Ignoring my request, they asked for Wilhelm. I replied quite truthfully that he wasn’t in the house. They didn’t believe me and began to search. Before they went upstairs I saw Wilhelm cross the courtyard with Irena at his side. Either he or Irena had brushed and cleaned his uniform, and they were holding hands as though they had been out for a morning stroll.
I ran outside and begged Wilhelm to take Elise and hide in the woods. I insisted that a battalion of troops could search for a year and not find all the places we played in as children. He listened to me, smiled gravely and shook his head, as though I were a silly child again.
Then he looked up and saw the major in charge of the SS detachment standing outside the kitchen door watching us. He asked if he was looking for him. When the major replied that he was, Wilhelm offered up his gun.
I have never been angrier or more proud of my brother. Only the set of his jaw betrayed his nervousness. He and Paul always used to clench their teeth whenever Papa reprimanded them for their pranks. The major ordered one of his men to pin Wilhelm’s arms behind his back. Wilhelm assured them that there was no need for restraint. He told them that he was prepared to go with them wherever they wanted, so long as they spared his wife, daughters, mother and sister.
I think he shamed the major, because he ordered Wilhelm released, and gave him permission to go upstairs and say goodbye to Mama.
I went with him. It was awful. Mama didn’t recognize him. He embraced and kissed me before we left the room, and reminded me of my promise to look after Irena and the girls. As if I needed reminding.
Irena, Marianna and little Karoline stood waiting for him in the hall. The SS watched while Wilhelm hugged and kissed them. He told Irena that he loved her and was sorry that he had loved his country more, but he was sure that he had done the right thing. He smiled and looked at the soldiers as he said, ‘As God told Abraham that He would spare Sodom if he could show him ten just men in the city, so I hope that God will be merciful now and not destroy Germany because we stood firm for our country. None of us can complain that we have to die.’
Then he looked at me over Irena’s shoulder. I knew what he wanted me to do. I took Irena from him. Wilhelm turned on his heel and walked out of the house for the last time.
Irena was in the most dreadful state. She broke free from my grasp and, shouting Wilhelm’s name, ran outside after the cars. I thought she would never stop screaming. Minna took the children into the kitchen, Martha brought the brandy, and between us we tried to get Irena to bed, but she didn’t calm down until I promised to telephone Papa von Letteberg and ask him to help Wilhelm.
I couldn’t get through to Papa’s office, or the one Claus works out of. I only succeeded in speaking to a series of officious clerks, who kept repeating that a state of martial law had been declared in the wake of the assassination attempt. I telephoned Irena’s parents, and they came at once with the doctor, who sedated Irena despite her pregnancy. He warned that if he didn’t she’d undoubtedly miscarry.
At four o’clock, another two cars arrived with another six SS officers, three in each car. I knew who they had come for when I saw that two of the officers were women. They asked for Irena, Marianna and Karoline. I told them Irena was ill and pregnant, and we feared for her life as well as the child’s. But they pushed me aside and quoted the doctrine of Sippenhaft, ‘blood guilt’, as though the two babies or Irena could be tainted because of something Wilhelm had done.
They went upstairs, thrust Irena’s mother out of the room and dragged Irena out of bed. Frau Adolf was hysterical. I insisted on seeing Irena, and one of the SS women officers allowed me to help Irena dress, but she removed her gun from its holster, pointed it at us and stayed with us the whole time. I asked her just where she thought a heavily pregnant woman could run to with SS officers all over the house, but she didn’t answer me.
When we went downstairs, the woman handed Irena to the captain in charge, then she and another officer went to the kitchen and took the children. They knew exactly who they were looking for. They didn’t even glance at Erich, just took Marianna by the hand, picked up Karoline and dragged them into the hall.
I tried to take the girls from them, pleading that I was their aunt. That it was my duty, not theirs, to care for my brother’s wife and children, but they ignored me. I used my father-in-law’s and Claus’s name, all to no avail.
