by JJ Toner
Heath listened with interest to Arvid’s information. “How solid is this, Arvid?”
“Rock solid.”
“I’ll pass it on. You know I appreciate every morsel you give me. And everything you’ve given me so far has been priceless. It’s golden. Washington is more than grateful…”
Arvid sensed a ‘but.’
“But I’m concerned about your other activities.” He pulled a leaflet from his briefcase and placed it on his desk. “Is this one of yours?”
“Yes. Do you like it?”
“You do realize these are all over Berlin? They’re everywhere. If you’d dropped a ton of them from an airplane you couldn’t have done a better job of spreading them around. And what’s this nonsense about Hitler’s niece.”
“It’s a story. She died in mysterious circumstances. Mud sticks. There may even be a grain of truth in it. The point of the story is to shake the people out of their complacency. Life is too soft, and everything seems to fall into their laps since Hitler took over as Chancellor. We want them to think for themselves and not swallow every feel-good story published in the national press.”
“Well, I’d like to ask you, in the strongest possible terms, to put a stop to these activities. They raise the stakes enormously, drawing attention to your network when you should be keeping as low a profile as possible, collecting valuable Intel. That’s the most effective way you can fight for Germany. This…” He stabbed at the leaflet with the stem of his pipe. “This rubbish is not helping anyone.”
Arvid took a deep breath. “The broadsheet leaflets are the most direct way that I can strike a blow against the Nazis. This is my country, Donald. I can’t sit on my hands and do nothing while insidious Nazi propaganda worms its way into the minds of our young people.”
Chapter 16
September 1938
Greta saw very little of Adam during September, and when she did see him he never had time to talk to her. Something important was afoot, but she couldn’t find out what it was. She paid a visit to Libertas’s mansion to see if she knew what was going on.
Libertas shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve hardly seen Harro these last three weeks. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Hitler’s negotiations with the British and the French over the Sudetenland. All I can tell you is that we had a visit from Hans Oster and Walther von Brauchitsch a few days ago.”
Greta knew who von Brauchitsch was. Everybody did. He was supreme commander of the German army. “Who’s Hans Oster?”
“Generalmajor Hans Oster is deputy head of Military Intelligence, the Abwehr.”
“And you’ve no idea what this is about?”
“None. Have you spoken to Mildred? She might have picked up something from Arvid.”
#
Mildred Harnack had little enough to add. Arvid had been spending so much time at the Economics Ministry that she had jokingly suggested he should have a bed put in his office. He had done exactly that, and now she never saw him from one end of the week to the next.
Mildred was sinking back into depression. Arvid had made promises to her when she left the sanatorium, promises that he had failed to keep. Greta did her best to cheer her up, but Mildred’s problems were deep-seated and stemmed from homesickness. She needed to be in Maryland with her elderly mother, whose health was declining.
And then one day toward the end of September, Adam swore Greta to secrecy and told her what was happening. The British were taking a firm stance on the Sudetenland. They had threatened a war if Hitler moved against any part of Czechoslovakia. The French and Italians had sided with the British and Neville Chamberlain was to attend a conference in Munich to copper-fasten the British position. Generalmajor Oster and a wide grouping of senior Wehrmacht figures were planning to remove Hitler from power. As soon as the conference ended the army would storm the Chancellery and arrest Hitler. A subgroup of the more militant conspirators wanted to have him executed. The SS would be neutralized and the armed forces would run the country until a new government could be elected.
Adam finished by saying, “I want you and Ule out of Berlin when all this happens. Take Ule away somewhere, anywhere. I’ll contact you when it’s safe to return.”
Greta took Ule to Düsseldorf for a week.
#
On September 30, the conference in Munich broke up. Neville Chamberlain emerged waving a piece of paper that guaranteed “peace for our time.” As the price of peace, key parts of Czechoslovakia had been ceded to the Third Reich. Hitler emerged from the talks as the world’s greatest negotiator, and without the support of the British, the planned coup was doomed to failure.
Chapter 17
October 1938
On October 6 Pauletta, the maid from the Schulze-Boysen household, delivered a package to the Kuckhoffs’ apartment. While Greta opened the package the maid played peekaboo with Ule.
Inside the package Greta found Anna and Max’s two Ariernachweise and a short note from Libertas.
“Greta: Sorry for the delay. Emmy has set everything up. Tell the lovebirds to make a new application to the Ethnic and Racial Affairs department without delay. They should ask for an official called Kurt Framzl. He’ll be expecting them. Tell them not to offer any more than the standard application fee (RM 20). The SS are now very strict about bribery. Corruption is considered one of the worst crimes against the Reich and they are determined to stamp it out in the lower ranks. We must have another get together soon, the three of us.
Affectionately, L.”
The following day Greta set off for the young couple’s apartment in Kolonnenstrasss, pushing the pram. The wind blew, but there was warmth in the patchy sunshine. Greta enjoyed the journey.
