Levi's War

by Julie Thomas

  The major had been very grateful for their co-operation. On their last day in London he had told them that the army would like to award Levi his George Cross posthumously, if Simon would be prepared to come back the following January and receive it on his brother’s behalf. The news had caused much rejoicing in the family. David had wondered what Feter Levi would think of such a gesture. He was pretty certain that if Levi were alive he would have told the army where they could put their medal, but he wasn’t there and Simon was adamant that his brother deserved the recognition. There was no arguing with that. It was agreed that they would all return for the medal ceremony and to see a rough cut of the documentary.

  Simon had been very tired after the trip. Cindy had tried to persuade him to come and stay with them so she could look after him and he could rest. But he was a stubborn old coot, which was why he’d survived, and he’d insisted on going home. But he’d looked exhausted when they’d Skyped with him, so David had decided to fly to New York and hire a car to drive north to Vermont.

  The trees were changing colour. It was worth the price of the rental car to see their magnificence as he listened to Daniel’s latest CD of Paganini pieces and reflected on the past few years. Their lives had been turned upside down so many times since 2008, he wasn’t sure which way was up anymore.

  When Daniel was fourteen he’d refused to play the violin because his mother had forbidden him to play his beloved baseball, and that had brought Spanish conductor Rafael Gomez and Russian billionaire Sergei Valentino into their lives, which had led to the discovery of their long-lost Guarneri del Gesú violin. Maestro Gomez had contrived a situation that forced Valentino to allow Daniel to play the Guarneri for concerts and when recording, otherwise it stayed with the Russian. On his death he would will it to Daniel.

  Then Kobi Voight had appeared one day with Maestro Gomez and some letters that had been written by David’s aunt, Rachel. Kobi been given the letters by his mother, and while he was in Berlin he’d discovered that Rachel’s biological daughter was his mother, Elizabeth Voight. That had led to the extension of David’s family, adding Elizabeth and her three children, particularly her youngest son, Kobi, who had become like a brother in many ways to David. Each crisis had added something to the rich tapestry of the Horowitz family, and now he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  He frowned as he swung into the drive. The blinds were still down. That wasn’t like Simon; he liked to let in the light as much as possible. David honked his horn once. That was usually enough to bring his dad to the front door, and in summer down the path to welcome family at the car. Nothing stirred. Maybe he was asleep.

  David got out of the car and walked to the front door. It was locked. He found the key on his key ring and unlocked it. The house was dimly lit, no lights were on. A sudden flash of alarm, with more than a little fear, ran down his spine.

  ‘Dad?’ he called out as he made his way through the neatly arranged sitting room. ‘It’s David. Are you awake?’

  There was no response. The kitchen bench was clear, dishes done and no sign of breakfast. He went to Simon’s bedroom door and knocked gently.

  ‘Dad?’ he asked again. As he turned the knob something inside of him told him what he would find. His father lay in bed, on his back, his hands by his sides under the covers and his eyes closed. David crossed quickly to the bed and put his fingers to his father’s throat. The skin was cold and there was no pulse.

  ‘Oh, Dad.’

  David sat down heavily. He was overcome by a rush of emotion, gratitude that Simon had died peacefully in his sleep and was now with his family, and grief at the loss of his much-loved father.

  ‘Baruch Dayan Ha’emet,’ he said softly. He left the room and came back with a cloth and some candles. He laid the cloth over Simon’s face, lit the candles and placed them on the bedside table close to Simon’s head. He knew he was supposed to lower the body to the floor but he couldn’t do that by himself, so he asked for forgiveness from his father. Finally, he found Simon’s prayer book and recited the Psalms, Psalm 23, verse 17 of Psalm 90, and Psalm 91 in Hebrew. Only then did he call 911 and then Cindy on his phone.

  They all gathered in Vermont. They got permission to delay the funeral long enough for Kobi to bring his mother, Elizabeth, and his sister, Lisle, from Melbourne. Elzbieta came from New York, Rafael from Washington, and Sergei from London. Friends who had known and loved Simon since he moved to the USA came as well.

  They gathered at the local Shul for a simple service that reflected Simon’s life-long commitment to his Judaism. David, Cindy and Daniel tore the clothing over their hearts to express their pain and sorrow, and then the local rabbi gave a moving eulogy.

  ‘Simon was one of those rare people who understood how precious life is. After his experience in Dachau he made a commitment to his G-d to live every moment he had left on this earth, so to honour the memory of those of his family who had perished. He was a learned, kind and wise man who loved to share his knowledge with the young people of our community. And he had a keen sense of humour — he often pointed out to me the error of my ways.’

  They walked behind the coffin to the graveside and buried him beside his brother. After they had shovelled the earth on top of the coffin, Cindy pointed out the wonderful view.

  ‘He’ll be happy here, David — look at the trees!’ she said.

  ‘I’ll miss him so much,’ Daniel said through his tears.

  ‘I know you will, but his spirit lives on in you. Every time you play he’ll be with you,’ David said.

  Daniel nodded and wiped his face with the handkerchief his mother supplied.

