A Fight in Silence

by Melanie Metzenthin

  ‘You can’t get rid of us that easily!’ he said, kissing her. ‘We’re so clingy, we’ll keep coming back!’

  The trains were still surprisingly reliable, in spite of the damage to the infrastructure caused by the bombing raids. They found seats easily, as hardly anyone went in the direction of Hamburg these days, while all the trains coming from the other direction were packed. At Hannover, Emilia noticed a cattle truck in a siding. People were calling out for water and trying to push their hands through ventilation slits covered in barbed wire.

  ‘Papa, why are there people in that wagon? And why’s there barbed wire?’

  Richard took a look out of the window with her. ‘I don’t know, poppet.’

  ‘Perhaps they’re prisoners of war,’ said Georg sagely.

  ‘But there are women’s voices too,’ Emilia explained to him. ‘They’re shouting in German.’

  ‘I really don’t know, poppet,’ said Richard again. He tried to think of some plausible explanation but couldn’t come up with anything. As far as he knew, the Nazis always shipped off their political opponents to the nearest concentration camp and the sick and feeble-minded were collected from institutions by bus.

  At Hannover there was a change of crew on the train. When the woman came to check their tickets, Richard asked her outright about the cattle truck.

  ‘I don’t know what kind of people are in there,’ she said, clipping their tickets. ‘I just know the truck’s supposed to be going to Poland.’

  ‘Why’s it got that barbed wire?’ asked Emilia.

  ‘Probably so they don’t throw stuff out during the journey,’ replied the conductor. ‘Everyone knows how mucky the Poles are.’

  ‘But they’re asking for water in German.’

  ‘Nobody would understand if they did it in Polish. I wish you a pleasant onward journey to Hamburg,’ she said, before leaving their compartment.

  ‘Papa, what’s happening, do you think?’

  Giving a light shrug of the shoulders, Richard said, ‘Maybe they’re Polish people who were working here and are being taken home because so much has been flattened.’

  Their train arrived in Hamburg two hours later. As they crossed the Elbe they saw bombed and burnt-out buildings with only the outside walls still standing. Huge mounds of rubble made many streets impassable. Emilia and Georg stared through the train window in disbelief. The destruction was the same across the whole of the city.

  ‘Everything’s in ruins! There isn’t a single house left.’ Emilia was appalled.

  ‘Grandpa Wilhelm’s house is still standing,’ said Richard.

  ‘But Grandpa Hans-Kurt’s workshop isn’t, is it?’

  ‘And what about our car?’ asked Georg.

  ‘The war’s destroyed all that.’

  As their train rolled into Hamburg main station they realised that its glass canopy had suffered too. But it was astonishing how much activity still went on in this otherwise ruined city.

  ‘Let’s see if the elevated railway’s still working,’ Richard said to the children. Then they heard a woman’s voice calling out, ‘Dr Hellmer, is it really you?’

  Richard turned to find a middle-aged strawberry blonde with freckles, now a little faded by the years.

  ‘Do we know each other?’ He was puzzled at the interruption.

  ‘Yes, but from a long way back. It’s Georg I recognise.’

  Richard glanced down at his son, who appeared equally baffled.

  ‘Sister Elfriede. You used to collect your wife from the hospital by car, and Georg was in the children’s hospital with diphtheria.’

  Georg broke into a smile as the memory of this nurse came back to him, Richard too.

  ‘You recruited us to the People’s Welfare before the Nazis took it over.’

  ‘That’s right. A lot’s happened since then.’ She sighed. ‘But bumping into you here today, it’s a godsend.’

  ‘Really?’

  Sister Elfriede nodded. ‘Can you make time tomorrow to come to Langenhorn? It’s to do with Dr Krüger. There is nobody there I can trust with what I’ve found out, and it’s too monstrous for me to keep to myself. Do come. Please.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Three o’clock tomorrow, in front of the church.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  Chapter 54

  It felt strange to step inside his father-in-law’s home for the first time in three years. The entrance hall with its coat cupboard looked just the same as in 1926, when he had collected Paula for the first time. The front room had hardly changed either.

