The Student said, ‘Thank you very much, my lady commissioner, but I was thinking of something a little different. I don't mean to appear rude but in this instance I would much prefer to talk to your husband. My wish is a little bit of a gentleman's thing.’
She lifted her monocle to her eyes and looked at her husband who had remained silent throughout, and said: ‘Theobald, this is a case for you. A sailor with similar instincts to you, you will get on better with him than I. Please take over.’ The lady beckoned me towards her but I pushed one of the others forwards. I was not sure I would be able to talk to her and hear the end of the Student's story, and I was desperate to hear how it would pan out. Anton the sailor, whose turn it was, quickly declared: ‘I would like a venison roast with cream sauce and berry compote with fried potatoes.’ He was very loud and I moved away so that I could more easily follow the Student's conversation with the male commissioner.
The Student was aware of the fact that the others were trying to listen in and tried to speak very quietly into the man's ear – something he was bound to be used to as the owner of a pharmacy. The pharmacist listened intently with a professional mien. Then all of a sudden he must have realised that he was not at work but in fact representing the Führer and the party. He proclaimed loudly for all of us to hear: ‘I see, you would like sensual pleasure!’
Everyone laughed. The Student's patience was wearing thin and he confirmed, ‘That's right. I'm so glad we finally understand each other.’
‘Fine,’ the commissioner said, regaining his professional composure. ‘Not a problem.’ He took the telephone receiver out of his wife's ear, thereby interrupting her order of venison, and dialled a number.
‘Who are you calling, Theobald?’ she enquired, but he was not answering.
The respondent could be heard saying, ‘Vice Squad, how can I help?’ which led to further grinning in the circle. The female commissioner blushed and her colour intensified by the minute. She no longer knew where to look. ‘Excuse me,’ the man said, ‘is there another line I can use?’ and waited to be connected. His wife had given up trying to order the meal via the telephone and had handwritten the order on a slip of paper, detailing the weight of the roast and the provenance of the order, then gave the paper to the orderly.
Her husband had returned in the meantime, waddling in on his short legs, grinning at the Student. ‘Everything is being organised for the fulfilment of your wishes: the female is on her way and Office No 14 is being prepared for it.’ We all knew that this room contained a large sofa and we were all devilishly pleased for the Student. He, however, was embarrassed by the whole thing and wished he was miles away.
The lady addressed Anton again with her sweet smile, ‘Would you like your berry compote with or without sugar?’
Her husband was already occupied with the next in line, a sensible request finally and one who was satisfied with two tickets to the cinema. Two tickets, rather insensibly after all, for every day of the week and to include two viewings in a row. It took a while to reach an agreement and then they were interrupted by the telephone. There is a ‘lady’ at the gate who says she has been ordered, the watchman said, is it okay to let her in? The commissioner replied: ‘Of course, of course. Will one of the sentries lead her in, please?’
The Student cleared his throat nervously and shifted from one foot to the other. I would have liked to have lent him support but I didn't know how I could help. ‘Would you like your venison larded?’ the lady pharmacist asked Anton, after a long whispered conversation with an emissary from the kitchen.
I made my way towards the door as I was reluctant to see my friend suffering. Here I had the fright of my life as a truly horrific creature was about to enter the room accompanied by one of the sentries. She was tall, dark, very skinny with sharp knees, a long sharp nose and an unattractively lop-sided mouth that was crudely painted a deep shade of crimson. The rest of her make-up looked like she had applied it in too much of a hurry, running down the stairs without a mirror perhaps. Behind her a companion stood – a thin man in civilian clothes with a pad and paper in his unkempt hands.
‘Here is your lady, sailor boy,’ the commissioner shouted leeringly across the room. Rather than going to meet her, the Student made his way towards the counter and began to argue with the pharmacist. At the same time, his wife enquired further of Anton: ‘Would you like a beaten egg in the sauce or perhaps a spoonful or two of rum instead?’
The Student was speaking so loudly that I could understand every single word from my position at the door.
‘You owe us equal treatment,’ he reasoned. ‘I can't believe that for a simple meal, every small detail is approved, but no one asked me about my taste in women. As it happens I only like chubby blonde women with lots of dimples. This one here is dark-haired and bony.’
‘I'm sorry, sailor,’ the commissioner responded coolly. ‘How was I to guess your specific wishes in regards to the amount of fat on a woman or her hair colour? Unfortunately it is a little late now. In a kitchen it is always possible to make last-minute changes, add a little salt here or there for example, but you have ordered a woman for specific purpose, and here she is. Did you think you were a minotaur and deserved a virgin sacrifice? Oh, pardon me, I'm not sure if you understand my reference; you may not even know what a minotaur is?’
Now this was a true insult to the Student. We all knew that in his youth he had declined an academic post in ancient Greek history and culture, and this common pharmacist was trying to teach him a lesson, whose field of expertise was such that Greek sources were only looked at when searching for an exotic name to give to the latest miracle cream or newly patented hygienic rinser.
I was standing so close to the object of the debate that I felt obliged to speak to her. ‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘I am conducting research for the Office of Statistics and would like to ask you: how much is the party paying you for work this morning?’
