The Watcher

by Joan Hiatt Harlow

  “He went back to Sweden. I am Otto. Come in.” The buzzer went off, and I held the door open for Barret and Watcher.

  “It worked!” I whispered.

  We walked up three flights of stairs to Otto’s apartment. A middle-aged man with a beard and mustache stood in a doorway, waiting. “I am Otto,” he said, motioning for us to come in.

  A short, round woman, with white braids encircling her head peeked out from the kitchen. “Willkommen! I am Ulla, Otto’s sister,”

  “How do you do?” Barret said. “I am Conrad Nelson, and this is my sister, Karin.”

  Ulla came slowly into the hallway, her eyes on Watcher. “Does the dog bite?”

  “Not unless we tell him to,” Barret answered.

  “Actually, he’s a sweet dog,” I added quickly.

  Otto led us into living room. “Sit down, children. We have much to discuss. I am waiting to hear from a fisherman who will take you by boat to Copenhagen. However, it will have to be under secret and dangerous circumstances. Dangerous because the German navy is patrolling all the waters around Copenhagen and often stops boats to investigate the ships. They will immediately arrest Jews, as well as those they think might be members of the Resistance.”

  “We are not Jews, and we do have papers to prove we are German citizens,” Barret offered. “Perhaps we should go by train?”

  “It will be equally dangerous,” Otto said. “All border crossings into Denmark are under strict surveillance.”

  I was sure Otto and Ulla noticed the disappointment on our faces because Ulla spoke up quickly. “You are welcome to stay here with us until Otto makes contact with the captain. You will be safe here. Did anyone see you as you came up the stairs? Anyone in the apartments below?”

  “I didn’t see anyone,” I said.

  “How long do you think it will be before you hear?” Barret asked.

  “Only a day or two.”

  “No sooner? We must to get out of Hamburg soon . . . in case it is bombed.” Barret chose his words carefully.

  “Oh, Hamburg is safe. The city is encircled with antiaircraft defense stations, and now we have complete radar protection. It’s safer here than anywhere.”

  “Oh, Ja,” Ulla added. “The radar can tell us in advance if bombers are coming from a hundred miles or more. And there are about two thousand shelters.”

  “Ach! You will be out on the sea before Hamburg is bombed,” Otto assured us. “You’ll be fine here for now.”

  “What do you think, Conrad?” I asked Barret.

  “It’s the only thing we can do.”

  Later, when we were alone, I whispered to Barret, “Should we tell these people about the coming bombing? After all, they are risking their own lives to save us.”

  “When we are safely on board the ship,” Barret answered.

  For the next few days we stayed in Otto’s apartment. I slept on a cot in Ulla’s room while Barret slept on a couch. Watcher slept in the kitchen, where Ulla fed him scraps, and lost her fear of my big dog.

  Every morning Otto went into Hamburg to meet with his “sources.” One day he came home much earlier than usual. We heard his footsteps running up the stairs and then he burst into the apartment. “The Gestapo is going house-to-house in this area, searching for members of the Resistance.” He peered out the window. “They are on this street now! Thank the good Lord I made it back here in time,” he said breathlessly. “They will be here soon. We could try to bluff them—I could say you are my niece and nephew. However, I am concerned they will be suspicious, even with the guide dog. They’d take you away for questioning.” He turned to me. “I am wondering if your mother—Adrie—might have a search out for you, Karin. Opa told me that your mother has connections with the Abwehr. She knows you took your dog. So I prefer that you all hide.”

  He rushed us into his bedroom and opened a closet door. He reached behind the clothing that hung inside, turned a latch, and a section of the back wall opened. “Get in, get in! Schnell!”

  I took Barret’s hand and pulled him through the clothing and into the dark recess of the hiding place. “Come, Watcher!” I whispered, and my dog followed. We could hear banging on the doors below. Watcher began to whine. His ear perked up and he let out a yelp.

  “They’re here. Don’t let him bark,” Otto warned. “Keep him quiet.”

  “Hide!” I commanded my dog. Immediately he stretched out onto the rough floor of the secret place and put his head on his front legs.