She found the apartment building, parked the pram, and carried a sleeping infant up the stairs to the second floor.
Anna opened the apartment door and invited Greta inside.
Greta said, “I thought you might both be at work.”
“Max’s at work, but I haven’t been feeling well for a couple of days. You have news for us?” Anna looked terrified that Greta might have bad news.
Greta took a seat on an old sofa, settled Ule on her lap and handed Libertas’s package to Anna.
Anna dropped it on the table as if it was too hot to handle. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
Anna tore the package open. She read the note, the smile on her face growing wider and wider. “Who’s this L?”
“She’s a friend.”
Anna read the note again. She squealed. “I can’t believe it. It’s fantastic. We can get married and it won’t cost us a pfennig more.”
“You’ll have to pay the marriage application fee again.”
“I meant it won’t cost us any more than the fee we paid to Madam Krauss.”
“You paid Madam Krauss a fee?” Ule began to cry. “He’s teething.” Greta put him on her knee and rubbed his gums. The crying reduced to a gurgling whimper.
Anna read the note for a third time, tears of joy rolling down her face. “I still can’t believe it.”
“How much did you pay Madam Krauss?”
“Oh, she charged us 100 Reichsmarks. I was glad to pay it. Max wasn’t convinced that she would succeed. She said she’d try, but we shouldn’t get our hopes up too high. This is wonderful! I can’t wait to tell him. You must thank Madam Krauss for us.”
Greta smiled. She said nothing. Madam Krauss had some questions to answer.
Greta lowered her wriggling infant onto the floor. He crawled across to Anna and stood up, holding her knees. He looked over his shoulder, grinning at his mother. Anna lifted him onto her lap and he stuffed a fist into his mouth.
“He likes you,” said Greta.
Anna beamed. “He’s big. He’s heavy. How old is he?”
“Ten months. He’s an eating machine.”
“He’s gorgeous. You must be very proud.” She handed the infant back.
Greta asked if there was somewhere to change his diaper. Ann
a cleared a space on the table and watched the whole procedure with interest. Then Anna was struck by a thought. “I should call my parents and tell them.”
“Don’t do that yet. Wait until you have the Marriage Authorization in your hands. Something could still go wrong.”
#
In the evening, Greta fed the baby and got him off to sleep. She served a meal for Adam. While he was eating she put on her coat.
Adam looked up from his plate. “Where are you going, Greta? It’s late.”
“The Rosens. It’s been four days since my last visit. They must be running low on supplies.”
“The Rosens are not your responsibility, Greta. They need to stand on their own feet, like everyone else.”
“And how would you suggest they do that?”
“I don’t know. It’s not our problem. David Rosen has his antiques shop.”
“I explained about that. The Brownshirts, the intimidation.”
“It’s really not your problem. I wish you’d drop it.”
Greta took a deep breath. She loved Adam, but she hated it when he told her what to do. She wasn’t a child. “Keep an eye on Ule. I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours.”
She picked up her basket and left the apartment before he had a chance to object again. She set off toward the Rosens’ home at a brisk walk. She had loved Adam since she met him as a student in America, and she respected his courageous stance against the Nazis, but his attitude on the subject of the Rosens was so wrong, so out of character. She couldn’t understand it.
A beaming Matilde Rosen opened the door. She led Greta into the kitchen and poured her a glass of sherry.
Greta took a sip. The sherry warmed her as it went down. “What are we celebrating, Matilde?”
“David has gone back to work. He opened the shop three days ago. He’s had some customers and brought home some money. I’ve been out to the grocery shop for the first time in a month.”
“That’s wonderful, Matilde. How is David?”
“He’s almost back to his old self, making plans. He has started believing in a future for us again. He’s convinced the bad times are at an end.”
“Is that what you think?”
“You know what I think. Things will be much worse for us as long as this government is in power.”
“And Sophie?”
“Sophie’s happy that her old papa is back.”
Greta looked up the staircase on the way to the front door, and caught a glimpse of Sophie and her doll, Aschenputtel, listening at the top of the stairs.
Chapter 18
October 1938
Once again Max found himself on that familiar bench on the third floor of the Gestapo building. A finger of sweat ran down the back of his neck. Anna was ecstatic. She was already working on her wedding plans. But something could still go wrong. His mind ran through all sorts of wild possibilities. It was so easy for things to turn sour in government work, for apparent racing certainties to fall at the last fence. The government worker who made the arrangements could be less influential then he thought; someone higher up the chain of command might have vetoed the whole thing. Or whoever he was could have met with an accident. He could be lying in a coma in a hospital bed, unable to sign the final document. He could be dead. Sudden, unexplained deaths were commonplace in Germany nowadays.
He ran a finger under his collar. No, it would be a mere formality now that Frau Greta had made the arrangements. He just needed to keep calm, present his documents to this Kurt Framzl and all would be well.