She smiled her most seductive crooked smile, showing off her neglected teeth, and said, ‘Fifteen marks is what I am paid but the man from the paper has promised another twenty marks if I share my experiences with him. Pardon me,’ she burped loudly. All in all she seemed to be suffering a little from lack of sleep and being out and about at this time in the morning. She turned around and faced the newspaper man. ‘You always write about how the Jewish people tampered with food in the previous war, but what about what the landlords put into gluehwein these days? No one seems to take any notice.’
We were being interrupted. Now the Student made his way through the crowd, resolutely took the girl's hand and led her to Room 14. The whole mob followed with shouts of glee, only pausing once they had reached the door to the room. After only a few seconds alone in her company the Student emerged with an imprint of lipstick on his cheek, but dignified and transformed. He informed the superior who had come waddling out of his office with mock military posture, ‘I have pleasured my senses and declare myself herewith rewarded and strengthened.’
The reporter carefully took notes. The others wandered back into the commissioner's office and the Student's name was struck from the list as done. Sailor Anton was just finishing off his venison sauce and looked satisfied.
Now it was the Baron's turn. He said to me, ‘Make sure the reporter is listening’ and moved forward. The reporter was about to leave and I held his sleeve.
‘Listen,’ I said. ‘You must hear this man's epoch-making patriotic statement. You will not regret it. It deserves to be printed in bold in your paper.’
He resisted. ‘Please, you must let me go. I have ten minutes before my deadline. I will lose my job if I miss it.’
The Baron had already finished his three sentences. The man from the press had hardly listened as he was thinking of his deadline and how to escape my clutches. But my dear friend was unlucky in other respects. After his little speech the entire room erupted in laughter and ruined the effect. Once a prankster, always a prankster; even if you are holding a funeral spe
ech people expect you to be joking. As there was nothing else I could do, I let the reporter leave.
Now it was my turn. The lady waved at me. ‘Now, my dear boy, don't be shy. Come a little closer. I don't bite. On the contrary, I will help you choose a lovely reward.’
‘What about a brand new rubber dummy,’ the Baron whispered helpfully, ever the joker. I looked dreadful, pale and drawn as a result of my illness and arrest. The woman thought I was much younger than I really was. Young people who look a little ill and helpless always have good prospects with women of her type. I was not given the opportunity to make my choice. As soon as I had reached the desk the people in the room began to shout: ‘Check mate, seize the king!’ My unlucky predecessor must have made no secret of his innermost desire to play a game of chess.
‘Aha! You would like to play a game of chess,’ the male commissioner interjected and pulled out the catalogue of a toy manufacturer. No one else had chosen anything from it yet but he had brought it just in case. ‘What would you like? We have a set made of fake ivory here or one made of fake milkstone. And these sets here made of cardboard or paper are also very practical and can give much pleasure in their assembling, even if they are cheap to make.’
They really were treating me like a baby. No one was letting me – the main person in this dialogue – say a word on my own. Everyone was shouting: ‘He doesn't want a chess set – he wants to play a game of chess!’
‘With a master!’ another one said. ‘He wants to beat the world champion!’
The official asked for silence. ‘If I understand correctly, Herr Unteroffizier, you would like to play a game of chess with a master. Although this is a sensible and honourable wish, I am not sure how feasible it is in the current climate, but hold on a minute.’
The man was a magician. He managed to pull out a registry of members of the local chess club. He scanned the names: ‘Elias, struck off; Witkovski, struck off. Aha, here is one I know personally but … hmm, hmm.’ He leaned over towards me. ‘I know a man who is a truly recognised player and once one of the internationals. A nice man, very learned, only …’ Then he asked me straight out: ‘Do you mind, the man is a bit of a half-breed: out of his four grandparents, one of his grandmothers is not 100 per cent. He had been removed from the board of directors of the chess club but is still allowed to carry on as a normal member. He is meant to be one of the cleverest and most dazzling players around.’
I nearly answered, ‘that's ridiculous, why would I mind’, but I remembered Leo's words. You can get away with most things: bigamy, perjury, incest, forgery, but the one thing people will not forgive is religious tolerance or indeed philo-Semitism. My answer was a little frosty: ‘If the man can play, then why not. Perhaps you could urge him to hold back when it comes to social situations. We wouldn't want him to fraternise too much or have to shake his hands.’
The efficient commissioner already had the telephone in one hand: ‘Hello, hello. Good morning, my dear Dr Kronhelm. Or should I say good afternoon. Yes, I too regret that we have not seen each other for so long. But you know how it is: business worries and activities for the party. We sacrifice most of our days. Now, don't be silly, no one is criticising you! Having said that, I do have the perfect opportunity for you to do something for the Fatherland. We have a young sailor here. One of the U-boat XY crew. You must have heard of the rewards we are giving out. The young man would like to play chess with a master and I immediately thought of you. Now, now, that's enough now. It's not as if I'm bestowing an honorary citizenship! Yes, he is aware. I have just told him. No, he is fine with it. I will fill you in before the game. Yes, why don't you make your way over? No, don't be ridiculous. There is no need for you to bring your decorations from the previous war. Nobody is in the least bit interested. Now, now, you should be glad you are not young enough to fight in this war. You know where to find us. The home is on the north side of the quay. I'm expecting you!’
