by Helen Burko
“I also have two sisters, Magda and Terezka, twins who were born one year after Franzel. They should be twenty by now, if they’re alive, and they were even then very beautiful.
“When I speak of them, it arouses a deep yearning, which lately attacks me more and more. My only dream, until now, had been to return once more to the home I left when war broke out with Russia in 1941.
“I was twenty-one when I finished my studies at Berlin University, where I majored in linguistics because, even as a child, I displayed a talent for languages.
“Because I had so many siblings, I was raised and educated almost entirely by my aunt, Gerta Hoffman, a widow who lived in Berlin. She was a piano and dance teacher. Her husband had been an officer in the Wehrmacht and was killed in an automobile accident without leaving any offspring. At first, my aunt loved me very much. She knew English and French and taught me those while I was still a child. She had a lover, Michael Nikitin, who was an officer in the army of the Russian czar, Nicholas, and who had fled Russia after the revolution. Nikitin was a professor of philology and history at Berlin University and also taught the Russian language privately to students.
“From Nikitin I learned Russian and spoke it so well that he told my Aunt Gerta my accent was better than his and that, if he had not known I was the daughter of a German family, he would have believed I was a native Russian.
“Of course that was an exaggerated compliment, but without a doubt, I was talented in languages and especially in Russian, which I particularly liked because most Germans find it difficult to overcome the accent, and I spoke it perfectly, as if I had been born a Russian. I was proud of the fact and made a special effort to learn it.
“The professor was very fond of me—so much so that my aunt became jealous, as absurd as it was. I always enjoyed it when someone became angry because of me, and like all young and pretty girls, I liked to arouse jealousy. He did everything he could so I would like him even though the role of father fitted him better than that of lover.
“My aunt became more and more jealous. I spent entire days chattering with Nikitin in Russian, a language she disliked, and it angered her so much that she finally stated, ‘I don’t like to hear the language, as I don’t understand it.’
“But she would try to say a few phrases in Russian that Nikitin had taught her and laugh and joke about how badly she pronounced the words.
“Nikitin was a tall, sturdy man with wide shoulders and a large mustache that was his pride and joy. He had the sharp features of the Russian nobility. From him I learned the Russian customs and manners. When he was under the influence of too much vodka, he forgot his fine manners and would even teach me Russian songs and dances. I especially liked the hopak dance.
“My Aunt Gerda was an elegant woman in her middle years and the opposite of her brother, my father, who was a large man and a successful farmer. My mother was also an elegant woman who wasn’t suited to be a farmer’s wife, and people who also knew my aunt took them to be sisters. My mother was the daughter of a train manager in the town of Abersberg. She loved life, unlike my grim father, and she was flighty and coquettish. Perhaps that was because she was too beautiful. I inherited both from her, beauty and love of life. My father loved my mother, but she would deceive him with a lover, a sergeant she met in Berlin. My mother loved soldiers, and that was maybe why she didn’t object when I joined the Hitler Youth.
“I should, however, tell you first things first and last things last. I want to tell you more about the years I spent in my aunt’s house because those were my happiest childhood years. I’ll always remember them, although they are the years that influenced me the most and resulted in my being here now.
“As I told you, my aunt wasn’t overjoyed to see Nikitin indulging me and praising my beauty. Once, when I came home from school—I was fifteen and pretty—Nikitin came home, and when he saw that my aunt wasn’t there, he hugged me and kissed me passionately. I was standing in front of the mirror, combing my hair, and at first, his kiss didn’t surprise me because I was used to him kissing me on the forehead, but this was on the lips and had an entirely different meaning, and I saw that he turned pale. I ran away from him, but he ran after me and caught me. I laughed wildly because his excited manner amused me. I was proud that my beauty had so aroused him. My laughter inflamed him even more. He threw me on the bed and began to fondle me. When I realized what he wanted, I slapped him on the face with all my might. His cheek turned red and the strength of my resistance confused him.
