A Fight in Silence

by Melanie Metzenthin

  Richard drew Paula towards him. ‘How about a well-deserved cooling dip in the Baltic?’

  ‘Lovely,’ she whispered to him. ‘Otherwise, these two will have heart attacks!’

  It was a wonderful summer’s day with a cloudless, brilliant blue sky. The waters of the Baltic shimmered a beautiful shade of green that for Richard invited comparison with Paula’s eyes and yet also were so clear he could still see his feet when standing shoulder-high in the sea.

  Not even their neighbours on the beach could spoil a day like this for them, particularly as Willibald was now contenting himself with unintelligible grumbling whenever he looked over in Richard and Paula’s direction.

  Early in the afternoon a family with two children came to occupy the beach chair to Willibald’s other side. As the boys played boisterously in the sand, they destroyed much of Willibald’s castle by tumbling against it in their free-for-all.

  ‘Pesky kids!’ shrieked Willibald. ‘Can’t you keep control of your brats?’

  Willibald’s reaction had quite an impact on the father, who immediately called his sons to order and with Prussian sternness instructed them to rebuild the good gentleman’s sandcastle.

  Richard and Paula looked on in amusement at the untroubled way in which the two boys set to work, effortlessly heaping up the walls of the castle once more but struggling to put the swastikas back together. This made Willibald splutter with anger again as he explained how these ‘ham-fisted lads’ should know how to put together a presentable swastika, and then he delivered a monologue about the magnificent party that the symbol represented. The boys seemed uninterested, but their father listened intently. Willibald, delighted with this audience, cheerfully continued his little speech.

  ‘The National Socialist movement has one purpose, and that is to serve Germany and to help the German people regain their ancestral position among other peoples. The disreputable policies of previous governments has resulted in Germany becoming the plaything of foreign powers. It is time to secure Germany’s position in the world and to push forward with our foreign policy with our heads held high. The National Socialist movement is for the people, for social justice and against the sequestration of private property as preached by the communists. Our salvation lies with this social and national movement so that our children and our children’s children will not suffer the debts of Versailles and enslavement to foreign powers.’

  ‘That sounds reasonable,’ commented the father.

  ‘Yes, it’s actually a remarkable movement,’ chipped in Richard. ‘To take just one example, did you know that members of the National Socialist Party don’t greet each other with “Hello”, like normal people do, but instead fling their right arm high in the air and yell, “Heil Hitler”? This has the great advantage, of course, of ensuring that everyone knows the name of their leader. But it would be hard if he had a name with more than three syllables – suppose that someone of Polish ancestry were to become leader at some point and were called Kotowskowski?’

  ‘Polacks and their sort have no place in the movement!’ shrieked Willibald.

  ‘Ah, I see,’ said Richard very casually. ‘Well, that’s all right, then.’

  ‘You like to badmouth everything, don’t you?’ Willibald said, looking at Richard with disdain. ‘But even you will eventually understand where Germany’s salvation lies.’ He left it at that.

  ‘Thank God he didn’t finish up saying “Heil Hitler”,’ whispered Richard to Paula.

  ‘But he’s made quite an impression on the boys’ father,’ whispered Paula back. ‘And this movement’s getting more and more followers. Doesn’t it worry you?’

  Richard shook his head. ‘You’ll get a few malcontents running behind the Nazis, but they won’t become a real force in parliament in the May elections – the Social Democrats and the German People’s Party have too firm a seat in the saddle. To be honest, it’s the communists I’m more concerned about. My father’s worried they’ve got links to the Soviets.’

  ‘But they’re already unelectable,’ retorted Paula. ‘Frau Koch was telling me about some shooting that went on in the street between Nazis and communists in Hamburg, in broad daylight! We can’t vote for any of that lot!’

  ‘You’re right. And that’s why I’m not going to waste any more time today on Willibald and others like him. Shall we go in the water again?’

  ‘I’d like nothing more. I just want to watch those droplets of saltwater dripping off that beautifully formed torso of yours,’ Paula said, twinkling at him without a flicker of self-consciousness.

