by Mary Hagen
“I don’t know. It’s a two-seater with a gun turret on the back, great on speed, but not too maneuverable.”
“If we’re not headed for war, why the gun turret?”
“I can’t answer that, but you know what I fear.”
Finished with their drinks, Penn drove them to his apartment. Settling on his sofa, they listened to a piano concerto by List followed by Chopin. He held her close to him, his breath on her hair filled her with more desire than she could allow. Her toes tingled, her stomach filled with butterflies, but her deep fear was next to the surface, her anxiety like a blade in her back. She turned and kissed him hoping to banish apprehension from her mind.
“I like your apartment,” she said, “but I’m uneasy here. There is no place for me to run should the Gestapo show up at your door. I’m always afraid we’ll be reported. You’ll be sent to prison for seeing me, a Jew.”
Penn stared at her, his disappointment easy to read, but his reassurances written on his face. “I know the cruelty of the Nazis and I fear for us as well, but I will make certain we aren’t reported. I promise.”
Hannah wanted to believe him, but her discomfort remained lodged in her mind. She was a Jew, always a threat to her safety that could not be denied, irrefutable and could destroy what mattered most to her.
When she returned to her home, the house a ghostly form in the darkness, Hannah hurried to her room. Before preparing for bed, she checked her hiding place behind her closet, concealed by her clothes and prepared by her father. Should the Gestapo invade them, they would not find her. It did little to ease her worry. A wave of horror washed over her and she sat on her bed, her legs unable to hold her. Her belief in security had been twisted and warped beyond her comprehension. She was snagged in a small room with no way out.
After Hitler’s bloodless conquest of Austria, Goebbels used the airwaves to promote Hitler’s latest desire. “Germans in Sudetenland want reunification with Germany. They are entitled to it.” The popularity of Hitler reached a summit, but demands on the Sudetenland threatened Czechoslovakia security. They objected.
~ ~ ~
Hannah continued her trips with her father to the Jewish Quarter to care for patients. She noticed as they passed through the area, the signs on stores ‘Germans! Defend yourselves! Don’t buy from Jews.’ Sometimes a brown-shirted man flanked the store. Several stores were closed, the owners migrating out of the city with no more than a small suitcase. The people on the street scurried along with heads bowed. None smiled.
In the slum areas, no one laughed and few children played in the streets. Hannah vowed never to have children. She could not send her children to another country like so many of her country men were, into the care of strangers. Without the children, the gravity of their situation and the sense of timing running out sent waves of depression through her.
Her father broke into her thoughts. “I regret I can do so little for the patients I’m seeing today.” They entered a four-storied square building and climbed stairs to a third-floor flat. The building was quiet, the air filled with the smell of stale food.
“Many of them are suffering from malnutrition,” her father continued. “Spring is a blessing. They can grow vegetables.”
“If they can find seed,” Hannah added.
A gaunt woman answered the door. “Herr Doctor, come in. My sister cries all day with her two babies gone to England. I don’t know what to do. Several times I assure her, the children will be safer in England, but it does nothing for her spirit.”
Papa made his way to the chair where the woman sat. Her eyes were red. Grief creased her face. She looked at them, said nothing, stifled a sob, and buried her face in her hands. Papa touched her shoulder.
“Greta, you know your children are out of Germany and safe. You should be smiling with gladness. You must keep up your strength so you can join them.”
“I may never see them again. My joy, my reason for living, is gone.” Her shoulders heaved up and down. She held her wadded up handkerchief to her eyes. “I have no money to join them even if I could obtain the necessary papers to leave Germany.”
Papa pulled a chair in front of her and took her hands in his. “You must stop crying and eat. Your children are safe. I’ll make some inquiries and see if I can find where they went.”
Hannah’s heart fell into her stomach. Jacob. He’s going to ask Jacob to help her out of the country. No, Jacob’s in enough danger without adding a grieving woman to his worries. She stumbled to a chair and sat.
“May I get you water?” the sister who answered the door asked. “My name is Mrs. Helmenstine, Berta.”
“Thank you, but we have other patients to see,” Dr. Dresser said.
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I know we can no longer see you at your home for the safety of all of us.” Berta placed the glass of water on a small table and sat on a chair next to her sister.
The sobbing in the room ceased. Hannah glanced at her father who had brought a feeble smile to Greta’s face. They took leave of the room with the promise from Papa to return in a day or two.
Although in her mind as they continued their rounds, Hannah did not ask her father if he intended to contact Jacob to get the mother out of the country. She convinced herself, she didn’t want to know.