  ‘Richard, you’re here! This is wonderful!’ His mother was the first to greet him, hugging him as if he were still a little boy. Then it was his father’s turn to rejoice in their son’s arrival with an enthusiastic embrace. His father-in-law greeted him with a warm handshake and an affectionate pat on the shoulder, reserving his hugs for the grandchildren. Dear Frau Koch welcomed him with a smile, while gently scolding him for not bringing Paula with him.

  ‘That’s what it’s like when the lady of the house earns all the money! Work comes first.’ Richard said with a grin. ‘Jokes aside, she’d have loved to come, but they can’t manage without her at the hospital at the moment. So I thought I’d use a little of my convalescence period when no one is expecting anything of me to come and see you all.’

  ‘We’ve been so worried about you,’ his father confessed. ‘Are you better yet, my boy?’

  ‘Absolutely, Papa. With Fritz in charge, you’re safe as houses. He’s the best surgeon I know.’

  His mother gestured him towards the table. ‘Look! To celebrate, we’ve baked apple cake with apples from the allotment.’ They all took their places around the table and Richard’s mother cut the cake. ‘Not too big a slice for me, thank you – just half of that one.’

  ‘But you need to get your strength back!’

  ‘You’re right, but that’s why half is enough. My belly’s still recovering from all the shrapnel.’

  ‘But it’ll recover fully, won’t it?’

  ‘You bet. I’ll be tucking in again by Christmas.’ He beamed at his mother but then quickly changed the subject. ‘It looks as though you’ve got everything well set up here. Do you still have the same consulting room at the end of the hallway?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied his father-in-law. ‘You have to make use of whatever you’ve got. Paula’s decision to marry into the family of a master carpenter gives us a great advantage, even though I’ve had to sacrifice my biggest and best living-room cupboard for your father’s inventions!’

  ‘What do you mean? It’s still there.’

  Wilhelm and Hans-Kurt chuckled.

  ‘Yes, but it’s not a cupboard any more.’ Richard’s father got up and went over to it. ‘Look!’ He released two hooks that were barely noticeable then pulled down the door from the top. It opened out into a large double bed.

  ‘Books might be able to rest on a shelf, but people can’t. I got hold of a slatted wooden frame to put the mattress on. The cupboard door’s only there for show. You can sleep just as well in that bed as in any. This is how we’re keeping our heads above water. Our workshop may have been destroyed but our ideas march on. Holger’s lads can do this kind of work in the customer’s home, direct to order. Our capital was always our creativity. Yes, the workshop’s gone, but we still own our piece of woodland. When Karl eventually comes home from the war we’ll rebuild and go for specialisation in the kind of space-saving furniture that people will need. We’re already trying out kitchen benches and tables that anyone can transform into a bed in a few nifty moves.’

  ‘That’s ingenious!’ Richard leapt up in excitement and went to look more closely at the bed. The linen was held down by straps so that it didn’t slide off when the bed was folded back up. ‘Could you make a bed like that for Paula and me?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t know how we’d get it to Göttingen!’

  ‘I’m not thinking of there. The war can’t possibly go on f
or ever, and when it’s over we’d like to come back to Hamburg. There’s no suitable school for Georg in Göttingen.’

  ‘So why wait until after the war? There’s room for everyone here!’ said Paula’s father.

  ‘With the Nazis still in power and people like Krüger acting as informants, it’s still dangerous for Georg. But it might just be that fate has dealt me a card to use against Krüger.’ He told them about his appointment with Sister Elfriede.

  ‘If you need any support in sticking something on that swine of a man, I’m right with you.’ His father-in-law was in no doubt. ‘I know how to do it. The last time it took him weeks to shake off the suspicion that he’d been selling medicines on the black market. It was most unfortunate that he fell on his feet again and wormed his way into a senior post in the children’s department at Langenhorn. I want to see that man brought down for all the suffering he’s caused.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Richard promised.