  ‘And I always thought that only a man could devour a woman with a single look!’

  ‘If you don’t like it, then you’d better start wearing a swimsuit like Willibald’s.’

  ‘There’s only one way to protect my body from your eyes!’ he said, taking her by the hand and leading her down the beach and into the waves.

  Chapter 10

  The uplifting memory of those heavenly summer days of August 1927 gave Richard and Paula the buoyancy to get through the cold winter. This was a tranquil period for them both, with Richard completing his thesis and Paula passing her medical preliminaries and starting the search for her doctoral supervisor. She really wanted to study for a doctorate in psychiatry but received several rejections on the grounds of her sex, because no one believed a woman capable of handling the unpredictable behaviour of the mentally ill.

  Finally, in spring 1928, she gave up the exhausting battle against the system and, as a way of showing her adaptability, decided to start her doctorate in gynaecology, although she remained determined to achieve her aims somehow. Once she was qualified, no one would be particularly interested in the subject of her doctoral research in any case. The very fact of becoming a medical doctor in her own right and not simply being a doctor’s wife should be a triumph in itself. On top of that, she loved the practical research on ‘post-partum infection’ that she was carrying out with young mothers and took pride in the immediate usefulness of her obstetrics work as she discovered and swiftly eliminated sources of infection.

  Her father felt that she had a distinct advantage over men in obstetrics and gynaecology and should consider making this her specialist field but Paula still cherished the dream of becoming a psychiatrist, although only her father and Richard thought her capable of it. Even Leonie considered it an unsuitable profession for a woman. She felt that constant contact with dangerous and often foul-mouthed lunatics would be quite unsuitable and advised Paula to leave it all to the men because they could physically defend themselves if the need arose.

  ‘That’s nonsense! What’s to happen to mentally ill women?’ retorted Paula. ‘Women who can’t open up to a man because they’ve had such appalling experiences and would rather be treated by a female doctor? And how come female nurses are allowed to work in asylums with male patients? They seem able to manage!’

  ‘But you’d be much more respected as a gynaecologist.’ Leonie didn’t give up easily. ‘“Mad-doctor” is not an impressive title.’

  ‘And what’s your own specialisation going to be?’ Paula said, quickly changing the subject. It pained her to discuss anything with Leonie if all she got back was the same reactionary outlook as she did from the old fossils in the faculty.

  ‘I want to work in paediatrics.’ Leonie was very clear on this point. ‘I stand a really good chance of Dr Stamm taking me on when I graduate, without having to do a full doctorate.’

  ‘A medical doctor without a PhD?’ Paula raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Why not? I’m not after an academic career – I just want to help people.’

  ‘But why children when you’ve always been so clear about never getting married?’

  ‘That’s more to do with a married woman having no rights. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want children. Who knows, maybe when the time is right, I’ll seek out the ideal father – one with all the right hereditary requirements.’ She gave Paula a meaningful wink.

  �
��That sounds rather like the political party we’re not keen on,’ commented Paula. ‘What would be the right hereditary material for you, then?’

  ‘Someone who looks like a film star. All he has to do is be thoroughly seductive. I’m the one with the brains.’

  ‘Leonie darling, you’re incorrigible!’

  ‘I know that. But are you and Richard any better, with your regular jaunts to nice little guest houses in remote places?’

  ‘We’re engaged.’

  ‘Precisely – engaged, not married. Doesn’t that mean you’re doing something sinful and forbidden?’ Leonie gave Paula a good-natured pat on the shoulder but said nothing further.

  A fresh round of elections was held on 28 May 1928, almost exactly one year after Richard and Paula’s engagement. While Paula herself and Richard’s family voted unanimously for the Social Democrats, her father had for some time been undecided between the Centre Party and Gustav Stresemann’s liberal DVP. In the end he chose the DVP, the German People’s Party, saying this meant he could continue to support Stresemann’s successful foreign policy.

