Letters from Berlin

by Tania Blanchard

  When we were close enough to Marika’s street, we leapt from the van and made our way on foot, climbing over debris and around burning homes. We stopped at the end of the road, a scene of devastation before us. Most of the houses had been hit, their roofs caved in, walls and floors collapsed. It was eerie, a thick layer of dust and dirt covering the street. Bricks, concrete, stone and twisted metal and smouldering timber were scattered across the road and the front yards of suburban blocks. Emergency crews were already on the scene, directing stunned residents away from the area.

  Marika’s house was a pile of rubble. We stared in disbelief at the ruins. There was very little to salvage.

  ‘You’ll be able to rebuild,’ I whispered trying to console her. ‘They’re only things.’

  ‘I have to find Johann and tell him,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘I have to know he made it safely to the bunker.’

  ‘I’m sure he did,’ I said, gently putting my arm around her. ‘But let’s see if we can find him. Maybe he’s already gone up to the hospital to tell you about the house.’

  We turned to leave when we were stopped by a shout. ‘In here,’ yelled a man’s voice. A group of emergency workers rushed towards Marika’s house. ‘There’s somebody still in there.’

  Marika’s face paled, her eyes wide with horror. ‘Johann? It can’t be.’

  We ran towards the house, following the men to the back, climbing carefully past exposed wires and broken pipes. I suspected that the electricity was down, but I couldn’t be sure. Four emergency workers were removing rubble from the collapsed wall and roof.

  ‘Down here,’ shouted one of the men. The other men hurried over, and Marika swayed on her feet.

  The men began to move the rubble from what had been Marika and Johann’s bedroom. ‘When he’s deep asleep he doesn’t hear anything,’ she said, her voice catching. ‘He worked back to back shifts all week. He was exhausted.’

  ‘He’s alive, but he’s trapped,’ said one of the men. ‘We have to get him out.’

  Marika let out a sob of relief and grasped my hand, her eyes wild as she stared intently at the rescue.

  ‘Is he hurt?’ I asked. ‘We’re nurses, and this is his wife,’ I said, gesturing to Marika.

  ‘He’s talking, so that’s a good sign,’ the man said. Marika nodded, unable to speak, and I squeezed her hand in encouragement. Johann has to be all right. He and Marika are meant to be together – just like Leo and I.

  ‘Careful,’ growled one of the others, gesturing to us to move away. ‘It’s unstable and the whole lot could go.’

  Each obstacle to Johann was painstakingly removed by the men. Marika stood rooted to the spot and rigid as stone. It was only when we heard the sound of his muffled voice, directing the men to his position underneath the rubble, that she came out of her trance.

  ‘That’s him, that’s Johann!’ she said, clutching my arm, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘Thank God,’ I murmured, surprised to find I was crying too.

  Finally a dusty, scratched and bleeding arm appeared from between the bricks and concrete and the breath caught in my throat. The men lifted the last piece of concrete, allowing Johann to shuffle forward on his stomach. Marika rushed to him, grasping one hand while someone held the other and they pulled him free of the debris. The concrete collapsed behind him and the men lowered him to the ground away from the building.

  ‘Are you hurt, Johann?’ Marika looked into his face, blackened with dirt, and my heart clenched at the sight. A slow ooze of blood was seeping through his pyjamas and his face was pallid.

  ‘A few soft tissue injuries to my legs where the wall fell on me and perhaps broken ribs, but I’ll manage,’ he said, coughing weakly while bracing his side with his hand. ‘I woke to the sound of bombs and managed to get to the basement. The house collapsed on top of it, but the basement held. I crawled out but had a hard time getting through the rubble.’

  ‘Do you know how lucky you are?’ she murmured, holding his hand. ‘You could’ve been killed.’

  ‘I’d never leave you, liebling,’ he whispered, trying to smile.

  She kissed him lightly on the lips.

  ‘We have to get him to the medics,’ I said to the men urgently. ‘He’ll have to be checked over. Come on, Marika. Let’s get him onto a stretcher and into good hands.’ I could see his eyes beginning to glass over and knew it wasn’t long before he’d lose consciousness.