He put the telephone down and wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘I estimate that the man will be here in fifteen minutes. You have a chess board and chess pieces in the mess hall, is that right? I thought so. Everything is in order then. A game of chess can take hours, I have been informed. But that is okay, we are in the middle of a war. If you are entering a battle you cannot always say when you will finish. It is a matter of grinning and bearing it. But I don't want you to think that my duties are without dangers, on the contrary!’ None of us felt like arguing with him.
I was feeling quite peckish by now, and the rewards were starting to repeat themselves, so I took the opportunity to have some lunch. I felt a little anxious about the impending game of chess. How was I meant to play it? My predecessor had wished for this opportunity all of his life. And I was not keen at all. At best I was a mediocre player, good enough to know how the pieces moved from square to square and even how to set them up at the beginning. I was also dreading my opponent. After what I had heard on the telephone he seemed to be a bitter man with a tendency to be overly effusive. I also hated the silly business about his not being of pure blood and the role I had to play in this comedy. I could not stop myself; I was secretly hoping for a Jew in a traditional cloak with a Russian-Jewish name, long beard and side-curls. With such a partner I would know where I was from the first moment. He would look right through me with his beady eyes and help me survive this difficult situation. Perhaps he would also tell me the latest joke that was making the rounds. I was not so sure about this partner with a diluted bloodline of 1 to 2.5.
‘You’re still not eating. You need to get your strength back!’ the Student said reproachfully in passing. I was eating my soup listlessly with my mind elsewhere and it had gone cold in the meantime. I was due to go back into the hall because my partner had now arrived. His face worn and grey, features regular and striking, he looked a little like Goethe or Gerhard Hauptmann. His lips were engaged in a constant mumble. I could not help but imagine he was saying, ‘I am only three-quarters; I am only three-quarters’ to remind himself.
When the sentry brought him in the official moved towards him, shook the listless hand he was offered and whispered something in his ear. The man with the elegant brow nodded earnestly and greeted me, bowing slightly, his arms pressed firmly against his side. I nodded coolly. He said, ‘This is my first happy day in a long while. This is also the first little thing that I am able to do for my country during this war …’
‘All right, that's great,’ I interrupted. ‘I would be grateful if we could start now if that is okay with you.’
We took our seats opposite one another in the middle of the room where the improvised games table had been set up. The spectators had surrounded us in a close circle and were reverently watching the master as he took a white and a black piece in his hands and offered me his closed fists. I refused to leave the decision in the hands of fate and demanded black. I had no trouble setting up the board, remembering the order reasonably well, and I was also able to follow my opponent's actions. He nodded as if to say we were ready to proceed. One of the spectators shouted, ‘Achtung, Los! – Watch it, here goes!’ and the master made his first move.
At this I protested. ‘I would like to make the first move,’ I said.
The master looked at me despairingly. ‘But how could you, you chose black.’
On this occasion I thought it best to concede. ‘Okay fine. Have your own way, but I must say I find it a little strange that you will not allow me the first move as this game is in my honour.’
My friends mumbled discontentedly. The master was not making himself popular by showing himself to be an unyielding pedant so early on in the game. He chose to open the game with a very simple tactic of moving a pawn two forward. I replicated the move, smiled satisfied and leaned back in my chair. This was the sign the audience was waiting for. ‘Bravo, Bravo! Give it to him!’ they shouted in their support. I thought it was a bit early for applause but it went down very well and my mood improved no end.
The chess master loo
ked pained and a little nervous. ‘I'm not used to playing in such an environment.’ Now was a good opportunity to have a go at him.
‘Whatever happened to doing your bit for the Fatherland?’ I queried. ‘Did you intend to measure the atmosphere first? Do you think that this is what we sailors would do in a naval battle?’ The applause and mutterings grew louder. They appreciated my ready wit and the master apologised grudgingly.
The game progressed quickly. Only six or seven moves later he claimed check! His knight (mine were still in their base) was threatening both my king and queen. I thought long and hard about how to counter his attack, but the more I thought, the less my perspectives grew. If I saved the king, the knight would take my queen, my king would be in danger again and I would not even be in a position to punish the impudent knight for his cheeky move. I did not think the man was capable of such perfidious actions having such a noble brow.
‘Queen in check! King in check!’ My opponent was saying.
The spectators gathered around the table. They weren't holding their breath. On the contrary, there was much audible wheezing and sniffling. It was up to me to save the reputation of the entire fleet. I finally had the answer. I always thought it was a little unfair that the king could only move one square forward or to the side – no better than a pawn really. I corrected this. Why shouldn't the king move at least as far as a knight? I leapt forward with the king, took his knight and jumped back straight away because I didn't feel he was safe in his new position. Then I leant back and smiled victoriously, while the audience applauded wildly. Not one of them knew the rules of chess.
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