“Where? Is that close by?” Katherina was quick with more questions. “There’re lots of railroad engineers all along this new route. Why you? And where is this Tabora?”
He took her hands into his.
“It’s in Africa, German East Africa—at our colony there. It’s the only rail line that connects the eastern and western parts of the country. It needs to be rebuilt right away.”
“Africa! You’re going to Africa? From here?” Katherina was visibly upset.
“But why you? There must be somebody in the whole of Africa who can fix the bridge!”
“I’m sorry, darling. I really don’t have any choice. I don’t want to go either, but I’m an officer in army engineers.” He turned his hands up in an expression of hopelessness. “I’ve been told that the job could be done in a month.”
“Africa!” Katherina was looking off in the void, her mind racing at the implications of this news.
“When do you leave? And how do you get to East Africa from Baghdad?”
“My commander is still working that out, but he wants me to leave as soon as possible … in a few days I suspect.” Levi could see a tear forming in the corner of Katherina’s eye. It finally spilled over and trickled down her cheek.
“I don’t want you to go,” she said softly, holding his hands tightly.
“I don’t want to go either. It will only be for a month or so, and I suspect I’ll be shipped directly home from there for my discharge. I’m really going to miss our little get-togethers here, my love.” He kissed her hands and reminded her, “You have your work here, and we’ll both be home before the snow falls.”
She looked at him with a sorrowful expression and almost whined, “But that’s months away.”
“Yes, I know.” They both sat there in silence for a long time. Finally, he said, “Let’s go to the hotel, shall we?”
Katherina stayed on in Baghdad until Levi’s orders came down with his transit plans. She had telegraphed Professor Schellenberger of the situation and indicated she would return shortly to the dig. Levi turned over to others his workload on the Berlin to Baghdad Railway and was free to spend his last few days in Baghdad with his wife.
They lay under a thin sheet in the canopied bed after making love in Levi’s spacious hotel room. The two had whiled away their time together, browsing the stalls and open-air markets that had served the locals for perhaps three thousand years. Now on the eve of Levi’s departure, both just wanted to be alone together.
Both felt an uneasiness in Levi’s unexpected assignment in far-off Africa. At least in Baghdad, one could now take the train almost all the way to Berlin. It didn’t seem so far from home.
“You’ll be going home in less than a month, my love,” Levi murmured. “Give Rebecca a big kiss from her papa.” The thought brought smiles.
“Of course, dearest.” She turned in to him, to his nude body, and slid her leg over, covering his abdomen.
With his arm around her neck, he pulled her lips to his, as he continued, “She’s growing every day … she is a little miracle, isn’t she? I do so look forward to the three of us being together again in a month or so.” Levi was randomly stroking her shoulder and back.
“I’ve enjoyed this time in Baghdad. What an exotic city—it actually reminds me of some places in China—the open air markets, the smells, the chattering in foreign tongues. But I’m very ready to go home.” He exhaled heavily.
“One more project and it’s back to civilian life!”
“Yes, darling, it’s what I most want too,” Katherina whispered as they both drifted off to sleep and to their separate dreams.
“June fifteenth, my departure date for home! It’s coming up, and I do have a lot to do at the dig,” Katherina said as Levi watched her get dressed. She only had on a sheer slip, and as she moved around their bedroom, he could see her body dip and sway. The baby had not affected her figure at all as far as Levi was concerned. She stirred him every time he saw her like this.
“Dr. Schellenberger is staying on for a few weeks to lecture at the university here,” she said casually, “and at the invitation of the Sultan, no less. He’s very happy about it.” She turned around.
“And what are you staring at, sir?” She had a big smile on her face. “Or more importantly, what are you thinking about?” She gave her body a little shake, knowing her breasts would move and bounce. They both started laughing.
“Come here, you!” he said in exaggerated boldness. “We’re in Baghdad, so you have to be my harem slave girl!”
“Oh, really, mister Grand Poobah?” She came by the bed, and he reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the bed. His hands slid up under her slip.
“Now I’ve gotcha!” And they rolled over and over, laughing and kissing with mock escape attempts, until they were both aroused to a passionate pitch. She pushed him back onto his back and straddled him.