  Johann was rushed to hospital for surgery with Marika by his side. His injuries were substantial, but it was the internal bleeding that was the greatest cause for concern. He was in the care of Herr Bettingen, treating one of his own, and this gave her great strength.

  But Johann never made it out of surgery. He bled out on the table.

  Marika wouldn’t leave his side, and I stayed with her as she wept uncontrollably until his parents arrived to say goodbye to their son. After the funeral, her parents took her home to Trebbin. In one day she’d lost everything: her home and the love of her life. I couldn’t imagine the unendurable pain she was suffering. I thought about Leo hiding safely in Prenzlauer Berg. It could have been him.

  After Johann’s funeral, I had to see Leo. I needed the solid reassurance of his arms around me, the comfort to allow my own tears to fall for Marika and for Johann. We hadn’t been able to tell anyone about our engagement because of the risk to Leo, not even his parents over the telephone, but I carried the guilt of my happiness when Marika had lost hers. Johann’s death was a stark reminder of the fragility of life and how easily it could be taken away.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ said the resistance contact when I arrived at the safe house. ‘Leo can’t stay here. The bombs are getting closer every day. We’ve had information that the Allies are hitting the U-Bahn. Danziger Strasse station is only a few hundred metres away and if it’s hit…’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘None of us should be here.’

  ‘What about one of the other safe houses?’

  ‘Our network of safe houses has been all but destroyed and those that remain are either unsafe or crammed with others who have nowhere else to go. It’s best you get him out of Berlin and back home.’

  ‘But that’s the first place anybody will be looking for him.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to hide him.’ I gazed at him, aghast. ‘I’m sorry. There’s nothing more we can do.’

  After everything we’d been through to free him, I couldn’t lose Leo now to an arrest or another bombing. With thoughts of Marika and Johann still in my mind, I borrowed one of the men’s cars, which was registered under a false identity. Nobody else need be implicated if we were stopped and caught along the road. Leo was hidden in the boot and, to all intents and purposes, I was simply travelling home to my family as I had many times before. It was a little hair-raising navigating the ruined roads through the bombed districts and I was redirected around damaged or unsafe streets a few times.

  Just as we’d made it to the edge of Berlin some guards who were parked on the side of the road gestured for me to pull over.

  ‘What seems to be the problem?’ I asked, winding down my window.

  ‘Just routine checks, Fräulein,’ said the officer. He wore an SS uniform. My heart began to hammer in my chest. ‘Papers, please.’

  With a shaking hand I passed him my identification papers.

  ‘Something wrong, Fräulein?’ he asked, frowning.

  I swallowed hard. ‘No. I just want to get out of the city. These bombings are a little close for comfort.’

  He glanced through the window at the back seat. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Home. My parents live in the country about an hour and a half away.’ His face was unreadable. Sweat trickled down my back.

  ‘Car registration.’ I handed him the papers, keeping a steady hand this time. ‘This is not your vehicle,’ he said, after comparing the two documents.

  ‘No. It belongs to a friend. I’m borrowing it for a couple of days, until I get back to Berl
in.’

  ‘Wait here.’ He turned away abruptly and walked towards his companion. I couldn’t hear what they said and I thought about hitting the accelerator and just going, but before I could think any more, an officer in uniform materialised and walked briskly towards my car. I drew back involuntarily as his intimidating bulk peered in through my window.

  ‘Fräulein Göttmann? Susanna Göttmann?’

  ‘Yes?’ I said tentatively, looking up at the face in shadow.

  ‘Ernst von Glaubrecht.’ I stared blankly at him. ‘I met you at the opera last year with Julius Siebenborn and we had to evacuate to the basement during the air raid.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said hastily. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you at first.’

  ‘No matter. I don’t think any of us can think clearly with all the air raids.’ He smiled disarmingly. ‘You’re going home to visit your parents?’

  ‘That’s right. I just want to get out of the city and breathe some fresh air.’ My thighs were slick with moisture.

