But he only got as far as “Dearest.” For nine months now, it had been Hilde’s name that followed. Now his Hilde was gone. Pictures of her took over, and he folded his hands and indulged in daydreams of a better time. It took him many minutes before he returned to the gloomy reality.
Dearest Mother,
Thank you so much for doing so much for me; I feel guilty accepting all your gifts. Also, my companion Werner Krauss shares his warm meal with me every evening. I ask you not to send me more food because you need it yourself.
Please do not send me more than a tiny piece of cake once or twice a week. With the simple food here, just some oat flakes, sugar, and a piece of apple make a true feast. I have learned to appreciate the simple things in life since my arrival in prison.
As long as there’s enough dry bread and potatoes, and they always taste good, then any sweet is a sensation.
I fully understand if you or Hilde’s parents don’t want to write me anymore, now that my beloved Hilde had to leave this world.
Officially, you’re not allowed to know it. The official enforcement notice has been sent to the closest relative, which is Hilde’s mother, Annie Klein. I imagine you are not talking to her anymore?
Anyhow, I received her goodbye letter on August 12, but the fateful day was August 5. A good soul gave me the notice that very evening, and I had to live the whole week as if I didn’t know anything. But I will write you an official letter with the announcement as soon as I’m allowed.
Please let me know if my two little sons are well and happy.
How did they and the Dremmer family survive the horrible air raids over Hamburg? We have heard worrying news, but I have faith that those two innocent souls will survive this awful war.
For my part, I’m prepared for anything. Anything at all.
I’m numb to the dangers and the horrors around me. My only consolation is the knowledge that I will soon follow my beloved wife from this world.
All the atrocities happening around us, those that I couldn’t prevent, don’t frighten me anymore because I won’t be around long enough to experience them.
But you, my dear mother, wouldn’t it be better if you fled Berlin and tried to find a secure place in the countryside? Perhaps with your sister?
I ask this for a very selfish reason. I want you to stay alive for a very long time to help take care of my two innocent sons.
With the utmost gratitude, I heard the news that my brother and his wife have offered to care for them, if worst comes to worst. They have enough on their hands with their own four children. Therefore I am doubly thankful for the offer. Please give Gunther and Käthe my dearest wishes and all my love. They are such good people.
Can you let me know if poor Otto was imprisoned as well? He was a dear friend of mine, and I always thought the world of him, but I never let him in on my secret, so I hope with all my soul that he was not doomed because of my actions.
Otto and I had opposing political views, and he never agreed with my opinions about the Fatherland, treason, my fondness for Russia, and the communist idea. Nevertheless, I liked him very much, and I respected him as a scientist and wouldn’t want to cause him to choose between our friendship and his political opinions.
It was a hardship to hide my inner conviction from everyone around me, except for Hilde and Erhard. But I could not risk anyone’s getting caught in the maze of the powers just because I wanted someone to confide in and lighten my own burden.
I will tell you, my dear mother, that day in and day out, I feel horrible guilt for being the cause and reason of the death of my wife. I have thought hundreds and thousands of times that I should have protected her better.
Please tell my in-laws that I suggested this very thing to Hilde (leaving her after a feigned fight), but she wouldn’t let me. On the contrary, she told me she would stick with me in good times and bad times during life and until death do us part.
Her death has parted us, but I know that my death will reunite us forever.
My – our – life had become resignation and hardships, and therefore we decided to emigrate to America. My Russian friends never tried to talk me out of it, even though it was against their own best interest.
The war is now turning cruel, even on the careless Germans, who thought we were invincible. It is the difference in the experience whether you bomb the historic city of London with, at that time, superior weapons, or if you are now on the receiving end, enduring the tenfold of destruction by the now superior methods of the enemy.
In this country, the pain of others has never been important. There was no sympathy for their suffering. But true compassion has to be learned through our own pain.
This feeling of superiority and the arrogance of Germany is coming back with a vengeance,
But I do not expect a rebellion of our people against the futile war. No, it seems that at this time in history, the gods have decided that what has begun has to be ended. Our country has to drain the cup of sorrow. Until the bitter and complete defeat, when everything in our beautiful country has been bombed to ashes. Only then may we arise again to become a better nation.
I do not envy those of you who will be there. No, I believe my situation is much more comfortable. A fast and painless end. The situation will get much worse before it gets any better.
Later, you will be able to calculate how little time was missing for my beloved Hilde and myself to survive.
Even our Hitler, always thinking of his ridiculous ideas, will not want to survive a capitulation. He will not want to witness the formerly enthusiastic masses turning against him. He will search and find death on the battlefield, maybe even this year. In three months? In six months?
But you, my beloved and strong mother. Don’t be a coward. Stay alive courageously and learn from events. Stay alive for many years to come and enjoy your grandsons. Help them with emotional support should the harsh fate of their parents tear them down.
About my financial affairs, please talk to Gunther. I am the owner of several patents together with Otto. I hope that the Reich, during the short time it will still exist, doesn’t confiscate my part of them.
