by Julie Thomas
‘The Italian maid he referred to was our younger sister, Rachel, a German Jew posing as an Italian Catholic and hiding in plain sight. And that man he met, Hauptmann Harro Schulze-Boysen, was the father of my sister’s child, Kobi’s maternal grandfather. If Levi had made it to dinner at their house, he would have found her and perhaps he could have rescued her and her baby. Her daughter, Elizabeth, was being looked after by a Lutheran couple on a farm outside Berlin.’
Major Stratton was shocked. ‘The Harro Schulze-Boysen of the Red Orchestra? He’s a hero in modern-day Germany,’ he said.
Simon nodded, surprised by the comment. ‘Obviously he and Levi never had the chance to really talk.’
‘It appears that the men spying for the Russians and the Americans had no contact with those who were there for the British. That seems incomprehensible today,’ Stratton added.
‘And maybe the girl Levi saw on the bicycle the night he murdered Rolf was Rachel; we will never know. I’ve read the letters she left to her daughter, and she said that she did ride a bicycle around Berlin. Part of her role was to post anti-Nazi flyers, and she was a skilled artist so she copied and forged documents. She was arrested with the rest of them in 1942, but when the Gestapo learned that she was really a Jew, she was sent to Auschwitz. My mother died there, too. I was in Dachau from 1939 to 1945 and I played the violin. In August 1943, when Erik escaped, my father was still alive and we held regular “concerts”, if you could call them that. We played for officers in their mess. Who knows? Maybe we played a part in Erik’s escape, maybe not. We certainly weren’t the only musicians forced to play for the Nazis.’
‘When I told you all about Schulze-Boysen and what I’d discovered in Berlin about the Red Orchestra, Feter Levi said nothing,’ Kobi said thoughtfully.
‘He may not have remembered the name, but even if he knew he’d met the man, how could he tell us without revealing everything?’ David said.
‘Once we all knew that Rachel was their “Italian’ maid”, he must have realised that he could have saved her. That would have caused him pain, pain he didn’t share,’ Simon reflected, almost to himself. He sighed deeply.
Cindy squeezed his hand. ‘You look tired, Poppa.’
‘It’s such a lot to take in. Everything is so different from the Levi I knew. Why didn’t he tell me?’
The last question was directed at Major Stratton, who shrugged. ‘I can’t answer that, Mr Horowitz. But I can guess. Maybe he was ashamed of the fact that he had worn the uniform. Maybe he felt that you wouldn’t understand why he had to kill Rolf, why he had to save Hitler. Maybe he was afraid that it would ruin your relationship, that you would disown him,’ he said.
Simon shook his head. ‘Never,’ he muttered.
‘He threw himself in front of Hitler and took a bullet and he never told us.’ David was still digesting the information, and his voice reflected his conflict. ‘I just can’t believe my Feter did that.’
Major Stratton coughed. ‘And it is that reaction he was afraid of, I think. You must consider what would have happened had Hitler been successfully assassinated before 1945, and there were numerous attempts, believe me.’
‘Would the intelligence service have sent him into Germany had they known he was homosexual?’ Kobi asked.
Major Stratton hesitated then shook his head. ‘Possibly not, but at the time of his recruitment I think he wasn’t sure what he was. He’d had one very brief encounter. But it might have placed him at an increased risk. Imagine if he’d been the officer that Erik was arrested with — so much more at stake for Levi.’
‘Does he see Hitler again?’ David asked.
Major Stratton shook his head. ‘No. The rest of his war is fought in Italy. Hitler would have had him shot for desertion if he’d gone back to Berlin.’
‘Does Erik survive? Why didn’t he tell me about him? What happened to them?’ There was a note of desperation creeping into Simon’s voice.
Cindy rubbed his arm. ‘Let’s watch the rest and maybe your questions will be answered,’ she said.
Stratton went to the laptop. ‘Yes, some of the answers will become obvious,’ he said, ‘others you will have to work out for yourselves.’
He hit the button and the figure of Levi came to life on the screen again.
