A Fight in Silence

by Melanie Metzenthin

  ‘I see the work and the contribution that the sick make when performing tasks for the hospital. I have no figures to draw a comparison with the typical average agricultural worker. From the outset, it has been incumbent on the expert witness to define the terms of the capacity for productivity. I have completed the forms to the best of my knowledge and conscience.’

  ‘But you ought to have recognised the variable quality of your patients’ work and taken the trouble to show some gradation,’ Nissen said, flaring up at him. ‘Any idiot could have done that!’

  ‘Excuse me, I’m a doctor, not an idiot.’ Richard let this slip almost involuntarily.

  ‘Is that so?’ snarled Nissen. ‘It looks as though it’s the other way around with you.’ Then he turned to Dr Krüger. ‘It seems to me we have here either a case of crass stupidity or of calculated insubordination.’

  ‘I’m afraid I have to assume the insubordination,’ said Krüger. ‘Dr Hellmer has been an outstandingly reliable provider of expert statements for some time. I would not otherwise have given him this responsibility.’

  Richard was seized by an idea so bold it was almost reckless. He now had nothing to lose. Krüger had already stabbed him in the back. It was time to take Krüger into the abyss along with him.

  ‘So I’m your sacrificial pawn, although you yourself informed me that those of our patients on the first wave of registration forms were gassed in Brandenburg, and because of this you asked me to fill out all future forms differently in order to save the others from this same fate?’

  Krüger stared at him, aghast, and bellowed, ‘That’s an out-and-out lie!’

  ‘Gentlemen,’ said Richard, addressing the two visitors, ‘if you look carefully at the files, you will see that my incorrect entries started nine months ago and that all those prior to that were correct. I had orders from Dr Krüger to carry on. I’d have kept that to myself if my colleague had at least showed the decency not to charge me with insubordination over something that he himself ordered.’

  ‘Hellmer, you are summarily dismissed!’ roared Krüger. ‘This is grotesque!’ He turned to look at the two visiting doctors. ‘Gentlemen, I deny all knowledge of this monstrous impertinence.’

  Nissen nodded. ‘It’s not for us to be thinking about disciplinary measures here. Dr Krüger, if you are minded to start a procedure for insubordination, you are at liberty to do so, of course. I would, however, advise against it because a procedure of this type would merely draw unnecessary attention to the deed. I think that the dismissal of the guilty party on the grounds of gross misconduct and the reworking of the registration forms would be the most elegant solution to the problem. Do we understand one another?’

  Then he turned to Richard. ‘As for you, Dr Hellmer, in such times as these it would be a waste for a doctor like you, someone who pays so much attention to his patients’ capacity for productivity, to stand in court for insubordination. To my mind, you will be of far greater service to our people at the Front. I shall today inform the conscription office of your immediate availability. And you can get on your knees to thank God that I am in such a lenient mood. That is all. You may go.’

  Richard was stunned, which made him slow to take in what had just happened. Not only had he been dismissed from his post and would now be conscripted, but his patients would all now be reassessed. He felt some relief that he had already removed the twins, Manfred and Rolf, as well as Johannes Mönicke, from Krüger’s sphere of influence. But was that any compensation? Had he been too arrogant when he’d thrown caution to the winds and basically declared every patient as fit for work? Would it have been better to sacrifice a few in order to save the lives of others?

  Without a word, he left Krüger’s office and went to gather up his belongings.

  While he was still packing things away, there was a knock on his door. It was Kurt Hansen.

  ‘Is it true what I’ve heard? You’ve been summarily dismissed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because I’ve behaved like a doctor and not an idiot. Take care of yourself, Kurt, and look after our patients. They desperately need you, even more than ever.’

  And that is how it came to be not Fritz but Richard who needed to pour his heart out over a beer that evening.

  ‘That’s dreadful,’ said Fritz. ‘Looks like I did choose the right specialism after all.’

  ‘Certainly the way things are, yes.’ Richard took a large mouthful of beer. Paula had been horrified when he’d told her what had happened. Losing his job was one thing, but to have conscription looming, well, that was quite another.

