by Peter Haden
‘We can hardly talk here,’ the American countered. ‘Can we set up a meeting, after the show?’
‘I really need to get back to the estate,’ Günther told him. ‘Would you be able to come to the farm? We could pick you up from the station in Stettin. I think my father would want to be involved, as well.’
In truth, whilst he would be happy to involve his father, it was Hannah that Günther wanted in on any discussion. He was smart enough to know that whereas he might have the engineering skills, it was his wife who had the head for business. They had just installed the telephone in the main house. It was the only private one in the village. He gave Herr Bloch the number.
‘That sure was a mighty fine lunch, Frau Raschdorf,’ complimented the American, two days later, forgetting himself and speaking in English.
‘Thank you,’ she said simply. ‘We can speak English if you wish, but my husband would be at a disadvantage. Bitte, lassen Sie uns Deutsch sprechen.’
Günther was more than a little impressed. His wife had mentioned studying English, as well as French, with her tutors. She sounded pretty much fluent.
Switching to German as she had requested, the American told her that he could not remember having such an enjoyable luncheon. ‘I trained in my father’s restaurant,’ she told him.
‘Then Herr Raschdorf is an extremely lucky man,’ he responded with feeling. ‘I have a good mind to send our cook over for lessons!’
They moved to the small drawing room for coffee. Günther’s father had declined to join them, saying that he was feeling a bit off-colour, but they could speak later or tomorrow once they knew what the American was proposing.
Which was, he said initially, that his company wished to purchase the design rights. And they would compensate Günther handsomely if he would sell. A figure of twenty-five thousand marks was on the table – a sum that would almost set up Günther and Hannah for life.
Günther sensed that Hannah was not impressed. The American was surprised when her husband seemed content for her to reply.
‘That sounds like a generous opening offer,’ she said slowly, choosing her words and emphasis carefully.
‘But…?’ Bloch responded cautiously, seeking to draw out any reluctance.
‘I know what profit we are making now,’ she told him. ‘After all, I do the books. So far, our chief engineer has taken on two more skilled men and an apprentice, and we can sell every tractor we make. So, the business is ripe for expansion. I would like some time to look at the figures in more detail, but I am not sure at this stage whether your offer really compensates for this.’
Listening to his wife, Günther had the good sense to keep quiet. For his part, the American realised that he was facing a highly intelligent and experienced businesswoman, not just the wife of some farmer-come-manufacturer.
‘So we need another meeting, after you have had time to consider our offer,’ said Bloch.
‘Just give us a few days,’ Hannah requested. ‘But before you go, please allow me to float another idea. So far you have proposed only a lump sum.’ She went on. ‘There is an alternative, which is that you manufacture under license. That way you pay us an agreed sum for every machine you make to my husband’s design. We would have to work out the details, but instead of paying us out with a lump sum you would be able to put the capital towards setting up your own production facility in Germany.’
The American’s response was that he would have to cable his board, but such an arrangement might also be possible, although he wasn’t sure.
‘Give me forty-eight hours,’ said Hannah. ‘Then if you wish, we can meet in Stettin. My father still lives there.’
‘Now,’ she said, rising to her feet, ‘let me be a better hostess. Would you like some more coffee, perhaps a glass of something?’ She looked towards her husband.
‘Have a brandy,’ Günther invited, ‘before I drive you back to the station.’
‘When you are looking at the price, it’s really not unlike buying or selling shares in a company,’ she explained to Günther that evening after supper. ‘There’s a relationship between what you pay, what that share earns, and therefore how long it takes to recoup your original investment. It’s called the price-earnings ratio. In this case he is offering us twenty-five thousand marks for the design – effectively for your business. But that’s it – after that, no more earnings, ever.’
She paused to sip her wine. ‘But let’s assume a reasonable production quantity and a fee for us on every unit. I’ll do the maths tomorrow, but if he makes a given number of tractors and we have a fee on each one, I can work out how long it would be before we get the twenty-five thousand anyway, and after that we still receive an income. My guess is that based on what he is offering now, we ought to break even in about three or four years and after that we would be in profit.’
As she set down her glass they were interrupted by a frantic knocking on the front door. It was Frau Brantis, still in her cook’s apron.
‘The mistress says can you come quickly,’ she gasped, still out of breath. ‘It’s the master – he’s been taken poorly.’
Dieter Raschdorf was lying on a chaise long, a cushion under his head and covered by an eiderdown. He was breathing but unconscious.
‘He collapsed just after dinner,’ said Inge Raschdorf, her lips trembling with fear. ‘I’ve sent to the village for Doktor Dorn.’
An hour later, with the doctor’s permission, Günther – with a little help from the doctor and Hannah – carried his now semi-conscious father to bed. He and Hannah left the doctor and his parents and waited anxiously in the drawing room.
They reassembled three quarters of an hour later. ‘I have given your father a thorough examination,’ Dr Dorn began, ‘and it is my firm diagnosis that he has suffered a stroke. This accounts for some difficulty with movement, particularly on his left-hand side, and also the slackness of his facial muscles on that same side. And his blood pressure is elevated. I have given him some medication, and he may need to be taken to the hospital in Stettin, but for now he is probably more comfortable where he is rather than being subjected to quite a long road journey.’
