‘I will look after them,’ he said. ‘Please come and see us again when this is all over.’ Lotte stayed in his comforting embrace for a few precious seconds longer. She kissed him on the cheek and then taking her rucksack in one hand and Wolfi’s lead in the other, she walked away. She thought about waiting to see the boys safely up the rock, but knew that might distract Hannah. By now her father was already at the foot of the rock.
Peter watched as his good friends disappeared from view. Any worries he had about Wolfi leaving him were unfounded. Once more the clever dog had seemed to know what the situation required.
‘Good luck both of you.’ Peter’s hopes remained unspoken.
‘No time to hang around,’ Jürgen said brusquely.
Peter and Franz looked on nervously as Jürgen reached up to the first hand hold with his left hand and lifted his right foot onto the rock. With no apparent effort he gracefully moved higher and higher, stopping periodically to place a piton in the rock, and then attach the rope with a carabiner. Hannah was firmly strapped to his back and as instructed, her eyes were tightly shut. Peter and Franz had suggested that she be hauled up once Jürgen was safely in position, but he had refused. There was a danger the rope might snag and it would be difficult for him to do anything about if from above. Climbing down was much more difficult than climbing up.
In an amazingly short time, Jürgen was standing on a ledge halfway up the face, lassooed to the rock, encouraging Franz to start the ascent. Peter was to follow up last as he had some experience. Hannah was still strapped securely to Jürgen’s back with her eyes closed.
Franz hesitated. He looked up at the wall of rock. How he wished they could have used the crampons, but there was insufficient ice to dig in the metal spikes. He had been nervous not scared when he had rescued Peter from the Gestapo. Now he was terrified. He had been unable to admit it: he was scared of heights. Peter sensed his fear.
‘It’s all right, Franz,’ he said, laying his hand on Franz’s trembling shoulder. ‘If you want you can go with Lotte and Wolfi. You will easily catch them up.’
Franz had contemplated this course, but knew it would be harder for Lotte to pull off her deception. He also had a visa for Switzerland, though as a forgery it might be unwise to submit it to too close an inspection in the circumstances. Especially as the reason for his trip was given as ‘recouperating from his war wounds’.
Telling himself to stop being so cowardly, Franz gingerly touched the cold surface of the rock. Tentatively he felt for a hand hold. As he began to climb he shouted up to Jürgen, ‘Climbing.’
‘Just remember,’ Peter said, ‘nothing can happen as the rope will hold you.’
Franz moved at a snail’s pace up the face until he was almost three quarters of the way to the belay point. At times he struggled to grip the rock with the soles of his boots, yet he persevered. At one point his feet gave way from under him. Jürgen had a tight hold of the rope and had taken in the slack and a nervous Franz found his footing again. His whole body shook as he moved first one limb then another and the adrenalin raced around his body. Forty minutes after he had begun, Franz clambered onto the ledge.
‘Well done lad. Now stand over there.’ Jürgen pointed behind him.
It was now Peter’s turn. In spite of the long years since early childhood when he had last climbed, he remembered the moves and techniques his father had taught him. In about the same time as Jürgen, he had reached the ledge.
‘Great climbing Peter.’ Jürgen was clearly impressed with this boy from the city.
The second pitch was a little easier and considerably faster. Franz was still nervous, but managed to keep his footing and his head. In a surprisingly short time all four were at the top. Jürgen coiled the rope and fastened it to the straps on his rucksack. Franz had finally stopped shaking. He was sitting well back from the cliff edge.
‘Good girl Hannah. Good girl,’ Peter said, bending over to see her. Her eyes were now wide awake and taking in everything around her.
‘I hope Lotte and Wolfi are safe.’ Franz expressed the sentiments of them all.
They need not have worried. It was still some distance to the road that led to the border crossing. The weather was sunny and bright and Lotte and Wolfi simply enjoyed their surroundings. The walk was really quite pleasant. They made excellent progress, in spite of the snow and just before dusk they arrived at the first check point.