It is my wish that my children will inherit the rights and the royalties.
As soon as you have officially received the announcement of my death, please go to the patent office and try to put the names of my sons in there.
If this isn’t possible, don’t worry. I do not believe that this Reich of a Thousand Years will exist for more than a few more months, and as soon as everything has crumbled to dust, an indemnification of the verdict against Hilde and me will be issued.
Then I’m sure Gunther will be able to receive what rightfully belongs to my children.
For you, my dear mother, it is my explicit wish that whatever money remains from my means and what you might still possess from the envelope I gave you, shall be used for your needs as well. This letter is my testament; please keep it dear and safe.
If worst comes to worst I’m sure my Russian friends will help you out.
You have never stopped loving me, even when my opinions didn’t match yours. I’m grateful for your generosity because I wouldn’t want to leave this world knowing the woman who gave birth and raised me had stopped loving me. You have no idea how much this means to me.
One day, you might receive an invoice for about ten or twenty Reichsmark. It will say “for wine.” Please pay it; these are debts of mine that I couldn’t take care of due to the circumstances. And I wouldn’t want such a minor thing as death to hinder me from paying my debt.
I am in the process of tying up all loose ends, which I know can be agonizing for those remaining. If you want to know anything, please ask me. I hope I will still have some days of sanity left to answer your questions.
My moods are constantly changing. They are pretty accurately described in my last official letter. As you know, official letters must be much more careful than this one. We wouldn’t want to cause too much work for the censors
, would we?
As of now, I am well prepared for the “miracle of death” and not very vulnerable anymore to earthly sufferings. My suffering nerves are benumbed.
This is why I can eat and enjoy. At times, I feel an almost mystic union with this world. Almost religiously, like you.
My beloved little mother. The one thing I ask you is to always remember me honorably.
This is another goodbye. I don’t know of anything else to write at the moment. I have been writing this letter from eight in the morning to four in the afternoon.
Your – cursed by fate – son
Wilhelm
Chapter 45
On August twenty-third, Hilde’s birthday, Q received permission to write his monthly letter. For a moment, he stared at the guard with disbelief at this inhumane cruelty, but then nodded and took pen, ink, and paper. The guard couldn’t know.
He decided to write to the one person he had loved for all his life, and let her officially know about Hilde’s death.
Werner seemed to notice Q’s miserable mood and asked, “How are you holding up, my friend?”
“I couldn’t be better,” Q laughed sarcastically, “My sons are in the best hands with my in-laws, and I’m allowed to write down my research in the area of plant protection. What else could I ask for?”
“Freedom?” Werner asked with a shrug.
“Ha. Freedom is highly overrated. In here we have everything we need. No tedious household chores, no grocery shopping, and the – admittedly bad – meals are always punctual.”
Werner laughed out loud. “Well, if you see it from that point of view…we get enough sleep, have good books to read, and even get to do some manual labor.”
“See? The work they give us is even pleasurable.”
“Well, I wouldn’t classify labeling signs in a fancy type as pleasurable, but you’re right, it could be much worse.” Werner chuckled.
Q grew serious and fixed his eyes on Werner. Without his good comrade, he would have lost his mind months ago.
“I fully accept the right of my enemies to kill me, after the chuzpe I showed in my actions against them. And I die like so many others in this war, but I can say with pride that I have always been fighting against National Socialism and for a military defeat of Germany. My bad luck was being caught before the imminent end of war.”
“At least you have the satisfaction to be in good company. In the best.” Werner smirked and patted his chest.
“We all have to suffer the consequences of our actions, and I do it with pride. By now, I have had so much time to think about dying and how it will happen that it has lost its dread. Not many people in times like ours are allowed to die so quickly and without pain.” Q sighed. It was true.
Every day at noon, except on Saturday and Sunday, he waited for the executioners to come for him, to be killed later that evening. But while, in the beginning, he’d waited in deadly terror, this had transformed into angst, curiosity, and finally acceptance. Since Hilde’s death, it was like waiting to board the tram to reach his destination.
“By the way, my lawyer has told me that Hitler’s idea of my public hanging in front of the Loewe factory has been canceled. I would have hated that.”
“I guess you can thank our Russian friends for that. Rumor has it the government doesn’t want to compromise their radio deception efforts with Moscow,” Werner said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Our goal was to make an end of this regime in 1942, but it wasn’t meant to be.” Q stood and paced the room, running a hand through his longish curls. “Not for me, not for you, and not for millions of innocent people on both sides who will continue to be sacrificed until some pigheads are finally smashed against the concrete wall.”
Werner nodded. “At least we have the satisfaction that more and more people turn away from the praised ideals, despite the harshest sanctions and threats, leading up to the unhappy end of this whole lunatic undertaking.”
“Operation successful…patient and doctor dead.” Q laughed hysterically and started shouting, “I do not regret anything! Everything I see and hear fortifies me in my conviction! This government has to tumble! The Nazi bastards must be defeated!”