In the end, one of the officers hit me across the face, sending me spinning back into the staircase, warning that if I didn’t stop making such a fuss they would take me and Erich, too, but only after shooting everyone else in the house.
It was then that Irena behaved as bravely as Wilhelm. She kissed her father, mother and me, thanked me for being a good sister, and asked me to take care of her parents as well as Mama and Erich, and, if there was a future for Germany, and they lived, her daughters.
Her father and Brunon stood tight-lipped, while Irena’s mother, Erich, Martha and Minna began to cry. Mama came out of her room to see what all the commotion was about. I asked Minna to take her back. The SS women took charge of Marianna and Karoline. They placed the two little girls side by side in front of Irena and ordered them to say goodbye. I could tell from the confused expression on their faces that neither Marianna nor Karoline understood a single word that was being said to them.
One of the women then said, ‘You will have to change your names so no one from your family will ever be able to find you again. Hitler will educate you and you will never see your mother, father or one another from this moment on.’
We all knew the warning was directed at us not the children. Less than five minutes later they were gone. Nothing I could do or say would change the minds or melt the hearts of the officers. I begged that Marianna and Karoline be allowed to take their favourite dolls, but they didn’t permit them to take anything except the clothes they stood up in. Irena told her parents she was sorry that she had brought them grief, but she could not and would not condemn what Wilhelm had done. Then she said to me, ‘Do what you can for the girls.’
She walked out of the house upright, dry-eyed, staring straight ahead, just like Wilhelm. I thought her pregnancy would evoke some sympathy, but the children were wrenched from her and bundled into one car, she into another. Her last words to her daughters were: ‘Remember who you are and who your father was.’
The doctor tried to give me a sedative after the cars had gone, but I wouldn’t take it. He drove Herr and Frau Adolf back to town. Irena’s baby will be born in two months. Surely they won’t kill a pregnant woman? What will they do to her? Will they really separate the children? Will they kill them?
I sat in the kitchen nursing Erich on my lap for what seemed like a long time, not knowing what to do or think, wishing I could stop crying, wishing it were dusk so I could go to Sascha and ask his advice. All I can think of is my broken promise to Wilhelm. How could I stand by and allow the SS to take his family away?
Chapter Thirteen
WEDNESDAY, 25 JULY 1944
I have been so wretched and miserable I haven’t spared a thought for Grunwaldsee, and I have left Brunon to do all the work by himself. On Sunday I couldn’t bear to face anyone, so I stayed in my bedroom most of the day, reading stories to Erich. He keeps asking for his Auntie Irena and Marianna and Karoline. He cannot understand why the nasty soldiers came and took them away and repeats endlessly that they hadn’t been naughty.
I can’t find the words to reassure him or the strength to visit Mama. I am sure that the guards are watching me, so I stayed away from Papa’s study and the tack room.
In the early hours of this morning Sascha took a terrible risk. He left the loft, went into the tack room, crossed the courtyard and climbed the wall on to my balcony. I heard him whispering my name outside the French doors. It was crazy of him. If one of the guards had caught sight of him, he would have been shot.
He stayed with me, just holding me and letting me cry, not saying a word, until an hour before dawn when I led him ba
ck through the house to the study and unlocked the door to the tack room. Even then I went in first to check that no one was there. It was dangerous to walk through the house, but it was a safer route than across the courtyard.
I left him there and went foraging in the kitchen. I brought back some milk and bread, which would have been breakfast for Irena and the girls. He passed most of it up to his men but stayed with me while he ate and drank his share. He told me that the guards have been talking about nothing else but Wilhelm, Irena and the children. Even they are ashamed of the treatment meted out to a pregnant girl and two babies.
Mama von Letteberg arrived unannounced as I was in the tack room with Sascha. Brunon somehow knew where I was and banged on the door. Sascha returned to his loft before I opened it. My face was swollen and red-eyed, so I hoped that Brunon and Mama von Letteberg had assumed that I’d locked myself in there to have a good cry away from Mama, Erich and the servants.