Hannah noticed the broken windows on stores and offices and the hopeless expressions on the faces of the people they passed. By the end of the day, she was relieved to leave the Quarter, her feet sore, her clothes wrinkled, and her mind filled with angry thoughts. Thank goodness Papa decided to build our home outside of Jewish areas.
Neither Mamma nor Ethel greeted them at the door. In the kitchen, Ethel puttered with pans while Mamma ironed shirts grateful they had electricity. When her eyes met Papa’s, Hannah knew they had someone in the basement, but Papa did not question her.
“Jacob is coming,” Hannah said.
“It’s time you know we’ve continued what we’re doing when you begged us to stop after Karl left. We’ve kept you out of it for your safety and ours as long as you continue seeing Penn. Late tonight Jacob is coming. We have two men with us wanted by the SS and the Gestapo,” Mamma said. “We continue to do this whenever someone needs us.”
Hannah waited for an explanation of their crime. Mamma helped Papa remove his coat, took Hannah’s and hung them on the coat tree. Papa poured coffee for them and sat.
“The two men attempted to bomb Himmler’s car. Jacob is taking them out of the country.”
“At extreme danger.” Hannah blew out the words. She was angry and filled with dread at the same time. Ordinary people who were perfectly respectful a few years earlier, were now considered trash to throw on a heap and burn, some who had not committed any crimes.
“Yes. He’s not willing to stand by and do nothing. He has my admiration and support.” Papa sat back in his chair.
Mamma left the room and returned with an envelope she handed to Papa. “Mrs. Jacoby's maid delivered this today. I’m not certain I want you to read the note.” Her voice shook. “They are not Jews.”
He frowned. “The Jacobys were patients of mine before I was forbidden to practice medicine. I’m surprised to receive this.”
The three women waited for him to read the message to them. His features changed from surprise to consternation to doubt.
“Well?” Mama questioned.
“Herman Jacoby is very ill. Margo wants me to see him.”
“You must not,” Mamma said.
With a shrug, Papa said, “It’s difficult to refuse. I’m a doctor.”
“A Jew without a license. There are German doctors,” Mamma stated, but her words quivered.
She took Papa’s hand. “Please, refuse. It could be a trap.”
“They’ve had several physicians check him. No doctor has helped. She want
s my opinion. How can I refuse an old friend as well as a past patient?”
Mamma took the note from Papa. “Please, do not do this.” Her voice sounded thick and unsteady.
Later Hannah would argue against visiting the Jacoby home. What could Papa do? He had no means of running tests, taking x-rays, obtaining medicines, and he could not operate in any Berlin hospitals. Their visit could be reported by someone working for the Jacobys. Where did they stand with the Nazis? Was this a ruse to arrest Papa and send him to Dachau? Hannah’s blood ran cold with the thoughts and her uneasiness made her skin itch. They could not stand against the Nazis.
“You must refuse, Papa,” Hannah said. “You tell us every day, we must obey, do as the Nazis ask, show we are good citizens. The Jacobys could be Nazis.”
~ ~ ~
Instead of walking the distance to the Jacoby house, Papa paid tram fare for the two of them, his displeasure at Hannah written on his mouth. She did not listen to his protests to accompany him and chose to ignore the tension between them. No one noticed they were Jews, but they sat at the back of the conveyance.
The day was warm. About an acre of bright green manicured lawn surrounded the Jacoby mansion. Trees bordered the fence around the property and bird songs filled the air. New flowers grew in planned circles. A curved driveway led to massive wooden doors decorated with the Jacoby crest. Cement lions sat on each side of the steps leading to the entry. The two-storied mansion, square in shape, displayed evenly spaced long narrow windows. The contrast to the peaceful scene were drapes drawn at the windows giving the home a deserted appearance.
Mrs. Jacoby answered the door and invited them in. “Dr. Dresser, thank you for coming. It is good to see you after so many years.” Mrs. Jacoby turned to Hannah and took her hands. “Your father never told us he had such a beautiful daughter. You must be one of the most beautiful women in Germany.”
Hannah wanted to scream, “I’m a Jew. Can’t you see?”
Mrs. Jacoby was heavy set with gray hair and sharp, penetrating blue eyes. She wore little makeup, unnecessary with her pale clear skin unmarked by age lines. Hannah smiled. “You flatter me, but like any woman, it’s nice to hear.”
“I’m not flattering you.”
Her father interrupted, “Where is Herman? I should like to see him.”