Worried, Werner approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hilde has forgiven you. You know that.”
Q looked into the sad eyes of his friend. “I know, but…” Q sobbed and fell onto his cot. “Today is her birthday...I miss her so much.”
Chapter 46
In the following week, he all but stopped doing his research work, and instead thought of ways to help those who had helped him by sending him money, food, or other necessities while he was in prison.
He intended to say goodbye to the world, and at the same time do a little good with his last actions. His situation didn’t allow him to offer any material help, but the one thing he had left was his conviction against Hitler and everything Nazi. This he would offer.
Germany would lose the war sooner or later, and he hoped that after the ultimate capitulation, his status as a traitor to the regime might benefit those he cared for even after his death.
Q made a list of those to whom he would write a secret message.
From his three closest friends, only Otto was – hopefully – at liberty. Jakob had died during the Reichskristallnacht, and Leopold, a traitor of the regime himself, had been sent to a concentration camp.
Gunther made it onto the list, as did Hilde’s parents in Hamburg. They would have to shoulder the main burden of raising two orphaned boys. Q’s heart grew heavy at that thought, but he shook it away. Now wasn’t the time to get sentimental.
His mother. Hilde’s mother. At the thought of Annie, he hesitated. His emotions toward her were mixed. But he would write one of his “recommendation letters” for her as well, for the sake of his boys.
The good director at the Biological Reichs Institute and several of his ex-colleagues. Martin, his partner-in-crime at Loewe. Q smiled at the memory of how Martin had proved his loyalty. He’d saved Q from being discovered by spilling a cup of coffee over the classified material Q had been copying.
Then he set out to write the first of those letters.
Dear Friend,
My adored wife has been executed already, and I am eager to follow her. My two boys are well cared for with my in-laws.
And now world history seems to agree with the opinion of my adored wife and myself about the Third Reich and its cataclysmic ado in the garden of God.
We die fighting National Socialism. We hope all of you will survive the bad times that will get all the survivors into hot water, even though not without your own (passive) fault.
In the joyful certainty that this day is not far and that my wife and myself belong to the martyrs of the victorious side, I am greeting you.
Keeping this letter is dangerous. Please do so only far away from your own house, far away from Berlin, to be recovered only when Germany has lost the war.
I want to write down my plea to my friends in the Soviet Union, but also the other Allies, to give you and your family their benevolence, because of your good nature and your goodwill to me.
To whomever it may concern, I recommend the person presenting this letter as a technical expert, a good person, able to help in rebuilding this country, meant to work for the good of the nation in the future.
Prison Plötzensee, Cell 140
2. September 1943
Wilhelm “Q” Quedlin
After sending at least a dozen similar secret messages, he leaned back, pondering what to do next. Life seemed so distant that he did not even find pleasure in his research work. Since the prison didn’t have blackout curtains, there was a strict no-light rule in place from dusk to dawn. In early September, the sunlight faded into darkness shortly after dinner.
The next night, Q went to sleep with a satisfied feeling of someone who had organized his legacy, only to be awakened by the shrill noise of the air raid sirens.
Werner jumped down
from the upper bunk bed at the same time Q heard panicked yelling from the guards and the other prisoners. He and Werner huddled beneath the table, pulling one of the mattresses around them in an effort to avoid being hit by pieces of falling plaster and concrete.
The hours passed, and the attack became worse. It was the most awful bombing they had ever experienced. A deafening noise indicated that several shells must have landed directly on the prison structure. Q coughed from the dust filling the tiny cell. The thick old prison walls shook like autumn leaves in the wind.
Another direct hit exploded somewhere nearby. Q ducked beneath the mattress and covered his ears until the smell of smoke made him look up. Torn open by the force of the explosion, the unhinged metal cell door swung back and forth.
“Look!” Q hissed. In the hallway rampaged a fire.
“We have to get out, or we’ll burn alive,” Werner yelled.
Heat and smoke filled the hallway as Q and Werner fled their cell. Many of the cell doors had cracked open, but others were still locked. Q heard the spine-chilling cries of agony from his fellow prisoners, begging for someone to rescue them, as the deadly smoke seeped beneath the doors of the cells.
But the guards had fled the cell block and sought shelter many hours earlier. There was no way to unlock the doors. Q cast a last glance backward as Werner dragged him down the stairs into the courtyard.
Shell after shell detonated in a blinding explosion and rocked not only the building but also the very foundations the prison was built on. The entire city of Berlin glowed with fire.
The Apocalypse had arrived.
Many prisoners in different states of shock gathered in the courtyard. Q ducked against the treacherous security of the wall, hoping – no, praying – that the dropping shells would stop.
It wasn’t until the morning light arrived that his wish became reality. When the smoke settled, Q saw nothing but ashes and debris where buildings once stood. A huge part of the cellblock in House III, including the adjacent execution building, had been destroyed.
Unwavering: Love and Resistance in WW2 Germany Page 18