The Iron Hammer

by J. M. Briggs

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he called out. “I understand and recognize that the recent news is very exciting, but normal life still goes now. Please focus on your lessons.” Gesturing to the board behind him, Gottfried was pleased to see that he had captured their attention. “Language will matter a great deal as the world marches on.”

  “The whole world will speak German soon!” One young man near the back shouted which made others cheer.

  There was a moment of hesitation on his part. His chest tightened with worry about saying the wrong thing. Then he smiled slightly and gave a fond nod to the students. “You’ll find that language changes take a great deal of time and if you have plans to join the army and assist in that dream then knowing another language will be of great use to you.”

  His stomach turned as his eyes swept across the students. They were so young, so full of potential and he knew that there were some who disagreed with the Nazi machine. There were plenty who did and suffered in the same silence as him thanks to the threat of the Gestapo and their re-education programs. Still, there were others who were all too eager to throw themselves into the ideology. Too many men in this class would vanish into the army and too many of the clever women would become relegated to being housewives no matter what ambitions and talents they possessed.

  Pushing the thought away and noting that his class had finally settled, Gottfried turned back to the blackboard and began to lecture about verb changes in French. The two hours slowly ticked by and he felt the weight of the students’ eyes on him heavier than usual. It wasn’t inspiring and energizing as it usually was. Fear that he’d said the wrong thing and someone behind him was stewing on it was churning in his stomach.

  Then class was over and he forced a friendly smile as the students began to pack up. A few returned the warm smiles and most didn’t seem to care at all. The knot began to loosen and Gottfried began to feel like he’d dodged the bullet that the energy of the annexation news was bringing. He’d just have to be mindful this week until all the celebrations and excitement died down, just like most of the population. With a slight smile, he followed the students out into the hallway and began working his way towards his office.

  “Professor Eckstein.”

  Gottfried turned around and searched for the source of the voice amongst the students, but his eyes were quickly drawn to the small mousey man walked towards him. He was towered over by the students, but they dutifully parted for him. Gottfried stepped to the side of the hallway and waited patiently.

  “Mister Grubber.”

  “Professor Eckstein, the department chair wants to see you in his office at once.” There was no emotion in his voice and Gottfried was reminded why the student called him a robot. Gottfried almost smiled at the thought, his mind reminding him that the source of the word was an old Slavonic word, rabota. It meant forced labor and hadn’t originally had anything to do with the new ideas of mechanical men. “There is an SS officer here.”

  Gottfried’s amusement was gone in a moment. He managed a nod and kept his back straight, desperately hoping that there was no panic on his face. Reminding himself that it was an SS officer and not Gestapo, he struggled to relax the tension in his spine. He followed him upstairs and noted with a hint of relief that they were headed to the Linguist Department chair’s office. This was just a meeting, he told himself and he had a strong suspicion of the topic.

  The Department Chair’s office was only slightly larger than his own and had a window overlooking the front of the school, but was typical in every other fashion. Bookshelves stuffed with books lined one wall interspersed with keepsakes from his travels. A small name plaque with Professor Schneider was front and center on the desk in front of an older gentleman who was completely gray and balding. Near the desk stood a tall man in the uniform of an SS major who eyed him as he entered. His escort didn’t enter and closed the door behind him with a soft thump, trapping him in the situation he’d been avoiding.

  “Profess Eckstein there is concern that you have yet to join the Nazi party.” Professor Schneider folded his hands on the desk in front of him. Thankfully he looked just as nervous. “Questions that I’m sure you understand are better left unspoken are being directed towards our department, both from local officials and students,” he added carefully as his eyes urged Gottfried to understand the seriousness of what he was saying. “Is there something we should be aware of?”

  “No,” he answered quickly. It was difficult to stay still in the chair. He’d known it was coming. Of course, it was coming. Popularity with the students had protected him for a time, but as the Nazi mindset sank deeper and deeper into the generation that wouldn’t be enough. “Nothing of concern.” He forced a chuckle. “I’ve just always avoided politics I’m afraid, always hesitated to burden a party with my participation.”

  The joke was a bit flat, but it had the needed effect of easing the tension a little. Gottfried’s heart clenched, but he stayed calm even under the weight of the officer’s gaze. “I am a family man who has always been content with my wife, children, and classes, but if you feel this is an important step for me Aldman then I will of course officially join.”

  “Thank you, Gottfried.” Aldman sighed in relief with his shoulder visibly loosening. “I know that in the academic world we prefer to focus on our students and classes, but solidarity with the outside world is important too. We want students to be able to see that their university supports their efforts for the future.”

  Translation: we can’t dare be seen as opposition. Gottfried studied his colleague, but he couldn’t tell how much of it Aldman actually believed.

  “Thank you for bringing the concerns to my attention,” Gottfried replied politely.