  The following day at three o’clock, Sister Elfriede stood waiting for him outside the church in the grounds of Langenhorn. It had taken him an age to get there by tram, as there were problems with the network and he had to keep changing and finding alternative routes. He was amazed that any public transport was working at all in the circumstances, let alone as punctually as it was. But everything he saw from the window was painful for him and stirred memories of the old days in the late 1920s and early 1930s when he had regularly driven this route, and when the asylum at Langenhorn cared about patient welfare and people like Krüger had a rough ride.

  ‘I’m so pleased you’re here,’ said Sister Elfriede. ‘Let’s sit inside the church, where no one will disturb us.’

  Richard followed her in and sat down next to her. ‘So, what’s this all about?’

  Sister Elfriede took something from her pinafore pocket. It was a list of names and dates of birth. ‘After the bombing at Rothenburgsort and the transfer of most of the children to this place, Dr Krüger managed eventually to get himself put in charge of the children’s department and, after some toing and froing, became medical director.’ Sister Elfriede paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and then carried on. ‘During this time, he has killed at least twenty-two children by lethal injection, dissected six of them for research purposes and sent their brains to the Neuroanatomical Institute at Eppendorf. This list gives you the names, dates of birth and file numbers of the children concerned.’

  ‘He murdered children? And dissected them?’ Richard struggled to take this in. Even Krüger couldn’t have sunk to this level, surely?

  ‘Yes, that’s what he did,’ said Sister Elfriede. ‘It’s so truly monstrous that it is hard to believe. I’ve already tried to get at the files in the archive, but it’s difficult. The archivist is vigilant and if there’s nothing to occupy her elsewhere it’s impossible to take the right files without her noticing. I’d like you to distract her while I get hold of one or two files as evidence. My fear is that these documents will have disappeared by the end of the war and there’ll be no proof that the children on this list really were murdered. Will you help me?’

  ‘Definitely. Is it still Frau Unterweger in the archive? She knows me from before.’

  ‘No. She died in the firestorm.’ Sister Elfriede lowered her eyes for a moment. ‘It’s Frau Rating now, and she was appointed two years ago. She’s very conscientious, and a dyed-in-the-wool Nazi at that.’

  ‘Charming. I know how to deal with people like her.’

  The archive was lodged in an unobtrusive little building between the pavilions that used to be open houses. The children’s facility had been added during the intervening years. Richard wondered if the secure unit was the same and whether Kurt Hansen still worked there. He’d have loved to have seen his old colleague again, but the risk of running straight into one of Krüger’s informants was too great.

  Richard let Sister Elfriede go into the little building first, then waited a short time before knocking at the door. He heard steps approaching as if up a short flight of stairs, then the door opened.

  ‘Yes? What can I do for you?’

  ‘Forgive me for knocking like this, but I’m trying to find House 27C.’

  ‘Are you sure you have the right number? There’s no 27C here.’

  ‘Isn’t there? Oh, dear – nothing similar then? I’ve been told my son’s in there. He’s just turned twelve.’

  ‘For what reason is your son in hospital?’

  ‘Aargh . . .’ Richard let out a sudden groan of pain, his hand flying to the old wound.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ gasped Richard, noticing that his little performance was having the desired effect. ‘A shell got me a couple of months back. In Cherbourg.’ He took several deep breaths. ‘There, it’s passing already.’

  ‘Do you want to sit down for a moment?’

  ‘Oh yes, please, that’s most kind of you.’

  She ushered him into the building and to her office, directing him to the only chair in the room.

  ‘Shall I bring you a glass of water?’

  ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ replied Richard, letting out a convincing groan.

  ‘That’s no trouble at all. Think nothing of it. One moment.’ And the archivist left the room.

  Richard looked around. Opposite him, the door to the basement stood open. This was where the files of deceased or simply discharged patients were stored. He wondered whether Sister Elfriede had already found what she needed.

  Frau Rating came back with the glass of water.

  ‘Thank you.’ Richard sipped at it appreciatively.