I didn’t have to tell Mama von Letteberg anything; she knew it all. She sat with me while I continued to cry. Then she closed the door and said that no matter how hard it was, I had to pull myself together and be brave. That if I made a fuss, Erich, Mama and I would be taken away, just like Irena and the children. She told me that Colonel Graf von Stauffenberg had already been executed, and that the evidence against Wilhelm was overwhelming.
She said that Papa von Letteberg was doing what he could to help Wilhelm but it was very little, as every officer connected to von Stauffenberg and his department, and thousands more, have been rounded up, and it can only be a matter of time before Claus and his father are questioned because of their relationship to von Stauffenberg through Wilhelm and me.
When I looked at her, I realized that she is as upset as I am; only she is far more adept at concealing her feelings. I wanted to ask her if Papa von Letteberg knew of the plot to kill Hitler beforehand, and if he and Claus were party to the conspiracy. But I didn’t have the courage to question her. I can see that the less anyone knows about who exactly was involved the better.
Mama von Letteberg doesn’t think Hitler will dare kill a pregnant woman and children, especially ones who bear the old and respected name of von Datski. I do so hope that she is right and not just saying it to give me hope where there is none. Papa von Letteberg has discovered that Irena is being held in a women’s prison not far from Berlin, but it is forbidden to send anything to her or to write any letters. He hasn’t, as yet, found out where the children have been taken, but he doubts that we’ll be able to see them or send them anything.
Mama von Letteberg knew some of the details. Colonel Graf von Stauffenberg and three other officers were executed by firing squad shortly after midnight on 31 July in an inner courtyard of the War Office. I knew Wilhelm would be executed the moment Mama von Letteberg said that the colonel was fortunate to have such a quick and merciful soldier’s death.
Wilhelm, along with many others, will stand trial. The Führer has ordered the arrest of all the men involved and also their families, so Irena, Marianna and Karoline aren’t the only women and children to be imprisoned. Colonel Graf von Stauffenberg, or someone close to him, had contacted England in an attempt to try to end the war. After the failure of the plot to kill Hitler was announced by the Reich, the BBC broadcast a list of the conspirators, so the Führer knew exactly who had plotted against him. Didn’t the British understand that although all the officers were Germans they were Hitler’s enemies, too?
After a while Mama von Letteberg persuaded me to leave the tack room and return to the house. The doctor was waiting to see us. Herr and Frau Adolf are dead. They wrote a note saying that they could not bear to live with the knowledge of what had happened, and then took poison. The doctor suggested that they found it impossible to live with the disgrace of having a son-in-law who tried to overthrow and kill our beloved Führer, but I think it was the loss of Manfred and the cruelty meted out to Irena and their grandchildren that drove Herr and Frau Adolf to take their lives.
Claus telephoned at midnight to tell me that he is returning to the Russian Front and will call in Grunwaldsee on his way through. That was all he said. I was too afraid to ask him any questions because I suspected that someone was listening in. Mama von Letteberg knew about his posting. I asked her if it was Hitler’s way of punishing Claus because he is related to a member of the conspiracy. She insisted that it wasn’t. That things are so uncertain and dangerous in Berlin, Papa von Letteberg had arranged for Claus to be sent back to the Front because it is safer than the War Office right now.
For the first time I am glad that Claus is coming to see me. In all this mess of death and cruelty there is one secret that I am glad about. I have been carrying Sascha’s baby for over a month. No one knows except me, not even Sascha, but I will tell him before Claus arrives.
If I can make Claus believe that he is the father, I may be allowed to keep the child – at least for a little while.
Charlotte closed her eyes and, once again, Sascha’s blue eyes gazed into hers, glittering in the flickering light from the lamp she had hung on the tack room ceiling. From the moment they had first made love she had never kept anything from him. But she had found it so hard to tell him what should have been such happy news.
‘I have something to tell you,’ she had finally whispered.
‘I know what it is,’ he had replied soberly.