Munich, July 1943
Levi said nothing of their plans to Karl and Elsa. That night, as they enjoyed dinner together, he told them about his life in Berlin and his time at the Berghof. He was careful not to mention Himmler, as it was clear that both blamed him for Erik’s imprisonment. Levi was impressed by Karl.
‘Your visit has been a real bonus for Erik,’ Karl said as he watched Levi eat.
‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to see him, sir.’ Levi smiled as he glanced at the older man. ‘I had given up all hope of seeing him again.’
Across from him he saw a shudder go through Elsa, but she kept her eyes on her plate. ‘So had we,’ she said quietly.
‘I won’t lie to you, I find his sexuality hard to understand,’ said Karl.
Elsa raised her gaze in response to her husband’s words. ‘But it is his business, not the state’s,’ she said, and anger flared in her eyes.
Karl nodded and Levi could see tenderness in his expression. ‘Indeed, I agree. He’s my son and I love him. If I felt shame, I don’t anymore.’
Levi chose his words carefully, he wanted Karl to know he was impressed by his attitude, but didn’t want to give any indication of the nature of his relationship with Erik. ‘He is lucky to have you as a father, sir.’
Karl shook his head. ‘That’s as may be. I did what I could to rescue him and I want him to be healthy and to live.’
Elsa looked up, and Levi could see unshed tears in her eyes. ‘Which is more than those brutes at the camp wanted. I detest them and everything they stand for!’
Karl put his hand on her arm. ‘I know how you feel, but they are not representative of the whole Reich. I don’t believe that behaviour is systemic. And neither do you.’
There was a distinct warning in his tone. Levi heard it as clearly as she did. After a moment’s hesitation she brushed the tears away and smiled at her husband.
‘Of course not, darling, the Führer would be horrified if he knew.’
Levi wondered how Elsa had coped with the Erik he used to know in Berlin, the proud SS-Hauptsturmführer who had been part of the death squads in Poland.
‘How old was Erik when you married?’ Levi asked.
Elsa smiled. ‘Fifteen. He was a beautiful teenager, a truly good person and had such a sweet nature. The Erik I knew then, he’s back with us. Those dreadful men —’
Karl raised his hand. ‘Enough, Elsa! Werner can see the change for himself.’
Elsa glanced over Levi’s shoulder, and when he turned to follow her gaze he saw a framed photographic portrait of the Führer on the dining room wall. Nothing more was said, but it was enough to remind him that he needed to continue with the role of Hauptmann Werner Schneider for the time being at least.
Something in Elsa’s expression told him she was wondering about his relationship with Erik. Had they been lovers in Berlin? How close were they now? How much did Levi share Erik’s dream of joining the resistance? He was very tempted to confide in her, but loyalties ran deep, and he suspected that Elsa’s first was to her husband, and his first might even now be to the Fatherland.
He slept badly, spending hours awake planning the next day. It was safer for him to stay in uniform, at least until they reached the Italian border. Erik could be his charge, a dumb and deaf young man, under the protection of Hauptmann Schneider. That way if, by the greatest of bad luck, they were questioned, his papers and his reputation might get them through.
The next day he put on his uniform and caught the bus into Munich. He visited the Deutsche Reichsbank. He withdrew all but a few of the reichsmarks he had been carefully squirrelling away each pay day, in thousand reichsmark notes. Then he purchased a duffel bag with stri
ngs that allowed him to carry it on his back, and two sets of clothing, including two heavy woollen coats. Erik was slightly shorter than Levi but much thinner and he knew he would need a good strong belt for Erik’s trousers until his waist filled out. Lastly he bought two pairs of strong hiking boots, a map of Italy and some food, cheese, sausage and fruit. No one questioned him, but he felt it safer to explain to the shop assistants that he and a friend were planning a hiking trip during their leave from the Luftwaffe. He knew such things went on despite the war and the government encouraged those who could spend money to do so.
He went straight from the bus to the barn, showed his loot to Erik and then hid it in the hay. As evening fell he took a bath, put on his uniform, slid his suitcase under his bed, and took the few possessions he had brought with him and slipped out of the house.