  Standing up, he shook hands with Aldman who looked as relieved as he felt. It reassured him a little that Aldman hadn’t been planning to throw him to the wolves. The weight of the officer’s gaze on his back was still heavy, but it wasn’t as frightening. Turning to the officer, Gottfried gave him a respectful nod and waited for a beat to see if he would leave first. He didn’t and Gottfried ushered himself out the door.

  Releasing a soft exhale, Gottfried kept moving away from the office on shaky legs. He debated the wisdom of going to his office to grade but doubted his own mental state. A quick mental review of his schedule confirmed he had only the one lecture today. If he took the earliest train in tomorrow he’d be able to catch up on his work.

  “Professor Eckstein,” the sharp voice of the officer called behind him.

  Gottfried stopped at once and turned to face the officer. He didn’t smile in greeting. It didn’t feel appropriate as he found himself facing the SS officer. The man’s eyes swept over him and he made a tiny nod. Gottfried knew he’d just been judged and inwardly prayed that he hadn’t been found wanting or lacking.

  “Your language skills are highly regarded by your colleagues. Fluent in what ten languages?”

  “Yes, though that includes German. I had the advantage of learning Latin as a young man which made the Romantic languages much easier.” He stopped himself from saying more despite the instinct to ramble.

  The officer hummed thoughtfully and nodded once again. “Excellent. Someone of your skills could be of great use to the Fatherland.”

  There it was. Join the Nazi Party to show unity and loyalty, but he was already being considered for something more. The knot in his stomach managed to tighten as the officer nodded to him once more. Then the man walked past him calmly as if he hadn’t just twisted another man’s world around. Breathing in slowly, Gottfried forced him trembling legs to keep moving. Ahead of him, the SS officer had been stopped by a group of male students who were asking him questions with bright eager eyes. Gottfried kept walking and didn’t even slow down until he was outside the building.

  He allowed himself to get lost in thought as he made his way towards the train station, grateful for the chance to stretch his legs. With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head. That was that now. Part of
him railed against the idea, arguing that he was an educator and had to stand up, but the faces of his children flashed through his head. If he had been younger when this all happened and they hadn’t been born yet… Shaking his head, Gottfried dismissed the fanciful idea. It was easy to fall back to ideas of what if, but at the end of the day he had a family and was choosing them. He’d always chose them.

  The echoing sound of in time footfalls began to resonant around him and finally pulled him from his thoughts. People were beginning to stop and gather in lines along the street. Cheers were already bursting forth from the small crowd. He walked forward to join them and silently peered down the street. They were marching again. He stopped to watch the lines of Hitler Youth boys parade with their Nazi flags and in their neat uniforms down the street in their lines. It was a drill, just like the one that soldiers used and it made his stomach turn. They were just children yet the looks on their faces carried a hint of something darker. People were coming out of the buildings and cheering on the small parade. Women with special medals around their neck marking how many children they had produced for the Fatherland cheered the loudest. A few of the younger boys broke from the military procedure long enough to smile and give a small wave before they were reined in by their fellow little soldiers.

  That’s what they were, Gottfried reflected with a grimace, little soldiers. The Germany army was expanding every day and no one with any brains was foolish enough to think that Austria was the end of it. Even his own students already knew the dream. Even they were aware of the true dream that all the world would speak German. The leaders kept marching, their eyes forward and center and any smiles they might have once had stubbornly kept repressed. This was what Enrich wanted for himself, it was a bitter idea and another one he had no power against. Frustration and anger flashed through him and Gottfried grit his teeth to the point of pain.

  He waited until the parade was past to start walking again and kept his head down. Right now he didn’t trust himself at all. The train station seemed too far away and every step along the same street where the boys had been playing soldiers was uncomfortable. Gottfried looked around at the businesses thoughtfully. Most were doing better under the Nazi party for sure. He couldn’t argue with some aspects of their success. The public works program had already built more new infrastructure than they’d seen since before the Great War.

  Shuddering, Gottfried kept walking. He didn’t want to think about that war or its aftermath. The anger was still there below the surface of Germany. The unfair treaty, the financial burdens on a destroyed country and the humiliations of it all were all still here. Everyone had struggled under the weak democracy. Money had been all but worthless. There’d been too many parties and too many problems without cooperation to fix. Anger at each other, the government and the rest of Europe had been simmering below the surface for years.

  The Nazis had tapped into that and made it the fuel of a new fire. They hadn’t needed a majority to get Hitler into office or public support. Fear and anger had been their instruments with Hitler’s Stormtroopers spreading them through Germany. Now there was no end to it all. They had their economic recovery, they had reminded the world that they weren’t a dog to kick and had an important position on the world stage, but what came next? Far behind he thought he could hear the boys marching in their lines. A shiver went down Gottfried’s spine, he had his answer.