Günther took a moment to consider the news. ‘So what is your prognosis?’ he eventually asked. ‘What would be for the best?’
‘Your father might make a full recovery,’ the doctor advised, ‘but I think it is more likely that he will be partially but permanently affected. I hope he will be able to resume at least some of his former life, but I would be failing in my duty if I did not tell you that it is unlikely he will ever return fully to his former self.’
Günther glanced at his mother. Inge Raschdorf had not spoken, but she was twisting a handkerchief, tears coursing.
‘He should be comfortable overnight,’ the doctor said gently, ‘but I would like to return and look at him again first thing in the morning.’
‘Thank you, Herr Doktor,’ said Hannah, rising to her feet. ‘We will take care of him for now. Let me show you out.’
Günther and Hannah managed to put off the meeting with Herr Bloch until the following Saturday, but on Friday they sat with Inge for a family discussion.
‘Dieter has some mobility, and he is fully conscious,’ she began, ‘but there is no way he can return to running the estate. I have to nurse him and it has been difficult this week to do that – even with help – as well as take charge of the house and supervise a midday meal for twelve people.’
She turned to her daughter-in-law. ‘Hannah, my dear, I have no right to ask this of you, and if you would rather not do as I am going to ask, I shall never hold it against you.’
They were together on a comfortable sofa. Hannah placed a hand over those of her mother-in-law. ‘How can I help?’ she asked gently.
‘I have given this a lot of thought,’ Inge began. ‘I can’t run the estate and this household as well as look af
ter Dieter. I think it might be time for you and Günther to take over from Dieter and me. You don’t have to decide now – you will want to talk things over privately. But my dearest wish would be that you move into this house, that you and Günther assume full responsibility for the Raschdorf estate, and I will look after Dieter in the cottage.
‘Neither Doktor Dorn nor I have any illusions that Dieter will make a complete recovery,’ she went on, ‘but this would allow me to nurse him and in time he may be able to give at least some help to Günther. Then he would still feel that he was making a contribution, and I think that would be important to him, for his peace of mind.’
Günther was forestalled by Hannah’s reply. ‘Then if that’s what you wish,’ she said firmly, ‘that’s what we will do. Please tell me when you would like to move and Günther will organise everything. As for looking after your estate workers at lunchtime, I shall start on Monday. After all,’ she said, to lighten the mood, ‘I used to make dinner for nearly forty covers a night in the restaurant. I wouldn’t be much of a daughter-in-law if I couldn’t supervise a lunch for your workers!’
Günther was overcome with a mix of emotions – love, gratitude and an immense pride in his wife.
They took the train to Stettin the following morning. Her father met them with his new Adler, which he had – only just, said Hannah not too kindly – taught himself to drive. They had lunch at the restaurant with Herr Bloch, who compared the cuisine most graciously with that available in America.
Hannah had done the maths. Bloch had been cabling back and forth. Their preference, he opened, was still to buy the design outright, and he was authorised to push the offer up to thirty thousand marks. But the board would consider a license agreement for five years, although based on their projected figures and the royalty fees the Americans were prepared to offer, the Raschdorfs would probably not be in profit until after year four. The buy-out option, he assured them, was much the better deal.
For Günther and Hannah, with all the forthcoming responsibilities of the estate, expanding their business was a non-starter. But the American did not know this. The license agreement, she said firmly, was the only way for them to go.
And besides, she knew he was bluffing. Based on what was on offer, the payback time would be three and a half years, max. She in turn pitched for a ten-year agreement. They settled on seven. Günther had already told her that after five or six years the design would probably be obsolete anyway.
But Bloch insisted that Derresford would have the right to modify the design as they saw fit, Günther and Hannah were happy to agree. ‘But a small quid pro quo – three, in fact,’ she threw in at the end. ‘First, you have to grant us a dealership, so that we can sell and service your tractors in our part of Germany. It doesn’t have to be exclusive, we’ll compete with anyone. But this way, we both profit.’
The American gave his word. After all, thought Hannah, if you were going to buy a tractor or have it repaired or serviced, who else would you go to rather than the man who had designed it in the first place? She had already mentally sketched out the first farming magazine advertisement.
‘And the second?’ asked Bloch
‘I shall want access to the books, just to be sure that everything is fair to both of us,’ she said bluntly. ‘And finally,’ she concluded, ‘you pay us in American dollars, directly from the United States to our account in Switzerland.’
‘But we don’t have an account in Switzerland,’ Günther pointed out as soon as they were alone and on their way home.
‘No, but my father does,’ Hannah replied. ‘If there’s one thing we Jews know how to operate, it’s the banking system. My father’s cousin is head of foreign exchange at the Commerzbank in Frankfurt-am-Main. And if cousin Josef can open an account for my father, he can open one for you and me!’