  As usual, Richard’s predictions turned out to be right. The SPD won 29.8 per cent of the vote, the communists retained 10.6 per cent and Gustav Stresemann’s DVP came in with 8.7 per cent. The National Socialists disappeared into near oblivion with only 2.6 per cent of the vote and twelve seats in parliament.

  Hermann Müller became Chancellor of a grand coalition made up of Social Democrats, the German People’s Party, the Bavarian People’s Party, the German Democratic Party and the Centrists, and all the signs pointed to a decline in support for Hitler, much to Paula and Richard’s relief.

  A few days after the election, they were studying together as usual in Paula’s room.

  ‘So how does it feel, now that you’ve nearly finished?’ Paula said, beaming at Richard.

  ‘It’s not over yet.’

  ‘But you’ve registered for your final exam today! In four months’ time you’ll be a doctor and then we can get married!’

  ‘Yes, but first I’ve got to do the compulsory six months of surgery before I can do what really matters to me. I’m dreading that.’

  ‘You won’t be on your own. Fritz will be in the operating theatre with you.’

  ‘Only if he gets down to his revision and doesn’t fail.’

  ‘You mean because he’s spending so much time with Nurse Dorothea?’

  ‘He hasn’t called her “Nurse Dorothea” for quite some time. It’s been “honey pie” and “Doro” for a while, and they’ve recently got engaged on the quiet.’

  ‘What – with no party or cake for us? And you’re telling me only now? How can we forgive your best friend something like that?’

  ‘We’ll forgive them. Fritz has just told me he’s off to the registry office tomorrow to have the banns called and wants me to be witness next month.’

  ‘Why are they in such a rush?’

  ‘Why do you think?’ Richard said, rolling his eyes. ‘Because they’ve slipped up, whereas we’ve been really careful! That’s why I’ve got two jobs coming up: witness at next month’s wedding, then godfather around the end of January.’

  ‘Oh dear, you’d think that being a medical student and a nurse they’d have been more careful. What has Fritz said in his defence?’

  ‘Nothing, but then I didn’t ask him for the detail.’

  ‘I see, so you don’t give your best friend the same treatment as your sister, then! You’re always telling her she should have taken more precautions!’

  ‘I only started saying that when she was expecting number four.’

  ‘So Fritz still has three shots before you take him to one side and stick a condom in his hand? In which case, he’d better make time to study and get fully qualified so he can feed his growing family.’

  ‘You’re pretty sharp-tongued sometimes.’

  ‘Yes, but never so much as you, my dearest,’ she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

  Smiling, he put his arms around her. ‘You’re right – sometimes I can’t keep my mouth shut either. Now tell me, isn’t your father out today?’

  ‘That’s right, and he isn’t back until tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘So how about giving Frau Koch the rest of the day off?’ He gave Paula the seductive look she could never resist.

  ‘But you’ve got to revise, Richard. You don’t want to let me down, do you?’

  ‘Oh, but I do want to revise. I was thinking of a detailed study of anatomy, with your help. You’ll dispatch Frau Koch?’ he said, grinning broadly.

  ‘Richard, you’re quite impossible,’ Paula said with a laugh. ‘You’re right, though. Frau Koch will be delighted to take the afternoon off.’

  Chapter 11

  The party to celebrate the marriage of Fritz Ellerweg and Dorothea Schwabe took place in a pretty village guest house in the stunning Altes Land area, where the apple trees were in full blossom. The couple had opted for a registry office wedding and Dorothea wore a simple yet elegant summer dress of pale yellow, while Fritz went for a cream summer suit instead of the traditional black.

  ‘I expect you wanted to keep your costs down, didn’t you?’ Richard whispered to Fritz, but the latter shook his head.

  ‘We’re both pretty pragmatic, to be honest. A church wedding would have been complicated – Doro’s family is Catholic, mine is Protestant – so we’ve opted for the registry office.’

  ‘And what’ll the baby be?’

  ‘Doro would love the child to be baptised a Catholic. I’m not the religious type, so it’s Doro who should decide, and then her family will hold a nice little church ceremony later.’