  19

  Vision in Paris

  Alex frowned at the display, trying to muster up her admittedly rusty French and sort out exactly what they wanted. Next to her Aiden and Nicki were loading up the canvas shopping bag with bread and some plastic cutlery. She could hear Lance and Jenny in the next aisle over discussing sodas and how to chill them.

  “Honestly Alex,” Nicki suddenly laughed. “Just grab some meats. It’ll be fine.”

  “I’m trying to remember-”

  “If it looks like lunch meat we’re probably safe,” Aiden said. “Come on, it’ll be fine.”

  Sighing, Alex conceded that they were probably right and grabbed a package of what she was pretty sure was ham and some turkey. She tossed them into the shopping bag and hoped that she hadn’t gotten it wrong. It was a bit funny that she could hold a basic conversation in French but hadn’t ever learned anything beyond core foods. She knew pineapple, pie, and cake, but not turkey.

  “Relax,” Aiden said as they headed for the front. “We’re getting something to eat and then we’ll go to work.”

  Alex nodded but stayed silent. She wasn’t sure how to even begin to explain the nervous excitement teamed with dread that was building up in her stomach. Around her the sights and smells of Paris blended together, but she only felt distant from all of it. This was a dream come true, a dream that had caused her to take French in the hopes of one day being able to come to Paris and read old French literature. It was all a bit empty now.

  There was a faint hum at the back of her mind, but Alex couldn’t focus on it. A dull headache trying to start, her mind suggested though Alex wasn’t sure she believed such a simple explanation. Pushing it to the side, Alex moved to the front of the group and greeted the cashier in slow, but precise French which earned her a smile and a small look of approval. Something about the expression helped even as something stirred at the back of her mind as if she’d forgotten something. It passed quickly as the cashier turned her attention to the next customer and Alex’s friends steered her outside.

  One nice thing about heading for the Eiffel Tower was that it was easy to know which direction to go. Around them were shorter historical buildings and tourist markers directing the flow of foot traffic as they navigated their way around the busy streets. As they came closer and closer to the famous landmark Alex looked around for anything that seemed familiar. Unfortunately, she wasn’t certain was might be familiar from another life or what was just familiar from books and movies.

  Then they reached a stretch of road and park that gave Alex a clear view of the Eiffel Tower. Her heart skipped in excitement at the sight of the elegant metal structure, but not as much as she’d always imagined it would. Everyone stopped and enjoyed the view for a long moment. A soft sigh escaped Jenny and Alex turned to find her friend resting her head against the side of Lance’s arm while they held hands. Alex looked back at it and tried to summon her relish for finally seeing it in person, but it just wasn’t there.

  Some of the locals were still wearing jackets, but to Alex, it was warm and pleasant as they found an empty spot of grass. Alex looked up at the tower again, trying to picture it with the Nazi flag flying, but found the idea too distasteful. Thankfully she was distracted from the echo of the past by Jenny beginning to lay out their associated meats, bread, and condiments. Lance handed her a small can of soda that she took with a soft thanks. The others had everything in hand while Alex felt lost. It was rather like being a boat on the water without a line, anchor or captain the literature major in her thought. She just… lacked something to grab onto. She frowned at the thought, unsure of what to make of her own stream of consciousness.

  “Alex,” Bran’s voice called. “What kind of sandwich do you want?” Blinking her eyes, Alex focused on him. The others were watching her with soft sympathetic looks that made her feel ever worse. “Turkey?” Bran pressed, never taking his eyes off of her. “Ham?”

  “Uh turkey,” she answered, shaking her head and forcing a smile. “Sorry, I’m a bit… out of it.”

  That statement earned her worried glances from everyone except Bran who merely nodded at her. Forcing a smile, Alex looked back at the tower for a bit. There was a hum at the back of her head again as her eyes traced the iron lattice structure and she wondered how effective the metal would be against the Sídhe.

  Then her eyes shifted to the thick hedges that lined the lawn. Beyond them were elegant building and all the clichés of Paris with postcard facades on the buildings, flower boxes, bright signs, and music. In contrast to Wales where even the newer buildings had an old feel to th
em almost everything here seemed young and new to Alex. Suddenly a sandwich wrapped in a napkin was thrust towards her by Jenny.

  “Thanks,” Alex murmured quickly. She took the offered food. Around them, the thrum of Paris and the voices of other tourists churned into a mess she couldn’t make out. “Looks good,” she added absentmindedly before taking a bite.

  The sandwich didn’t have much of a taste, but then again she didn’t feel hungry. Instead, she watched Jenny take a few selfies with herself and the Eiffel Tower. Then she handed the phone over to Nicki and tugged Lance over to be in a picture with her. There were other tourists moving around the lawn, pointing up at the tower and taking photos so no one paid them any mind. A few officers were patrolling nearby and everything seemed very normal with a hint of familiarity.