All My Love, Detrick

by Roberta Kagan

  Where the synagogue had stood only a day before, now only rubble and ashes remained. The smell of burning and the darkness of smoke still hung over the streets. Windows had been broken out of all of the shops, and they had been looted. He saw puddles of blood on the streets and buildings where the word, “Juden,” had been painted. Detrick thought he would vomit as he rode past the bike shop to see that it too had suffered destruction during the night. He could not stop to assess the damage; he must get to Leah and Jacob as quickly as possible. Under his breath, he prayed as he rode, "Please God, I have not been to church, I know, but I beg you to forgive me, and please, let them be safe."

  The house stood unmolested. Detrick breathed a sigh of relief. But he still could not be guaranteed they had made it through the night unharmed. He must see the family to be certain. Trembling, he raced up the stairs and rang the bell. Leah stood behind the door in her nightgown. She peeked through the peephole before flinging the door open. Her hair fell in wild waves about her head and her eyes looked wide and fearful.

  “Detrick!” She had not cried until she spoke his name. Now the tears fell upon her face in full force. Detrick took Leah into his arms and cradled her gently as her entire body shook.

  “Leah, my darling…what happened…are you all right? Is everyone in the family all right?”

  The words could not form in her throat; instead she nodded her head as he patted her hair.

  “Jacob!” Detrick cried out. “Jacob, are you here?”

  Jacob descended the stairs slowly, as if he had aged twenty years in one fateful night. Detrick saw the pain in his face but could offer no words of comfort. Both men stared at each other, knowing that things had taken a frightening turn. The mob would suffer no punishment. From now on, Jews would not be safe.

  Detrick hugged Leah tighter and kissed the top of her head. Then he turned to Jacob. “When you’re ready I will help you clean the shop and put it back together.” Then he turned to Michael and lifted him up, carefully placing him back in his bed. “How ya doin,’ Mikey?”

  “I’m glad you came. I was so scared, Detrick. It was very bad.” Red faced from crying, Michael smiled through his tears at Detrick. “I like when you call me Mikey.”

  “That’s why I do it!” For once Detrick was glad that Michael was simple minded. It made things so much less tragic for the child because he understood so little of the magnitude of what had taken place. “It’s all right, Michael…it’s gonna be all right.” Detrick ruffled Michael’s already tousled hair.

  “Thank you… Thank you for coming. Thank you for everything.” Jacob closed the bedroom door behind Detrick. “It’s best we be very careful from now on.” The older man looked at him with a seriousness Detrick had not seen before.

  Chapter 33

  Heim Hockland, Institute for the Lebensborn

  Near Munich, Germany

  Situated in the Highlands near Munich, the home for the Lebensborn beckoned with the charm of a country castle. A warm sense of homey comfort had been carefully orchestrated in every aspect of the décor. Large wool rugs covered the hardwood floors. Heavy plush furniture was scattered tastefully throughout. In the main dining area, long tables stretched across an airy and open room. In the corner, a large grand piano awaited the accomplished player who entertained at meal time. Outside, tables and chairs sat under weeping willow trees. A tennis court, pool and exercise area provided recreation. Manicured lawns, filled with flowering plants, surrounded the home. And of course, Heim Hockland featured a fully-equipped and staffed medical care center.

  Helga Haswell endured all of the questioning and testing required upon her arrival. Once approved and assigned her room, she met Hermina, her roommate. Hermina had grown up on a strawberry farm not far from Heim Hockland. Like Helga, she’d aspired to live a better life, so, rather than be the wife of a farmer, Hermina had ventured into the city. Unlike many rural women, she’d learned to read and write. Her ambitions drove her to learn shorthand and typing. With her experience, she readily acquired a secretarial position. She enjoyed the challenges of her job and the independence of living on her own. In need of a roommate to share the expenses, Hermina had advertised in the local paper. The answer had arrived in Hilda, a petite girl with dark, bobbed hair. Hilda introduced her to the single life. Together they had stayed out drinking until the early hours of morning, when they would quickly shower and go off to work. Sexual encounters became as commonplace as sharing a quick meal. Nameless men came through Hermina’s life and her bed, until she'd missed her monthly period. As with Helga, her doctor recommended the Lebensborn home. Now, pregnant and sober, she’d come to realize that perhaps she had taken some wrong turns.

