A Fight in Silence

by Melanie Metzenthin

  ‘Anything I don’t get through on Monday is out of the way by then. On a Tuesday I can finish work promptly and do everything else later in the week!’

  He said this with such a twinkle in his eye that Paula marvelled at how swiftly they’d both come to terms with a situation that was truly tragic and which no one knew about apart from her father and Richard’s family. At the same time she refused to see Georg’s deafness as a terrible stroke of fate. It had seemed that way at first, but today she’d realised how many children like him led a normal life, albeit at a specially equipped school. For a moment she even glimpsed the benefits that can come from such a challenge because it would open her eyes to a completely new world, but she knew she couldn’t say that to anyone other than Richard. Neither her father nor her parents-in-law were remotely capable of seeing it that way. Of course, they would all support Georg, but their pity and sympathy would always be paramount, so it was up to her and Richard to smooth the way ahead for Georg without pity, but with all the love and care that parents can bring.

  Chapter 23

  The next few weeks were full of highs and lows for Richard. He tried to be strong and optimistic, and he had largely managed to allay the fears of his parents and father-in-law as he told them about all the possibilities for helping Georg develop. His mother, however, remained devastated by the news.

  ‘But he’ll never be able to use a telephone or listen to the radio,’ she’d said. ‘He’ll be cut off from the world.’

  ‘That’s nonsense!’ her husband said, wanting to be positive. ‘He can read the paper and write letters! Not many people have a telephone, in any case.’

  ‘Well, if those Ritters next door have already got one, you can bet that everyone else will too by the time Georg grows up.’

  ‘Then that’s how it is. At least he’ll be able to enjoy a soak in the bath without that wretched bell disturbing him the whole time. There’s always a bright side.’

  ‘Hans-Kurt – you’re incorrigible!’

  ‘I just hate moaning. The boy’ll make his own way in life. Deaf or not.’

  This made Richard smile and reminded him how similar he was to his father.

  The regular contact with Alfred Schär also helped him. In the early days of their burgeoning friendship, they had talked predominantly about speech acquisition. Schär had emphasised that it was perfectly possible for the deaf to master speech, but it was difficult for the hearing to understand them. He explained how their speech was unclear because they had no sense of how the words should sound. They could only try to imitate lip movement and create the same sounds in the larynx and pharynx.

  ‘It’s hard for them to adopt the right breathing technique too,’ explained Schär during their first telephone conversation. ‘Phonetics is a complex process, although those of us who can hear don’t realise it as we have been using it since childhood. We hear what we are saying and can modify it to sound right, something that a profoundly deaf child can’t do. They rely constantly on the response of their immediate environment. And we can see how important hearing is in the formation of speech when we look at someone with age-related hearing loss.’

  ‘But they go on speaking quite normally?’ suggested Richard.

  ‘Yes, but noticeably louder. Because they themselves no longer hear so well, they speak at a volume that enables them to hear their own voice, but do that without realising it’s happening.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Richard acknowledged. ‘I’ve often noticed that but didn’t think about the link.’

  ‘Yes, that’s because there are so many things we don’t ever consider, precisely because they’re obvious to us, which can cause quite a bit of confusion. It’s such an effort for hearing people to follow what a deaf person is saying that they’d rather have it all translated for them by someone else.’

  ‘But can the speech be understood?’

  ‘Better in some than in others. As far as your son is concerned, I have high hopes because he is still an infant. Always demand the best of him and never allow him to get away with less than that, even if he fights against it. He’ll thank you for it later because most people think that someone who can’t speak clearly is backward. This impression is often reinforced by the fact that those who have grown up with only sign language know only that form of grammar and it’s quite different from that of our language. If you read a letter written by one of these people, you’ll find it full of muddled and incomplete sentences. This is particularly unfortunate if writing a formal letter to one of the authorities.’ Schär laughed bitterly. ‘You can imagine how difficult it is for these people to be taken seriously.’

  ‘I certainly can.’ Richard recalled his experience of writing expert statements for the invalidity pension office.

  Over the next few weeks the contact between him and Schär was strengthened by their shared political views as well as their common interest in helping deaf children.

  During this period he and Paula started their private tuition in sign language with Fräulein Felber. During the first few weeks, Katharina Felber taught them the basic signs and gestures and dispelled their reserve in expressing themselves not only with their hands but also through mime and posture. After each lesson, Richard would feel as if he had been talking all evening, although not a single word had been said.

  When he described this feeling to Paula, she confided that she felt the same. ‘That accounts for what Herr Schär said about it really being a language in itself,’ she said. ‘We spent the whole evening talking, but not with our mouths. And yet the brain recognises it as speech and communicates to us the feeling that this was a real conversation with words. I’m finding it fascinating.’

  ‘And tiring. My mother will say, “Oh, poor Georg, he’s not going to be able to talk when the light’s off.”’

  Paula laughed at the imitation of his mother’s voice. ‘Yes, but when the light’s off, people have lots of other ways of making themselves understood,’ she said with her most impish smile.

  Tenderly, he took her face in his hands. ‘Do you ever have doubts, Paula? You always come across as so strong and completely at ease with this.’

