When Q was told he was allowed one letter every month, he didn’t have to think for one second to whom this letter would go. He sat down immediately and poured his soul onto the single sheet of paper he’d been given.
An hour later, he put it in the envelope – unsealed – and wrote Hilde’s name on it. He had no idea where she was being held captive and put the word Gefängnis, prison, beneath her name. The censors would know where to send it.
His mother-in-law, Annie, had kept her promise to Hilde and sent him a package with food and money – no doubt his own money. The accompanying letter was curt and distant. Q unerringly read between the lines that she blamed him for Hilde’s death sentence.
And she is right. It’s my fault that Hilde was arrested. I should have…would have…
Whenever he thought about Hilde’s fate, his thoughts went down a vicious spiral. It didn’t matter that she’d forgiven him; he would never do the same.
Q broke the train of thought and came back to the present, stashing the money in his underwear. It wasn’t that he distrusted Werner, but you never knew who might search the cell. A bundle of banknotes would be prone to disappear.
He carefully rationed the money to purchase things he found necessary for his continued sanity. In prison, he’d started smoking. It was a good way to occupy his hands and keep the constant hunger at bay.
But most of the money he spent on Kassiber, secret messages, to his family. Today was one of those days, and he stirred from his meanderings when the door to his cell opened.
“You wanted to speak with me,” the young officer said quietly, motioning for Q to come closer.
“I have need of paper, pen, and ink,” Q answered with an equally low voice.
The officer squinted his eyes and told him the price. Q stuck his hand in his pocket to retrieve a banknote and handed it to the officer, grateful that Annie had relinquished her hatred of him long enough to help him from the outside.
“I’ll be back within the hour.” The officer took the money and disappeared.
Later that afternoon, with his purchased pen, ink, and paper, he wrote a letter to Annie, thanking her for her benevolence.
The following day, he purchased more paper, and with too much idle time on his hands, he began to jot down his thoughts. His scientific brain needed exercise, and he took up his previous work in the area of plant protection and pest management. Without a laboratory or any kind of material, all he did was think and try to solve the problems in theory. Then he would send his conclusions to befriended scientists and wait for their answer as to whether the theory held up to a practical test.
Werner proved to be a valuable friend and discussion partner. With nothing else to do, they argued about everything under the sun. Despite not being a scientist, Werner always listened intently when Q bounced off his ideas about plant protection. Several times, he made remarks that helped Q to continue with his research.
But Werner also had a project of his own in the works. His mind was as sharp as Q’s, just in a different field. As a literary professor, he had full power over words and scathing wit. In the boredom of prison life, he soon started to write a satirical novel that he called Die Passionen der halkyonischen Seele – The Passions of a Halcyon Soul.
Q was thoroughly impressed with the ingenuity of the novel’s hidden side blows to the Nazi regime. Its protagonist was an air force officer, and it took Q only the first chapter to find out who’d been the model for the protagonist: Harro Schulze-Boysen.
While Q always teased Werner about his fine arts, he actually loved the idea and enjoyed reading or listening to the chapters as they took form. The hidden messages in the novel were powerful and mundane at the same time.
“When the Nazis are gone, your book will become a standard work, I’m sure,” Q said.
“Oh, this is only the first draft. It must be polished before it will be good,” Werner hedged, full of the insecurities of any writer in the world.
“I give Hitler another year or two at most,” Q said, choosing to ignore Werner’s remark.
“The war is plain crazy,” Werner agreed. “And every time they plug a hole in one place, two new ones appear somewhere else. I can’t see how Germany can hold up much longer.”
Q still wasn’t allowed visitors thanks to Kriminalkommissar Becker’s intervention. But Werner was, and each time he came back from those meetings with a renewed sense of hope.
A hope that the Nazi reign of terror was coming to an end. But would it come soon enough to save them?
Chapter 21
Hilde held in her hands a letter. From Q.
She reverently opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper. Compact writing filled both sides. Reading his words, her heart filled with love and gratitude while her eyes filled with tears.
My dearest Hilde,
While I’m writing this, my heart is full of eternal love for you. You were the best thing that happened to me, and I couldn’t have wished for a better companion. Despite the war and everything else that happened, those were the most wonderful nine years in my life, and I wouldn’t want to miss one minute of them.
When my time to leave this earth arrives, I will go grateful and happy to have enjoyed everything a man can ask for. With you.
But at the same time, my soul is riddled with remorse. Words cannot express the depth of my guilt over your fate. It is entirely my fault that you’re in this awful situation. It was never my intent to hurt you or cause you any pain and, believe me, I would gladly give my life to spare yours. If I had known the terrible consequences, I would never have asked you to type those fateful papers.
You are with me every waking second of every day. I miss you. Your smile, your sweet voice, your quick wit. Everything. My mind is consumed with thoughts of you.