  ‘What if they put you in a punishment battalion?’ she’d asked him, her face and voice full of worry. Richard had just shrugged his shoulders. He’d run fresh out of ideas to get him out of this.

  But Fritz had a brainwave. ‘Head them off before the marching orders even arrive,’ he said. ‘Sign up of your own volition for the medical battalion that I’ve been assigned to. I’ll write out a formal recommendation, saying that I need you there. We’ll do it first thing in the morning, before that idiot in Berlin has time to act. That means you’ll already be committed, out of sight and out of mind. And on top of that they won’t be afraid of their mercy-killing scheme coming to light because you’ll be tucked away in North Africa.’

  ‘And we can go through it shoulder to shoulder, like we always have. Do you know what? That doesn’t sound so bad.’ Richard turned to the barman. ‘Two more beers here, please.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Fritz. ‘Shoulder to shoulder. I’ll ask Professor Wehmeyer for a statement in support as well, saying that you can be deployed as both a surgeon and psychiatrist at the Front, and that this makes you of significant importance in the war effort. I’m sure there’d be no further questions asked.’

  ‘Except by Krüger, perhaps. I’ve already caused him a fair bit of trouble. I’m afraid he’ll never forgive me.’

  ‘Are you dependent on the forgiveness of an idiot who stabbed you in the back and sacked you?’

  ‘No, absolutely not.’

  The barman brought over their beers.

  ‘To life!’ said Fritz. ‘And may we always find a way, even in the darkest of times, of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel!’

  ‘To life!’ repeated Richard.

  They clinked glasses and, in spite of all his concerns, Richard felt some comfort. He was not alone.

  Chapter 36

  Paula tried to make Richard’s last few days in Hamburg as pleasant as she could and not let her worry affect him, but he knew her too well not to sense her inner anguish at the prospect of this separation.

  ‘You won’t have any money worries,’ he reminded her. ‘The army may not pay so well as the hospital, but it’s better than dole money any day!’

  ‘Don’t you dare tell me you won’t need clothing ration cards any more and that we have to look on the bright side!’ She was watching him try on his uniform in front of the bedroom mirror. And although she’d rather never have seen him in uniform in the first place, she had to admit he looked tremendous. The grey jacket, with its silver-blue lapels and epaulettes bearing the classic symbol of his profession, the golden staff of Asclepius, was so dignified and showed off his handsome physique. The elegant peaked cap and highly polished black boots completed the picture of a well-turned-out officer. Thanks to Fritz’s intervention and outstanding references from Professor Wehmeyer, Richard had immediately been assigned to a junior doctor post rather than an auxiliary role, and this gave him the rank of lieutenant.

  ‘I’ll only be in the medical service,’ he said, hoping to lessen Paula’s fears. ‘We carry a weapon purely for self-defence.’

  ‘I know all that. Have you got a photograph for your ID card?’

  ‘No, they need one in uniform. I was thinking we could all go to the photographer tomorrow and have a couple of family pictures done at the same time.’

  ‘Family photos with you in uniform?’ Paula fro
wned. ‘Not that I’m superstitious, but it hasn’t exactly brought your family any joy to have a farewell photo of someone in uniform, has it?’

  ‘We’ve got to break the bad spell some time!’ said Richard airily. ‘Nothing’ll happen to me, anyway. Fritz thinks we’ll be in the main military hospital in Tripoli and that’s miles from the front line. It’s probably much quieter than Hamburg in an air raid.’ He paused. ‘I’m far more worried about leaving you alone with the children at such a terrible time.’

  ‘We’ll manage. What matters is that you watch out for yourself and come back to us safely. I don’t ever want a letter like the one Margit and Holger received.’

  ‘As a matter of principle, I have no intention whatsoever of dying for the sake of the Führer, the people and the fatherland. I promise you, I’d far rather survive as a coward than die as a hero.’

  He drew her close.