Elsa and Karl were in the parlour listening to the radio. He desperately wanted Erik to be able to say goodbye to his parents, but it was too dangerous. He’d reassured Erik that one day he’d be able to return to his life and those he loved.
Erik was waiting for him, dressed in the clothes and boots Levi had bought that day, with the food and map in the duffel bag. Levi added his clothing and two bottles of water, then Erik helped him put the bag across his shoulders.
‘Is it heavy?’ Erik asked.
Levi could hear the anxiety in his voice. He shook his head. ‘It’s fine,’ he said.
‘To the railway station?’ Erik asked. Levi looked at him. He was still underweight, but a good deal of strength had returned to his wiry body, his face was alive and his eyes were sparkling.
‘To the railway station. It’s about an hour’s walk,’ Levi answered. They would get a train to Kufstein on the German–Austrian border. That way anyone tracing them would not know their final destination. From Kufstein they would get a train to Innsbruck.
The walk took longer than they had anticipated, so they had to sleep on a bench at the station until the first morning train to Kufstein. Levi didn’t share his apprehension with Erik, but he couldn’t help checking to his right and left every few moments. Erik slept but Levi kept watch, telling himself regularly that with each hour that passed they were closer to freedom. If Karl had risen early and gone out to see his son, he would have discovered him gone. Logic would tell him to try the train station first, and he would be hard to convince. During the early hours before dawn Levi rose and paced the platform, silently willing the time to pass. His relief when the train eventually arrived was palpable, and he hid it by hurrying Erik into the carriage.
Just before the border, the train was stopped and boarded by German soldiers. Levi had anticipated this and was ready when they reached the carriage where he and Erik were sitting alone. Two young soldiers thrust open the door and snapped to attention.
‘Heil Hitler, Hauptmann,’ they said in unison.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew his papers. ‘Heil Hitler. How goes your war?’
They both hesitated. Levi outranked them and he could see they were anxious not to offend him. ‘Very well, thank you, Hauptmann. I’m sorry to ask you, sir, but can we see your papers?’ one asked, his nervousness revealed in his high-pitched voice.
‘Of course.’
Levi handed them over, and the soldiers consulted them together.
‘Thank you, sir.’ The one who’d asked handed them back. ‘And who is this?’ He was pointing at Erik, who gave him the best toothless grin he could muster.
‘This is a deaf mute. I’m delivering him to Innsbruck. He is a relative of an Austrian naval officer and I am charged to look after him.’
The soldier hesitated.
‘Is there a problem, soldier?’ Levi asked as he started to rise to his feet.
‘No. No sir, that is all in order. Enjoy your journey.’
The men looked at each other and one pulled the door shut again. Erik let out a huge sigh, and Levi put his finger to his lips to remind Erik to say nothing. They exchanged a knowing smile, and Erik went back to his book.
In Kufstein, Levi took two rooms at a local inn and they rested until evening. At a restaurant close to the station they ate a beef broth, a rich stew and some strudel. Erik’s lack of teeth slowed his progress through the stew and meant he cut the strudel into tiny pieces. The waiting staff looked upon Levi’s uniform with distaste and he longed to tell them the truth, but when Levi explained that Erik was a deaf mute they made up a parcel of pancakes with cherry jam and sugar for him. He gave them his toothless beam and nodded his delight.
From Kufstein they travelled on to Innsbruck, less than an hour away. It was night, and Levi decided to press on by taking the last train of the day to the Brenner Pass. It was a small village on the border between Germany and Italy. They got off the train there, and Erik kept guard outside the deserted men’s room at the station while Levi changed out of his uniform.
Just outside the village they found a field that bordered onto a wood. It was wild and overgrown and seemed to belong to the whole town. Wrapped in their heavy coats they slept in the grass until morning.
‘We need wood if we’re going to burn my uniform,’ Levi said as they munched on sausage, cheese, bread and pancakes.
‘Are you better to bury it or burn it?’ Erik asked.
Levi thought about that. ‘The smoke from a fire might attract attention, but I do so want to burn it!’
