‘How did she receive these burns?’ I gently asked the young woman crouched by her side, holding her hand.
‘She ran onto the road in a panic after the air raid.’ Her eyes were huge and filled with terror as she relived the moment. ‘There was fire all around us. She started screaming and she couldn’t move. The tar on the road had melted and was burning her. She was stuck.’ She blinked away the tears in her eyes. ‘Soldiers came and rescued her, but she didn’t stop screaming, even when she was carried here on a stretcher.’ I glanced at Marika, the worry on her face matching the concern I felt.
‘We’ll look after her now,’ said Marika. ‘Get something warm to eat and drink. The food van is set up in the middle of the park.’ She helped the young woman, who was clearly exhausted and traumatised, to her feet and pointed the way. ‘Then go home if it’s still standing or go to the shelter and rest until accommodation can be arranged for you.’ The woman nodded, but gazed at her friend, reluctant to leave her.
‘She’ll be in good hands,’ I said, cutting the woman’s skirt free from the hardened tar on her legs. ‘We’ll treat the worst of her burns here and get her to the hospital as soon as we can. You can visit her there.’ She turned, trying to hide the relief she was obviously feeling, and stumbled away.
Hours later, we had attended to all the serious cases and there were only minor injuries requiring attention. I noticed Marika gazing over at Doctor Stahl who often worked on our ward. I hadn’t missed the long glances each had given the other over the last weeks. I wondered who would pluck up the courage to talk first.
‘Can you finish up with Doctor Stahl?’ I asked, smiling cheekily at her.
‘Why, where are you going?’ The usually poised Marika had turned a shade of beetroot red.
‘To find Julius,’ I said. ‘If he dies, so does my family’s protection.’
A look of repulsion flashed across her face at the mention of his name. ‘So you’ve forgiven him then?’
I shook my head. ‘But my family comes first.’ I was weary and ached all over, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew whether he was okay.
‘Go. I’ll make sure we wait for you,’ she said, stretching her back after hours of standing and bending. ‘There’s not much more to do here now.’
I squeezed her hand. ‘What would I do without you? I’ll be as quick as I can.’
Picking my way through the rubble and around smouldering ruins, it took me some time to reach the Hotel Kaiserhof. We’d been told about multi-storey buildings collapsing, trapping those who had taken refuge in the shelters beneath. Many had died and those who had been pulled free from their tombs suffered terrible injuries. I didn’t know what I would do if I found Julius dead or dying.
But nothing prepared me for the visceral shock that hit me when I laid eyes on his damaged hotel. It was like a punch to the gut. Walls had crumbled and collapsed, part of the roof had caved in and debris was scattered across the street. The sign above the grand entry remained, but the life of the imperial darling was gone: the building gutted, blackened and empty, sections of the outside façade standing precariously on their own. I doubted that anyone who had remained inside would have survived.
Panic began to churn inside me. Julius had proven how valuable his protection had been for my family. I didn’t know what I would do if he’d been killed in the air raid. I glanced up the street in despair and noticed that the Reich Chancellery had been barely touched. Why couldn’t those bombs have hit there instead and killed the Führer?
A man I recognised approached me. ‘Fräulein Göttmann?’
I nodded, feeling dazed.
He drew me away from the street. ‘I’m Herr Eckert, on Ministerialrat Siebenborn’s staff –’
‘Is he safe?’ I interrupted.
The man looked exhausted and was covered in a film of grime. ‘He’s alive.’
My shoulders slumped with relief.
‘I can show you the way to his secretary’s apartment.’
‘Hedy?’
He nodded. ‘Julius was injured and had nowhere else to go.’ He gestured to the building behind us. ‘His suite’s gone.’
‘Of course.’ My mouth was dry.
‘I’ll take you to him. The zoo’s been hit and it’s dangerous. Animals have escaped their enclosures and may be prowling the streets.’
I nodded. It was bizarre to think lions or crocodiles could be around the next corner but I followed Herr Eckert closely.
