‘I know.’ Leo and I could never be together but it didn’t stop me pining for him and wondering what our life together might have been like had we lived in another time or place.
‘Julius loves you,’ said Marika. ‘That’s all most of us ever want: to be loved.’ I was lucky to have the love of two good men. Marika was still waiting for Johann to speak those three little words.
‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should give him a chance.’
* * *
‘The Allies have hit the war industries hard,’ Julius said one bright May morning, his sandy head resting against the pillow. ‘They’re vital to Germany winning this war. We have trains scheduled to take armaments to the Eastern Front, but production is behind and some of the factories have had problems with assembly. Sabotage, I suspect.’
‘Really?’ I said, almost choking on my coffee. I’d been sending small snippets of information back to Leo, and when I’d gone home for my twentieth birthday a few weeks earlier I’d given him a full report. Some of my information had been useful in helping the resistance create disruption, mainly in the factories around Berlin. ‘How bad is it on the Eastern Front?’
‘Worse than we feared.’ He sat up and swallowed some of his coffee. I didn’t know how he could do that. It was scalding hot and I could only sip mine slowly. ‘We’re losing territory that we’ve previously gained. We’ve lost Kiev, Leningrad, Crimea, southern Italy, and we’re barely holding Estonia.’
‘Why is that?’ I asked, looking up from the newspaper. Ironically, I’d been reading an article in Das Reich explaining the difficulties in an Allied invasion on European soil, citing the slow progress of the Allied advance through southern Italy as a prime example. It was barely worth reading, mainly propaganda aimed at soothing German citizens’ fears of an imminent Allied invasion and proving Germany’s dominance in the war.
He turned to look at me and lowered his voice. ‘There’s talk that the Führer’s not listening to his generals or High Command. After Stalingrad, confidence in his decisions has been seriously undermined.’ They were treasonous words in the wrong company, but he knew how I felt about the Nazi regime and our Führer.
‘What can we do?’ The warmth of the coffee cup in my hands seeped into my fingers. Part of me was overwhelmed by the futility of the situation, but with Julius on side, a man with power and influential connections who felt as he did, maybe something could be done.
‘Some think that the Führer’s overthrow by assassination is the only solution.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a solution that amounts to suicide. He’s too heavily guarded. Nobody can get close to him. The best we can do is fight until the very end and pray to God that we win.’ My heart sank. He didn’t have the will to do anything serious about his concerns. I wondered who he’d been talking to. Whoever they were, they obviously trusted him to confide such subversive opinions.
‘Julius, do you really believe that? He has to go, and the Nazi Party with him.’ I itched to tell him about the resistance – and that he could help in so many ways – but I didn’t dare after what I’d been doing. He would take it as a personal betrayal.
‘We just have to survive this war, win or lose.’ He kissed me on the lips. ‘Now, let’s have breakfast.’
Maybe whoever he had been talking to could convince him to fight for change.
12
It was 6 June 1944 and it was finally happening – the ‘unlikely’ Allied invasion. Onkel Georg, Tante Elya and I were in the parlour at Gut Birkenhof, crowded around the radio. ‘D-Day has come,’ the BBC announcer stated. ‘Early this morning the Allies began the assault on the north-western face of Hitler’s European fortress.’
We stared at each other in astonishment then, slowly, broad grins spread across our faces as we realised the significance of this moment.
‘It’s the beginning of the end,’ said Onkel Georg, tears in his eyes.
‘I barely dared to hope,’ whispered Tante Elya, grasping our hands and kissing them both in turn.
‘The tide has turned,’ the announcer continued. ‘The free men of the world are marching together to victory.’
‘It’s really happening,’ I said, stunned. I thought of all the men and women who had worked towards this day, all the small and large acts of resistance within our own homeland.
Over the following weeks I came home to the estate whenever I could so I could huddle around the radio with my family. We followed the reports describing the beach landings in Normandy and the Allied attempts to press on inland in the face of heavy German shelling. Our emotions were in constant conflict: sadness and despair warring with joy and hope. Had the Allies been pushed back or had they made it safely from the coast of France?