“Now I’ve got you, mister!” She pulled her slip over her head and leaned forward, kissing him. She swayed back and forth against his chest.
It was noon the next day, and his time had come to depart. She was there to see him off in front of the hotel. It was a short, sweet parting after the morning spent in each other’s arms. What needed to be said had been said. His last words to her as he stepped onto the running board of the car and adjusted his dust goggles were, “I’ll telegraph you, my love, as soon as I get to Dar-es-Salaam. Love and kisses to Rebecca.”
The German consulate in Baghdad assigned Levi a Benz automobile and driver to motor down along the Tigris River to where it flowed into the Euphrates and on to Kuwait City on the Persian Gulf.
She stood there, stoic, watching the swirl of dust form a tan cloud behind the open-air car. He turned around in his seat and waved to her as the earth cloud finally obscured their view of each other. She stayed transfixed, staring down the road and thinking how much she loved him.
German East Africa
CHAPTER 19
News from Home
The telegram arrived eight days later. It was delivered to the hotel and a messenger came out to the dig to hand it personally to Katherina. She carefully opened the yellow telegram envelope.
12 JUNE 1914. STOP. DEAR KATHERINA. STOP. ARRIVED SAFELY DAR ES SALAAM. STOP. SAW PROJECT PLANS. STOP. BIG JOB. STOP. TRAIN TO TABORA TOMORROW. STOP. HOME IN TWO MONTHS. STOP. HAVE SAFE TRIP HOME. STOP. LOVE LEVI STOP
She shaded her eyes and reread the telegram and then stuck it into her skirt pocket. She had expected the message from her husband any day as she knew the sailing schedule of the supply ship Levi was on. It sailed from Kuwait through the Persian Gulf and into the Gulf of Oman and then into the Arabian Sea. It headed South West into the Indian Ocean and passed British Oman, the Italian Colony of Somaliland, British East Africa, and finally arrived at German East Africa. His ship docked in the ancient Arab port of Dar es Salaam, an ancient trading post for ivory, exotic animals, and slaves bound for Middle Eastern depots. She was happy to have his safe arrival confirmed, as half-forgotten memories of her South Atlantic crossing and the iceberg incident came back to her with a shudder.
Back inside the staff tent at the dig site, Katherina waited for her lunch to be delivered to table by their Turkish camp cook. She had a chance to read the latest newspapers from Berlin. With the Berlin to Baghdad Railway almost complete, news and newspapers traveled long distances in just a few short days, even to the tell in Babylon.
As she skimmed various stories and assorted advertisements, including the latest summer fashions, she was enjoying the physical connection, the newspaper, to home. “Kaiser Sends First Wireless Message to President Wilson in America,” she read. It made her think of their dear friends Markus and his wife Helena in German South West Africa. I wonder if he will ever move back home, she thought. I hope they will someday.
“German Prince de Wied, Crowned King of Albania,” she read. Interesting, and what’s this? “Germany and Britain Agree to Divide Portugal’s African Possessions
.” How can they do that? As she continued to read, Professor Schellenberger entered the tent and slapped his hat against his pants, creating a cloud of dust.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that, dear Professor, there’s enough dust on our lunch already.” She smiled, and he took note of it.
“Sorry, Sorry. Ah, newspapers from home?”
“Yes, and always it’s full of triumph and tragedy. What do you make of all these articles like this one?”
She read aloud: “‘War Talk Grows: Russia to Quadruple Army,’ and this other one: Albania Threatens War with Greece.’ What does this all mean? Is it a threat to Germany?” She had put aside the paper and looked intently at her companion.
The professor sat down in a folding camp chair just as the cook brought in several platters of food, including one with thin slices of sausage swimming in a vinegar brine. Two types of bread were already on the table, caraway seed rye and dark pumpernickel, freshly baked in camp. The crock of butter had a small, domed fly screen over it. Beer poured into clear glass steins by the cook’s helper attracted the two hungry archeologists.
“Ah, ja,” he sighed, “Thank you.” He nodded to the helper. “It never ends. Here we are excavating a magnificent civilization, that even after almost three thousand years we still learn about in school: Babylon. What happened? Why is it just a pile of ruins we dig through?” He stopped a moment, lost in thought.