Hilde stopped reading, and a smile tugged at her lips. She didn’t doubt that Q often thought about her, but the moment the next technical problem caught his curiosity, he forgot all about the world around him, including her.
It had happened countless times during their time together, and she’d learned to accept it as a part of him. Hilde was convinced that not even his incarceration could change the way his brain worked.
She wiped her eyes and continued to read…
Fate has been a cruel trickster. It has given me what I most desired, then taken it away. By my own hand.
Unfortunately, there was no easy way out for us. The powers that be didn’t allow us to leave everything behind and start a new comfortable life in America. How I wish that had occurred. Many times, I wondered exactly which powers had an influence. Earthly powers? Celestial powers? Or pure coincidence? Bad luck? We will never know.
Hilde stopped again, wondering what their lives might have been like in America. After a while, she shook her head. Dwelling on what-ifs was counterproductive and would only bring about sadness and depression.
She picked up the letter and finished reading Q’s words…
In hindsight, it’s easy to see that if we had visited my cousin Fanny in summer 1939 as we had planned, we’d never have returned to Germany because of the outbreak of the war.
Now I tend to believe it was more than inconsequential luck. We were meant to stay here. We were meant for greater things. It is just unfortunate that you, my dearest Hilde, got caught up in my destiny and are now paying for my convictions with your life.
My friends and I were fighting for a good cause. For a better world. The world of peace and equal opportunities. A world without war. But destiny had different things in mind.
It seems that the world has still to learn a lesson. A lesson that must include the horrors of war to give way to a better future, of mankind rising like a phoenix from the ashes, when everything that is bad and evil has been burnt down to the ground, and the fire has fertilized the soil for good things to grow.
On the subject of our children, I have every confidence they will be fine with your father and Emma. Volker and Peter love their grandpa
rents, and they will have a happy life with them.
Annie has kindly sent me a package with food and some necessities. If you have the chance to express my thanks to her, please do so.
While I am resigned to my sentence, I still have hope that yours will not be enforced. So many convicted have received clemency. Please stay strong and never lose your inner sunshine.
I’m counting the seconds until I receive your letter. In four weeks from now, you will hear from me again.
My love, until next time. Think of me and know that my love surrounds you and will never die, even if my body does.
Forever,
Q
Hilde wiped her eyes and tucked the letter into her pocket. She touched it whenever she felt lonely and the reality of her circumstances became overwhelming.
One of those days, she and Margit were talking when the male prisoners from the adjacent building had their one free hour in the courtyard. Snippets of conversation floated inside through the tiny open window.
“I’ll hang myself if this continues much longer,” a male voice said.
“And what with exactly?” another voice answered.
“…can’t take it anymore…the uncertainty…”
Hilde stood and closed the window. “Pour souls. You wouldn’t think so, but the imprisonment is so much harder on the men.”
“Just last night, I heard a newcomer scream and clamor in his dreams,” Margit added.
When the night was clear and there were no enemy bombers in the sky, the prison walls echoed and amplified even the slightest noise.
“It’s not the danger or death lurking around the corner. These are not the bad things. The real bad thing is the uncertainty, not knowing what will happen to you. It’s what starts eating you up from the inside. The isolation in the cell. The hunger. Every one of those men over there would rather go to a concentration camp or a real prison than stay one day longer here on death row.” Hilde stopped talking when she noticed Margit’s pale face. She put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, you’ll get out of here.”
Margit nodded. “I will. I must.”
Later in the afternoon, they heard the sound of breaking glass. It came from across the courtyard and was followed by an eerie wolf-like howl.
“It’s from the men’s building,” Margit stated.
“Yes.” Hilde didn’t want to think about what exactly had happened; she retrieved Q’s letter from her pocket. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply, savoring the lingering smell of her husband.
“You adore the letter more than the man,” Margit teased her.
Hilde breathed in the scent again and smiled. “I would much prefer the man, but what can I do? This letter is all I have, and so adore it I will.”
Chapter 22
Today was Q’s fortieth birthday. He held a letter from his wife in his hands and thought he couldn’t have asked for anything nicer this day. He turned the envelope over in his hands for several long moments before he slit it open and withdrew the sheet of paper.
Despite knowing better, he hesitated to read the words. What if she had changed her mind and was angry with him, or condemned him for getting her into this situation? What if she never wanted to write to him again?
His fingers trembled as he smoothed the letter open on his lap. When he could no longer stand the uncertainty, he looked down and began to read…
My dearest Q,
Oh, how my heart rejoiced to receive your letter. I keep it with me at all times and let my fingers caress the paper as if it was your cheek. At night, the letter comforts me in my loneliness, and it is as if you were with me.
I love you with every fiber of my body, and I will always be faithful to the love we share.
