A Bitter Rain

by James D. Shipman

  Erik was shocked. Karl had never spoken to him like this. “My honor will not allow me to keep silent on this, sir.”

  Gunther chimed in. “Your honor will get you killed and maybe your family as well. I made some calls on Karl’s behalf. The SS is well aware of what Sauer did. Just like you, he’s a decorated hero. They have no interest in punishing him, and they want the situation to go away. By bringing this up, you’ve become a bit of an embarrassment for them.”

  “What?” demanded Erik. “How can that be?”

  “That’s not the worst of it,” said Karl. “Sauer is furious. He’s demanding your arrest for insubordination, cowardice, and failure to follow orders.”

  “Let him try me,” said Erik, his blood up. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Cowardice? How dare he! He knows the truth.”

  “You think the truth will save you?” asked Karl. “How naïve. I thought you might be right for our office, but I was clearly mistaken. I have nothing here for you; that is obvious now. But for your wife’s sake, let me give you a little advice that might save your life: you need to put away your romantic notions of the past. This is a new world, a new order. The party is the future. Germany will do whatever it takes to earn our rightful place in Europe. In this new world, there is no place for sentimentality and weakness.

  “I’ve intervened on your behalf. Captain Sauer and I had a long talk about you. I assured him that I could make you understand. I put my own reputation on the line to save you.” He glared at Erik. “Don’t make me a fool. This is the last time I will step in on your behalf, and you had better take advantage of the gift I just gave you.

  “Captain Sauer has agreed to drop his case against you. He will let you serve beneath him as a platoon leader at your current rank, but you must commit yourself to follow all his orders without question and without hesitation. If you fail to do so, make no mistake, you will be prosecuted to the full authority of military justice. At that point, there will be nothing anyone else can do for you. Even me. Do you understand?”

  Erik nodded, stunned. He didn’t know what else to say. He could hear Gunther chuckling quietly to himself.

  Karl exhaled deeply as if in relief. His voice softened slightly. “Gut. I hate to say those things to you, Erik. But I do so for your own good. You’re a decorated officer of the SS. Act like one. You’re dismissed,” he said, waving his hand. Neither of the men looked up or saluted.

  Erik rose and stalked out of the office, his mind a whirlwind. What kind of a world did he live in? Sauer wasn’t punished but instead had been promoted and decorated? Erik was the one in trouble? If he spoke out again, it would be the end of his career, perhaps worse. He stumbled home in a daze. One thought echoed in his mind over and over: What has happened to mein Deutschland?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Königsberg

  May 1940

  Trude stayed up through the dawn and into the morning. Through a slit in the drapes she watched one leather-shrouded monster after another tromp through the front yard, searching for her. Frau Werner sat on a sofa nearby, Britta’s head on her lap. Her daughter was asleep, blissfully unaware of the evil lurking just a few meters away.

  Trude whispered to her gray-haired savior, “You shouldn’t have taken on this danger. We will only stay here until it’s dark, then we have to leave.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the kind, child,” her neighbor responded sternly. “Your death is out there. Both of yours.”

  “You risk too much—your life.”

  “My life is my own to gamble. You don’t get to decide for me, Trude. I can’t call myself a German and let them come and take you—these worms who crawled out of the sewers and took over our country. Someone has to stand up to them.”

  “My husband thought that way, and look what happened to him.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Trude told Mrs. Werner about meeting Johannes. Of their life together, the birth of Britta, her work in the music conservatory. Then the coming of Hitler. The new racial laws that resulted in the loss of both of their jobs. The departure of their parents, the loss of their beautiful home, and the move to the middle-class town house in Sackheim. Johannes’s defiant role with the organization and her growing anxiety. Her constant pleas to secure their departure. The arrests, Gunther, his demands, his conduct, and his betrayal.

  “You are so brave,” said Frau Werner. “You are a remarkable woman. Here I was thinking I was courageous, offering you shelter, after everything you’ve gone through.”