  ‘So do you.’

  He let out a sigh. ‘Yes, because we have no choice. But there are times when I want to shout and scream and let go of all the self-control and rant on and on about how unfair it is that Georg will never be able to hear.’

  ‘So why don’t you?’

  He sighed again. ‘Because it wouldn’t change anything and wouldn’t make me feel any better.’

  ‘It might sound strange but I never feel the need to do that. Somehow, it’s become quite normal for me that Georg is as he is. He’ll never play the piano or listen to the radio, or as your mother put it, make a telephone call. But he’ll be able to drive a car, go off with you to do photography and learn how to develop the pictures; he’ll also be able to run, swim, do gymnastics, and will have a highly developed sense of sight with which he can enjoy his surroundings. Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ said Richard quietly. ‘And that’s why I don’t yell out all my despair. I don’t have any right to do that – all the more so when I think of Fritz and Dorothea, who pour out all their love on the dachsie.’

  ‘And they’re happy, you know, so don’t forget that.’

  ‘Yes,’ he acknowledged, ‘though I reckon Fritz would be even happier if Dorothea could eventually get over her fear of another pregnancy. He’d hoped that seeing ours would give her a nudge in that direction, but Georg’s deafness seems to have had the opposite effect on her.’

  ‘Maybe that’ll change when she realises that it doesn’t matter and that baby Georg will grow into a happy little boy.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. I’d love that for Fritz.’

  Chapter 24

  In the first few months after the change of government, Richard’s thoughts revolved largely around his son, so he didn’t immediately notice the insidious changes that were taking place at
the asylum. He first caught on at the weekly consultants’ meeting, when the senior consultant announced that their colleague Dr Jakob Goldner, who’d been in charge of the open country houses, had left the hospital at short notice and that the widely respected Dr Krüger would take over the post.

  ‘Where’s Dr Goldner gone to?’ asked Richard. He’d always liked Dr Goldner and he hoped that he’d now fulfilled his dream of getting a more senior role in another mental hospital.

  ‘I don’t know.’ The way the senior consultant spoke made it clear that he wanted no further questions, and that got Richard thinking. When a colleague moved on, there was never usually any secrecy over their new position.

  ‘Right, that concludes this item on the agenda. Let’s move to the next. A new law has been passed this month, and it will have an impact on our work. It’s the Law for the Prevention of Progeny with Hereditary Diseases, and it allows for the sterilisation of people with hereditary diseases.’

  This news was greeted with applause. Even Richard joined in, as he had never understood why people should be prevented from having themselves sterilised if they were carriers of a hereditary disease. It had long been permitted in most other European countries and in the USA. Only in Germany had the Church vehemently opposed it. Richard vividly recalled the arguments put forward by several bishops in which they lamented the promotion of immorality through allowing those with hereditary diseases to indulge in unrestrained fornication without fear of pregnancy. The draft bill had been tabled by the previous government and Richard had to admire the efficiency of the new government in getting it ratified in the Reichstag.

  ‘I’ve brought you the relevant extract.’ The senior consultant passed around copies of the document, still smelling strongly of alcohol from the duplicator.

  Law for the Prevention of Progeny with Hereditary Diseases

  14 July 1933

  The Government of the German Reich has passed and hereby announces the following law:

  § 1

  Those with hereditary disease may by surgical intervention be rendered infertile (sterilised) if, in accordance with medical research, there is a high probability that their progeny will suffer from severe hereditary physical or mental defects.

  In accordance with the purposes of this law, hereditary disease includes those who suffer from the following:

  innate feeble-mindedness

  schizophrenia

  circular insanity (manic depression)

  hereditary epilepsy

  Huntington’s chorea

  hereditary blindness

  hereditary deafness

  hereditary severe physical deformity

  Furthermore, those suffering from severe alcoholism may also be rendered sterile.

  § 2

  The request is to come from the person who wishes to be rendered sterile. Should this person be incapacitated in law, or incapacitated due to feeble-mindedness, or under the age of eighteen, then a legal representative is authorised to make the request. That person additionally requires authorisation by the court-appointed guardian. Where an adult has a personal carer, then the carer’s agreement is required.

  Certification from a German Reich qualified doctor is to be appended to the request to confirm that the process and consequences of sterilisation have been explained to the person concerned.

  The request can be withdrawn.

  § 3

  An authorised doctor can also request the sterilisation of inmates in a hospital, mental asylum or nursing home, as can the head of a penal institution.

  This law comes into effect on 1 January 1934

  Berlin, 14 July 1933

  Chancellor of the Reich,

  Adolf Hitler

  Minister for the Interior,

  Wilhelm Frick

  Ministry of Justice,

  Dr Franz Gürtner

  Richard read it once, then a second time, and eventually spoke. ‘I notice that schizophrenia is cited here as a hereditary disease. Has there been some new academic research? To my knowledge, no hereditary element has ever been proven, although there can be a higher incidence in some families. The same applies to manic depression.’