  ‘Understandable.’ He nodded and turned to the SS man. ‘She’s fine. She’s no risk.’ He held his hand out for my papers.

  ‘Good to see you, Susanna. Have a safe trip.’ He passed me the documents.

  ‘Thank you so much.’ I smiled brightly. ‘I can’t wait to get home.’ I edged the car back onto the road and waved at Ernst as I picked up speed and drove away, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

  It was only on the open road outside Berlin that I allowed myself to take a deep breath. I wanted more than anything to stop and make sure Leo was fine, but instead I put my foot down and made my way to the estate, glancing constantly behind me for cars. But nobody was following us, nobody was lying in wait, and we made it home in good time without further incident. I thanked God in a silent prayer for the gallant Ernst von Glaubrecht. My time among the Nazis had been useful in more ways than one.

  I drove straight to the forester’s cottage and helped Leo inside. Hans would be home for luncheon soon and he would help me hide him.

  I hugged Leo tightly, my body trembling now that the danger was over.

  ‘You did well,’ said Leo. ‘Kept your cool.’

  ‘I don’t know what I would have done if they’d opened the boot or refused to let me leave.’

  He kissed my forehead. ‘But they didn’t.’

  Hans was surprised to see us but took it in his stride. I didn’t want to leave Leo, but we thought it best I return to Berlin immediately with the car and in time for my night shift so there were no questions asked at the hospital. Hans assured me he’d keep Leo safely hidden on the estate. Onkel Georg and Tante Elya would be over the moon to see him.

  21

  At the end of March, I came across my first corpse on the streets of Berlin.

  The bombings had been relentless and the strain was evident on everyone around us. Even the most stoic and calm individuals were becoming short-tempered. With the constant influx of injured, there was no time to mourn and Marika had returned to the hospital, determined to help those she could. We were still sending boys and girls back to Onkel Georg at the estate where he and Hans also continued to manage the escapes of Russian officers from Sachsenhausen while Leo remained hidden.

  Marika and I were walking to the Zoo Tower from the tram stop, engrossed in conversation about our famous patient, Colonel Hans-Ulrich Rudel. He was the most decorated pilot in the Luftwaffe and was the object of adulation by staff and patients alike.

  Marika stopped on the path, gripping my arm. ‘Look,’ she said with horror. A silent crowd had gathered around a lamp post.

  I glanced up and then couldn’t look away from what I saw. It was a young woman hung by the neck. Her face was discoloured, her blackened tongue protruding from her mouth, and her pale hair had been shaved close to her scalp, which was bloody and raw. A sign with the words ‘Slut’ and ‘Traitor’ hung around her neck.

  ‘Oh, Susie, we have to cut her down,’ Marika whispered, her hand across her mouth.

  ‘It’s the work of the Gestapo and the SS,’ said a woman in the crowd. ‘I knew her. She was a good woman. She was just sleeping with a Polish worker.’

  ‘She’s not the first,’ said a man. ‘I’ve seen others, men and women strung up across the city. Who knows what crimes they’ve committed?’ Vigilant Gestapo and SS units harshly punished any small or imagined misdemeanour to prove the might of the Reich and to rouse citizens to one final push to defeat the enemy.

  ‘No crime deserves a punishment like this,’ said the woman, indignant.

  ‘Come on,’ I said to Marika, pulling her away. ‘We can’t do anything for her now.’

  The Americans and British had crossed the Rhine and were marching across Germany while the Soviets were drawing ever nearer to Berlin. It was only a matter of time before Germany would fall, and the Nazi regime was becoming more desperate. Bands of SS officers were rounding up anyone they believed could fight. Girls were armed and taught how to shoot and wield weapons such as hand grenades. And the SS were becoming more ruthless in their methods, executing their enemies without hesitation. We’d heard of mass executions within the concentration camps, and thousands of prisoners marched west from the camps in Poland in danger of liberation from the Russians, while thousands more were killed before their saviours’ arrival. We assumed the worst about Onkel Tedi and his family since we’d received no further letters from him after his departure to Auschwitz. These things I knew, but I never expected the Nazis to turn on their own citizens.