  A sharp rap interrupted them. They froze. Mrs. Werner nodded toward the upstairs. Trude stepped over as quietly as possible, lifting Britta up. Her daughter was dead weight, almost too heavy for her to bear. She labored up the stairs, her heart racing. She reached the bedroom door and closed it just as she heard another loud banging on the door. Even with her ear to the wood, she could only make out muffled voices below. She heard a loud, demanding male voice, almost shouting, followed by Mrs. Werner’s quieter, measured responses. Her heart leaped out of her throat. She waited for the thunder of boots on the stairs. The Gestapo probably already knew she was here. Minute by minute passed, and there was a soft tapping at the door.

  “Are you in there?” whispered Mrs. Werner.

  “Ja, in here,” she responded. Frau Werner entered.

  “That was the Gestapo, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed. They are searching the neighborhood for a Jewish woman and her child. A neighbor. He told me you’ve been dealing in the black market and are wanted for questioning. Of course, I don’t believe that rubbish.”

  “Did he say anything about my husband?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I wanted to ask but, how could I?”

  Trude nodded. “You did the right thing. I just wish there was something I could do. I’m so worried about him.” The tears, held back throughout the night, finally released, and she buried her head in Frau Werner’s shoulder, sobbing.

  “Hush now. You cannot think about that right now. It will do you no good.”

  “What are we to do? We can’t stay here. I can’t use those ration cards or identification papers again. They will be looking for them. We can’t buy food, and I would never let you use yours to try to feed all of us. We would all die. We have to leave here tonight.”

  “You’re not leaving. At least for a few days. I’m going to go out and see if I can learn anything about what’s going on. I want you to stay upstairs and out of sight.”

  “There is someone you can visit. Someone who will want to help us.”

  “Who is that?”

  Trude told her about Captain Dutt. She explained her visits to his house and the help he’d provided them.

  “Where does he live?”

  Trude gave her the directions.

  “That’s too far for me to walk. I will call a cab.” Frau Werner picked up the phone, speaking to an operator and then to a cab company. They sat quietly for about a half hour, until a car arrived for her.

  “I will be gone for a few hours. Remember, stay upstairs and out of sight, and for Gott’s sake, don’t open up the door for any reason.”

  Trude nodded. Frau Werner hobbled down the stairs and out the door. Alone now with her daughter, Trude was terrified. She had heard such horror stories about what the Nazis did to prisoners, particularly the Jews. She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. It was too much for her to think about. She heard a stirring yawn. Britta twisted and turned on the bed. She looked up sleepily. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Werner’s house.”

  “Where’s Daddy?”

  She knew the question would be coming, but she still struggled to control her voice when she answered. “He’s gone away for a few days on business. I don’t want you to worry about it. He will be back with us soon.”

  “But what about last night? Why did those men attack him? What about the boat ride? We were going on a big trip.”

  “We’re going to have to wait a little while longer befo
re we do that now, dear. We will be staying with Mrs. Werner for a few days. I need to talk to her alone for a while, but before I do that, there is something you need to listen to. Do you understand?”

  Britta assumed a serious expression and she nodded.

  “We mustn’t leave the house. Also, you are not to walk in front of the windows downstairs unless the curtains are closed. Do you understand?”

  “But why, Mommy?”

  “Don’t you worry about that right now, but you must promise me.”

  Britta agreed and then told her mother she was hungry. Trude was terrified to even go downstairs. She did not know when Mrs. Werner would return. She could be gone for hours.

  She decided she would have to risk it. She opened the door a crack and peered down the stairs toward the front door. She was relieved to see that the drapes were closed in the sitting area. Gently, she made her way, trying not to make any noise. She wasn’t sure how thick the walls were with the adjoining homes.

