Letters from Berlin

by Tania Blanchard

  ‘We can’t lose him,’ I said resolutely.

  ‘Then let’s get to work,’ said Onkel Georg, determination blazing in his eyes.

  * * *

  Only days later, Tante Elya stood before us in the freezing pre-dawn, wishing us success and refusing to let the tears that welled in her eyes fall.

  ‘Bring my son back to me,’ she said in farewell.

  Hans had arranged for us to pick up the modified truck from the resistance in Weimar, about three hours south-west, and not far from Ohrdruf.

  ‘Susie, I’m so very proud of you,’ said Onkel Georg in the growing dawn, which revealed a pewter-coloured sky, heavy with snow. ‘We always wanted a daughter, and when you came along, you were a blessing in our lives. I should never have pushed you towards Julius, but I thought I was doing the right thing to protect you.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re a strong woman, like your own mother, like Elya. I’m so sorry for what happened.’

  I touched his hand on the wheel. ‘I’m stronger for it, Onkel. It’s something none of us could have foreseen.’

  ‘All I want is to see you and Leopold reunited, to marry and have a family of your own.’

  ‘And I’d love nothing more than to see your grandchildren on your knee and watch them with you on the estate,’ I said softly. ‘They’ll adore you just as I do.’ I didn’t miss the misty-eyed joy on his face at the thought.

  He reached for my hand and squeezed. There was no need for any more words.

  The trip to Ohrdruf was the longest of my life. After picking up the truck and changing clothes, I moved into the driver’s seat and we slipped easily into the line of trucks on the outskirts of Ohrdruf, bound for the work site. We were dressed the same as the other truck drivers, complete with fake passes that the resistance had thankfully been able to supply in time. I was playing the part of a young female apprentice, a normal sight in Germany now that all the men were away at war. There had to be two of us to delay or distract the guards if Leo and Isaac were late to the meeting point or if something went wrong.

  My heart thumping, I tried to look nonchalant, bored even, as we entered the gates of the camp, two high fences rimmed with barbed wire between the outside world and the work site. I willed myself to remain calm, focused, detached from my emotions. SS guards could smell fear and even the slightest hint of nervousness could betray us. I’d memorised all the details of the plan until I could recite them in my sleep and I couldn’t think of anything except the job in front of us. All the time I’d spent with Julius – the lying and pretending for a greater cause – had surely prepared me for this moment.

  I followed the road through the construction site and between the hills on both sides. I’d had enough practice driving the trucks and tractors on the estate so I felt relatively confident in my driving skills, but I was still anxious. The snow-covered ground on either side of the road was flattened and barren and the site sat like a ragged scar on the surrounding landscape. The hills loomed above, but where once they were all heavily wooded, now the forest stopped at the crest of the highest hills. The side closest to the road was desolate and brown, naked limestone cliffs evidence of the butchering of the landscape.

  Guards roamed the site while others were stationed outside the tunnels or wherever there was construction activity. I saw only a few work crews, pitiful-looking men dressed in little more than rags, thin and haggard, hacking away at the rock with picks, shovelling dirt into small trucks, and carrying large, heavy boulders of stone and baskets of rubble away from the work site. They were bow-backed and staggering. I searched desperately for Leo’s face, but didn’t find him. It occurred to me then that the majority of the workers would be inside the tunnels, digging the mountain by hand, spending all day underground, in the dirt, dust and stale air. It took all of my willpower not to cry for these broken-down men, all of my willpower not to imagine Leo among them.

  We had to wait in line as the loader filled each truck with debris, rock and dirt.

  ‘How long will this take?’ I whispered, staring at the truck in front of us as we rolled forward.

  ‘About half an hour to fill each truck. There are two still in front of us,’ said Onkel Georg calmly.

  ‘Leo and Isaac know what to do, when to come?’

  He nodded. ‘As long as all goes to plan with our diversion, they’ll slip under the truck while it’s being loaded. Until then we just wait.’

  The minutes seemed to last for hours.

  ‘This really is hell on earth,’ I whispered. ‘How can any humans have such disregard for life?”

  ‘It’s human nature, the very worst of it.’