Two weeks later, after the lawyers had argued over drafts to justify their fee, the paperwork was signed. The Raschdorf 40 would be produced and sold as a “Derresford”. Günther’s two mechanics declined the offer of a job on the estate and left with a month’s wages to seek skilled work elsewhere. The apprentice opted to remain, but with the stated intention of joining the Army as soon as he was of age. To Günther’s relief Johann agreed to stay on and set up the dealership and repair shop.
Dieter and Inge settled comfortably into the cottage and Hannah, Günther and Renate entered a new phase in their life.
Chapter 8
Little changed in rural Germany as the nineteen twenties gave way to the thirties. The estate ran smoothly under Günther’s now experienced hand. At the turn of the decade, they were saddened by the death of Dieter Raschdorf, who suffered a second stroke having never recovered fully from the first. Shortly afterwards, Inge declared that the estate held too many memories and she could not just sit out her middle and later years in the cottage. She loved her family and would see them all from time to time, but she had been invited to live with her elder sister, also widowed, in her now too-large apartment in Berlin. They would be company for each other, and the city had so much more cultural life to offer than an isolated cottage on a farm almost on the edge of beyond.
If life was comfortable for the Raschdorf family, however, it was less so for many of their fellow countrymen. The depression that began with the October 1929 Wall Street crash in America had severe effects in Germany, where there were already additional burdens stemming from the enormous compensation the country was forced to pay after losing the war. Following the crash and desperate for capital, the United States government called in the massive foreign loans it had provided to Europe. Germany suffered more than any other country, with rising social hardship. By the end of 1930, four million workers – some fifteen percent of the population – were unemployed. Many more could work only part-time. Inflation, the scourge of the Weimar Republic a decade before, returned. But the production agreement signed with Derresford still had more than another four years to run. Every day Günther blessed Hannah’s wisdom in insisting on payment in dollars to a Swiss bank. They had, by now, a very considerable balance.
By 1932, almost one third of the German workforce was out of work. With a promise to cure unemployment, on 30th January 1933 Adolph Hitler was appointed Chancellor of Germany.
‘I can’t help worrying,’ Hannah confided again one evening. ‘He’s been blaming the Jews for the state of the economy, as well as losing the war, yet there are only about half a million of us in the country. Father says we can’t be to blame – Jewish people are less than one percent of the whole population!’
‘President Hindenburg must know what he’s doing,’ Günther responded, ‘and somebody has to lead us out of this mess. That’s why the NAZI party got one third of the votes in last year’s elections to the Reichstag. Heaven knows, things are pretty bad. I’m hard pressed to keep the estate above water. If we have to,’ he suggested, not for the first time, ‘we could use a little of the Derresford money to help us out.’
So far, Hannah knew, Günther had not laid off a single estate worker. But when anyone left, they had not been replaced. And her household staff had been reduced to Frau Brantis in the kitchen, one scullery maid mornings only to help prepare lunch, and one maid in the house.
But the Derresford fund, as they called it, was one of the few subjects on which they disagreed. Like her parents before her, Hannah had always been acutely conscious of anti-Semitism. True, it was much worse in countries further east, but as long ago as nineteen-twenty, the twenty-five point Party Program of the National Socialists had signalled an intention to separate Jews from “Aryan” society and to deny them political, legal and civil rights. Now, more than ever, Hannah felt that their Switzerland fund represented a safety net that they would be unwise to bring into Germany.
‘But you’re Germans first, by nationality, and Jewish second, only by religion,’ argued her husband.
‘That’s how a lot of our people th
ink of themselves,’ Hannah responded, ‘my father included. But even so…’ she trailed off, without concluding her argument.
In the end it did not matter, as events began to lend force to her concerns. It began towards the end of March with a phone call. Afterwards her husband came in from the hall and sat down, obviously deep in thought.
‘Who was it?’ she asked.
‘Your father,’ came the reply. ‘He’s worried about the SA.’
‘I have read something about them, they’re part of the NAZI party, aren’t they?’
He nodded. ‘Hitler started the organisation in 1921. Officially it was called the Sturm Abteilung, otherwise known as brown shirts because that was part of their uniform. Rumour has it that the Party got hold of them on the cheap because they were made to be sent out to our troops in the colonies, but when we lost the war, they were never used.’
‘Aren’t the SA supposed to provide security at party rallies?’ Hannah queried.
‘That’s the official justification,’ Günther confirmed. ‘But they recruited from the lower end of society – a lot of them former soldiers unemployed since the war. Now, in reality, they’re just a bunch of roughnecks that harass anyone they don’t like and particularly Jews. They’re so out of control even the Reichswehr is worried about them. And if our own Army is worried then things can’t be too good.’
‘So, what did Father have to say?’ Hannah asked. ‘Presumably that’s why he rang?’
‘He’s been meeting with some of his Jewish business friends,’ Günther replied. ‘Apparently, there have been a number of instances where the SA have put notices up outside Jewish businesses, mostly shops, saying things like “Don’t buy from Jews!” But there’s a big boycott being organised for 1st April in all our cities, and your father is concerned that things might get out of hand. So far, most people have ignored the SA demands, but he’s worried that his customers might get mistreated if they try to go into the restaurant on Saturday.’