‘He’s been asking for you,’ Hedy said as we walked down the hallway of her apartment.
‘What happened?’
‘He was hit on the head by falling debris,’ she whispered. ‘After we left the air-raid shelter, he noticed a building begin to collapse and shouted for us to get out of the way. One of the men with us seemed dazed and didn’t respond. Julius ran to him, pulling him to safety just as the wall fell, but he was hit in the process. Who knows what might have happened if he hadn’t been there?’
Julius was sleeping, his face almost as pale as the bandage around his head and the crisp, white sheets of the bed. My heart clenched, taking me by surprise. He seemed so helpless and vulnerable lying there.
‘How is he?’
‘He’ll be fine. According to the doctor, it’s a nasty laceration and bump, but he doesn’t think his skull is fractured.’
‘Thank you for taking him in.’
Hedy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Of course. He can stay here until he’s well enough if he likes, but knowing him, as soon as he’s on his feet, he’ll move to his new suite.’
‘New suite?’
She nodded. ‘He had me arrange one at the Adlon.’
‘Susie!’ Julius sounded groggy. His eyes were open although a little glazed. He smiled weakly and then winced as he tried to lift his head off the pillow.
‘Don’t do that,’ I said, placing my hand gently on his shoulder, as Hedy left the room. ‘You’ve had a bad knock to the head.’
He touched the bandage gingerly. ‘Susie, I’m glad you’re here. I want to talk to you about the night of the gala.’
I tried to remain aloof and cool as I sat in the chair by the bed, but in truth, now that I knew he was safe and well enough, a hot rush of resentment and anger gushed through me.
‘I know you’ve been angry with me,’ he said quickly, watching my face. ‘I never planned for it to end that way…’
‘How can I believe a thing you say?’ I said, fixing him with a glare. My hands were shaking with fury and I clasped them tightly in my lap. ‘You took advantage of me.’ Hot tears slid down my cheeks in spite of my resolve not to show him any emotion. ‘I wanted to wait for the right time,’ I whispered miserably, dropping my head into my hands.
‘I thought it was what you wanted too.’
Rage reared up inside me and I wanted to slap his face, but I had to acknowledge that I had been attracted to him and to his power.
He was sitting now and, despite being the colour of puce, he remained upright. He reached for me and pulled me to him, holding me tight. I didn’t resist. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve shared things with you that I’ve never told another human being. I can be myself with you, not all those things I am to the world, just myself. I’ve enjoyed every minute of our courtship – each time I couldn’t wait to see you and talk to you again. You’ve ruined my playboy reputation but I don’t care. It’s you I want to be with. If I lose you because of this…’ he whispered into my ear.
‘You say you’re sorry,’ I said, struggling to find the right words. ‘But I want to know that you’ll respect me.’ The thought of losing him had made me realise how much I needed him. I had to find a way to make our relationship work for the sake of my family.
‘Of course I respect you. I’ll prove it to you every day we’re together, I promise. Just say you’ll stay.’
I drew away. The anguish in his eyes told me that his apology was real.
What choice did I have? ‘I’ll stay,’ I sa
id quietly.
* * *
The bombings continued relentlessly into December. Berlin became a city of strange contradictions, with early snow lightly covering the charred remains and rubble in one part while other parts of the city were burning. And each morning the ruined roads were slick with ice and even more treacherous to citizens who already had enough to deal with.
Julius insisted he was fine and didn’t require nursing. He had new rooms at the Adlon Hotel where he conducted his work until he could manage going into the ministry without dizziness and headaches crippling him. Much to my relief, with the extra workload we both carried because of the bombings, we barely had time to see each other. Then the Berlin railway system was hit in mid-December and Julius worked night and day to put the Reich’s most important transportation network back on its feet.