  ‘We’re no better than animals,’ I said bitterly.

  ‘We’re worse than animals,’ said Onkel Georg fiercely. ‘Animals don’t turn on their own like this, animals don’t foul their own nests. I don’t know how God can look upon us as his creation. I don’t know how there can be a God who allows these atrocities to occur.’

  I reached across and put my hand on his arm. It was all I could do with unfriendly eyes upon us.

  Finally the truck in front of us lurched forward and my breath caught in my throat. It was our turn to be loaded.

  ‘Not a word,’ said Onkel Georg, as we inched forward. ‘Let me do the talking.’

  I nodded, swallowing hard. He reached across me to show our passes to the guard on duty, who peered through the window at me.

  ‘What’s the world come to when they let women learn how to drive trucks?’ scoffed the guard.

  ‘I agree. Women don’t belong in construction, but with all the men at war,’ Onkel Georg said, shrugging. ‘This one’s not bad, but she still has a lot to learn.’

  ‘Better you than me, I say.’ He handed back the passes to Onkel Georg before gesturing to the loader to begin filling the truck.

  Suddenly there was a shout as the truck in front began losing its load from its open tailgate. Rubble poured onto the road and the truck stopped as SS guards shouted and gestured to the driver. Along with the loader operator, they rushed to the back of the truck to see what had happened, arguing about whose fault it was.

  Onkel Georg kept his gaze forward. ‘Keep your eyes open now.’

  ‘Where is he?’ I murmured. I couldn’t see Leo lurking in the shadows anywhere. ‘Have you seen him?’

  ‘No. Perhaps he’s well hidden. We have help on the inside, remember, and they managed the tailgate accident perfectly. They’ll make sure he gets to us.’

  ‘God, I hope so,’ I breathed as the guards cleared and the truck in front of us pitched forward once more.

  It was our turn now. While our truck was filled, we scanned the yard for anything out of place, hoping Leo and Isaac had already both made it underneath the truck.

  ‘Get ready,’ Georg whispered as the loader turned away to manoeuvre the remaining debris into a pile easy to load onto the remaining trucks. I nodded, fear knotting my stomach. It was time. Together we opened the doors of the cabin and jumped down to the ground. I tried to ignore the tightness in my chest.

  ‘What are you doing?’ barked the guard.

  ‘She doesn’t have the skill to drive this fully loaded,’ said Onkel Georg genially, walking around to us from behind the truck. ‘I’ll have to drive this back. We don’t want any accidents on the road.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ said the guard hastily.

  ‘Some are easier to train than others,’ said Onkel Georg, capturing the guard’s attention as I made my way around to the back of the truck. Everything moved in slow motion. The truck behind was still occupied with the guard checking their documents and the loader driver was still piling dirt. I ran my fingers lightly underneath, holding my breath. A single touch was all I needed, but I felt nothing, only the cold steel of the compartment.

  We were out of time. My heart dropped and I wanted to scream and charge the guards, but there was Onkel Georg to think about and all those who had risked their lives in this attempt. We’d failed. I steeled myself to
walk back to the cabin of the truck knowing we had to leave Isaac and Leo behind to an uncertain fate. I took a breath and arranged my face into a mask of blank indifference.

  Then I felt it. Frozen fingers wrapped around mine for just a second, but it was enough. I didn’t know whether they were both there, but I walked around the side of the truck without missing a beat and climbed back into the cab.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said, looking at Georg, who raised his eyebrows. I nodded quickly, and he started the engine.

  The trip out of the camp was even more tense than the one in. I worried that at any moment we’d be stopped and our extra cargo discovered. My knuckles were white, my fingers digging into the seat.

  ‘Breathe,’ said Onkel Georg.

  ‘Can’t you go any faster?’ I murmured.

  ‘Not unless we want to be noticed.’

  Finally we reached the gates, where we were stopped. I was sure my heart was about to stop as well. Freedom lay just beyond our reach.

  ‘It’s protocol,’ said Onkel Georg. ‘Nothing to worry about.’ But I could see the tension around his mouth. He passed our papers to the guard through the window.

