Swan Song

by Elizabeth B. Splaine

“How can you be so sure?”

  “He seems to genuinely care for me.”

  “How do you feel about him?”

  Addi twisted her mouth. “He’s good to me, and I suppose that’s enough . . . for now, at least.”

  Ursula was pleased that Addi had negotiated a sense of security for herself. In so many ways Addi was more mature than she was. “Good. Let us know what you discover.”

  A woman hurried past them carrying a bundle of fabric and a teapot. They watched her enter an administrative building, drop her load on the floor, and exit again. As she passed them, Ilse muttered, “I believe that teapot belonged to Frau Hekker, may she rest in peace.”

  “The fabric was Marika’s,” Ursula said with disgust. “It was stolen from her a week before she died.”

  “I wonder if they plan on opening stores with merchandise that we already own?” Ilse mused. The woman passed them again, this time carrying several pairs of high-heeled shoes. She dropped them on top of the fabric and vanished again.

  Ilse rubbed her palms together and smiled. “Excuse me, ladies. I need to get some supplies for the children’s costumes.” She dashed to the building, grabbed the roll of royal blue fabric, and ran back to Dresden barracks, cackling as she made off with the material.

  Ursula smiled. “Marika would be proud of us.”

  Addi scoffed. “For stealing?”

  “It’s not stealing if you’re restoring something to its rightful place.”

  Ursula observed the woman return holding an armful of ladies clothing. As she deposited her load, the woman noted that the fabric was missing. She stood, turned around, and made eye contact with Ursula. “Did you take the cloth?”

  “Me? No.”

  The woman eyed her suspiciously. “Did you see someone else take the cloth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you tell me who it was so I can get it back?”

  Ursula stared at the woman and decided that she had been wrong about the dual nature of life in the ghetto. It wasn’t just good and evil. Not just light and dark, or black and white. It was a dull, practical gray that ruled daily decision making. Morality was no longer binary. It existed on a sliding scale.

  Ursula raised her chin. “No. I will not.”

  45

  Willy glanced out the window as they approached the Copenhagen airport. His only experience flying had been in his uncle’s smaller, private plane, and he was awed by the power of the larger U. S. government plane that now circled the airport. He had spent the entire trip pouring over European maps that outlined where Allied intelligence had located internment camps. He was determined to visit all of them until he found Ursula . . . or her body.

  He sat back in his seat and wondered if he was on a fool’s errand. His uncle had said that Ursula was dead, and he had told Otto that he believed it to be true. But what if she’s not? a voice whispered. What if she’s waiting for you to find her?

  Willy sighed heavily and shifted his attention to the events of the last few weeks. He felt as if he’d been drinking from a fire hose in learning his role as Wallenburg’s assistant and how the War Refugee Board functioned in relation to the International Red Cross. When he reached the point of feeling somewhat informed, he turned his attention to understanding the U.S. role on the international political stage. Many felt that the United States should have intervened sooner and done more to aid the plight of European Jews. Others seemed eager to maintain closely monitored borders to ensure that America wasn’t overrun with foreigners. Willy found the latter idea amusing, seeing as U.S. growth and success was built largely on the shoulders of foreigners’ ideas and investments. Despite his personal opinions, as Wallenburg’s assistant he was to be seen more than heard, so he found himself taking a crash course in diplomacy and etiquette as he negotiated the varying viewpoints.

  Bridget used some of his speaking money to purchase him three new suits, with coordinating ties and shoes. She also secured an apartment in Fairfax, Virginia, not too far away from where Willy worked in Washington, D.C. She and Otto had grown even closer since coming to the States, and Willy suggested that while he was abroad, she sell her house in England and investigate purchasing a home with money he’d earned from the speaking tour.

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” she protested.

  Willy placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve done some research, Mum, and I think being close to New York would be amazing.”

  Bridget scrunched her nose. “Too busy.”

  “Not New York City, but more north. The rest of New York State is beautiful. Maybe while I’m gone you and Otto can take a trip to investigate.”

  Otto smiled. “It sounds wonderful to me, Willy. We’ll find a home that can fit all four of us. Bridget, Ursula, you, and me. And perhaps some grandchildren as well.” He winked at Willy as Bridget playfully slapped his arm.

  Willy smiled at the memory as the Boeing 314 touched down in Denmark. He and Wallenburg disembarked, collected their belongings, and traveled to Christiansborg Palace, the seat of Denmark’s government. They were shown to a reception room that was befitting the name of the building in which it was housed. After only a few minutes, Willy recognized Franz Hvass as he entered the room with his hand extended in greeting.

  “Mr. Wallenburg, what a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Your fine reputation precedes you.”

  “You’re too kind. It’s my pleasure to meet you. May I present Willy Hitler, my assistant.”

  Hvass turned his appraising eye to Willy “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Hitler.”

  Willy shook his hand. “Thank you for hosting us.”

  Hvass raised his eyebrows. “Well, as you know, the king has instructed Juel Henningsen and me, along with someone from the International Red Cross, to visit Terezín to ensure our citizens are being treated well.”

  “Yes, and I’m glad that we have the opportunity to tag along as representatives of the WRB,” Wallenburg said.