  “I ran away without leaving a note. It is only recently that I have written to my mother. I told her what happened. I don’t know if she will write to me. I hope so. I miss my family. I hope they can forgive me. I tried to tell them that it is an honor to have a child for the Fuehrer. I hope they can accept that. My father might have a hard time with it, but maybe he will come around.” Hermina took the brush off of her night stand and began brushing her long hair.

  Helga shared her story with Hermina. Helga told her roommate about Eric and even confessed that she prayed daily that he might contact her. She loved him still, even after what he’d done. Daydreams filled her head. In Helga’s fantasies, Eric would return, realizing that he loved only her. He would divorce his wife and marry her. At night she would collapse, exhausted, from the daily exercise the institute forced the pregnant mothers to engage in, only to awaken an hour later. Once awake, the reality of her situation set in and she grew anxious. Sometimes she lay in bed bathed in sweat; other times the tears flowed and Helga whispered Eric’s name into the silent, darkened room.

  Down the hall Margot shared a room with Francis. The two had become friendly with Hermina before Helga’s arrival. All three of the girls would have their babies within weeks of each other and then they would leave the home. Helga would not deliver until almost three months later. When they could, her friends would drag Helga outside to sit beneath the trees. But for the most part, Helga chose to be alone. Food nauseated her and memories crept into her daily life, haunting her into depression. If only Eric would realize what he had sacrificed when he left her. If only he would return. Because of her anger at having been jilted, she wanted to believe she would be strong enough to refuse to speak to him if he did find her, but she knew she deceived herself. Helga longed for his touch, for the sound of his voice. And sometimes she made believe that he searched for her, that he would be at her side if he only knew where she had gone.

  Every day Helga’s body grew more cumbersome. Her breasts, painful and full, strained against the restraint of her brassiere. The large, hard abdomen she had grown sported a dark line down the center, and looking at herself naked in a mirror brought tears to her eyes. Helga’s shiny, blonde curls hung limp and straight, and worse, her skin had become blotchy. All she had left, she decided, kicked and squirmed inside her womb.

  At first she’d hated the baby and blamed it for all of her misfortune. But as time progressed, she’d come to know the indentations of the tiny feet and elbows as they jutted through her skin. The baby danced in its watery world as the piano player entertained during meals, and automatically, Helga’s hand caressed her abdomen and a smile crept across her face. In the beginning, she had counted the days until the birth, but now she feared her own reaction when the doctors took the child away from her, which, of course, she had agreed to when she had come to Heim Hockland. Once the baby was born, it belonged to the Lebensborn. It had seemed so simple at the beginning. But now…

  Winter came early that year, and although it was only October, the wind tossed about a light dusting of snow. Helga and Hermina walked the grounds together.

  “My family is coming to see me on Sunday. I can’t wait for both of you to meet them.” Hermina smiled her face lighting up with delight. “I finally got an answer to the letter I sent them. It ca
me yesterday. I have missed them so much.”

  “That should be nice.” Margot’s family had visited several times and both girls knew them. Her family had announced proudly that their daughter had made the highest sacrifice for the cause, and they wore it like a badge of honor. “My daughter is bearing a child for the Fuehrer.” Margot’s mother had smiled and patted her daughter’s extended belly on her last visit.

  Helga wished her mother and brother knew where she had gone, and that they too would come to visit. The loneliness she fought came upon her suddenly, and tears rushed to her eyes. Margot did not notice right away, but Hermina saw Helga’s despair, and although they had never discussed Helga’s family, Hermina knew that her friend felt the isolation.