Please do not feel guilty about causing my harsh fate. I absolve you from all of it. Yes, I have felt desperate in recent days, but I would never have wanted to forgo the wonderful times with you by my side.
That said, I want you to know that I do not condone your activities against the Reich. If I had known about your intentions, I would have found a way to make you change your mind.
Q stared at the paper in disbelief, the letters dancing in front of his eyes until it dawned on him, and he grinned. Werner wasn’t the only person who could write with hidden messages. Hope you had fun reading this, dear censors.
He traced his fingers across the paper, bringing Hilde’s sweet face back to his memory. He could actually see her standing in front of him, one hand on her hip, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. His heart filled with emotion.
But I want to stay by your side always, like I promised on our wedding day. In good times and bad times. In life and until death do us part. None of us are promised only happiness, and I never worried about bad times, because I had you, my love. Although I didn’t expect death to come so soon.
It’s funny really. You used to joke about us growing old and doddery. And I imagined us reaching our eightieth year with a multitude of experiences to tell our grandchildren, but it looks like that is not to be.
I hope your health is much improved and that you are finding an outlet for your brilliant mind. Mother Annie is allowed to visit me one hour every month, and I pleaded with her to give you as much help as she wished to give me. As you can imagine, she’s not very fond of you at the moment, but I am relieved she did send you some much-needed things.
Even though I know from her that Volker and Peter are fine and healthy with Emma and my father, I worry about them every day. How could a mother not worry when she’s separated from her children?
My rational mind tells me that Emma and my father are showering them with love and affection and will do everything to make their harsh fate as bearable as possible, but my heart tells me that only I can give them the motherly love they need.
A smear blurred some letters, and Q sighed. He knew exactly what strained her conscience so much. Hilde had vowed to never let her children suffer the same fate she had – growing up without a loving mother.
All he could do was repeat over and over that Emma and Carl would do their best until Hilde – by some miracle – was released from prison and was free to return to her children.
I am looking forward to your next letter. Please tell me everything you do, even the tiniest details. It is my only way to be with you and to imagine being by your side.
All my love forever,
Hilde
Q dropped the letter to his lap and closed his eyes. With his inner eye, he reread her sentences many times and savored the warmth and love in her words. Hilde is still alive, and she still loves me. That was all that mattered.
Nobody knew what the future held, or how long it would last, but right now, Q was happy. Hilde’s letter was the best birthday present he could have asked for.
Chapter 23
A few weeks later, Hilde had another visitor. Her lawyer, Herr Müller, had come to speak with her. She’d not seen or heard from him since the day of her sentencing and wondered what news he would bring.
Hilde did her best to suppress the rising hope, out of fear she might be disappointed. Once again, she found herself in the small visiting room.
“Good day, Frau Quedlin,” he greeted her with a handshake.
“Good day, Herr Müller. What news do you bring?”
“I’m afraid not much,” he apologized, but after taking a look at her disappointed face, he hurried to add, “and that is good news. Actually, no news is good news. I was waiting for the dust to settle before making my next move.”
“The plea for mercy, right?” Hilde fidgeted in her seat.
“Well, that’s what I wanted to discuss with you. I have weighed the alternatives and have come to the conclusion that we should reconsider our original plan to ask for a plea of mercy.”
“What? Why?” Hilde asked, not quite following his lengthy sentence.
“In the current political climate, we might have a better chance of success asking for a revision of your sentence. It was
unusually harsh, and a more benign judge might reduce it to one or two years of prison.”
“You think so?” Hilde’s voice was full of hope. Several months ago, two years of prison would have terrified her, but now it sounded like a merciful option.
“I can’t promise anything, but it has been done before. It would help, though, if you had influential friends who would support your claim and speak on your behalf. The kind of friends with a Party book and rank.”
The only person who came to her mind was Erika, who had married the son of an SS-Obersturmbannführer. But Erika’s father-in-law was dead and her husband somewhere in occupied France.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of friends.” Hilde shook her head.
“Unfortunate, but we will proceed on our own then. I believe you have a good case for a revision. There’s no real evidence of your involvement in any kind of resistance or sabotage activities.”
“I hope so.” Her shoulders sagged as she tried to kindle the spark of hope inside her.
“On a happier note, your mother has asked Kriminalkommissar Becker for permission to bring your son Volker with her the next time she visits.”
Hilde jumped up, excitement burning like fire on her skin. “She did that? When will I see him?”
“He’s not yet given a definitive answer, but he seems inclined to grant his permission.”
Hilde wanted to throw herself into Herr Müller’s arms and kiss him. He seemed to suspect some kind of exuberant reaction from her because he clutched his briefcase against his chest warily.
She suppressed the need to cry out in joy, and instead said, “Please give my mother my sincerest thanks for that undertaking.”
Unwavering: Love and Resistance in WW2 Germany Page 9