His sudden change of mood made her afraid. ‘How do you know?’
The warmth and intimacy engendered by their lovemaking had shattered. He drew away from her, sat up and reached for the shirt she had torn from his back; an old linen one of Paul’s that she had darned many times. ‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes.’ Refusing to allow him to move from her side, she rose to her knees and wrapped her hands around his chest.
‘I overheard Brunon tell Marius to make sure the grey stallion’s tack was clean because your husband is expected tomorrow.’
She had felt his pain as if it were her own. ‘You have no reason to be jealous of Claus.’
He had hung his head, and she knew he was ashamed of his anger. ‘I cannot bear the thought of you lying in his arms, of him kissing you, caressing you, loving you …’
‘I don’t lie in Claus’s arms!’ She tightened her hold on him. ‘I don’t love him, can never love him the way I love you. But –’
‘While I remain here, I am a prisoner, a slave, a nothing and no one,’ he interrupted harshly. ‘Claus von Letteberg is an aristocrat, and you are his wife –’
‘I am having your child.’ She had intended to choose a better time to break the news to him. And had planned to do it gently. She had even rehearsed what she would say.
He turned and stared at her. She saw shock, fear and something else reflected in his eyes.
‘I’m having a baby, your baby,’ she repeated quietly, aware of his men in the loft above them, separated only by a layer of wooden planks.
‘When … when will it be born?’
She hadn’t needed to calculate, she had done nothing else for the past month, ever since her suspicions had hardened into certainty. ‘The spring. Late March or early April.’
He had dropped the shirt, sank back on the hay and looked up at her. ‘You will tell Claus it is his?’
‘Not now, but in a month or two, yes. What choice do I have?’ she begged, willing Sascha to offer her hope that it could be otherwise. That they could escape, make a new life for themselves somewhere, far from Germany and Russia, but even as the thoughts formed in her mind, she knew they were futile.
‘There is no choice for either of us while the war still rages. But if it ends …’
She knew why he had left the rest of the sentence unspoken. It was the reason neither of them had ever broached the subject before.
‘The war will end. If only because there will soon be no soldiers left alive to fight it,’ she said sadly.
‘If Russia wins, I will go home, and take you and Erich with me,’ he promised rashly.
‘To your wife?’ She forced a smile to take the sting from her words, although she wanted to remind him that he wasn’t free, either.
‘And if Germany wins?’ he had asked.
‘The men will return.’
‘There won’t be enough survivors to do all the work. If I’m lucky I will remain here, a prisoner and a slave, and you and my child will live with Claus von Letteberg. And if I’m not lucky …’
‘Sascha, don’t!’ She buried her head in his chest, unable to bear the thought of separation. ‘I love you.’
‘And our child?’
‘The child will be born of our love. I will cherish, adore and protect it with all my strength. Please, Sascha, can’t you be glad? This war has brought so much death – Papa, Paul and, it seems certain, Wilhelm. So many people I loved, and so many friends, gone for ever. And, in some ways, not knowing what has happened to Irena and the girls is even worse. Every night I imagine them being tortured, crying, screaming for me to help them …’
He pulled her down on top of him. She laid her head on his chest and he stroked her hair. ‘This child won’t take their place, Charlotte.’
‘I know.’ It was as though an iron fist had closed over her heart. ‘No one can.’
He turned, faced her and smiled; the slow smile she had come to love so much. ‘The child won’t take their place. But it will bring hope for the future – our future.’
She was almost too afraid to ask the question. ‘And in the meantime?’
‘We will make every second of every minute count. We will love one another as no man and woman have ever loved before, and,’ he trailed his fingers over her naked body, ‘I will be grateful for every day that I am able to watch our little one grow within you. And hope that fate will allow us to be together when it is born.’
Charlotte laid the diary on the bedside table, left the bed and opened the balcony doors. The sun had risen above the lake, shining through the morning mist that clouded the waters and hazed the woods, just as it had done on so many other summer mornings.
One Last Summer (2007) Page 22