  “Come.” Hermina locked her arm through Helga’s. “Let’s go back to the kitchen and ask the cook if we can have some hot chocolate.”

  Chapter 34

  When Helga got back to her room, she sat alone and wrote a letter to Inga. In the letter, she explained why she ran away and where she had gone. Tears smeared the ink, but she wrote until she had told the entire story. Then she tore the letter into tiny pieces and tossed them in the trash.

  She could not expect her family to understand.

  Sunday morning Hermina dressed in her prettiest pink wool frock. Her face glowed, and after sleeping the night in pin curls, her hair floated in fluffy waves about her head. A pang of jealousy shot through Helga, but she forced it away as she watched her roommate dress for the arrival of her family. Instead, Helga tried to force herself to share in Hermina’s joy. Even if watching Hermina’s reunion with her parents brought back the reminder of the pain of losing her own, Helga would wish her friend well.

  When Helga and Hermina arrived at breakfast, Margot sat waiting for them. Margot grinned as she told Hermina that her family would be visiting today, as well. Helga held back the tears that stung the back of her eyes as she chewed and over-chewed a small bit of sausage. Unable to swallow, she finally spit it into her napkin. The sadness Helga felt at the loss of Eric and her family sprang forth anew. Perhaps, Helga thought, rather than ruin the celebration, she might just go off alone.

  “I am feeling so tired. I think I want to go up and nap. Perhaps I will come down later.” Helga folded her napkin and forced a smile as she got up from the table.

  “I will come for you when my family arrives. I want them to meet you.” Hermina stroked Helga’s arm.

  Helga nodded. She would try to think of some excuse to stay in her room when Hermina came for her.

  Finally she was alone and sitting on her bed. The tears poured down Helga’s face. She had held them back for so long that they came accompanied by loud and terrible sobs. Her hand rubbed her abdomen as the baby moved in sympathy with its mothers pain. And the realization that soon the child would be born and gone from her life resurfaced, and with it, an agony so great she felt she might die. Helga cried until exhaustion overtook her, and then she slept.

  When Hermina came through the door Helga’s eyes automatically opened. She wished Hermina had not seen that she was awake. She would have preferred to have been asleep, and perhaps avoided the meeting.

  “Helga, my family is here. Come, sweetie, wash your face. They are waiting in the dining room. We will all have our meal together.”

  The smile on Hermina’s face forced Helga to push her own sadness away and follow directions. When Helga returned from washing, Hermina had laid out a dress of her own for her to wear.

  “I know you have always liked this one and it is the same blue as your eyes. Wear it for me today?” Hermina winked.

  Helga smiled. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely, it will look wonderful on you.”

  Chapter 35

  People filled the dining hall on visitors' day at Heim Hockland. They always did, but until now, Helga had avoided partaking of the celebrations. Lively polka music filled the area, accompanied by loud excited conversations. The table had been set with red and white table cloths and the smell of luscious food radiated in the air.

  “This is my roommate, Helga.” Hermina smiled “This is my mother, my father, my little sister Marsha, and my older brother, Kurt.”

  Helga brought forth the best smile she could muster. “I’m so pleased to meet all of you.”

  Margot spoke to Hermina and Helga, “Of course you both know my parents.”

  While everyone talked excitedly, Helga looked around the table. Although Hermina had been honest about her humble beginnings, Helga found herself surprised to see the simple farmers who claimed her friend as their own. Hermina’s mother wore a scarf tied around her stringy hair, while a full and colorful skirt covered her fleshy body. Flab hung at her arms, but her smile lit up the room. Marsha, Hermina’s little sister, wore her church dress and sat very still, as if she had never been amongst such a large crowd before. The father and brother both wore clean denim overalls and white shirts, with skinny black ties. Their big hands were strong and calloused. Kurt looked up from his plate to find Helga studying him, and a slow and easy smile came to his face. The open sincerity that shone in Kurt's face forced Helga to return the smile. He looked to be about twenty years old, with short cropped hair and a large, strong body. Kurt’s years of manual labor in the summer sun had left a permanent bronze stain upon his skin, which offset his light green eyes. Helga could not deny that she found his rugged exterior pleasing, even if his clothing lacked the polished style she had come to appreciate.

