Q nodded. He and Erhard understood each other. “Caution is the mother of wisdom.”
“You’re right, we can’t be careful enough.”
When Martin arrived, he looked slightly uneasy but took a chair at the round table in Erhard’s office.
“Martin, you’ve done well since our last meeting. I need you to carry out an important task with the utmost discretion.” Erhard said.
Martin’s hazel eyes went wide. “Sure.”
Q leaned back in his seat and observed the two men at the table with him. Erhard, his long-time friend and partner in crime, sat on his left. Nearly forty years old, his blond hair was cut almost military short and his piercing blue eyes seemed to be able to look right inside the head of those talking to him. His demeanor showed the signs of authority, while Martin, on the other hand, seemed to be sitting on hot coals.
For a moment, Q felt guilty about dragging Martin into their resistance activities.
“I need you to gather drawings, technical data and fabrication orders…everything one might need in order to start a serial fabrication outside of Loewe. Can you have this ready by the end of the day?”
It was an unusual request, but Erhard was the boss, so Martin didn’t dare to oppose. He nodded.
After Martin left, Q raised his voice. “We should tell him the truth. He needs to have the chance to say no.”
Erhard nodded. “And we will. Tonight.”
***
The next day, the three met again for lunch. “How did it go yesterday?” Q asked them.
Martin grinned like a lightbulb. “Great. I wanted to give the papers to Erhard in his office, but he asked me to keep them until the evening. He told me he’d be waiting for me at the corner of Siemensstraße. I actually found this a bit strange and was somehow worried – but more curious.”
Erhard chuckled. “Martin passed our test with flying colors, and I asked him if he wants to work for our cause.”
Martin blushed at the praise. “You know, I was initially worried you’d accuse me of sabotaging the production, but when you mentioned the time after a total victory…I remembered our earlier discussions and noted there was a common denominator. I suspected you two were doing some kind of subversive work–”
“No such thing.” Q stopped him. “We don’t ever mention those words. You understand?”
“Yes.”
Erhard added, “The less you know, the safer it is. For everyone. Don’t ask. Just do.”
Martin paused for a moment. Fear, anxiety, and pride fought for dominance in his eyes until he took a deep breath. “You’re right. I know what happens to people who oppose our Führer.”
“If the time is right, you’ll get to know more. I have known you long enough to know you are on our side. Now it’s time to work until we’ve succeeded. One day we will harvest the fruits of our work.”
“Well said, Erhard,” Q commented on his friend’s little speech.
The three men got up, and Q and Martin left the small canteen together. On the way to the laboratories, Martin barely contained his thrill. “When will we start? And how?”
“Slow down. I’ll teach you our production lines and all the problems that could happen.”
Two days later, during their lunch break, Erhard said, “Martin has solved his first task very well, now I have another one for you two.”
Q saw the eagerness in Martin’s face and chuckled. Was I that enthusiastic ten years ago? It seemed that, for Martin, their resistance activities were an exciting game, a challenging competition to outsmart the government.
Erhard’s voice cut through his thoughts, “…I need you to make two short-wave transmitters.”
Great. That would give them the opportunity to communicate with Moscow and possibly other countries. Q’s mind leaped forward, trying to figure out where they could hide those transmitters. “We could disguise them as prototypes.”
Both Martin and Erhard stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Disguise our employees as prototypes?”
“No. The transmitters. If we use one of the radio control boards the Wehrmacht has ordered and–”
“Q, Stop.” Erhard cut him off. “I just told Martin that we need to screen all employees for reliability in case of an eventual upheaval. See why we need help? You’ll take care of the transmitters while Martin oversees our employees.”
Q scowled at his friend, but then he grinned. “Sure. I’ll go and tinker with the equipment. Martin can talk to the others all he wants.”
“Now let’s go over the production goals for this week,” Erhard said and fixated on Martin closely. “Always remember, our main goal is to increase production waste, but this must be handled carefully. It must always be due to a material defect, and never negligence of our personnel.”
“If we raise the slightest suspicion that someone could be causing these problems, we’ll all be in hot water,” Q added.
Martin nodded.
In recent months, it had become more and more difficult to contact the Soviet agent. Thus, Q’s focus had shifted from giving technical information to the Russians, to doing anything that opposed the German government. Sabotage, gathering important war information, and preparing for a life after this terror was over.
He still hoped that the German people would see Hitler for who he truly was and stop the charade. After an upheaval of the entire nation against their rulers, they’d need new, trustworthy people in place, and with Martin’s help screening the personnel, Loewe would be prepared.
Chapter 25
As December arrived, Hilde and Q once again took the train to Hamburg to spend Christmas with her parents. It had been surprisingly easy to get the required travel permits. Not even the Nazi regime dared to interfere with German Christmas traditions, and visiting family was one of them.
Hilde leaned against the window and watched the landscapes pass by. Wherever she looked was destruction. The result of the continuous air raids. She sighed deeply and Q took her hand.
“I hope this war will end soon,” she said. “It’s getting worse every day.”