  Otto closed the hidden door and left us in complete darkness. Barret and I clung to each other, and I burrowed my face in his chest to drown out the sounds of my fast breathing.

  I could hear Otto straighten out the clothing that hung in the closet and then quietly close the closet door.

  Within moments there was more loud banging and men’s forceful voices. The sound of heavy boots echoed, and I felt myself trembling. The Gestapo were in the bedroom! The closet door had opened. If we were found hiding, we would certainly be considered guilty and arrested.

  We didn’t breathe. We didn’t move. Watcher obeyed my “hide” command, and remained silent. I could tell the police were shoving aside the clothing on the closet racks. Then the outer door slammed and the footsteps faded. I realized how protected I had been when living with Adrie. Now I was nobody—and could be questioned or treated cruelly, like anyone else. Even more reason for us to get away from Germany soon.

  50

  Inferno!

  Later that evening Otto told us, “I’ve arranged for you to leave tomorrow on a fishing trawler. This captain is willing to take you to Copenhagen, since you have German papers. However, officers on German ships search private boats, so you must be prepared to answer questions in the event that this happens. German ships patrol the waters around the Baltic Sea and Copenhagen regularly.”

  “Just take us to the boat and we’ll be on our way,” Barret said.

  “Gut! Be ready to leave early in the morning.”

  Dawn was slowly lighting up the eastern sky when we climbed into Otto’s car and headed out. We were far beyond the outskirts of Hamburg when we heard the sound of air-raid sirens. My heart sank.

  Otto pulled over to the side of the road. “I have no idea if there are shelters nearby. But we are so far out of the city, we should be all right. The U-boat pens, the ports, and the industrial section of Hamburg are the likely targets.” Otto thought for a moment, and then said, “There’s a shortcut to the little fishing village where your boat is waiting. It is a dirt road most of the way, but it is more direct to the dock where the boat is hidden.”

  I peered through the window to the overhead sky. “They’re dropping something—glittery things.”

  “It’s the foil,” Barret exclaimed. “They’re blocking German radar. The bombers are on their way. There will be hundreds of planes! We’ve got to get out of here before the bombs start falling.”

  “How far away is the boat?” I asked Otto.

  Otto stepped on the gas and we turned down a hard-packed, bumpy dirt road. “We’ll be there soon.”

  After a while, we heard the thunder of planes that now darkened the sky. Bombs began to drop like eagles diving for their prey. We could see sudden bursts of flames rising from the direction of the city.

  “They’re dropping fire bombs, too!” I cried out.

  “These are only the first group,” Barret said.

  As we approached an open area near the shore, I could see part of the Hamburg skyline. Flames had quickly shot up hundreds of feet into the air. “The wind is building up from the fires and tossing sparks and embers everywhere,” I exclaimed. “I can see trees and houses—buildings—everything is burning. The fire is spreading like a tornado all over Hamburg!”

  “Keep heading along the water, Otto,” Barret called. “Hurry.”

  We were soon in a wooded area where trees blocked the view of the city. Yet the whole sky was brilliant from the fires. After several miles, we drove through a small village.<
br />
  “The fishing boat is concealed down the footpath in a cove.” Otto pointed to a dark path almost hidden from sight. “Get your things, and I’ll take you to the boat.”

  We walked for a mile or so through the overgrown trail. Otto led the way, and I followed him. Barret held on to my backpack, and Watcher raced back and forth around us.

  “The cove is just ahead,” Otto finally said. “There!”

  We turned into the cove, where an old fishing boat was tied to a rickety dock. I stopped and asked, “Is this the boat? It is old! Is it safe?” I could not hide the dismay in my voice.

  “It’s old but serviceable with a fairly new diesel engine,” Otto replied. “It’s registered as German, so there should be no problem in Denmark.”

  I must have looked worried, because Otto went on to assure me. “Karin, it’s a seaworthy ship. I have known Captain Lichtenberg for years. He’ll take good care of you.”

  Otto helped Barret climb on board, and Watcher leaped in after him. I tossed my knapsack onto the deck and then I hopped on too.