  “I trust your travel was satisfactory?”

  “It was. Thank you.”

  Hvass turned to Willy. “You had no problem getting through the Nazi checkpoints?”

  “No, sir. It would seem that my uncle is treating Denmark with the respect it deserves.”

  “For now, at least. Everything can be negotiated, apparently. When the Germans attacked us in April, we quickly realized that the Nazi forces were too great. We had to make a choice. Fight and most likely lose or allow German occupation and carry on fairly normally. The government, in agreement with the king, chose the latter and, so far, hasn’t regretted the decision.”

  “I understand that your Jews are not required to wear a yellow star on their coats.”

  “That’s correct. That was part of our negotiation. The Nazis know who is Jewish and who isn’t, but we Danes don’t need to know, do we? Our citizens are Danish, regardless of their religion.”

  “If other leaders had taken the same stand, their countries might be in better bargaining positions,” Wallenburg commented.

  Hvass threw his hands wide. “Yet here we are. Now, tell me, Mr. Hitler, I understand you know someone who is incarcerated in a camp.”

  Willy told Hvass the story. The Danish diplomat was attentive, nodding now and then as he listened. When Willy had finished, Hvass slapped his knee. “By God, we must find your Ursula. If she’s as beautiful and talented as you say, she should be sharing her gifts with the world.”

  “There’s nothing I would like more.”

  Wallenburg asked, “Can you tell us more about Terezín?”

  Hvass cleared his throat, stood, and clasped his hands behind his back. “Well, first you should know that in German it is called Theresienstadt. Terezín is the Czech translation. Thirty miles north of Prague, Emperor Joseph II of Austria created a fortress in the late 1700s and named it after his mother, Empress Maria
Theresa. He called it Theresienstadt. It became a holiday getaway for local nobility. In late 1941 Hitler ordered his chief of the Gestapo, Reinhard Heydrich, to create a settlement to house Jews who were over sixty-five years of age, who had served honorably in the Great War, or who were of notable enough character that foreigners might inquire as to their whereabouts. Heydrich worked with Eichmann to convert Theresienstadt into what he called a spa town and claims that the inhabitants are being treated well. Hundreds of Danish Jews have been sent there and about fifty have died. We were told that they succumbed to diphtheria, but we questioned the care they received and the conditions in which they lived. At first, we were ignored. Our further inquiries were also ignored, so we contacted the International Red Cross, who began putting pressure on the Reich to address our outstanding questions. Finally, we received permission to visit Terezín.”

  “So, you are going with us to the camp?”

  “Yes. I’m going, along with Dr. Juel Henningsen, the head physician at our Ministry of Health, and Maurice Rossel, a representative of the International Red Cross.”

  “Why visit just one camp?” Willy asked.

  “I requested to visit Terezín because that’s where the Danes died.”

  “But would it be possible to expand our visit to other camps as well? I understand that there are several in the same general vicinity.”

  Hvass shook his head. “Impossible, Mr. Hitler. I think you’re underestimating the effort it took to secure this visit.”

  Willy held up his hand. “Of course. My apologies. I’m just anxious to find Ursula. If she’s not in Terezín, I can’t imagine returning to the States without her.”

  Hvass nodded. “I appreciate your predicament, but my mandate is to ensure my countrymen’s security.”

  “Of course.”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  Willy nodded. “Of course, sir.”

  “What will you do if you find her?”

  Willy blinked several times and then looked at Wallenburg, whose curious expression indicated his interest in the answer. Willy had imagined seeing Ursula again, scooping her up, and smothering her with kisses. He had envisioned her arms around his neck, and her laughter ringing in his ears. He had imagined them back in the United States, in their tidy, brick home with a white fence around the front yard, tulips popping up through the fresh earth in the spring. But he hadn’t created a vision for how he would rescue her from whatever hell she was in. He was embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t even considered it. How utterly ridiculous, he thought.

  “You do have a plan, don’t you?” Hvass asked.

  “Willy?” Wallenburg said. “Are you alright?”

  The gilded door to the reception room opened, and a uniformed soldier appeared holding a silver tray with a folded piece of paper on it. “Please excuse the interruption, but I have a message for Mr. Hitler.”

  Hvass nodded. The soldier walked briskly toward Willy and extended the tray. Willy took the note and read it, then folded it and placed it in his pocket. The soldier waited patiently. “Will there be any response, sir?” he asked.

  Willy’s mind raced, and his heart beat wildly. “Yes. Please tell the Führer that I’ll be in Berlin on the next available train.”

  46

  Weeks had passed since the first Brundibár rehearsal, and the show was coming together. Addi had become the de facto leader of the children, herding them when their attention strayed and keeping their spirits up by leading them in games during downtime. Hans Krása attended each rehearsal and remained true to his word that Ursula could coach the cast. Originally fearful that she would miss being on stage herself, Ursula found that she enjoyed the effort it took to draw strong vocal performances from the children. The more time she spent with them, the more satisfaction she gained. She had cultivated a sense of trust and love that was returned to her through laughter and hugs at the end of each rehearsal.