  Step by cautious step, she lowered herself down the stairs until she reached the landing. Her heart stuttered when she noticed a slight gap in the sitting-room window curtains. She could see outside. The full morning sun was out. A car passed by on the street, then another. She couldn’t tell from her limited vantage point whether it was regular traffic or something more sinister.

  Trude made her way through the shadows to the kitchen. She opened the cupboards searching for something to eat. She felt guilty taking any food from Frau Werner. But they were starving. They hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, and they’d covered so many kilometers since then their bodies screamed for sustenance.

  The first couple of cupboards were bare, but in the next she found some rough black bread and a half-empty jar of jam. She chopped rough slabs off the loaf with a nearby knife. She started the stove and toasted a couple pieces over the burner, gently waving the bread back and forth over the flame until it was well browned on both sides. She spread a thick red coating of jam onto each piece. Trude took the food back upstairs as quietly as she could. Soon her daughter was making happy smacking sounds as she chewed away at the toast. Trude looked over, surprised to see the black-and-white wooden toy top resting on the crumpled blankets of Mrs. Werner’s bed.

  “Where did you get that?” she wondered.

  “It was in my pocket,” Britta answered, her mouth still full of bread. “I carry it with me everywhere.”

  Trude fought back tears. Johannes had made the toy for Britta with his own hands. She always seemed to have it with her, perhaps because her father was so often gone in the old days. Trude wondered again what the last year had been like for Britta, tucked away inside most of the time, no school, her father home more than ever but strangely distant. She must’ve felt the tension. They did everything they could to keep the fear away from her, but there was so much of it. They could all sense the Nazis reaching out with giant claws to clutch them.

  Britta finished her meal, looking around for more. Trude assured her that’s all there was. She had gone without, giving her daughter both slices. She daren’t take any more food without asking. She tried to ignore the knots in her stomach. Britta lay back down, still tired, begging her mother for a story. Trude told her about the old days, growing up just after the first war. The huge house, the trips all over Europe, stories of the grandparents that Britta hardly remembered any longer.

  In the late afternoon, she heard a rustling at the door. She held her breath for a moment and then heard the door open. She cracked the bedroom door a fraction and was relieved to see Frau Werner struggling up the stairs. She hobbled into the bedroom and let herself gently down on the edge of the bed, her arms shaking a little under the effort.

  “Did you see the captain?” Trude asked. Frau Werner nodded, still catching her breath.

  Trude was relieved, but she also felt terrible. She realized what a tremendous strain traveling just a few blocks must be on the elderly woman. Even with the help of the cab, the trip had clearly exhausted Frau Werner. She looked like she might pass out. She was pale, and she closed her eyes, taking another deep breath.

  “Let me get you some water,” said Trude, starting to head downstairs. Mrs. Werner motioned for her to stay.

  “I’m fine. I just needed to catch my breath. I have met with Captain Dutt. He’s quite the man, and he cares deeply for your family.”

  Trude nodded. “He’s one of the best men I’ve ever met. What did he say?”

  “He was shocked, as I’m sure you can imagine, with what transpired, although he said he was not surprised that Gunther betrayed you. He said he’d warned you all along.”

  Trude nodded. “He did, but we had no choice. Nobody else was willing to help us escape. Can he do anything for us now?”

  Mrs. Werner shook her head. “He’s not sure. He said providing a little money was one thing, interfering with police business is another. The least he could do was to make inquiries about Johannes. He said he’ll try to do everything he can, but he has to think about things. He said you would understand.”

  Trude nodded. “Anything he can do is a great relief.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything out about Johannes. Perhaps the captain can at least do that.”

  “Yes. That would be a blessing. I just wish we had our ration cards still.”

  “That’s the one good piece of news I have brought,” she said. “He told me he receives substantial allotments of food because of the size of his household and because of his status. Everyone in his household receives the ration card of a heavy industrialist worker, which means extra portions of everything. He said he would have a delivery of food brought by this evening after dark, and he would try to send more each week if he is able.”

  “Each week? What do you mean? I told you, we can’t stay here.”