  ‘You’ll never be a coward, Richard,’ she said, sinking into the comfort of his embrace. ‘If you were a coward, you’d have joined the party long ago and outdone even the likes of Krüger in bootlicking for self-advancement. But you’ve always stayed true to yourself and tried to do the best for your patients. You are the bravest man I know.’

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘That’ll be Emilia,’ said Paula, breaking away from Richard and going to open their front door.

  Shortly afterwards, Emilia came rushing into the bedroom, her school satchel still on her back.

  ‘Daddy, I’ve brought you something!’ she shouted boisterously as she took off the satchel.

  ‘Really? What can it be?’

  ‘Ooh, is that your uniform? You look really smart, Papa!’

  Paula came back in, just in time to see Richard smiling broadly at his daughter’s compliments and enthusiasm.

  ‘Thank you, poppet. And what have you brought me?’

  She undid her satchel and took out a pot of greasy cream. ‘This! Look! Because it’s much hotter in Africa than here and you mustn’t get sunburn!’

  Laughing with delight, he took the pot and then wrapped his arms around his little daughter. ‘Thank you so much, darling! You’re just wonderful – you think of everything! What on earth would I do without you?’

  ‘Are you staying in Africa long?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  ‘And will you fight against the English when you’re there and stop them dropping these bombs on our heads?’

  ‘No, I won’t be fighting anyone. I’ll be working in a hospital with Uncle Fritz, treating our sick and wounded soldiers.’

  ‘Can I try on your new cap, Papa?’

  ‘Of course, darling.’ He took it off and handed it to her. She put it on and looked at herself in the mirror. The peak almost covered her eyes, and with her long fair plaits hanging around her shoulders, it made for a comical contrast.

  ‘Suits you perfectly,’ said Richard, whereupon Emilia tried to salute him.

  ‘Pity I won’t get a cap like that when I join the League of German Girls next year.’

  The sirens started.

  ‘Air raid!’ exclaimed Paula. ‘And Georg isn’t back yet, but the tram’s due any minute.’

  ‘Get yourself and Emilia down to the cellar straight away – I’m off to the tram stop for Georg.’ He grabbed back his cap and put it on. Leaving the house in uniform still felt alien to him, but there was no time to change.

  While Paula and Emilia hurried down to the cellar with the suitcase full of their precious photo albums and documents, Richard ran to the tram stop. The few people still out were moving fast towards their own shelters and most people were already somewhere safe. Richard found himself wondering what the tram driver would most likely do. Would he wait at the next stop so that everyone could find somewhere to take cover or simply carry on with his schedule? Fritz would definitely still be in the operating theatre, ignoring the threat from overhead in order to finish the operation.

  In the distance, he saw the tram coming and heaved a sigh of relief. When it stopped, most of the passengers got out fast and rushed away. Georg was confused and had to look twice before recognising his father in uniform.

  ‘Quick! Air-raid warning!’ Richard signed to Georg. The little boy nodded and ran straight up to him. Richard seized him by the hand and they set off for home.

  Almost immediately, Richard heard the roar of enemy bombers. He paused and looked skywards. This was the first time he’d been outside in an air raid. Georg followed his gaze. The bombers were still very high, probably aiming for the port area. Soon afterwards, he heard anti-aircraft rockets and they saw an aircraft going into a spin, coming down and exploding on the far side of the Elbe. Richard flinched but at the same time was so fascinated by what they were witnessing that he forgot to keep running. Georg, spared the horrific background noises, was spellbound. The lad stared fixedly up at the sky and pointed towards a tiny white blotch that seemed slowly to float down to earth.

  ‘That’s the pilot,’ Richard signed for Georg. ‘He jumped out just in time with his parachute. As soon as he lands, our people will capture him and he’ll be a prisoner of war until it’s over.’

  Several more planes tumbled from the sky, and the flashes continued for a while before the enemy turned back and the sirens sounded the all-clear. Georg was still transfixed by the sight of columns of smoke now rising from the port.