Although Beelitz was south-west of the city and hadn’t been hit, we spent night after night in the hospital bunkers as the sirens sounded and planes droned overhead. Our soft murmurs were punctuated by the groans of patients upset by the quick evacuation of the wards until careful repositioning by the nurses or extra medication soothed their pain away. I noticed Marika and Johann Stahl often sitting side by side, talking in low voices to each other. It wouldn’t be long until romance blossomed between them, I was sure.
Tante Elya pleaded with me to come home and Julius agreed I should go, as much for my own safety as to reassure Tante Elya. I was allotted a week off after the relentless nights and almost daily emergency triage expeditions to the bombed-out areas of the city. Exhausted, I joined the exodus out of Berlin.
As it turned out, the bombings had a silver lining. Many of Onkel Georg’s acquaintances sought refuge in the countryside and decided to lease cottages in the most beautiful parts of the estate over the winter. Some even bought plots with the intention of building more permanent homes when the weather allowed.
‘How much more can the city stand?’ Tante Elya asked the evening I arrived, her embroidery needle suspended above a piece of fabric stretched tight over a circular frame. The continual bombings had caused the electricity to be intermittently disrupted and I didn’t know how she continued to do her fine needlework in the light of only a few candles scattered between the lounge chairs. But the dim lighting and the heavy blackout curtains, which kept much of the heat inside the room, made the room cosy, the perfect environment for the sharing and keeping of secrets. Onkel Georg sat with us, smoking his pipe while we waited for the BBC news broadcast and it was my first chance to tell them about the damage and carnage I’d witnessed.
We had been listening to the magnificent tenor voice of Ivan Kozlovsky, Tante Elya’s favourite opera singer. He was Russian and Tante Elya was playing his Ukrainian folk songs tonight – stirring and emotional, they were close to her heart, songs of her childhood. She had sung them to me and Leo often at bedtime when we were children. Leo even learnt how to play some of them on the balalaika. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.
‘The city will survive,’ said Onkel Georg confidently. ‘Berlin’s spread out with wide avenues, parkland and forests. It won’t burn like Hamburg did.’
I hoped he was right. ‘There are teams working around the clock to clean up the streets and repair roads and the railways,’ I explained. ‘It’ll take time to restore electricity and water everywhere, but people seem cheerful enough and are managing with what they have.’ I settled back into the lounge with my fresh cup of chamomile tea. I was so looking forward to a full night’s sleep in my own bed. And in the morning I needed to talk to Leo about how I could help more with the resistance.
‘What about those who have lost their homes?’ asked Tante Elya, her brow creased with concern.
‘They’re being accommodated around the city or out in the country.’
‘It seems that life goes on,’ said Onkel Georg, puffing on his pipe. ‘Now, let’s see what the English have to report tonight.’ He turned on the radio and twisted the knob until a British voice crackled into the room.
‘Turn it down, Georg,’ whispered Tante Elya, glancing at the closed door and the heavy curtains drawn across the windows. The penalty for listening to foreign radio was imprisonment – and for someone like Tante Elya, it would mean instant deportation to a labour camp.
‘Nobody’s here, and we still have the record playing,’ said Onkel Georg, turning down the volume anyway. We crowded around, listening to the news while I translated the clipped English tones into German. Leo and Onkel Georg knew some English and could convey the meaning to Tante Elya when I wasn’t home, but I was glad of my language studies at university which ensured we understood almost everything.
‘So the Allies have finally decided to work together against the Nazi threat,’ said Onkel Georg after the report, turning the radio back to the nationally run station. Britain, the United States and the Soviets had met for the first time in Tehran a few weeks earlier, announcing their determination to work together to win the war and establish peace.
‘The Nazis tell us that they’re still winning this war, but it sounds as if the Allies will defeat them,’ said Tante Elya, her eyes wide with optimism.
Onkel Georg squeezed Tante Elya’s hand. ‘I’m sure it won’t be long before they begin an offensive on European soil.’