  Once the two fathers had made their speeches and the celebratory meal was over, the band struck up. Richard noticed it was the same one that had played at his and Paula’s engagement party.

  ‘I really liked their music,’ Fritz explained, ‘as well as that dance Leonie showed everyone. We must include it in the party repertoire!’

  ‘So says the man who once lamented his two left feet!’

  ‘I just underestimated my own ability.’ He winked at Leonie, who was sitting next to Dorothea. ‘Are we ready?’

  Leonie flashed a smile at Fritz, got to her feet and explained the steps for ‘Havila Nagila’ to all the guests. Her enthusiasm was catching, just as at Richard’s and Paula’s engagement party, and the wedding guests entered fully into the spirit of the dance and the music.

  As Richard drove Paula home later that evening, he said, ‘D’you know, maybe we should do something like Fritz and Dorothea – no big church occasion, just the registry office and then away for a couple of days afterwards.’

  ‘My father wouldn’t object: he’s no great churchgoer,’ replied Paula. ‘Where could we go away to?’

  ‘Three cities are tempting me: Paris, London, or Rome – you choose.’

  ‘Hmm, I’m not sure. Paris is the city of love, it’s always raining in London, and in Rome it’s always sunny. Paris or Rome. Which one’s better for you?’

  ‘We have plenty of love ourselves, so we don’t need the city to supply that. Yes, I’m wavering between the Louvre and the Sistine Chapel, but to be honest I’d prefer Rome and all its wonderful sights. And its weather, as you said.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful – I can hardly wait!’

  ‘My exam’s on 4 September, so why don’t we book the wedding for Friday 7 September and catch the train to Rome on the Saturday?’

  ‘Perfect!’

  Days where everything was perfect and went off without any major hitches had been few and far between for Richard since the death of his brother, Georg. But since he and Paula had been together, everything had felt right. This summer at Paula’s side had been heavenly, his revision had gone smoothly and he passed his final viva with top marks on 4 September. Fritz had faced his on the previous day and had also excelled. Unlike Richard, though, he was keen to get going with the compulsory six months in surgery, starting on 1 October.
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br />   On 7 September, good fortune continued to smile on them. It was as if summer wanted to make a late guest appearance for the couple, bringing exceptional sunshine and warmth as its wedding gift.

  The reception, arranged by Paula’s father, followed the civil ceremony and took place in an exclusive Harvestehude garden restaurant.

  Paula and Richard had taken their cue from Fritz’s wedding and shunned expensive outfits, something both Paula’s father and Frau Koch had happily accepted, somewhat to the bride’s surprise.

  ‘Spending a lot of money on a dress you wear only once in your life is a waste,’ agreed Frau Koch, who was usually more romantically inclined.

  Richard’s father’s behaviour was out of character, too, as he had started to find excuses not to lend his son the car. The garage key had suddenly gone missing, and when Richard asked where on earth it was, he got a terse reply about it being lost but that the locksmith had been informed. As Richard was so busy with the final preparations for his exam, he’d accepted the explanation and thought nothing more of it.

  Once all the guests had arrived, Richard’s father rose and began his speech. ‘Dear Paula, dear Richard, you know I don’t go in for a lot of words and like to get straight to the point. I wish you a marriage that is happy and blessed and that brings you everything you both seek. We want to give you the best possible start at this new and important time in your lives and have done a lot of thinking about what would give you the greatest pleasure. We all know it’s customary to give the bride and groom a dinner service and items for the house, but it’s a matter of taste and can go embarrassingly wrong. My wife and I can tell you a few stories about that! The dinner service we were given when we got married was so ugly that we kept it in case we ever had guests we didn’t want to stay for too long. I’m pleased to say we’ve never had to use this secret weapon.’

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘As parents, we’ve always seen it as our duty to protect our children, so we’ve decided to spare you both a bad choice in crockery. Instead, we’ve collected contributions from all your relatives and friends so we could give you something you’ll really enjoy – and for many years, we hope.’