Soon it was clear: the Allies were coming and Germany was now fighting a war on two fronts. The bloodshed on both sides made it hard to rejoice, but change was in the air and, with it, the promise of salvation from the Nazi regime.
This hope boosted the morale of the resistance movement.
‘I’m worried about you after what’s happened with Bernhard,’ I said to Leo one afternoon in July, as we walked back to the truck. I’d been rostered off for five days after working three weeks straight and had come home for a couple of days. Tante Elya had sent me to pick Leo up from the forester’s cottage, where he’d been having a beer with Hans.
Bernhard Bästlein had been arrested in late May and, after spending time at the Reich Security Office, where we all knew he’d been tortured, he was back in Sachsenhausen once again. By now, a handful of Russian POWs had been freed, all of them via Gut Birkenhof, and the resistance was contemplating getting Bästlein out. But he was heavily guarded and it risked exposing the entire operation if the escape failed.
‘It’s all right,’ he said, patting my shoulder. ‘I would’ve been arrested by now if he’d said anything.’ It had been a nerve-racking month, expecting the Gestapo to show up at our doors, especially as Julius’s protection wouldn’t extend this far as he had no idea about our involvement with the resistance.
‘Maybe you and your father should lie low for a while.’ The danger was beginning to feel very real and I didn’t know what I’d do if Leo or even Onkel Georg was arrested.
He shook his head. ‘No, we have to keep going. Something big’s about to happen. Franz Jacob wasn’t sure if it would work out, but it looks like it’s going ahead.’ The excitement in his voice made me shiver as the carpet of old pine needles crunched underfoot. I loved it here, tucked away in the forest far from the manor house, the estate buildings and sheds.
‘What is it?’
Even though we were alone, Leo dropped his voice. ‘A member of the Kreisau Circle has made contact. They’re a high-ranking resistance group – they want our movement to be involved in a plot to assassinate Hitler.’ I thought immediately of Julius and what he’d told me a couple of months earlier. Surely it was connected. ‘Vati and I went to a meeting in Berlin a few weeks ago,’ Leo continued. ‘We discussed ways that we can help the conspiracy.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Vati was against telling you anything. He still doesn’t know about you spying on Julius’s friends.’ He smirked. ‘But I didn’t want to put you at risk until we knew for sure that it was happening. This time, I think it has a real chance of success and there’s a final meeting in Berlin the day after tomorrow.’
I clasped Leo’s hands, grinning from ear to ear. ‘It’s happening?’
He nodded, grinning back. ‘I knew you’d want to be involved.’
‘How?’
‘I want you to know every detail of our plan in case something happens to Vati or me. The Gestapo haven’t picked up any of us in the group besides Bästlein, so I think we’re safe, but you never can tell. I want you to get word to our contacts in Berlin after the meeting with the final preparations. If we’re being watched, you’re a safer option.’
‘Of course, I’ll always have your back,’ I said, elated that he was including me. I
felt strong and powerful, proud to be involved in crucial resistance work.
* * *
The next night I stayed with Julius. I had another couple of days off before I had to return to the hospital. He was in a strange mood, unable to settle.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. He was sitting in his chair and I put my arm around his shoulders from behind. He put down the book he’d been trying to read, while staring into space. ‘Difficult day?’ I moved around to the side of his chair and sat on the edge.
He pulled me into his lap. ‘Not now you’re here to distract me.’ He kissed me.
‘Really?’ I brushed my hand over his short bristly hair, noticing that it had become increasingly grey of late.
‘Do you remember when I spoke to you about the officials who have lost confidence in the Führer?’ he asked softly.
‘Of course.’
‘There’s a plot against him, and I’ve been approached.’
‘To be involved?’
‘Yes – to be involved, or to allow it to happen and become part of the new government afterwards. General Olbricht, Colonel von Stauffenberg and members of the Army High Command are at the centre of the plot.’