“War, wasn’t it? It’s always war that brings a civilization down to rubble. Well, except for a very few: Pompeii, from a volcano, or that earthquake in America a few years ago; the whole city burned up. But even those didn’t destroy a whole civilization, only cities. War is what destroys civilizations.”
“Yes, but what about Albania and Russia and Greece and all this talk of a war in Europe?” sShe stopped serving herself, still holding the bread basket.“Why could there be a war? … Or I should ask, why would there be a war? And with Germany involved? I don’t understand it!” Exasperation was evident in Katherina’s voice.
“I understand your concern. Why do neighbors fight? Why do husbands and wives fight, sometimes leading to tragedy? Oftentimes, no one remembers exactly what the disagreement was in the first place! Countries are a lot like neighbors. They become jealous or envious or fearful, and that starts it off.” He stopped to stuff a fork full of potato salad into his mouth.
“He’s good, this cook, German trained. Did you try the potato salad? Ja, the Fatherland!” Schellenberger began again, “Bismarck had the right idea in several areas years ago. He unified Germany; he was against having colonies, and he developed a powerful army. But then our Kaiser dismissed Bismarck and rushed to acquire colonies.” He took a long draft of beer and wiped his face.
“So now we need a big navy to service our colonies,” He shrugged. “You know how the British sing, ‘Hail Britannia, Britannia rules the waves’? They’ve ruled the oceans since the first Napoleon. And they don’t like anyone building a big navy because it threatens their dominance. So now the Kaiser is building a big navy.”
Schellenberger shook his head before adding, “And that’s just one little piece of the puzzle that has all of Europe on edge. I could go on, but you don’t want to hear another history lecture from me! Let’s finish our lunch so I can read the papers and have my nap.”
“I won’t interfere with your nap, Professor, if you promise to continue your ‘lecture’ at dinner!”
“You, young lady, are beginning to sound like my wife!” They both tried to laugh with their mouths full of food.
Serbian Royal Crown
CHAPTER 20
If Only a Third Crown
Captain Mathias was not as lucky in German South West Africa as his best friend’s wife, Katherina. There were no rail lines from Germany to South West Africa. When he got newspapers, they were usually a month old or more—even the British ones he occasionally got from the British Cape Colony in South Africa or even, more rarely, from the Portuguese West Africa colony to the north. Most of his news came over the wireless station in Windhoek. It was limited but current.
His big advantage: he got to read the wireless messages first as they came in. Markus was at his usual duties in the wireless building, working on a schematic for the installation of the latest vacuum tubes just delivered by ship. The duty officer came running out of the receiver room with a message, not encoded, from the War Department in Berlin. Markus sat at his desk and swiveled around in his chair at the sound of the steel-studded boots clicking rapidly on the long, wood floor.
“What do you have, Sergeant?”
“Bad news, sir.” Markus rose from the chair and reached for the type-written message.
TO: MILITARY COMMANDER, GERMAN SOUTH WEST AFRICA: 28 JUNE, 1914. STOP.
THIS AFTERNOON ARCHDUKE FRANZ FERDINAND, HEIR TO THE THRONE OF AUSTRIA-HUNGARY, AND HIS WIFE, THE DUCHESS OF HOHENBERG, IN THE CITY OF SARAJEVO, BOSNIA, BY A SERBIAN NATIONALIST. STOP. KAISER WILHELM HAS RETURNED TO BERLIN TO MONITOR THE CRISIS. STOP. EMPEROR FRANZ JOSEPH OF AUSTRIA-HUNGARY STATED THIS EVENING THERE ARE INDICATIONS THE ASSASSINS ARE PART OF A POLITICAL CONSPIRACY ORGANIZED BY SERBIA. STOP. IMPLEMENT ORDER NUMBER 1177. STOP. SIGNED, GENERAL, CHIEF OF STAFF, BERLIN
“Sergeant, take this immediately to the commander,” Markus urged as he literally pushed the message into the hand of the duty officer. “That will be all.” The sergeant saluted and left the room as Markus slumped back into his chair, his mind racing.