  Other SS guards inspected the truck, walking slowly around the tray. Any moment the game could be up. I stared steadfastly ahead, willing the beads of sweat that were beginning to form all over me not to betray me. Please let us pass, I prayed, repeating it over and over again inside my head.

  Finally the guard handed our papers back. ‘You can go,’ he said abruptly.

  As the gates opened to let us through, the truck lurched forward and then we were free.

  20

  It was only when we got to the resistance safe house in Weimar that we would know whether we’d managed to get both Leo and Isaac out. As soon as Onkel Georg parked the truck, I jumped down from the cab and rushed to the rear. A pair of blue eyes stared back at me from the hidden compartment and my heart sank. I held out my hand to help Isaac down before he was mobbed by resistance members congratulating him on his escape. I peered into the gloom of the compartment, unable to breathe, and suddenly an arm shot forward. Stifling a sob, I pulled Leo from his hiding place and, finally, he was in my arms.

  But there was no time for tearful reunions. Onkel Georg, although reluctant to leave Leo and me, went home in his own car while I took a car from the resistance and drove to Berlin, with Leo and Isaac hidden in the back. Their best chance of avoiding detection and capture was hiding in plain sight, disguised as Upper Silesian refugees fleeing before the Red Army and arriving in Berlin, like thousands of others. The resistance had organised refuge for Leo in a safe house in Prenzlauer Berg in the north of the city, and in south-east Treptow for Isaac.

  Leo and I were unable to speak until he’d been shown his bed down in the basement.

  ‘You made it,’ I said once we’d been left alone. It was hard to look at him. He was so thin, with sunken cheeks and exhaustion in his eyes. It made me want to cry for him, but I knew he wouldn’t want that. Leo stared at me, tears sparkling in his eyes. He reached out and held my hand, beginning to tremble before he pulled me towards him and held me tight. I hugged him, savouring the moment. There was nothing of him except muscle and bone, but it was still Leo.

  ‘I was worried we wouldn’t get you out,’ I whispered.

  ‘I’m here now,’ he said, his voice cracking.

  ‘Don’t you ever leave me again.’

  ‘Thoughts of you and our last days together kept me going, especially while waiting for the truck. I wanted to see you again more than anything.’

  I nodded, wiping my eyes and nose with the sleeve of my coat. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Stay with me tonight Nightingale. I don’t want to be alone.’ He kissed me softly on the lips. ‘I don’t think I can manage much just now, but I want to feel you next to me, know you’re there and wake up to your face in the morning… to remind me I’m alive, that I’m with you, and that I have a future once again.’

  ‘Of course I’ll stay.’ I took his hand and led him to the camp bed where we held each other fully clothed under the thin blankets, reacquainting ourselves with the feel of each other with only the comforting sound of our breath, until Leo fell into an exhausted sleep. It wasn’t long before my own lids felt heavy and I slipped into a deep and dreamless slumber.

  * * *

  Leo was safe enough in the city, but it was too dangerous for me to see him. He was so close, but still so far. I went to see him once and had to go to elaborate lengths to keep his location secure, doubling back, changing trains, and going out of my way to get to the house in Prenzlauer Berg. Once there, my stomach lurched, hoping that Leo hadn’t been discovered, that I hadn’t led those that hunted him to his doorstep.

  The SS had already visited Gut Birkenhof with the news of Leo’s escape, questioning Onkel Georg and Tante Elya. They’d threatened her with deportation straight to Auschwitz and him with imprisonment, even with taking the estate, but had abruptly left again, presumably satisfied that they knew nothing of Leo’s disappearance because they never returned. The SS had asked about me but Georg and Elya explained that I was living in the Zoo Tower and working at the military hospital and couldn’t possibly know about his escape, let alone where he was. Nobody came to see me. It seemed that with the Allies closing in on Berlin there were more important things for the SS to concentrate on, like scrambling to finish underground headquarters for the Nazi elite and pushing production of the rumoured miracle weapons that were going to win the war. Not to mention the mass executions. One escaped mischlinge from a work camp made no difference to them, but I didn’t think for a moment that we were out of danger.

  Relief washed over me as I stepped safely and without incident into the basement and Leo took me in his arms.