  Frau Werner reached over, clamping her spindly fingers tightly around Trude’s wrist. “You have to stay here, my dear. They will kill you otherwise. Captain Dutt agrees. There is no other option.”

  “I can’t risk your life along with ours.”

  “I told you, it’s mine to risk. Besides, what can they do to an old woman like me? They wouldn’t dare.”

  They both knew that wasn’t true, but Trude accepted this greatest of gifts. She had found another German to trust. In this forest of enemies, she had found a friend. Trude felt the relief wash over her. At least they wouldn’t starve, and for the first time since she watched her husband’s arrest she felt a flicker of hope. If anybody could find out what was going on, it was Captain Dutt, and perhaps he might still find some other way to help them out. If by some miracle she could secure Johannes’s release, there was still a chance that they might escape. Until then, miraculously, she had a place to stay away from all her enemies. A tiny raft of light in an ocean of darkness.

  As the days passed, her sense of peace dwindled and her anxiety for Johannes increased exponentially. Trude knew dreadful things must be happening to her husband, but she didn’t know exactly what, or whether he was even alive. It tormented her that she couldn’t tell him that she and Britta were safe in hiding.

  Trude watched the world passing by on the street each day through the partly open curtains. Occasionally she would see a uniformed police officer or a gentleman in plain clothes walking up and down the strasse. She didn’t know if they were there for routine reasons or if they were searching for her.

  Britta grew ever surlier, denied the opportunity for even an occasional trip to the park and forced to be quiet at all hours. She was simply too young to be in such cramped, limited quarters day after day with nothing to do.

  The front bell rang, knocking Trude out of her reverie. Hot panic scorched through her. She grabbed Britta by the wrist, dragging her upstairs as quickly as she was able. Before she made it to the bedroom, she heard the door open below and the sound of muffled voices. She was surprised to hear Mrs. Werner calling out for her to come down. Had she been betrayed? She couldn’t fathom that her prote
ctor would have turned her in, but she couldn’t think of another explanation. She went down the stairs reluctantly, straining to see who was there. A young man stood near the door, not in uniform. He watched her come downstairs without saying a word. She’d never seen him before, but she felt the panic rise again. She shook her head. If it was the Gestapo, they wouldn’t have sent this wisp of a boy to come collect her. As she reached the last step he clicked his heels and introduced himself as Friedrich Mauser.

  “Who are you?” she asked tensely.

  “I’m Captain Dutt’s driver. I am here to collect you. The captain wishes to see you.”

  “Can’t he come here?”

  Friedrich shook his head rigidly. “Too risky.”

  “Can I bring my daughter?”

  “I was instructed to bring you, and only you.”

  “I can’t go without her.”

  “Nonsense,” said Frau Werner. “She’ll be just fine here with me.”

  “What if she misbehaves while I’m gone? She is so bored. I understand why, but she wants to go outside. She doesn’t understand.”

  “I can keep her under control. She listens to me.”

  Trude wasn’t sure. She hadn’t left Britta’s side since Johannes’s arrest. If something happened while she was gone, she could never forgive herself. Still, she knew the answer she needed to give. The captain was their only point of contact with the outside world, their only possible salvation. He was demanding to see her, and she must comply.

  She nodded to Mrs. Werner, thanking her with her eyes. “I’ll only be gone a little while,” she said.

  Friedrich opened the door. She followed him apprehensively into the sunshine, trying to adjust to the brightness after so many days inside. Friedrich stepped up to the black car and opened the back door for her. She sat, letting the black leather envelop her, hoping to disappear from sight as quickly as possible.

  Friedrich stepped around to the driver’s seat. He turned the key, and the car gave a stuttered cough and then erupted in ignition. They started off through the streets. The day was bright and warm. There were many cars on the street and people walking up and down the sidewalks. She looked out in wonder at the world she had left behind. A world of markets, cars, walks, friendship, and family.