  Of course, it didn’t hurt that their meals had improved dramatically in the last few months. The children came to rehearsals with full bellies, the boys often competing in belching contests that left them doubled over in laughter. Like its inhabitants, the ghetto had transformed as well. Addi had spoken with Edvard Svoboda, who verified that the beautification was real and would be long-lasting.

  “Is that all he said?” Ursula asked.

  “Did he say why the ghetto is being made into a real town?” Ilse had pushed.

  “And why now?” Ursula added.

  Addi shook her head. “He wouldn’t tell me. I think he knows the reason, but he won’t tell.”

  Street signs had been erected, followed by shops stocked with merchandise. As Ursula and Ilse had feared, some items had been obtained from the prisoners. But after the initial stock was arranged, weekly shipments started arriving that contained items such as perfume, books, and linens. The trains that had brought only despair and fear now became harbingers of hope and new beginnings.

  Additionally, movement restrictions had been relaxed. People could now wander about the complex without a curfew. Children, when not in the newly furnished school, played tag among the gardens or rode swings on the new playground. Buildings had been painted and proper bunks had been erected in the barracks. Each prisoner had been allotted new clothes. Warm bathing water became the norm rather than the exception. The general mood in the camp became jovial as conditions improved. Although the SS guards still roamed with their rifles at the ready, even some of their smiles came more readily.

  For her part, Ursula remained skeptical and reminded Addi that they were still prisoners as they prepared for rehearsal. “Don’t delude yourself. We’re not free to walk through the gates. Until that day comes, we’re in shackles. They may be invisible, but they’re there. And they’re very, very real.”

  Addi rolled her eyes. “You should be more grateful, Ursula. We’re now living in a true town, and we’re staging a performance. For once you should focus on what’s good.”

  Ursula set her mouth. “The other shoe will drop, Addi. Mark my words. It’s only a matter of time. Hitler wouldn’t allow this beautification to occur without an ulterior motive.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that the Führer knows nothing of what occurs in Terezín?”

  Ursula guffawed. “Now I know you’re truly delusional! He orchestrates everything, down to the finest detail.”

  Addi crossed her arms. “Ursula, I understand that he has an extreme need to control. But honestly, think about it. According to you, Hitler’s goal is to run the entire world, so why would he concern himself with our little corner of it?”

  “Because I am in this particular corner.”

  Addi gave her a look of disdain. “Well, someone has a mighty opinion of herself.”

  Ursula shook her head. “My ego has nothing to do with it. Hitler is so insecure that if he can’t control everything, down to the smallest element, he will implode. This has nothing to do with me, per se, but it has everything to do with Hitler. He sees the world from only his perspective. He’s incapable of appreciating someone else’s point of view. I understand him and how he thinks. I wish I didn’t, but I do. Something’s coming, Addi. Something bad.”

  “If what you say is true, then I plan on enjoying myself until something bad comes. My suggestion is that you do the same thing.”

  Ursula twisted the chain of her necklace, a habit that had started as a reminder of Willy but had become a nervous tic over which she had no control. Addi watched Ursula’s quick fingers worry the chain. “What about Willy?”

  Ursula paused. “What of him?”

  Addi held her arms wide. “Where is he in all of this? You’ve been here for almost two years. Why hasn’t he come for you?”

  “He doesn’t know where I am.”

  “Anna knows. Do you think she hasn’t told him?”

  The same thought had occur
red to Ursula on many occasions, especially late at night when she couldn’t sleep. Why had he not come for her? Anna had said that he wouldn’t stop until he found her. She’d seen the conditions in which Ursula was living. Surely, she had found a way to break from her gilded cage to communicate with Willy. Yet still he didn’t come, and Ursula had no answers.

  Addi saw the distress in Ursula’s eyes and softened her tone. “Ursula, you know me. I’m an optimistic pragmatist. I’m hopeful that Anna has communicated your whereabouts, but she may not have for fear of Hitler’s wrath. On the other hand, if she did tell Willy where you are, and he hasn’t yet appeared, the question is why?”

  Ursula wiped away a tear and stared at her hands. When she spoke, it came out as a whisper. “Perhaps he has forgotten about me. Perhaps he should.”

  Addi sighed and drew Ursula in for a hug, holding her tightly until she felt Ursula’s heartbeat match her own. “I think he’s out there somewhere looking for you. Or, if he knows where you are, then he’s devising a strategy to get you out of here. And when he does—” She drew Ursula away and smiled, “—please take me with you.”

  Ursula paused and then burst out laughing. She wiped her eyes and nodded. “Deal,” she said.

  Hans Krása bounded up the stairs but stopped when he saw the two women. “Everything alright here?”

  Ursula wiped her nose with her sleeve. “We’re fine. Are the children coming?”

  “They’re on their way as we speak. You should know that they’re especially eager today and have extra energy.”

  “How come?”

  “Because each has a coin in his pocket.”

  Ursula shook her head. “You mean the useless currency we’re given for our work? The money that holds no value except in this ghetto?”

  Krása shook his head. “No, Ursula. New currency has been created that can be used inside the camp and externally as well.”

  Ursula’s heart sped up. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to feel a surge of hope that they might see beyond the fort’s walls. “Why would they give us money?”