‘Hello boys. So pleased to see such fit young men guarding us.’
Lotte was at the Austrian side of the border. The checkpoint was manned by three young soldiers, not even out of their teens. Their uniforms drowned them and their rifles looked enormous. They gave every appearance of toy soldiers. Lotte was used to wooing a crowd and had little difficulty in convincing the three boys about her story. They barely examined her visa and she was soon in the nomansland strip, walking towards the Swiss checkpoint.
Here she had a little more difficulty. The sentry was a balding, middle-aged official who was fed up sitting in a cold sentry box. Lotte’s charms had little effect on him. He was more interested in the end of his shift and his evening meal. ‘These mountains are no place for a woman on her own,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘I am not on my own. I have my dog and he is a better companion than any man,’ Lotte replied. Unimpressed the official stamped her passport and without further comment, she and Wolfi marched across the border.
That evening they dined alone in a small hotel on the side of the Bodensee. After a dessert of coffee and delicious cream cakes, with Wolfi watching, she dialled Berta’s number.
‘Berta? Berta? It’s Lotte. I am at a hotel in Switzerland. Just over the border.’
‘Lotte! Lotte darling! Tell me the address and we will drive over and pick you up straight away. Have you got my special gift?’
‘No the others are travelling separately. I must wait here for them as arranged, darling Berta. Be patient! If all goes well we shall see each other tomorrow.’
‘Oh! All right, but make it soon, dear Lotte.’ Berta was disappointed, but she knew it was the wisest course of action.
* * *
Having reached the summit of the rock face it was a further four hours of almost constant trudging until Peter and the others found themselves looking down upon a welcome sight. It was the shimmering surface of Bodensee. They were in the hills above Lauterach. Fortunately there had been no more climbing required and the crampons had not been used. From their position they had a clear view of the lake and the surrounding countryside.
Jürgen pointed into the distance towards the lake. ‘Just to the left of the large crag with the single tree on top is where you should cross the border. It will be dark soon. Make your way there as close as you dare and as quickly as possible. Wait until dark and then cross over where I have shown you.’
He bade farewell to Peter and Franz before bending down to speak to Hannah. ‘Look after my Lotte for me. And don’t worry you will see her again soon.’ He reached out to take Hannah’s hand in his and as he did, she clasped her arms around his neck and kissed him. For the first time in years Lotte’s father blushed.
Darkness fell quite early and just an hour after leaving Jürgen, Peter, Franz and Hannah were crouched behind a rock, looking towards the lake’s edge. The little girl was perfectly still and silent. For her the game had continued.
In the distance some half a kilometre away the dim lights of a sentry’s hut were visible. It was a cold night and so far the guards had shown little desire to leave the warmth of their shelter. Moonbeams reflected on the lake which lit their way forward.
‘Now Hannah. If you can keep quiet until I tell you, you will be the winner. Okay?’ Hannah moved her head up and down in response to Peter’s question. Somehow she knew not to speak.
‘Good girl. Now let me carry you. Don’t worry Franz will be right behind.’
As Peter and Franz sneaked slowly closer to the lake’s edge he wondered at how light the little girl wa
s. That would hopefully soon change. They edged forward one cautious step at a time. Peter’s heart was racing. He was certain the others, including the sentries must be able to hear it.
After what seemed an eternity the two boys and their young charge were right by the water’s edge. The only sound was the gently lapping water in the slight breeze. Peter crouched low to the ground and signalled to Franz to follow suit.
‘Listen Hannah,’ Peter whispered, this is the last part of our game. Do you see that big boulder over there?’ Hannah nodded vigorously.
‘Do you think you can crawl to that rock without making any noise and without being seen?’
Again Hannah nodded and without waiting further, she began to crawl quickly, but quietly. When a few minutes later she was safely behind the large boulder, Peter began to crawl after her. Just moments later Franz began the same scramble along the ground. Metres from safety Franz stopped.