“Before I could run away, there was the sound of the key in the front door, and my aunt entered, carrying numerous bundles she had bought in the stores and looking very tired. When the professor heard her, he ran to her and helped her with the packages, but my aunt sensed his confusion and asked, ‘Has Mathilda returned from school yet?’
“‘Ma-Mathilda? Yes, she’s in the next room,’ he said and could hardly hide his agitation.
“I came out of the room, all flustered and disheveled, and when she saw my condition, she looked at Nikitin’s red cheek, and then back to me.
“‘What are you so flustered about? Look at you!’
“‘We had gym at school today. You know how much I like sport,’ I said fearlessly as I told my first big lie.
“‘So!’ she commented. ‘Yes, I know how wild you are! You don’t know what to do with that temperament of yours.’
“‘She really is wild,’ confirmed Nikitin with a rueful smile as he patted his red cheek as though to erase my slap. I smiled and went into my room, but from that day on, my aunt was more and more vigilant. I hated her close attention, and when school ended, I went home to Bernau during my vacation.
“I must confess I wasn’t too fond of my birthplace in spite of its natural charm. I was strongly attracted to the big city, and from time to time, I would travel to Berlin or to Abersberg, where my mother’s parents and my father’s family lived.
“Once, something occurred that convinced me it was better to stand my aunt’s surveillance than listen to my frivolous mother’s sickly sweet words.
“It happened in the evening, on a Sunday. My father and the children went to Abersberg to visit the family, and I went to Berlin to enjoy myself. My mother said she was staying home because she didn’t feel well and she would welcome a rest from the incessant noise of the children. My mother knew that when my father went to Abersberg, he returned home very early the next morning, and when I went to Berlin, I stayed overnight with my Aunt Gerda. And that’s why she did what she did.
“I’ll never forget that moment!” Mathilda-Rachel raised her eyes to look at Jacob, who was listening intently. “It was one o’clock, after midnight, when I came home after finding my aunt’s apartment locked. I found out later she had gone on vacation with Nikitin and stayed there overnight. So after entertaining myself with friends in Berlin, I had to return home. I knew my mother was sleeping, so I let myself in quietly with my own key so as not to wake her and went to sleep. A few hours later, I was awakened by the sound of voices that seemed to come from my mother’s room. I immediately recognized the voice of the sergeant, who spoke in a gruff soldier’s tone. ‘Oh, my dear, how much happiness you can give! You’re wonderful!’
“‘Oh, sweet…’ I heard my mother say and laugh unrestrainedly, for she was sure nobody was home. I remember I shuddered violently. I was shocked, and I was ashamed that my mother was deceiving my father. What stunned me even more was the sound of their lovemaking.
“I have to confess I had already petted a little with some young boys from my school, and they lusted after me more than I felt erotic feelings for them. I hated the bullies among the boys and liked those who were like the sergeant.
“He was blonde, a dandy whose boots were always polished to a mirror-like gleam, a mature man of forty, and he had the arrogance of a soldier. There’s no doubt he was attractive to women, but I felt deeply the insult to my father, and from that night on, I was angry at my mother, not because she had s
pent the night with the sergeant, but because she had deceived my father.
“According to my convictions then, the convictions of a young, naive schoolgirl, my mother should have openly declared her love for the sergeant and not hidden and lied to my father. She shouldn’t have sent my father away with the excuse that she wasn’t feeling well and therefore couldn’t accompany them to Abersberg. Her behavior made me very angry.
“After the couple had satisfied their lust, the sergeant got ready to leave, and I heard them kissing good-bye at the door. I opened the door a crack, and I could see my mother standing there looking so young; my father was eight years older than she was. They were embracing, and she was in her nightgown, glued to his manly figure. After a lot of kissing and hugging, they planned their next meeting in the park in Berlin, and the sergeant finally left.