Framzl was a tall, fresh-faced individual wearing an SS uniform with the SS death’s head on his cap. Max handed over the two Ariernachweise. Framzl frowned when he saw Anna’s card. “Your fiancée is part-Jewish, I see.”
“Everything has been arranged, Herr Framzl. I was told to ask for you by name.”
“Indeed? I see nothing here. Oh, wait a moment. Your name is Noack? I have a note here somewhere.” He rummaged through a bundle of papers in a tray. “Yes, here it is. I have been asked to consider granting special approval to you and this Mischling. What was her name again?”
Asked to consider?
“Anna Weber.”
Framzl positioned the completed marriage application on the counter pad. “You have the application fee, Herr Noack?”
Max placed 20 Reichsmarks on the counter with a trembling hand.
Framzl opened the cash box, signed a receipt and handed it over. Max tucked it into his wallet with the first one.
Framzl placed the notes in the box. “You have something else for me?”
The implication was clear. This was the trap that they had been warned about. Offer a bribe and Anna could wave her wedding goodbye. “No, I don’t think so.”
Framzl locked the cash box. “Very well. I am willing to approve your Marriage Application. You will not be eligible for the 1,000 Reichsmarks marriage loan and there is just one other matter to be attended to.” Framzl reached under the counter and pulled out another piece of paper. He unfolded it and placed it on top of Max’s application. “Do you recognize this?”
Max examined it. It looked like a leaflet, crudely printed. “I’ve never seen it before. What is it?”
“Read it.”
Max picked up the leaflet and scanned it. It was ant-Nazi, anti-government, clearly a subversive document. It ended with the words:
‘All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.’ Edmund Burke (1729-1797)
Rise Up! Rise Up! Take a stand against the Nazis.
A vague rallying cry, thought Max, and not at all realistic. The Gestapo had a way of dealing with anyone who took a stand against them.
“What is it?”
Framzl grabbed the leaflet from him, folded it, and put it back under the counter. “It’s a broadsheet leaflet, one of many printed by the Communists, the so-called Red Orchestra. What do you think of it?”
“It’s subversive. Surely it’s not legal.”
“Of course it’s not legal. What do you think should be done about it?”
Where was this leading?
“The Communists should be arrested.”
“And they will be as soon as we can catch them. Would you like to help us with this?”
What did this have to do with a marriage application?
“I know nothing of police matters, Herr Framzl. I would have no notion how to find these people.”
“And yet you already know some of them.”
Max was horrified. “No, I don’t know these people.”
“Frau Schulze-Boysen, the actress, you know her. She was the one who interceded on your behalf.”
“I never heard of her.”
Framzl curled his lip. “We have had our eyes on Frau Schulze-Boysen and her husband for some time. We haven’t managed to locate their printer, but when we do, they will be arrested. You can help us with this task.” He handed the marriage application to Max. “Your Marriage Application is approved in principle. All you require now is the official Reich stamp and my signature. However, it will be recorded as a black mark against you on your employment record. That black mark will mean that you will never be eligible for promotion. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You can redeem yourself and the black mark may be removed if you carry out one valuable service for the Reich.”
“What sort of service?”
“You will join the Red Orchestra and work from within to help unmask the Communist subversives behind these leaflets. Bring me the location of the printer. Complete this task and I will stamp and sign your application, and the black mark may be removed from your employment record.”
Max’s heart rate doubled. “I couldn’t do that, Herr Framzl. I have no desire to join the Communist Party.”
“You must play the part like an actor. You must let these people know that you hate the Führer and the Nazi Party with a passion. You live and breathe to bring down the democratically elect
ed government of the Fatherland by any means at your disposal. You can do that, can’t you?”
“I don’t know, Herr Framzl…”
“I know you can do it. Be passionate and they will believe you. I have every faith in you.”
Part 2
Chapter 19
October 1938
Max took the long way back to the apartment. This Gestapo man was mad! How was he going to worm his way into the Communist Resistance, the Red Orchestra? Be passionate! Framzl was under the mistaken impression that Max was acquainted with an actress, an actress that he’d never heard of, and whose name he couldn’t recall. He had no wish to be a Gestapo informer. They were the lowest of the low. And even if he did manage somehow to join the Red Orchestra, how could he report back to the Gestapo without getting himself killed by the Communists?
What would become of him if he failed? Refusal to approve his Marriage Application could be the least of his worries.
What was he going to tell Anna? He couldn’t tell her the truth. He’d have to make something up to explain why their application was still not approved. Maybe he could persuade Framzl to stamp and sign the document without completing the impossible task, and they could still get married. If not, and he had to complete the task, Anna need never know the price he had to pay for her happiness.
He caught a tram. Leaving the tram a couple of stops from the apartment, he called into one of his favorite watering holes and drained a liter of beer to fortify himself for the battle to come. Good beer is supposed to stimulate the brain cells, but by the time he arrived at the apartment, he still hadn’t worked out what he was going to say.