‘Grrr! Grr!’ The German shepherd’s growl carried across the open space from the sentry box. Franz froze. As he pondered what to do next a sentry’s voice made the decision for him.
‘Ach you stupid dog. It’s only moonlight. Inside now.’ He turned and pulled the dog away, still growling.
‘You should listen to your dog,’ Peter thought, glad at the sentry’s stupidity.
Franz clambered the last few metres to his friends and fell behind the rock exhausted. They rested for just ten minutes. Peter lifted Hannah in his arms and the three walked quickly away from the border. At last they were in Switzerland!
By ten o’clock that evening Franz, Peter and Hannah had safely arrived in the village where Lotte was staying. Fortunately the last stage of the journey was much easier than they had anticipated. The guards were unable, and in many cases unwilling, to try and patrol the whole of the border, let alone anywhere more than a kilometre from the border itself. They had not seen anyone else. A short walk and the three fugitives were outside a hotel room. Peter knocked on the door. On his back Hannah had fallen asleep. Inside the room Wolfi barked and bobbed up and down boisterously.
Lotte opened the door and flung her arms around Peter and Hannah. Hannah stirred momentarily, then fell asleep once more.
‘Oh thank goodness you’re safe,’ Lotte cried, tears in her eyes. Wolfi had wedged himself between Peter and Lotte with his tail thumping against their legs. She hugged Franz before ushering them all into the room.
Peter and Franz rented a second room. The owner, unused to such late night arrivals, was grateful for the extra business. Hannah was still hidden from view. Even though they were now in neutral territory, it was too close to the border for her to be seen. As they were due to go back to Germany they could not afford to be spotted with a smuggled Jew, as return might then be impossible.
* * *
The reunion with Berta the next day was very emotional. She and her husband arrived by car almost as soon as they had finished breakfast. Aunt Berta almost suffocated her two boys as she pressed them tightly to her.
‘Oh, my boys. How you have grown! How handsome you are!’ she repeated over and over. All the while Wolfi bounced around her impatiently. In her enthusiasm Berta had almost forgotten about the ‘special gift’.
When the hubbub had died down, Berta and Lotte embraced warmly, saying very little. Lotte stepped to one side to reveal the tiny Hannah. Hannah was uncharacteristically shy. Berta stooped down to her level and said, ‘Hello my little treasure. I am Aunty Berta. What’s your name?’
‘Hannah,’ the little girl replied and stepped behind Lotte.
With some encouragement from Lotte, Hannah allowed Berta to cuddle her. Within minutes she was sitting on her knee in the back of the car as they drove to Berta’s house. Wolfi was stretched out on Peter and Franz’s lap and Lotte sat in the passenger seat. Much though she loved her good friend Berta, Lotte could not help feel a bit jealous. Something inside her still longed to protect ‘her little girl’.
They spent a full month at Berta’s house. Lotte was able to travel to her parents at Oberstdorf as it was so close. With Hannah safely in Switzerland she could travel openly as a German citizen. Peter was reunited with an object especially important to him: it was the walking stick with Wolfi’s head carved on top that Franz had made in their camp. Berta had kept it for him. Peter took it with him on all their long walks in the hills, something which pleased Franz immensely.
After her initial hesitation Hannah was as smitten with Berta as Berta was with her. In just the few weeks of freedom the little girl had changed. She behaved much more as a young child should. She played outdoors with Wolfi where they made snowmen and went sledging. She never missed a walk with Peter’s dog. She quickly learnt how to ski and terrorised the others with the speed she flew down the slopes. Most pleasing of all, she started to put on weight with her improved diet and the treats that Berta lavished on her: ice creams, cakes of all descriptions, especially chocolate and real Swiss truffles. As her weight increased and her happiness grew she also became more talkative. She still could or would not disclose what had happened to her in the past, but otherwise she was a chatterbox.