“When she passed my room, I intentionally gave a loud yawn to announce I was there and awake. She burst into my room in a state of panic. I pretended I had just awakened and yawned again.
“‘Mathilda!’ she called out in a strange, trembling tone and held her nightgown up to hide the deep décolleté.
“‘Hmmm?’ I made a languid sound and avoided looking her in the eye.
“‘How did you get into the house?’ she asked fearfully, and when she saw that I didn’t answer, just yawned again, she added, ‘When did you get home?’
“‘Quite a while ago. I just woke up.’
“‘I didn’t hear you come in!’
“‘It was better that way.’
“‘It was better that way?’ She stared at me, suspicious I had heard everything. ‘How so?’
“‘It was better that way; otherwise, I would have disturbed you.’
“‘You are a good girl,’ she said and went quickly out of my room.
“I stole a glance at her. Her face was pink and glowing from all the sergeant’s passionate kisses. Her hair was tousled like a young girl’s. When the door closed behind her, I grinned. Even today I don’t know if she guessed I heard all that passed between her and the sergeant. Anyway, from that night on, she felt uncomfortable in my presence, especially when my credulous father would talk to her without dreaming his Elsa was betraying him and deceiving him.
“In my heart, I was sorry I had a father who so loved a mother and children, when some of them were maybe not even his. I began to suspect maybe I had another father, maybe the sergeant.
“From then on, my life took a different turn. After I overcame the urge to tell my father that his loving wife, my mother, was betraying him so impudently and shamelessly, I began to permit myself to behave in a way no young girl of my age should be allowed.
“When my mother noticed it, she scolded me and told me that a woman must not go beyond certain bounds and must guard her honor. That amused me, but I didn’t reveal anything to my mother even then. Because of this, I made an effort to stay out of the house and even bear my Aunt Gerda’s enmity rather than see my father and mother living in a false atmosphere of harmony and hear her false words of caution.
“When I came home and saw the sergeant, I couldn’t look him in the eye, and he didn’t know why I wasn’t polite to him anymore when he heaped compliments on me.
“In the meantime, I continued with my lessons in Berlin, and I longed to be a ballet dancer, a singer, or a pianist. I was sixteen when I finished high school and at the same time excelled in singing and playing the piano, both of which my aunt had taught me as she taught all her students.
“Professor Nikitin, and even my irate but kind aunt, praised my unusual talents and my quick mind. Everything came quite easily to me without effort, and I did it all willingly, enthusiastically, and well. This characteristic brought me, after a time, to actions that now, I can say, I regret having done.
“One of my regrets was falling in love with a twenty-year-old student, Karl Krackel, a blond, handsome, wide-shouldered boy, with whom I fell in love with all the passion of a young girl. I may still love him today, although I hated him and my love has cooled appreciably, for he is the one who put my feet on the path that brought me here today.
“We met in the summer in the luxurious Berlin park, Lustgarten. I liked going there and looking at all the splendor, especially the statue of Friedrich Wilhelm the Third on his horse. I always admired heroism and heroes, and I loved looking at the rearing stallion, his feet up in the air as Friedrich Wilhelm urged him to buck and yet restrained him, like a knight.
“I wasn’t the kind of person who liked to be alone, and I usually went to the park with my friend Lucy Bettman, a pretty girl full of life and as wild as I was. She studied dance and piano with my aunt. We would wander around in the park all day and never tired of its beauty. Here, too, we would meet the students in our class, and so it was no wonder I was attracted to the park. And once, toward evening, when I was standing and admiring the statue of Friedrich Wilhelm on his horse for the tenth time, a boy stopped by my side wearing a student’s cap and with a book under his arm.
“‘Ah, the young lady is admiring the glory of the past,’ he told me politely and with a cynical smile, and we began a conversation. In a short time, we were arguing furiously, and I learned his name was Karl Krackel and he was a student at the Universitat unter den Linden—the same university in which I was enrolled.