  ‘How have you been?’ I asked, kissing him lightly on the lips.

  ‘A little cooped up, but fine.’ He smiled wryly. He was an outdoors man, especially after all those years working the estate.

  I placed the dish of fortified stew I’d saved from the hospital on the table. ‘Are you feeling better?’

  ‘Much stronger now that I’m not digging holes in rock all day long.’ He took my hand. ‘Eat with me.’

  ‘I already ate at the hospital. This is for you.’ He nodded and sat at the tiny table while I sank onto the camp bed.

  I watched him eat, slowly as though savouring every morsel. ‘My stomach still can’t take very much,’ he said apologetically. ‘I tried to eat more the other day, but I vomited it up. It was too much too soon, and so rich.’

  ‘I should have brought you something lighter.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, this is perfect, full of the nutrition that I need. At the camp, we only got a little bread and watery soup with a few pieces of some kind of root vegetable floating in it. Not enough to sustain a working man. I just have to eat slowly. I’ll keep some of it for dinner. Next time you come I’ll be able to eat more.’

  ‘How did you survive, Leo?’ I whispered.

  ‘I was lucky – many didn’t… because their bodies couldn’t keep them going any longer. Those who could were constantly exhausted. Accidents were commonplace and beatings happened every day because we weren’t fast enough, strong enough or efficient enough.’ He stared into the distance, his eyes hooded with the difficult memories.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Leo.’ I could only imagine what he’d been through, although after driving through that construction site, I had a good idea.

  He looked better than when he’d arrived. His dark hair was shiny and growing thicker and wavy once again and his cheeks had filled out. He was still thin, but not skeletal, and the hollow look in his eyes had all but disappeared except when he was remembering the camp.

  ‘I feel so helpless. I don’t know what to do.’

  He left the table and sat beside me on the bed. ‘You’re already doing everything. I would’ve died if you hadn’t rescued me, at terrible risk to yourself. How can I ever thank you?’

  ‘Y
ou’d do the same for me. All I want is you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too, but I have nothing to offer you as a husband. I’m a fugitive now, and a man without property or means. I don’t want to tie you down to a man with nothing.’

  I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his bony chest. ‘I don’t care, Leo. I just want to share my life with you. I still have my inheritance, and in a couple of months when I’m twenty-one I’ll have the estate and the money my parents left me. But, no matter what, we’ll manage. We deserve some happiness.’ I looked up into his face, alight with joy.

  He bent his head to kiss me, with the passion of the old days behind it. ‘Well, that’s settled then.’ I couldn’t keep my eyes from his beloved face. He was beautiful to me in every way possible. ‘It’s not the way I imagined doing this, but I don’t want to waste another minute.’ His hands cupped my cheeks and all I saw was the love in his expressive brown eyes. Then I understood, and was overjoyed. ‘I love you, Nightingale, with all my heart. Will you marry me?’

  * * *

  It was the end of February when the Allied bombs hit the south-east of the city, leaving thousands homeless. Marika and I had just finished the night shift.

  ‘Kreuzberg’s been hit,’ I said, clutching her arm in alarm. ‘Where’s Johann?’

  Everyone was on edge after the bombing of Dresden a couple of weeks earlier where the horrific firestorms had devastated the beautiful medieval city. The civilian casualty rate was astronomical and had come as a terrible shock to all of us, with medical staff from Berlin rushed to what had to be the worst disaster of the war for Germany.

  ‘Home.’ Her face paled. ‘I need to go check. He would’ve gone to the public bunker but I want to make sure he’s safe and that the house is still standing.’ I knew Leo would be unscathed, north of the city.

  I grasped her hands tightly. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  We joined the emergency medical vans as they made their way tortuously through the city, back-tracking and ducking down side streets to avoid the worst of the damage to buildings, tram tracks and roads. Bombings were almost a daily occurrence by now and most civilians had made it to the air-raid shelters across the city, but it didn’t stop either of us from worrying. And as we got closer to Kreuzberg, the destruction was worse than we’d realised. Houses were flattened, others burning. I held Marika’s hand tight as we stared out the window, horrified.