Aunt Berta had never been happier. She had been dispossessed of her fine home in Berlin. Much of their wealth had been lost. She and her husband were living in exile and seldom able to see old friends. In spite of all of this Berta was overjoyed. Of course she was thrilled that her friends, including Wolfi, were there. There was one single overwhelming cause of her happiness: Hannah. Never had she believed that someone so young and so small could have such an impact. Berta wanted to adopt her, but knew she would have to wait. And of course there was Lotte. She had never shown the slightest maternal instinct in her life. The short time she had cared for Hannah had changed her. Lotte and Berta were very good friends and neither would allow that to alter. For the time being the issue would not arise as Lotte was returning to Berlin. She had agonised for many weeks, finally deciding she could not leave Peter and Franz.
‘At least I will visit Hannah regularly,’ she consoled herself, ‘and for months at a time.’ Even the ever optimistic Lotte knew this was impractical.
On the 10th February 1944 Peter and Franz were leaning out of the window of a passenger train bound for Berlin. They were at the station in St. Gallen, Switzerland. They had said an emotional farewell to Hannah and Berta at Berta’s home. Now they must say goodbye to Lotte, if only for the next month. As usual Lotte’s appearance attracted the attention of many people, especially men, but she did not notice. She was focussed on Peter and Franz. Against her wishes they were returning to Berlin alone and with a number of important items hidden in their luggage: more ink for forging documents and chemicals for developing photographs, disguised as bottles of alcohol. They both had their forged travel permits and identity documents and passports. Carefully secreted in the lining of one of the cases was a genuine document, a Swiss passport. Franz had a new idea how to rescue more people and he could not wait to put it into operation.
Lotte reached up to the open window as the guard blew his whistle and waved his red flag and the train moved off. ‘Be careful boys. I will see you soon,’ she said, waving to them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Oh thank heavens. Thank heavens!’ Lotte said over and over. Peter and Franz were silent. Wolfi looked on, happy to be with his friends. The Professor stared at the radio, taking in the news. The old valve radio set in the corner of the room was barely audible. It had to be that way. No-one must know that they were listening to the BBC. Again the broadcaster repeated the news that was so welcome.
‘Early this morning Allied forces landed on the beaches of Normandy and have progressed inland.’ The Allied invasion had begun. The Nazi war machine was on the retreat in Europe.
Peter and Franz had been back in their Berlin apartment for three and a half months. In that time their frustration grew almost daily. For both of them it had become even more difficult to travel openly. They were clearly of military age and apparently fit. The war w
as going badly for Germany. They should be at the front or at sea. The excuse that they were on leave would only succeed so many times. They even had to avoid contact with Lotte’s neighbours, any one of whom was capable of reporting them to the authorities.
As a consequence the Professor made most trips around the capital, normally by bicycle. The resistance consisted mainly of distributing ration cards or money to a network of u-boats. Most were in hiding with friends. Many moved every few days to lessen the risk of detection. For all of them life was extremely hard. At least with money to buy food on the black market they had some hope of survival. For now there was still a thriving black market, although all of them knew that could not last forever.
‘Do you think it will work?’ Franz asked Peter. Both were delighted with the news of the invasion. But they had learned to be cautious in their optimism, lest this be just another false dawn. Meanwhile their work must continue.
On the coffee table Franz had spread out a pile of passports, Swiss passports. All of them forged. Unable to venture outside on a regular basis, Franz had been very busy. His skills as a forger had only improved with practice.
‘They are very convincing. But how do we get the new owners to the border? The train is too dangerous. We can’t hide them all in trunks.’ Peter’s pessimism was not unfounded. On their journey back from Switzerland a talkative train conductor had been asking about the ships they had served on. His son was also in the navy. It had been too close for comfort.
As Peter examined the passports more closely he noticed something quite unusual. ‘They are nearly all children and quite young children,’ he said surprised.
‘That’s right. All of them are in hiding with one parent or both. Even though it is hard, the parents agree we should help them escape to Switzerland,’ Franz explained, ‘the Professor has been in contact with all of them.’
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