‘The sooner, the better. Tedi and all the others in the ghettos and camps need them to hurry before it’s too late.’ She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. After the liberation of Kiev in November, few Jewish people had been found alive. We’d heard from the resistance that some American journalists had been invited by the Soviets to report on the Jewish massacres at Babi Yar and the dismantling of the Syrets concentration camp by the SS. Tante Elya had cried for days, mourning the loss of her city and community.
‘The killing has to stop,’ I said grimly. ‘The men on the battlefield, civilians in the bombings and the Jewish people in the extermination camps.’ How many more would perish before it was all over?
Later that night, on my way to the kitchen in the darkened hallway, I nearly screamed with fright as I ran straight into Leo.
‘I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow,’ I said, breathing heavily. My heart was pounding wildly, not just from the scare, but from the sheer closeness of him and the need to touch his skin. I wanted only him. But I’d made my choice; the only choice I could make.
‘I wasn’t, but I’m back now.’ He stared back at me with the same longing, tinged with sadness and regret. I hadn’t seen him since he’d found out about my engagement. He would beat Julius to a pulp if he knew what had happened at the gala.
‘Did it all go well?’ He’d been to see Franz Jacob and Anton Saefkow, the leaders of the underground resistance in Berlin.
‘It did. Our Russian made it back to Moscow and we’ve made plans for the next escape.’
His stomach grumbled loudly.
‘Are you hungry?’ I said.
‘Starving!’
‘Come down to the kitchen. I’m sure there’s some leftover dinner.’ I glanced across to the open parlour door. ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about.’ I saw the frown form across his brow. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t want to fight with you.’ Before he could say anything, I grabbed his arm and led him down the stairs to the kitchen.
I put fried potatoes, a bowl of sauerkraut, slices of bread and cheese on the kitchen table in front of him while he watched me warily in silence.
‘I want to do more for the resistance,’ I said, sitting opposite him.
‘Helping Mutti with the Russians is enough.’ He stabbed some potato with his fork and crammed it into his mouth. I wondered when he’d last eaten.
‘I can do more.’
‘Have you told Julius?’ He kept his eyes on his meal, displaying little emotion.
‘No. I want to do this myself. I know you don’t approve of our engagement, but can we please put our differences behind us? I’m perfectly placed to help.’ I could see the tension in the line of his jaw, the
way he clenched his teeth. I knew how hard it was for him to accept.
He closed his eyes briefly as though in pain and then nodded slowly. ‘What were you thinking?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Julius introduced me to some senior Nazis at a government gala. I can tell you and the resistance any pieces of information that I pick up from his colleagues.’
‘You would do that. Use Julius?’ His look of incredulity shocked me.
Rage blazed through me, fierce and hot. ‘You have no idea what choices I’ve made,’ I said, banging the table. ‘If I have to spend time with Nazi swine, pretending to enjoy their company, I may as well have the satisfaction of working against them. How else will I be able to bear their arrogance, their smug smiles and self-righteousness?’
He just stared at me, the food forgotten, taken aback by my vehemence.
I had to make sure he understood that I could do this. I was going to get what I wanted from my relationship with Julius, just as Julius was getting what he wanted. That night’s BBC broadcast had fuelled my hope that the Nazis could be defeated. ‘This is wartime, Leo. Everybody has a reason for doing what they do. Even one small thing could add to the jigsaw of understanding about what the Nazis are doing and help bring them down.’
A look of dawning comprehension slid across his face. ‘You really want to do this, Nightingale?’
‘I already am,’ I said, lifting my chin in defiance. ‘Just tell me what I should be listening out for.’
Leo nodded. ‘We have a lot to talk about then.’
11
Julius and I attended the opera at the Unter den Linden in January 1944, about a month after my conversation with Leo. Julius hadn’t been able to join us for Christmas at Gut Birkenhof because of work, and the opera was our first public outing since the announcement of our engagement at the gala. He was attentive, his hand on my back as he guided me through the crowded foyer, but the thought of spying for the resistance gave me a thrill. I was nervous and excited.
Letters from Berlin Page 15