  They sat Shiva for seven days at Simon’s house. People came and went, brought food and comforting words. Then on the morning of the seventh day they got up from Shiva and got on with their lives.

  Elizabeth Voight inherited a half-share in the Dürer painting, while David inherited the other half. As Rachel’s only living heir, she was also left a share of the money Simon and Levi had received as part of a class action against the German government over Jewish-owned banks that were unlawfully acquired by the Third Reich. It had been established that the gold and cash in Benjamin and Mordecai Horowitz’s bank was transferred into a Swiss account in 1940.

  ‘I think we should contact Major Stratton and tell him we’ve changed our minds,’ Cindy said as she and David ate dinner in their home in Newbrick.

  ‘About what?’ David asked.

  ‘Letting the world know about Feter Levi’s sexuality. It was your father who had the objection to that. I think we should honour the fact that Feter Levi was brave enough to talk about it to camera.’

  David sat back and considered her words. ‘Tell him we think those bits should be included in the documentary,’ he said.

  She nodded. ‘Yes. It’s 2017. Such things are accepted nowadays, and it would mean Feter Levi had a right to be who he was.’

  Slowly, David nodded at her. ‘Okay, I will. I’ll call him and let him know it can be included.’

  London, January 2018

  David took Simon’s place as head of the household. It was now his responsibility to stand in for Feter Levi and receive the George Cross on his behalf.

  ‘Are you nervous?’ Cindy asked, as she brushed the shoulders of his morning suit.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, and smiled at her.

  ‘You look wonderful. Your father and your Feter would be very proud of you. I am very proud of you.’

  He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thank you.’

  The room was very red. The carpet of the Ballroom at Buckingham Palace was very red. Red with traces of gold. This thought kept going through David’s head as he stood in line and waited. Prince Charles, in his naval uniform, stood on a dais, a small step above the floor. David could feel the nerves clenching and unclenching in his stomach, and he wondered if this was what Daniel felt before a performance. In his peripheral vision he could see the others watching, waiting, and smiling. Cindy, Daniel, Kobi and
Elizabeth. It occurred to him that he and Daniel were there because of Feter Levi. In his resistance lay their existence. And at that moment he made a decision. His thought pattern was broken by the sound of his name. He walked slowly to stand in front of Prince Charles.

  It passed in something of a blur. The medal was presented to him, he exchanged a few words with the Prince about Feter Levi, shook his hand and then stepped back, bowed his head, straightened and moved on. It was a squat silver cross on a plain dark-blue ribbon. The words For Gallantry were inscribed around the circle where the four arms of the cross met, with a small relief sculpture of St George on a horse, slaying a dragon, in the middle of that circle.

  Once outside, there were photos taken and hugs exchanged, and everyone had a look at the medal.

  ‘What are you going to do with it?’ asked Kobi.

  ‘I’m not sure. Major Stratton suggested we loan it to the Imperial War Museum. They would make a glass-case display with photos of Feter Levi and a card detailing what he did. It could sit in the Holocaust exhibition section. If Dad was still alive he would take it home, but it feels wrong in a way for me to keep it.’

  ‘I disagree,’ Cindy said sharply, ‘you are his closest living relative and you should be proud to show it off.’

  David smiled at her. He knew she wanted to show it to her friends.

  ‘We’ll see,’ he said, and winked at Daniel.

  The next day they made the car journey to the National Archives once again. Major Stratton welcomed them and congratulated them on the George Cross, and offered his condolences on Simon’s passing. He led them to his office, and they took seats in the viewing room.

  The documentary was about forty minutes long. It included an establishing clip of Simon explaining how Levi came to be in London and why he was sent back to Berlin. The pieces of Levi to camera talking about Hitler, Goebbels and Himmler were very powerful. They used some stock footage of the men, and backed it with piano pieces from the repertoire Levi talked about. It was raw and real. Simon and Elzbieta spoke about their war, and Elzbieta recalled how they had come to join the partisans and her impressions of ‘Wolfie’. And they included the parts to camera where Levi spoke about Pierre and Erik von Engel and his obvious love for Erik. When it came to a close, they all applauded.

  ‘I think it is brilliant,’ Cindy said, and smiled at the major.

  ‘David?’ the major asked.

  David nodded. ‘It’s a true and honest record. I think Feter Levi would be well pleased with the way it was all handled.’

  That afternoon, before they went to a party that Sergei Valentino was throwing for them at his Mayfair mansion, David asked them all to gather in his and Cindy’s hotel room. Cindy, Daniel, Daniel’s girlfriend Melissa, Kobi and Elizabeth Voight sat and looked at him expectantly. He’d decided not to share the fact that Maestro Gomez already knew the truth he was about to impart; that wasn’t something his wife needed to know.

  ‘I’ve thought long and hard about this, and if Dad was still alive I wouldn’t even consider it. But I came to a decision while I was waiting to accept the George Cross. You all deserve to know the truth, especially you, Daniel.’

