annie put her arm around him and rubbed his back. Then she took his plate away and scraped his leftovers into a bowl to reheat the next day.
*
20 January 1943
It must be lack of nutrition, but I have missed my monthly visitor twice. And the odd feeling in my breasts? I’m sure it is just the vivid imagination that Fred has accused me of having all my life. But I so wish Walther were here.
The fifth leaflet, written by Fred, was ready for distribution and they decided to circulate it far and wide instead of concentrating on the immediate vicinity. Annie volunteered, with Ilse and Gerda, to take as many as possible in their knapsacks to Berlin. Fred was against the idea, but Annie stood up to him saying that although she was pleased he was taking care of her, she sometimes felt as if he was treating her like a child. ‘I’m a member of the group in my own right and want to do my part,’ she said one morning before they left for work.
Fred huffed and leaned back against the sink. ‘Annie.’ His voice was pleading. ‘Try to look at things from my point of view.’
‘But you wouldn’t say that to Gerda and Ilse. In front of everyone.’
‘They are not my responsibility. You are.’
‘I was. But am I still?’
‘Yes,’ Fred said. ‘And like it or not, you
always will be.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Annie softened. ‘To be a burden.’
Fred rubbed his temples. ‘You’re never that,’ he said. ‘But who do we have but each other?’
When Annie looked at him, she saw how worry had eaten lines into his forehead. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I promise to take care of myself.’
‘Okay.’ He smiled. ‘And I promise to try not to treat you like a baby, until the next time you behave like one. Which I guarantee won’t be too far off.’
‘Enough,’ Annie shouted, flicking him with a tea towel.
Covering his head with his hands, Fred cowered away from her. ‘Stop,’ he cried. ‘That’s soaking wet. And you’ve just proved my point beautifully.’
Gerda, who was petite and very pretty, said they should have a plan in case the three girls were stopped by the SS or other authorities. ‘We must say that one of us is recently engaged to a Wehrmacht officer and we are going to Berlin to buy wedding outfits. What do you think?’
Annie and Ilse thought that a good idea.
‘Gerda, you must play the part of the bride-to-be,’ said Ilse. ‘You will be able to best get away with it. We will pose as your friends.’
‘What if they check our knapsacks?’ Annie asked.
Gerda looked up through her eyelashes and curled her lips knowingly. ‘Then this is the first, and only thing they will draw out.’ She produced a pair of lacy undergarments. ‘That will please them and they will look no further. Believe me, those Nazis are very shallow and think of nothing except alcohol and what dangles between their legs.’
The other two girls liked the idea and said they would pad out their bags with their underwear. They would have to act a little bit innocent and a little bit worldly. Perhaps pretend they’d had a schnapps or two. And happy, definitely happy, that Gerda was romantically involved with a member of the regime. That thought made all three girls shudder.