  But it wasn’t just the Reich we needed to be wary of. Refugees from the east had brought reports of atrocities committed by Russian troops. Women and girls were gang-raped, often killed and their bodies desecrated; homes were being looted and villages burned. It was whispered that it was retribution for Germany’s treatment of Russians earlier in the war. It was horrific to contemplate, and even more terrifying that the Russians were likely to reach us before the Americans. I couldn’t believe that we could face a worse fate than the oppressive and unpredictable rule we now endured under the Nazis. It seemed especially ironic given my family and I had been responsible for the escape of Russian POWs, who had most likely re-joined the forces now moving towards us.

  Boys from the Hitler Youth and girls from the BDM were on the street filling trams and carts with rubble and constructing barricades under instruction from the old men in the Volkssturm. Yet the feeling in the city was one of defiance. Berliners would defend the city until the end. Through the early days of April, placards in shop windows proclaimed that Berlin would never surrender and that it would always remain German. Nobody knew what to expect. Nobody knew what the future held.

  Marika and I remained at our post. The flak tower was virtually impregnable and there were still men and women who required medical attention there. But Tante Elya begged me to come home for my twenty-first birthday. We were so close to liberation, but it was also the most dangerous time. We had to tread carefully to ensure we survived the end of the war.

  Leo had been constantly on my mind. I wanted to feel him close to me, to stare into his eyes. Marika’s parents had also pleaded for her to come home and she’d decided to go to Trebbin and wait for the end of the war. She had already lost so much. Together, we left Berlin.

  Leo and I met at the forester’s cottage on the evening of my birthday. We couldn’t risk him being seen by anyone, and Tante Elya was adamant that we celebrate all together. Frau Kraus helped Hans and Leo cook rabbit stew with vegetables from her selection in the cellar. Onkel Georg brought the wine and cognac.

  As we crowded around the table, Onkel Georg stood and raised his glass. ‘This is a special night, not just because Susanna has come of age, but because we are all finally together again. We are family, brought together through love, loyalty and friendship, and Elya and I are grateful to be celebrating and enjoying the simple pleasures of life with the people we love most.’ Hans nodded and Frau Kraus clasped his hand and blinked furiously at Onkel Ge
org’s words, beaming with happiness. I wondered if they knew just how much we cherished them. ‘To family, and happy twenty-first birthday, Susanna.’

  I sipped the white wine slowly, savouring the rich creamy tones. It was one of Onkel Georg’s good ones, an old sylvaner, more full-bodied than a riesling and with a wonderful herbal aroma. I glanced at Leo. There was a sparkle in his eyes that I hadn’t seen for some time.

  ‘I have something to announce,’ said Leo, raising his glass and smiling at me. ‘I want to propose a toast to my gorgeous Susie, who’s agreed to marry me.’ The looks of delight on everyone’s faces made me pleased that we’d waited until we were all together to share our joy.

  It was a memorable evening, filled with joy and happiness and heartfelt congratulations. Only Marika was missing. It was late when we finally said goodnight, Onkel Georg and Tante Elya going back to the house and Hans and Frau Kraus heading back home to the village. Leo and I were finally alone.

  Fuelled by the wine and good food, and buoyed by the joyful response to our news, Leo took me by the hand and led me up the ladder to the attic where he slept on a mattress on the floor. ‘I’ve been waiting for this moment all night,’ he murmured in between kisses.

  ‘Me too.’ I sighed with happiness and relief, safe in his arms.

  We undressed each other. I was mesmerised by his touch and the feel of his warm skin on mine, unable to look away from the magnetic pull in his dark eyes.

  ‘Come to bed,’ I said, breathless with desire.

  ‘We’ve got all night,’ he said, grinning. He took me in his arms and the feel of his naked body against me was glorious. ‘Let’s take it slow,’ he whispered, nibbling on my ear. ‘I want to draw it out.’ He took his time reacquainting himself with my body, kissing and teasing ever lower, until the room dropped away and there was only he and I.