“It will end,” Q answered, “one way or another. Either we win the war and Hitler subdues all of Europe, or our country will be destroyed completely. The Allies will be even harsher than after the Great War if they win.” Q shuddered.
“I was too young to remember the Great War,” Hilde said and retreated into her thoughts while Volker was peacefully sleeping on Q’s lap. She’d thought about returning to work next year, but Q had convinced her to stay at home with their son.
He’d handed her all the administrative tasks associated with his private research. Not that he invented much anymore. He was always afraid his inventions would be abused in the name of war.
But he still worked with a patent lawyer to sell the commercial rights connected to earlier inventions to other countries. Most of the technical stuff she didn’t understand, but her typewriting skills came in handy with all the needed correspondence.
Sometimes he’d let her type up technical instructions regarding the radio production at Loewe. He thinks I don’t understand, but I do. Her transcriptions would be given to the Russians either by Erhard or himself. She never asked, and he didn’t tell, but she knew. She could see it in his eyes, in his posture, when the tasks he gave her belonged to his intelligence work.
She sighed again and looked at her sleeping son. Volker was a darling little boy with white-blond hair, bringing happiness to their lives without even trying. He’d inherited his father’s curls and bright blue eyes, but her mouth and nose. I’d give anything to see him grow up in a world of peace.
“It’s his first Christmas,” she said, twirling one of his curls around her finger.
Q nodded. “And he’ll celebrate his first birthday in less than three weeks.”
“Do you think he understands what’s going on in this world?” Her voice betrayed her fear.
“I doubt it. He’s too young. But we’ll make it as normal and harmonic as
possible – for everyone.”
“I feel a bit guilty that my parents haven’t been able to see him sooner.”
“It just wasn’t possible to make the trip, neither for you nor for them.”
“I know, but…” Volker stirred in his sleep but didn’t open his eyes. They smiled at each other and stopped talking, not wanting to wake the tired child.
Some time later, the train stopped in Hamburg, and Emma met them at the train station. “Oh look. How cute you are, darling! You look even sweeter than on the pictures your Mommy sent me. Say hello to your Oma.”
Volker looked at her with bright eyes, apparently understanding every word, because he raised his little hand to touch Emma’s face and babbled some incoherent sounds.
Hilde laughed. “He’s intelligent.”
“That’s because he’s my son,” Q said with pride.
On their way to the Dremmer home, they witnessed the remains of the horrible air raid over Hamburg a month ago. Hilde involuntarily shivered. “Emma, we’re so relieved nothing happened to you.”
Emma stopped for a moment, and her lips tightened. “We were lucky, but many others weren’t.”
Changing the subject, Emma filled them in on the news of the family. “Julia won’t come home for Christmas. She’ll stay at the farm with the Reichsarbeitsdienst.” Her face softened, and her eyes glowed. “She’s been offered a job in the administration of the farm.”
“Aren’t you worried about her being so far away?” Hilde asked.
“Worried? No. At least in the countryside, I know she’s getting enough food. And it’s safer. The bombers tend to concentrate on the big cities.”
Hilde wanted to ask her step-mother why she wouldn’t leave Hamburg and stay with Sophie in the countryside, but she already knew the answer. Just like herself, Emma wouldn’t leave her husband alone.
For a moment, her heart filled with sadness because Ingrid couldn’t be with them. Q adored his mother, but she was too old and fragile to make the journey to Hamburg. Instead, she spent the holidays with her other son, Gunther.
She grimaced. She and Gunther had never gotten along and had developed a pattern of avoiding each other, even after he’d moved back to Berlin with his family a few years ago.
“What are you thinking?” Q interrupted her thoughts.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you looking so worried?”
“It’s just…I was thinking about your mother, and then Gunther. All of his sons, except for the youngest, have been sent to war. It must be so awful for Katrin and him.”
“Since when are you fond of my brother?” he teased.
Hilde gave him a small smile. “Not of him, particularly, but I can understand the anxiety he must go through to have three of his sons at the front lines, waiting, hoping, and praying every day that they will come home.”
Q squeezed her hand. “I know. Let’s hope this war will end sooner rather than later, and his youngest will be spared the experience.”
Emma interrupted them. “How old are your nephews?”
“Twenty-four, twenty, eighteen, and fourteen.”
“Fourteen. One year younger than Sophie,” Carl said.
“It’s a crime against our youth! How can they be children in a world like this? How can they be happy and carefree when disaster is looming above their heads?” Q had raised his voice, and Hilde gave him a hug.
Everyone knew he was right. If the war continued, it was only a matter of time before teenagers like his nephew would be sent off to fight.
“Well, we won’t let anyone ruin our Christmas holidays. No more talk of the war. Dinner is ready,” Emma declared.
During dinner, they caught up on each other’s lives. The company where Hilde’s father did the taxes and handled the accounting department had changed and now exclusively produced war goods. Uniforms for the Wehrmacht, to be precise.
And just like that, they’d reverted to the topic of war. Emma shot her husband a sharp look and Hilde hurried to ask her sister, “Sophie, how is school going this year?”
Sophie made a face, “Awful. If there is school at all.”