  ‘Herr Hellmer, you can safely assume that the specialists involved in drafting the new law have had as their source the most recent academic research. Our job is not to question the law after the event but to follow it. Simultaneous to the release of this text came the call for a number of asylum heads to examine inmates in relation to the application of section three.’ The senior consultant paused briefly. ‘Gentlemen, in the coming weeks you will receive the necessary registration forms, which must be carefully filled out with regard to each and every one of our inmates. Concentrate on those patients who are easier to treat and expect an early discharge – these have preferential status for sterilisation.’

  ‘And if they refuse?’

  ‘If they have a legal advocate, their decision will hold good. Should there be no advocate, then it is our job to persuade the patient of the advantages of sterilisation.’

  ‘And if they won’t be persuaded?’ Richard persevered.

  ‘We’ll discuss that if it arises. Any other questions?’

  Dr Harms raised his hand. ‘What’s the definition of severe alcoholism?’

  ‘We don’t have to deal with that. It relates purely to inmates of institutions for drinkers.’

  There were no further questions and so the senior consultant declared the meeting closed.

  Dr Harms caught Richard at the door. ‘You asked about Dr Goldner earlier on. Do you really not know?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s a Jew.’

  ‘So?’ asked Richard.

  ‘Quite a few state hospitals and asylums have been under pressure from on high to distance themselves from all Jewish doctors. Dr Goldner isn’t the only one. An old student chum of mine, a consultant in general medicine, has just been discharged as well, but he was lucky and got a job at the Israeli Hospital instead.’

  ‘And on what basis are Jewish doctors being dismissed?’

  ‘For being Jewish.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Go and look at Mein Kampf – you won’t believe some of our new Chancellor’s ideas.’

  ‘I have no intention of giving these people any additional support by buying his book.’

  ‘You don’t need to. The library here has a number of copies in stock. I know because I borrowed one of them. I’d be interested to hear what you think of it because at the moment you seem to be the only other person here, apart from me, not letting himself be infected by this insanity. Have you been in Dr Kleinschmidt’s office of late?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘He’s decorated it all with party symbols, including a huge framed motto in Gothic script, reading: “National Comrades! Remember you’re a German. Heil Hitler!” He even expects his patients to say it when they greet him. Bizarre, don’t you think?’

  ‘Dr Kleinschmidt? You can’t be serious!’

  ‘Just go to his office.’ Dr Harms shook his head. ‘I wish you a pleasant day, my dear colleague.’

  Early in the afternoon Richard went over to the institution’s library to borrow a copy of Mein Kampf. He had no trouble finding one as the library seemed to have a dozen copies on the shelves.

  Back in his office, he started to leaf through, looking for specific references. ‘What is being neglected on all sides in this matter has to be made up for by the people’s state. It must place race at the heart of everyday life . . .

  The people’s state must make a declaration of infertility regarding anything of sickly appearance or hereditarily burdened, and thus additionally burdensome, and to assert this in practice.’

  Speechless, Richard slammed the book shut. And to think he’d got worked up over the writings of Alfred Hoche and Karl Binding.

  When he got home that evening, he found Paula in the kitchen trying to console a tearful Leonie over a cup of coffee.


  ‘What’s happened?’ Richard had never seen Leonie look so distraught.

  Paula replied on her behalf. ‘They’ve dismissed a number of Jewish doctors at the children’s hospital. Even Dr Stamm. Nobody’s thought about what a good doctor he is and how much he’s done for the place. They’ve just dismissed him because he’s a Jew. Leonie too.’

  Richard sat down at the table with them and poured himself a coffee. ‘What are you going to do now?’ he asked Leonie.

  ‘I’ll help my father in his practice. There’s not much else I can do.’ Leonie sighed miserably. ‘There are rumours going around that Jewish doctors will soon no longer be approved to use the national health insurance scheme.’

  ‘But they can’t do that,’ raged Paula. ‘That would mean the end for many practices and for health care itself.’

  ‘I don’t think our government is going to care about that,’ commented Richard, ‘not after what I’ve experienced today.’ He told them about the consultants’ meeting and his conversation with Harms.

  ‘And what will you do if you have to fill out these forms?’ Paula asked him.

  ‘I can’t decide,’ he confessed. ‘On the one hand, I think that sterilisation would be a blessing for some of our patients. But I don’t like the way the voluntary aspect seems to have been taken away from certain people, while in the original version of the law it was voluntary for everyone. This is not about patient welfare or avoiding the burden of unwanted parenthood. Now it’s all about the absurd ideas of a totally uneducated, unenlightened and obsessed politician like Hitler. Then there’s all the nonsense he’s written in his book! I just can’t believe it. But it appears to be our new bible – how else could you explain the library at work having a dozen copies in stock?’

  ‘So what will you do?’ Paula asked him again.

  ‘I have no idea.’ Richard looked weary. ‘You both know what a passionate advocate of birth control I am. In certain cases sterilisation is actually indicated, and if this law were approaching the issue with caution and care, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, but the radical nature of it disgusts me. Why do so many patients have to be assessed and registered? It makes no sense at all. It would be enough simply to have a conversation with them shortly before their discharge to make sure they know about the opportunities for sterilisation.’