  ‘And what has your son been diagnosed with?’

  ‘Diphtheria. I only got back to Hamburg last night. Before that I was in the field hospital at Göttingen, you see. My wife told me about Ludwig being in hospital and it not looking so good for him, so I had to come here straight away. I couldn’t bear it if he died without my seeing him. In the last three years, I’ve only had a few days with him on home leave.’ He wiped his eyes with deliberate discretion, something which didn’t go unnoticed.

  ‘I’m so sorry. If your son has diphtheria, then he’ll be in the infection ward.’

  They heard footsteps coming up the stairs from the basement. It was Sister Elfriede.

  ‘Did you manage to find the files yourself?’ asked Frau Rating. ‘I had to look after this gentleman.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got everything. Thank you, Frau Rating.’

  Frau Rating checked the numbers of the files that Sister Elfriede held quite openly and entered their details in the file loan book.

  ‘Are you going straight back on the ward?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you could take this gentleman with you, if you wouldn’t mind. He says his son is being treated here for diphtheria and I know he’ll need help in finding the infection ward.’

  ‘Of course. Do come with me. I’ll show you the way.’

  Richard put his glass down on the desk and got up with exaggerated care. ‘Many thanks. You’re both too kind.’

  ‘We must all stick together at times like this,’ said Frau Rating. ‘My very best wishes to you and your family.’

  ‘Tell me how you managed to wrap her around that little finger of yours,’ said Sister Elfriede once they were out of earshot.

  ‘Tales of wounded German war heroes whose children are at death’s door. That does the trick with any of our national comrades,’ he said with a smile. ‘So have you really got everything?’

  ‘Yes, two files in a linen bag hidden under my pinafore. These here are the ones I was actually meant to collect. If anyone notices that the other two are missing, they’ll never think it’s anything to do with us.’

  Sister Elfriede slid out the bag and handed it to Richard. ‘Take good care of it. Maybe I can’t stop anything from happening, but at least I can make sure these crimes don’t go unpunished.’

  ‘Sister Elfriede, thank you. You’r
e very brave. I won’t let you down.’

  Once back at his father-in-law’s home, he studied the documents more closely. They were the records of a three-year-old girl with severe epilepsy and a baby boy with hydrocephaly. Both children had been murdered by injection of Luminal and then dissected. The dissection report was in Krüger’s handwriting. Richard passed on the files and the list of names of the other murdered children to his father-in-law.

  ‘Please take good care of this,’ Richard said to him. ‘This provides us with the evidence that Krüger’s a murderer. One day, we’ll hold him to account.’

  PART THREE

  Zero Hour

  Chapter 55

  On returning to Göttingen, Richard kept his word and applied for a post in psychiatry. Professor Ewald took him on immediately. It was a new experience for Richard to be working alongside his wife and for her to be his point of referral on the workings of the department. At times, he caught himself thinking of staying long-term in Göttingen because he loved the work at the asylum. Living at the home of the melancholic Frau Heiroth, however, was growing increasingly trying. She even burst into Richard and Paula’s bedroom one night when she had one of her ‘turns’, as she liked to call them. When she refused to give them the key, Richard fitted a bolt to the inside of the door, something that led to weeks of tension. At the end of November, Frau Heiroth threatened to give them notice, so Richard and Paula made the decision for her. In December they and the twins returned to Hamburg so that Richard and Paula could take over her seventy-year-old father’s practice. Professor Ewald was sorry to lose such expertise and, on Paula’s departure, gave her an outstanding reference which confirmed her standing as a consultant in psychiatry.

  Karl turned up unexpectedly just before Christmas, accompanied by a pregnant French girl, who he introduced to the family as his wife, Julie. She was a dainty, pretty young woman with curly brown hair and green eyes.

  ‘When Paris fell in August, we had no choice but to disappear,’ Karl explained. ‘You wouldn’t believe what women go through if they’ve had a relationship with a German. They’d never have forgiven Julie for having my child, and I couldn’t possibly have left her behind.’