  During lunch Margot’s mother spoke with bravado of the pride she felt at her daughter’s contribution to the cause.

  “These children our daughters will bear will rule the world. They are the pride of the Third Reich. Every child born here at Heim Hockland is of pure Aryan blood. And to think…we…all of us here at this table…are a contributing part of it.”

  Helga’s eyes dropped. Would her mother ever feel that way? And if she asked herself honestly, would she? Now that the infant grew deep within her, she acknowledged that she wanted to keep and raise the baby. This child belonged to her; her own blood flowed within its veins. And because of an agreement she had made in desperation, the day would come when it would be ripped from her arms, and she would never see it again. Motherhood would be denied her. The baby would take its first steps and speak its first words while someone else stood by. When the child laughed or called out, “Mommy!” another would answer. And who could she trust to comfort her little one when he was ill? These thoughts haunted her mind and she forgot to eat. In fact she did not even realize the others conversed, or that the music played. Although surrounded by friends, Helga sat wrapped in her own painful, dark world of loss.

  Margot’s family explained that they must leave early, as they had a long drive back home. Once the goodbyes had been said, with hugs all around, Margot went to walk her family to their car.

  A light snow had fallen earlier that morning, covering the rolling hills and dusting the trees surrounding Heim Hockland.

  “Would you like to see the grounds?” Hermina asked her parents.

  “Yes, of course. Go and put your coats on, girls. We don’t want you to catch cold,” Hermina’s father instructed her and Helga.

  Hermina and her parents walked ahead, talking softly, while little Marsha played with the snow. Rainbows from the sun’s rays cast diamonds upon the virginal white landscape.

  Kurt and Helga lagged behind allowing Hermina time to reconnect with her mother.

  “I’m glad they are on speaking terms again. My mother used to cry all the time.”

  “I can understand.” Helga wondered if her own mother cried for her.

  Kurt glanced over at Helga and saw that she seemed to be upset. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you feel bad.”

  The tenderness in Kurt’s voice brought out such a rush of emotion in Helga that she felt her false attempt at strength begin to shatter. All of the tears Helga had hidden would no longer be repressed. She began to weep uncontrollably as she wiped her wet
face with the back of her glove.

  “I am so clumsy with women. I don’t know what to say or do, and it seems whatever I say or do is the wrong thing. Forgive me, please, Helga.” Kurt wrung his hands in distress.

  Helga had never met a man so honest and willing to admit his inadequacies. She could not believe that he was willing to appear unsophisticated. All of the men she knew had prided themselves on their power, their finesse and their charm. How refreshing Kurt seemed in comparison. But Helga refused to consider him as a possible suitor. He lacked everything she aspired to find in a lover. Kurt had no money, no power, no position, nothing. He was a country bumpkin, nothing more than a farmer.

  They walked for a while in silence.

  “My family has no idea where I am.” Helga didn’t know why she felt suddenly so compelled to share that information with Kurt.

  Kurt nodded. “I understand. That must be hard.”

  “It is.” It was nice for Helga to be with a to a man she felt no need to impress; it made it so much easier to talk to him, to get things off of her chest. “I got pregnant by a man who had a wife and children. I didn’t know it at the time. I guess you could say he deceived me.” Even as the words left her lips, Helga felt the heartbreak over Eric start anew.

  “I’m sorry to hear it. Well, I don’t know what to say to make you feel better. It is a terrible thing to lie to someone; it is how people get hurt. I can imagine you must feel betrayed. All I can say is, I hope you know that it wasn’t your fault.”