Those Austrians! They should have given the Serbs a third crown! The Austro-Hungary Empire already has two crowns; what’s one more? They talked about it, about offering Serbia a crown, a kingdom, within the empire. It probably would have relieved the anger of the Slavs, their feelings of being discriminated against. Now we have this assassination! Damn fools, they should have given them the crown!
Imperial Austro-Hungarian Crest
CHAPTER 21
Meanwhile at Kalvarianhof
Katherina arrived back in Berlin on June 23 and visited her parents and brothers in Potsdam for three days before taking the overnight train to Munich and then the local out to the village. Otto, Freidl, Ilsa, with Rebecca in her arms, and Willie were waiting at the little train station. Willie had learned to operate the Benz and drove for the elderly couple, since Otto’s eyesight was in decline.
“Oh, how wonderful it is to be home again!” Katherina bubbled while nuzzling her baby. “How you have grown!” she purred. “I have so much to tell you all. It was a wonderful dig. We found some very interesting artifacts. Levi should be back to Baghdad from Africa in a few weeks … or a month at most. Everything has been so hectic.”
“Ja and you can sleep in your own bed again!” Freidl offered warmly, to the amusement of all. Willie took the suitcases and loaded them into the Benz.
“It’s good to see you again, Willie. How is everything at the farm?”
“Very good, Frau Katherina. Everything is going well at Kalvarianhof.”
“Oh, Willie. There are several big crates from Levi to be picked up on the loading dock. But you’ll need one of the farm wagons.”
“I’ll do that right after I get you home.”
Freidl had the cook prepare a lovely lunch with fresh spring flowers that Otto and Willie had picked that morning on the table. Katherina spent the afternoon luxuriating with little Rebecca and the family. Anji and Markus’s mother were invited for dinner and to stay the night.
It was a wonderful evening for the two families, almost like old times. It would be one of the last evenings, for years to come, of pure joy and happiness for them, unencumbered by the intrusions of an unknown, harsh, and deadly world.
The afternoon of June 28 was mild and sunny. The Mathias women sat in the parlor, enjoying late afternoon coffee and cake with Freidl, Katherina, Rebecca, and Otto. They were preparing to leave for the station and home when Otto got up from his comfortable seat to answer the telephone.
“Hello, hello. Ja. Fritz. Hello. What? Mein Gott. No! When? Both of them? Mei
n Gott! This is very bad news … Fritz, Fritz, are you sure?”
The five women could not help overhearing Otto’s agitated conversation. Freidl and Katherina got up from the couch and moved toward the front entry hall where Otto had slumped into the chair next to the telephone.
“What? What is it?” Freidl had her hand on her throat. “Is it Levi? What’s happened?” She reached for his arm. “Otto, what’s happened?”
“Fritz, hang on for a moment,” Otto said as he met his wife’s questions.
Otto looked up at his wife and exclaimed, “The Arch Duke of Austria and his wife have been shot!”
Obvious relief appeared on Freidl’s face. “Who? Which duke and his wife? What happened, Otto?” Otto put his hand over the telephone mouthpiece, “I’ll tell you in a moment. Fritz, I must go now, but thanks for letting me know—ja, ja. Auf wiedersehen.”
By this time Ilsa, Anji, and her mother had joined the group in the hallway.
“Mein Gott—” Otto began, looking up at the ladies. “The Archduke and his wife, Sophie—she’s from Hohenberg—were assassinated this afternoon. He’s the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne! Somewhere in Bosnia, I think he said. Let’s go back to the parlor.”
Freidl was thoughtful for a moment. “Oh, that poor man, Franz Joseph. To lose his son … you know he’s quite an old man now. Otto, how long has he been on the Austrian throne?” Freidl asked.
“Oh, for decades and decades,” he responded, dismissing the importance of the question. “The serious issue, besides these two ghastly murders, is what will the Austrians do in retaliation for this crime?”
“Who would do such a thing?” Frau Mathias asked. All were looking one to another.
Anji spoke up, “Mama, I’ve read in the papers how the Slavic peoples in the Austro-Hungarian Empire have been agitating for fair treatment, and they are really frustrated by the lack of any relief. I read that Serbia is frightfully angry at the Austrian Empire. I would not be surprised if Serbs were behind this in some way.”
The Storm That Shook the World Page 10