‘What did you tell them?’ My heart was racing. I wanted Julius to step forward and fight for what was right.
He shook his head. ‘I can’t become involved. I’m part of the current government. As much as I object to what this regime is doing, my duty is to uphold the government. But if their plan is successful, I’ll happily join a new government, one that will broker peace and rebuild Germany.’
I drew back, furious with him. ‘You can’t be serious! You have to do it. It’s your opportunity to make a difference, to force the Nazis from power.’
‘What if it doesn’t go to plan? What if it doesn’t end well? I have you to think about – and your family.’
‘But it will. It will work. It has to.’
Julius stared at me icily and my stomach dropped. ‘Do you know something about this?’
‘How could I?’ I said, turning away.
‘Susie.’ He grasped my shoulders, pulling me back. ‘What have you been up to? I can’t keep your family safe if I don’t know where to expect the dangers.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ All I could think of was the respect that Leo had finally shown me as a woman, the pride and admiration in his eyes. I couldn’t give that up.
He gripped my arms hard. ‘Are your family involved in this?’
‘Julius, you’re hurting me.’
‘Whatever you’re doing you have to stop.’ His face was creased with worry.
‘Let go of me,’ I said, raising my voice. Immediately he let go, realising what he had done, and I stepped away, rubbing my arms and glaring at him.
‘How can I keep them safe if you won’t tell me?’ he whispered. ‘We can work out the best thing to do together.’
I stared at him, debating what to do. He was powerful and had access to information that we did not.
‘Do you promise we’ll do it together?’
‘Only if you tell me everything.’
He’d shown himself to be loyal to our family. Hadn’t he kept Elya and Leo safe? ‘My family and I are part of the resistance.’ I dropped my head, unable to look at the disbelief on his face. ‘I couldn’t tell you,’ I muttered. ‘I didn’t want to compromise you.’
‘You didn’t want to compromise me? I already am because of you. Whatever they’re doing, tell them to stop. It’s too dangerous.’
‘It’s too late.’
‘What do you mean?’
I sat opposite him on the lounge and told him haltingly about Onkel Georg and Leo’s role in the resistance, about their involvement in the plot to assassinate the Führer and the meeting in Berlin the next day.
‘I can’t tell them what to do, but I want you to stay away from the whole conspiracy,’ said Julius, rubbing a hand over his head in exasperation. ‘There are too many ways for things to go wrong, too many people involved. I don’t want you caught up in it.’
I jumped to my feet, my face flaming with anger. ‘You promised we’d work together. I have to help them. Leo and Onkel Georg are relying on me.’
He stood and grabbed me by the wrist. ‘Promise me you won’t go anywhere near that meeting or relay messages to resistance contacts.’
‘Let go!’ I shouted. ‘I’m not married to you. I can do what I like.’
‘What if they’re being watched? One of their leaders has already been arrested. What if the Gestapo are waiting for the right moment to strike?’
‘We all have to take risks for what we believe in. At least we’re taking action. You tell me you think the Nazis have to go, but they’re just words, Julius. You’re willing to put up with the way things are until somebody else does something about it. Well, I’m not!’ I pulled away from him. ‘I’m going.’
Julius’s face reddened and his hands clenched by his sides in rage. ‘You know nothing about the devastating consequences of ill-conceived actions,’ he said, barely controlling his voice, ‘but I do. Don’t make that mistake, Susie.’ He strode to the door and turned to me. ‘Stay here tonight,’ he growled. ‘It’s too late for you to drive. I’ll spend the night at the ministry. I’ve got plenty of work to do.’ He slammed the door as he left.
It took me some time to calm down, furious at his inaction, his inertia. He was becoming more and more like a politician. They played with words all the time, but how many of them stood by their words, took action to make them real? After polishing off the rest of the good bottle of red that he had been waiting to share with me, I realised in a foggy haze that maybe he was worried about me, about my family. There was a serious risk of being discovered. Perhaps I wouldn’t smash his crystal glasses against the wall or tear the pages of his books and throw them in the fire, after all. Instead, I ran a hot bath and indulged in a few moments to myself, a rare luxury, soaking away the day’s tensions until, pink-limbed, I dragged myself from the tub and fell into bed and into a deep sleep.