“His tall, manly looks, his youth, and his passion captured me. Marta Olshanska’s son, Watzek, resembled him a little, if that interests you at all,” Mathilda said to the silent Jacob. “Anyway, Karl made a deep impression on me, and I fell in love with him, as lovers say, at first sight. That evening, I learned he was a member of the Hitler Youth and the book under his arm was Mein Kampf. It had enthralled him.
“I don’t want, at this time, to argue about right or wrong,” announced Mathilda. “I fell madly in love with him, and therefore, he had no trouble convincing me that the eyes of my country were not fixed on the past but on the future splendor and glory of the German nation and that all the other nations were trying to choke the life out of her. He easily made me believe that Hitler was the only leader who could rescue Germany from her economic crisis.
“I confess I didn’t analyze what Karl told me. Politics were my least favorite interest. I was in love, and all that Karl told me were like the words of an oracle. I dare to be very honest about my love for Karl, and I’ll surprise you by telling you that, at the age of sixteen, I gave myself to him. It wasn’t difficult for him to achieve, as I loved him more every day. Now, I was no longer angry at my mother; on the contrary, I understood her very well. I must tell you that Karl influenced my thinking more and more. I joined the Hitler Youth and believed in everything told to me with all the passion of my young heart. I believed the German race was the supreme race and that was why all the other nations wanted to rid themselves of her.
“When war broke out, I was nineteen and Karl was already an officer in the SS and loyal to the Gestapo. Karl came often to my parents’ home to visit me, and under his influence, both my younger brothers joined. When my father learned his daughter was a member of the Hitler Youth, he was, unlike my mother, very displeased, but afraid to make his dislikes known. He closed himself away from us and spent all his time in his fields and barns. He also disliked that my two younger brothers, Peter and Franzel, joined the organization. I’m sure that, in time, they too made good SS officers and devoted and loyal Nazis because they looked at Karl with love and thought him a hero and a wise man and everything he said was sacred.
“After the triumph of the acquisition of Poland, I finished my studies, but I didn’t excel in any one particular field. As a member of the SS, I was still more interested in Karl’s love than in all the lectures of the youth club. I looked up to Karl as if to a god…a kind of Apollo. In the meantime, he had matured even more and now seemed like a knight, which thrilled me until I became a victim of his male arrogance and his strong character. I remember a day I will never forget. Karl was suddenly being sent to the front, and for a long time, I didn
’t know what had happened to him. One day I received a letter from him saying he was in Lublin, in Poland, where he was filling an important position in the Gestapo. The letter came as a pleasant surprise because I was sure he had forgotten all about me. He wrote to tell me to hurry and come to him, as he was dying of longing for me. That’s how I came to be in Poland and together again with Karl. We isolated ourselves and talked and dreamed of the end of the war when we would hurry and wed. Here, though, came a turning point in my life, which at first astonished me, and at the same time, gladdened me because of my temperamental nature.
“As you know, the war continued in spite of our armies and their lightning attacks that brought them so many victories. The war with Russia broke out, and although Karl promised me that in a few weeks we would be in Moscow, there seemed to be no end to the war. The Russian divisions retreated, and the lightning attacks lessened. The attack on Moscow was halted at the gates.
“One day, when Karl came back from a secret meeting, he told me, ‘Mathilda, I have a surprise for you!’
“‘What surprise do you have for me, darling?’ I asked, and I was sure it was good news from the front. Instead, Karl told me in secret that they had decided to send me to Russia on a task for my country.
“‘Me? A spy?’
“But Karl sealed my lips with a passionate kiss and explained, ‘In the Gestapo, they know you are an expert in the Russian language and culture. You’ll cross the border with genuine documents of a Russian girl who fled from a Kolhaus after it was destroyed by a bomb. Your job will be to infiltrate one of the Russian command posts, to make friends with one of the high-ranking Russian officers, to tour their front line, and to send us messages through a very small radio set, one of the new inventions of our engineers.’