  “Josef?” Otto yelled. “Are you here, Josef?”

  “I’m here!” a hearty voice called out, and a tall, rugged man appeared from the cabin. A younger man came up behind him.

  Otto introduced us to Captain Lichtenberg, who shook hands with us—including Watcher, who held out his paw.

  Peder Fischer, the captain’s first mate, introduced himself and laughed. “Peder Fischer—a perfect name for a fisherman.”

  The captain put his arm around Otto’s shoulders. “We don’t say ‘Sieg Heil’ around here anymore. We say, ‘Survive, my friend.’ He gestured to the black clouds of smoke over Hamburg. “This attack looks bad.”

  “Ja—so get these young people safely to Copenhagen soon.”

  “I will,” Captain Lichtenberg promised, and then turned to us. “Welcome aboard.”

  “Is it safe for us to leave now, with bombers coming?” I asked nervously.

  “I don’t think they’ll target us—we’re small and insignificant,” Captain Lichtenberg answered. “The reason for the fires is to light up Hamburg for the next group of bombers—American planes. Hopefully, they won’t pay attention to one little boat on the sea.”

  “Before we leave, I have something for you, Otto.” Reaching into my deep pocket, I pulled out the sapphire I had hidden, and dropped it into his hand. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us. And thank Ulla, too. I pray she is safe.”

  “I must get back right away.” Before leaving, Otto gave us a mock salute as he climbed onto the wharf. “Safe journey, children! I’ll let Opa know your progress.”

  Peder was now unhitching the ropes that tied the boat to the dock as Captain Lichtenberg started up the engine.

  “How long will it take to get to Copenhagen?” Barret asked over the sound.

  “It all depends on how far off course I must go to keep away from German patrol boats. I know their schedules pretty well, but one never knows, especially now, with this bombing on Hamburg. We have nothing to hide, but it would be better not to be questioned.”

  “If a naval ship should stop us, you have the proper papers,” Peder said. “But you, Karin, don’t talk too much. You have an American accent they might catch.”

  As we moved slowly out of the cove and headed to sea, I watched the distant fires and the pillars of smoke that reached into the sky. I could see the black columns twist into tornadoes that carried embers and scattered sparks, igniting even more fires.

  The planes were gone. “The next group will be coming soon to bomb,” the captain predicted. “If there’s anything left to bomb, that is.”

  Before long, the city of Hamburg was only a glow against the skyline. The salty sea, the waves, and the bitter smell of diesel fumes finally overpowered the blowing smoke of the inferno.

  51

  Threats

  Far out on the ocean the wind was strong and the waves sprayed mist over the bow. It was restful to be away from the war and bombs, although I knew ships and submarines of many nations prowled these waters.

  “I hope you don’t get seasick, Karin,” Peder said in a teasing tone.

  “After being torpedoed in a U-boat under the sea—this is nothing,” I bragged. “Have you ever been torpedoed—or under the sea in a submarine?”

  “Nein—you are a true heroine, Karin. You deserve the Iron Cross.” He winked at the captain, who laughed, and I felt a flash of annoyance.

  Barret and Watcher were huddled together on the floor underneath an old canvas tarp. I pushed myself in with them and realized they were both asleep, although Watcher woke up and moved over for me. The canvas smelled of oil and fish, but it kept out the wind, and after I settled next to Barret, I was soon asleep too.

  The drone of the engine that lulled me to sleep stopped, and I awoke. As I peeked out from under the tarp, I saw a patrol boat had pulled up and two naval officers were climbing aboard.

  What if they suspect we are runaways escaping Germany? What if Adrie sent them after me? I ducked back under the tarp, hoping I hadn’t been seen.

  One of the naval officers came over and yanked the canvas from the three of us. For a moment he stood there—tall, cold, and solemn.

  “Get up!” he ordered. “Give me your papers.”

  When Barret and I stood up, Watcher did also. I heard a low growl coming from his throat, and the fur on his back stood up. Seldom did Watcher growl at anyone. The officer frowned at my dog, and I could see him fingering the revolver on his belt.