I woke to persistent knocking at the door early the following morning. It wouldn’t stop and, bleary-eyed, I pulled on my silk robe and stumbled to the door, wondering where Julius was. Only when I opened the door to the concierge did I remember our fight and the fact that he had stayed at work all night.
‘A message for you, Fräulein Göttmann,’ he said, handing me a note. ‘I apologise for waking you, but Herr Siebenborn told me it was urgent and that I must hand it directly to you.’
‘Thank you,’ I murmured, frowning as I closed the door. Padding barefoot across the Turkish rug, I tore open the envelope, ready to curse if it was a hastily written apology.
My darling Susie,
Please telephone your uncle and tell him that today’s not a good day to visit. Something has come up unexpectedly at work and I have no idea how this day will end. Send him my apologies.
Yours,
Julius
To anyone else his words would mean nothing, a domestic communication, but I knew Julius would have spent the night putting out his feelers about the plot. He must have heard something. It could only mean that Onkel Georg and Leo were in danger. The paper slipped from my fingers and onto the floor. Wild-eyed, I glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. I still had time.
I rushed to the telephone and dialled. The telephone was ringing. ‘Please answer,’ I whispered as I held the earpiece tightly to my ear.
‘Ida,’ I said urgently when she answered the phone. ‘It’s Susie. Is Onkel Georg there?’
‘Fräulein Susanna, your uncle’s already left for Berlin.’
‘How long ago? With Leo?’
‘Both of them left over an hour ago. Do you want to speak to Frau Hecker?’
‘No. I’ll talk to her later,’ I said, my heart thumping painfully in my chest.
I put the phone down, trying to produce a single coherent thought. In desperation I telephoned Julius, my hand shaking as I dialled the
number, thankful that Hedy put me straight through to him.
‘Susie, did you get my message?’
‘My uncle’s already left,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Anyone could be listening to our telephone call.
‘Wait for him at home. I’m coming.’
‘See you soon,’ I said, feeling a little dizzy. I hung up the phone. A mixture of relief and worry flowed through me but I couldn’t just sit and wait. I had to go and find Onkel Georg and Leo myself.
I changed hastily and scribbled a quick note to Julius to tell him what I was doing. I was in my car before I could talk myself out of it. Driving away from the Adlon, I prayed that he’d understand.
I parked the car a few blocks away from the apartment block where the meeting was to take place. I still couldn’t get used to the sight of bombed-out buildings and homes ravaged by fire, alongside those that hadn’t been touched with their neat gardens unscathed. As least the roads were repaired and in good working order. Wearing a wide-brimmed hat, I strolled through the neighbourhood with a book in my hand. I looked like anyone out enjoying the summer weather, ready to relax on a sunny park bench or under the shade of a tree. Meanwhile, my eyes darted to and fro, looking for anything or anyone familiar, a car or the faces of Onkel Georg and Leo, but I found nothing. Frustrated, I circled back and walked past the apartment block again, seeing nothing untoward. I frowned in worry as I walked causally across the street and sat in a small park further down the block. I could see the entrance of the apartment block from here. I glanced at my watch. It was twenty minutes until the meeting. Maybe it had been cancelled. But what if the meeting had been moved to another location and I didn’t get to them in time?
There was nothing I could do but wait. All my senses were on high alert, but all I heard was the sound of children playing in a yard nearby, laughter punctuating the babbling of childish voices, and the faint, incessant barking of a dog in the distance. Somebody was cooking and my nose wrinkled as I caught the waft of cabbage soup. Perspiration trickled down my back as the sun beat down relentlessly, not even a breath of wind to stir the damp hair at my neck. There was nobody in the park but me and, as I scanned the street and the building opposite, still nothing seemed out of place. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
Letters from Berlin Page 17