Erik smiled at him. ‘I want to see it burn. If we stay close by and douse the fire as soon as everything is burnt, it should be fine,’ he said.
So they gathered pine branches and leaves from the floor of the copse and put Levi’s papers in the pocket of his uniform, before dousing it with a small bottle of methylated spirits he’d taken from the barn, and laying it on the pile. He held the lit match to a dead and withered branch, and it burst into flame.
‘It’s a funeral pyre for Werner Schneider!’ Erik laughed as he took Levi’s hand in his and they watched the blaze lick at, and then consume, the clothing. It felt cathartic on more levels than Erik could begin to understand, Levi thought to himself.
‘Long live Levi Horowitz, resistance fighter!’ Erik added.
Levi shook his head. ‘I’ve been thinking about that. We need new names. Battle names. If we’re taken by the enemy we have a name to give them that isn’t our real name. Our accents will betray us as German, but our Italian is good enough to get by. And we need less intimidating names. You sound like German aristocracy, which is exactly what you are, and I sound Jewish, which is what I am.’
‘What do you suggest?’ Erik asked.
‘When I was young my brother and I had nicknames for each other. I was called Wolfgang Bach and he was Amadeus Bite. So I thought I could be Wolfgang Bach and you could be Ludwig Offenbach.’
Eric roared with laughter. ‘I don’t remember you being so funny. So just when I’m getting used to calling you Levi, I now have to call you Wolfgang.’
Levi laughed. ‘No, you call me Wolfie.’
‘How appropriate, hungry like a wolf.’ Erik smiled.
‘We need water from that stream to put this fire out before the whole village turns out to see what’s burning. Come on, move that scrawny behind of yours and help me!’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Northern Italy
August 1943
The next day Levi changed what was left of his reichsmarks into Italian lira and they split it between them, in case they became separated. They moved at night and slept in the fields by day, keeping out of the way of people, buying what food they needed in villages as they passed. Levi watched Erik closely, and if he felt his companion needed to rest, he called a halt and they found somewhere to sleep for the rest of the night. They saw very few German troops for the first few days and were easily able to avoid them, but suddenly, as they reached the outskirts of the town of Trento, the Germans, in panzers and trucks and on foot, were pouring in from the north.
‘What shall we do?’ Erik asked softly as they lay in a ditch and list
ened to row after row of their countrymen pass by on the road. ‘It’s obvious they’ve invaded Italy. What chance will a resistance group have now?’
Levi shook his head. ‘We said we were going to find a group of partisans willing to let us join,’ he answered. ‘Even more reason if their country has been occupied. They’ll switch from fighting the fascists to fighting the Germans. Do we stop here or do we go further south?’
‘What kind of target do partisans attack? A railroad, let’s find a railroad and follow it,’ Erik suggested.
Levi nodded. ‘We need to skirt around the town to find the railyard.’
Three nights later they were using the treeline for cover and crossing fields that bordered the railroad south. Sudden movement to his right caught Levi’s eye, and he signalled to Erik to stop and drop down into the shadows.
‘They’re laying explosives,’ he whispered.
A group of figures, barely visible in the moonlight, were crouched by the side of the track. Levi motioned to Erik and they crept closer.
When their work was, apparently, done, the group picked up their rifles and ran back towards the trees. Once they were out of sight, Levi went to the track and examined their handiwork. Simple explosives were nestled snuggly under the sleepers in six different places, with wires trailing off towards the long grass a few feet from the track. Levi picked up a wire and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. It was a fuse.
‘Put it down,’ a harsh voice said in Italian, and he felt the click of a gun near his head.
‘Don’t shoot, I want to join the partisans. Fight the Germans. I’ve been looking for you,’ he said urgently.
Erik emerged out of the grass and came to stand beside Levi.
‘We don’t want to stop you, we want to help,’ Erik said.
The man holding the gun swung it from one to the other. ‘Who are you?’ he asked, his voice full of suspicion.
‘Who are you?’ Levi countered.
‘I’m the one with the gun. Start talking.’