“I bet you do like the days without school,” Q said, and Hilde thought she saw a mischievous light in his eyes. Despite his passion for science, he must have been a terrible student at school. She made a mental note to ask Ingrid about Q’s school years.
“No. Those are even worse.” Sophie pouted. “They make us work.”
Q chuckled. “Well, I believe work isn’t bad for you.”
“This kind of work is,” Sophie insisted. “For an entire week, we have to do our share in supporting the Reich. Like harvesting produce at the farms and orchards, or collecting old metal to produce more weapons.”
Hilde swallowed hard. The Nazis used school children for war production?
Sophie had talked herself into a rage, and not even the stern glances of her mother could stop her flow of words. “I hate it! At school, they make us listen to the daily report of the Armed Forces, telling us about the great victories of our soldiers and then make us discuss the strategic masterstrokes of our Führer.”
“Enough,” Carl intervened. “I believe your mother wanted to hear nothing more about the war.”
A long silence ensued until Volker rescued them with his cheerful nature and his need to play. He insisted on being put down on the floor, and everyone welcomed the distraction.
Volker had been pulling himself up on furniture for the last few weeks but had yet to trust his balance enough to let go and take his first steps. Now with a big audience, he clapped his tiny hands and then took two steps before plummeting to the ground.
Hilde jumped up with tears of pride in her eyes and hugged her son, praising him for his grand achievement.
Chapter 26
The next day was Christmas Eve.
Traditionally, they would decorate the tree together, but as Hilde looked around her parents’ small home, no Christmas tree stood in front of the window. Trees were hard to come by and expensive. Instead, her father had gathered a few branches, tied them together, and affixed them to a wooden stand. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
It took them all of five minutes to decorate the branches in a traditional fashion. A few of the precious glass bowls and some straw stars. Hilde was looking at the small manufactured version of a Christmas tree and could only shake her head. The Nazis had tried very hard to turn the Christian celebration into a profane festivity they called Julfeier.
Without much success though. If there was one thing the German people would argue about with their government, it was their beloved Christmas traditions. Not even the most die-hard Nazi supporters liked the idea of a Julfeier.
Hilde recalled a propaganda flier she and Q had found on the train to Hamburg. She’d forgotten about its existence and now pulled it out of her pocket.
“This is what is circulating out there,” she said to Emma.
Emma gazed at the flier, then dropped it as if it were poison. “Over my dead body! We’ve used glass bowls and straw stars since I was a kid, and it will stay this way until I die.”
Hilde picked the flier up and put it in the trash. The images of an SS officer hanging swastika ornaments on a Christmas tree made her stomach churn. Nothing is holy anymore! Not even the birth of the Holy Child.
When she returned to the living room, Emma was muttering under her breath and still livid. It would be funny if it weren’t so sad. Like most Germans, Emma would never openly criticize the Nazis, but that was before they had attempted to mess with Christmas and the traditions she held dear to her heart.
Now she was acting like a lioness whose children were being threatened. Carl joined them, and upon hearing what had his wife so upset, he excused himself and returned with a leaflet of his own.
“These were being distributed at the company a few days ago.”
Q took it and read it aloud while everyone laughed.
Reference: Discontinuation of
this year’s Christmas Holidays
Due to the circumstances caused by the war, this year Christmas will be discontinued.
Reason: The Holy Joseph has been drafted to the Wehrmacht.
The Blessed Virgin Mary has been mobilized as a munitions worker.
The Infant Jesus has been evacuated due to constant air raids.
The Magi didn’t receive an entry permit.
The Star of Bethlehem had to be blacked out.
The Shepherds went into the trenches.
The Stable has been converted into a gun emplacement.
The Straw has been seized by the troops.
The Diapers of the Infant Jesus had to be delivered to the textile collection.
The Crib has been given to the National Socialist People’s Welfare.
And because of the donkey alone, it doesn’t make sense to celebrate Christmas.
As Q ended his recital, he glanced at the flyer and then at Carl. “They were handing these out at your company?”
Carl paled. “The company officials were already away for the holiday. When we came back from lunch, they were lying on our desks.”
“Whoever made and distributed these leaflets, risked their lives for it. We need to burn it immediately,” Q said.
“Q, aren’t you over-reacting just a bit?” Emma questioned.
“No. Being in possession of this could land us all in jail.”
Carl added, “Emma, he’s right. I should have never taken the leaflet. By bringing it to our home, I’ve endangered us all.”
Q stepped towards the sink and lit the leaflet on fire. When he could no longer hold it without singeing his fingers, he dropped it into the sink and then washed the ashes down the drain. Then he turned and looked at Hilde and the rest of her family.
How many more Christmases will be like this? Hilde wondered.
In the evening, after dinner, they opened the presents, which were rather modest and of avail this year. Warm winter gloves for Emma. Hand-knitted stockings for Sophie. Cigars for Carl. A sweater for Q, and a shawl for Hilde. The only person showered with gifts was little Volker.
Unyielding: Love and Resistance in WW2 Germany (World War II Trilogy) Page 13