  ‘We’ve been lucky again, haven’t we?’ said Richard to his son. Georg nodded, beaming from ear to ear.

  ‘Weren’t you frightened?’

  ‘No,’ signed Georg in reply, ‘because I was with you, Papa.’

  Richard’s spirits fell. He’d have given anything not to be forced to leave Paula and the children alone with all this.

  Next morning it was time for the photography session to secure Richard’s ID photo as well as some family shots. While the photographer was busying himself in the back room with the final photos, the bell at the shop door announced the arrival of a new customer.

  It was none other than Fritz, also in uniform, along with his family and Rudi, the adorable dachshund.

  ‘I had a feeling we’d see you all here!’ he said, as Rudi, tail wagging, ran straight over to Georg and Emilia.

  ‘So even a captain in the medical corps needs an ID photo in full regalia, eh?’ commented Richard with a smile.

  ‘He certainly does,’ confirmed Fritz. ‘But while we’re all here, shall we have one of us all together? We haven’t got any like that.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Richard was ready to agree, but at the same time he couldn’t help thinking of Paula’s superstition. Did it really bring bad luck to photograph the family group with one in uniform, ready to leave for the Front? He’d always refused to believe it but suddenly it didn’t seem so absurd. This time, though, there was one big difference, he told himself. His brother, Georg, as well as Jürgen and Karl, had been called up as ordinary soldiers. He and Fritz were medical officers. They wouldn’t be fighting. And yes, he’d love a photo of all of them together. As he was always the photographer, he was usually missing from the many photos they had of Fritz and his family and Paula with the twins.

  Four-year-old Harri picked Rudi up, then they lined up in two rows, both sets of parents at the back, the four children with the dog in front.

  ‘We’ll need four prints, please,’ said Fritz. ‘One for each of us to have with us at the Front, and one for each family to have at home.’

  The photographer nodded, pleased to have such good business.

  ‘May I make a fifth print for my window display? Family photos with an officer in uniform are so popular.’

  Fritz and Richard glanced at one another briefly and read each other’s thoughts.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not,’ replied Fritz. ‘It’s very much a private matter.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ said the photographer.

  ‘But you’re welcome to photograph our dachsie and put him in the window!’ said Fritz with his most mischievous laugh. ‘He�
��s very photogenic.’

  In response the photographer merely handed Richard his collection number and got on with the ID picture for Fritz.

  Chapter 37

  Once Richard had departed for Tripoli with Fritz on 1 March 1941, the gap in Paula’s life was hard to bear. She had to stop herself from writing him a long letter even on the first day. The worst time was when the children were at school. Of course, Richard had always been out at the hospital at that time of day, but she knew he’d be back in the evening and that he and the children would fill the flat with life. She had the mornings to herself for housework and making sure that everything was done, but since the air raids had intensified she found herself constantly worrying if the children were not home. As a distraction, she and Fritz’s wife spoke often on the telephone. Dorothea felt the same and there came a point when both women confessed to missing their jobs.

  ‘It wasn’t a problem when Fritz was here,’ Dorothea explained. ‘He used to talk about operations so much that I felt as if I was still working there and knew what all my old colleagues were up to. Now I feel twice as cut off. I take care of the housework and the children, but that isn’t enough.’

  Paula sighed. ‘Same here.’

  ‘Maybe we could make ourselves useful somewhere for a couple of hours a week – you know, just on a voluntary basis,’ Dorothea suggested. ‘Then nothing at home would be neglected but we could still do something meaningful outside the four walls.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Paula enthusiastically. ‘Any ideas where?’

  ‘I’ll ask around.’ Dorothea’s doorbell rang and Rudi started barking. ‘There’s Henriette! I’ll have to go. I’ll get in touch once I’ve found out more.’

  ‘Thank you so much. Bye, Doro.’

  One bright spot on the horizon, at least. The second bright spot came only one hour later when the post arrived. Here was the first, longed-for letter from Richard. In spite of the privilege of the army postal service, it had still taken ten days to reach her.