  ‘The truth about what?’ Cindy asked. David could see the concern in her eyes. He waited a few seconds, and then drew in a deep breath.

  ‘When I was in my twenties Mom told me something. I promised I’d keep it to myself, and to date I have. She’d seen a programme about someone needing blood or bone marrow, something like that, from their closest family relative and in case it ever happened to us, she wanted me to know. I don’t think Dad or Feter Levi knew, but I can’t be sure.’

  He paused and looked around the circle of faces. ‘Feter Levi was my biological father.’

  ‘I knew it!’ Cindy sprang to her feet. ‘I’ve always wondered, because you were so alike. But then you were like your grandmother, too.’

  ‘She had tried for years to have a child, and nothing happened,’ David continued. ‘My father refused to accept that there could be anything wrong, and told her that if it was G-d’s will for them to have children, then it would happen. But one night, when my father was in hospital because of his stomach complaints, Levi opened a bottle of wine and he and Mum drank it all. She opened a second, and eventually asked Feter Levi to dance with her. One thing led to another and she seduced him, on the sofa. When he woke up the next morning he was confused and embarrassed, but she assured him that whatever he thought had taken place was just a sweet and flattering dream of his and nothing untoward had happened. He agreed never to speak of it again.

  ‘Six weeks later she discovered she was pregnant. Her husband had only been in hospital for a few days, and she had made sure they had sex several times over the week after his homecoming. As soon as I was born she knew whose son I was. At least that’s what she told me. They didn’t have the exact medical science they have nowadays, so Simon never suspected anything. If he did wonder, he never voiced it in my hearing.’

  There was a silence, as if none of the others knew what to say. David looked at Daniel. He was very pale and his dark eyes were huge, but he said nothing.

  ‘How does that make you feel, son?’ David asked.

  Daniel shrugged. ‘Does it really matter?’ he asked.

  David shook his head. ‘Not in the least. Poppa was your poppa and he always will be. You were the light of his life, and that will never change.’

  ‘How about you?’ Kobi asked, looking at David, ‘Did it change anything for you?’

  ‘No. I grew up living with both men, and they both fathered me in different ways. But it means that Levi left more than just the memories of his war years and his life afterwards. He left us.’

  Kobi stood up. ‘If we are talking about honouring Feter Levi, there’s something I would like to tell you. Mum knows, but I’ve never said it out loud to you, my Horowitz family. I am, as Feter Levi was, gay. And proud to be so.’

  David smiled at him. ‘I have to say it comes as no surprise, but I’m glad you’ve told us,’ he said.

  Cindy hugged Kobi. ‘That was brave, thank you for sharing,’ she said.

  ‘So, I also have someone I want you all to meet. I’m going to text him and ask him to come to the party. His name is George Ross, and I love him. I met him in Berlin in 2014, and then reconnected with him when we were here last year. I think you’ll like him.’

  ‘Oh, Kobi, that’s wonderful,’ Cindy said.

  David gave his cousin a nod of approval, and Kobi pulled out his phone.

  ‘I told you it would be fine,’ George Ross said, as he and Kobi sat sipping wine in the rooftop hotel bar. ‘They’re people who know what it’s like to be different, they don’t judge.’

  Kobi nodded. ‘But you never know what will happen when it becomes personal. People can be as liberal as the day is long when it’s concerning generalities, bring it back to their own family and that’s a different matter.’

  ‘True. But they said it wasn’t exactly a surprise.’

  Kobi stood at the window and looked out at the view. The sun was setting, and the rooftops of London were tinged with an orange glow.

  ‘I just wish I’d told Feter Levi,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Told him what? That you were confused and couldn’t accept that you could let a vital part of your identity out into the world?’

  Kobi turned and looked at him. ‘Maybe if I’d known about him and he’d shared with me about Erik it would have helped.’

  George shrugged. ‘Maybe, or maybe you just weren’t ready.’

  Two floors down, Daniel was doing finger exercises on his practice violin and watching his girlfriend, Melissa, get dressed. She was five months’ pregnant with their first child and her bump was showing. He loved the way she stopped and touched her belly sometimes when she thought he wasn’t watching. A moment between mother and unborn child. They’d been together for a year and the pregnancy wasn’t planned, but they’d come to accept it as a gift.

  ‘Come
here,’ he said gently and laid the violin down on the bed. She smiled and walked over to him. The dress she was wearing was a royal blue, layered and floaty, and the colour enhanced her eyes.

  ‘Tonight’s special, isn’t it?’ she asked.

  He took her hands in his and stood up. ‘It’s the first time I’ve played in public without Poppa here. I need to do him proud.’

  ‘You will.’

  He kissed her. ‘Thank you for coming to London with me, I know travelling tires —’

  ‘No, I’m fine. But you haven’t said anything about how you’re feeling. What your dad said. Does it matter?’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t process it. So much has happened since we first got the phone call to come and see the film. Poppa will always be Poppa, but I did love Feter Levi and he understood what music means to me.’

  ‘If the baby’s a boy, do you still want to call him Simon?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course. Simon Levi Horowitz. The next generation.’