  “Hush, Watcher,” I whispered.

  Watcher looked up at me and then sat next to my feet.

  I dug into my backpack and handed the officer the German birth certificate and ID that Opa had made for me.

  “Karin Nelson?”

  “Ja.”

  “Why are you going to Copenhagen?”

  “I am going to Copenhagen to study . . . Norse history.”

  “And you couldn’t do that in Berlin?”

  “Not as well as in Denmark.”

  “You have a strange accent. You are German?”

  “Ja.” I had to think quickly. “I had a difficult throat surgery this past spring, and . . . er . . . my voice and diction were affected. Here, I have documentation if you want to see it.”

  He did not answer; instead he rudely shoved his hand out to me.

  I showed him the health certificate Opa suggested I should bring. It recorded my quinsy throat surgery. Fortunately, the health certificate did not use my name, but only the term This Patient.

  Apparently, it satisfied the officer’s needs because he shoved the papers back at me and then turned to Barret. “You have papers? You are blind, are you? Can you find them for me?”

  “I’ll get them for you, Conrad,” I offered.

  “Nein! I asked him,” the officer snapped.

  “It’s all right, Karin,” Barret said, a warning in his voice. He stooped down and reached for his rucksack, opened the front pocket, and pulled out the papers Opa had made. He was about to hand them to the officer when a series of large waves rocked the boat, and Barret lost his balance. As he fell, the papers scattered over the deck.

  I reached to help him up, but the officer shoved me out of the way. “Let him get up himself. Who are you, his keeper?”

  “I’m his sister,” I said angrily. “And you are not a gentleman!”

  Instantly he slapped my face so hard, it knocked me to the deck. “Do not talk back to a German officer.”

  In a flash Watcher leaped at the man, his teeth bared.

  “No, Watcher!” I yelled. “Come here!”

  My dog stopped his attack and came quickly to my side. “Sit!” Watcher sat close to me, but his eyes were on the man who had slapped me. My face smarted, and my knees were bleeding from the contact with the rough deck.

  Captain Lichtenberg put his hands up in a calming gesture, and whispered something to the other officer who was questioning him. Evidently, this officer was of a higher
rank, and he shouted to the bully, “My, you are a brave one, aren’t you, Lieutenant? Picking on a blind boy and a pretty young girl?” He pointed at us. “Help them up and apologize! These are German citizens, not criminals. And the girl is right—you are not a gentleman.”

  The lieutenant’s face reddened with anger. He grabbed my arm, but I pulled away and brushed my sleeve, as if it were polluted from his touch. When I stood up, we faced each other for a few moments, and I could see retaliation in his eyes. “I will be watching for you when you arrive in Copenhagen,” he whispered.

  Barret was able to gather his papers, and he stood with them in his hand. The lieutenant grabbed them, looked them over, and then handed them back.

  “Everything is in order,” the superior officer announced. “We won’t detain you any longer.” He turned to me. “Please forgive my impulsive companion here. I will see he is reprimanded for his insolence.” The men climbed back aboard their ship. The engine started, and I could see the lieutenant still glaring at me as they backed away.

  “Will they be in Copenhagen?” I asked our captain. “That lieutenant threatened me.”

  “It may be their home base. I hope not. He did not like you, Karin. Keep in mind that you must not speak back to any Nazi officers. They are arrogant and enjoy being cruel. You just have to let them have their imagined superiority—and then laugh at them when they’re gone.”

  “The other officer took my side,” I pointed out. “He was kind.”

  “Ah, I think that captain was smitten by your beautiful face,” Peder teased.

  I felt my cheeks burn, but it was nice to have a compliment for a change.

  52

  Trouble in Copenhagen

  The next afternoon, when we pulled into a Copenhagen port authority, I was dismayed to see the same German patrol ship docked nearby.

  “Let me have your papers,” Captain Lichtenberg whispered. “We’ll get this over with quickly.”

  We gathered our things and then followed the captain and Peder up the wharf to the customs and immigration office.