“In his room. He has so little strength, he rarely gets out of bed. I’m worried. He’s our lifeline. My two daughters and I would be lost without him.” She sucked in her breath and held it to regain her composure.
Papa followed Mrs. Jacoby up the curved staircase and along a hallway to a room. Hannah came last. Mrs. Jacoby knocked before entering the large room. The drapes cut out light. A small lamp sat on a nightstand next to Herman Jacoby's bed. Turning to Mrs. Jacoby Papa asked, “Would you open the curtains, please?”
“Dr. Dresser,” Herman said in a weak voice, his breath shallow and fast. “So good of you to come.” His gray hair was thinning and his cheeks were sunken.
Hannah noticed his yellow skin as she handed her father his stethoscope. He listened to his heart rate and his lungs, took his temperature, and felt his lymph glands. “Do you feel numbness or tingling or both in your hands and feet?”
“Yes.”
“He’s often confused and has been depressed,” Mrs. Jacoby added.
“My memory is not serving me as well as I would like. How long can I remain at the university with my weakness?”
“What do you think is ailing him?” Mrs. Jacoby asked.
By the look on his face, Hannah was certain her father had a good idea of Mr. Jacoby's problem, but he did not want to say in front of the man. He placed his stethoscope in his bag.
“How honest do you want me to be?” he asked Herr Jacoby.
“Tell me what you think.”
“I cannot run tests or prescribe under the present circumstances which I suggest you have, but I suspect you have pernicious anemia.” Papa sat straight in his chair and crossed his legs. “Mention to your physician you want to be tested for anemia. I can do nothing for you.”
“How serious is this?” Mrs. Jacoby asked.
“Have you been eating well, meat, vegetables, and fruit? Pernicious anemia can be caused by a lack of vitamin B-12. Your blood can be checked under a microscope.”
“We eat well,” Mrs. Jacoby said. “Can his condition be cured?”
“It depends on the cause. Do any members of the family suffer from anemia? Pernicious anemia runs in families. The prognosis is not good.”
“His mother,” Mrs. Jacoby said. She coughed and dabbed a handkerchief at her eyes.
Herman pushed himself into a sitting position and placed his hand on Dr. Dresser’s knee. “This policy of the Nazis against the Jews is misguided and stupid. We’ve not only lost services of excellent physicians like you, but outstanding scientists at the university, men and women we need.” The words left him breathless and he slid under his blankets.
Hannah wanted to yell, “Then why are you and people like you letting this happen.” She turned her head toward the door anxious to escape the house of an Aryan. Coldness closed in on her. Too many Germans turned a blind eye to the atrocities perpetuated by the Nazis, preferring to see them through rose-colored glasses, and not taking a stand against them. Were the Jacobys such people? She wanted to grab her father’s arm and drag him out of the house.
“Get to your doctor immediately,” Dr. Dresser said. “If I’m correct, you need immediate injections.”
Before they left the house, Mrs. Jacoby offered them refreshments, but Papa declined.
As Hannah and her father walked away from the Jacoby home, she noticed how stooped her father was, how he held his head, bowed never looking up. In the sunlight, his hair appeared much grayer than she remembered. Since the Nazis had taken control of the country and he could no longer practice medicine, he had aged. Today, he looked like an old man. She tucked her arm under his. He glanced at her, his face grave. When the bus arrived, she helped him board. They rode in silence.
Walking toward their home, Hannah thought it appeared shabby, gray, and old too.
Papa said, “Professor Jacoby and I are distressed by the Nazis as so many good Germans, but do we speak out? No. We remain silent and are rendered irrelevant persons to be tossed into garbage cans. Germans do not care what happens to Jews.”
He glanced at her, his mouth grim. “We’re doomed. A government that gives too many benefits to citizens wins right or wrong. People like free vacations, free medicine, but too many handouts by a government weakens it and opens the door for despots.”
Nodding, Hannah found herself drowning under the unbelievable evil surrounding her and she could do nothing to make changes.
Chapter 9
Penn no longer worried alone about war. Citizens in every city in Germany fretted about a possible war, too. Tension was strong enough to cut wire. Masses held their breath as Hitler and his poison dwarf, Goebbels, stirred up German resistance in the Sudetenland to rebel against Czechoslovakia and break away from the republic.
Penn flew his dive-bomber every day. In the cockpit, he forgot the Nazi slogans, the hate, and the fear. He flew like the birds, an observer of earthlings tied to the land. His JU 88 was slower than he liked, but an effective dive-bomber that took nerve and skill on the part of the pilot. Why the need of dive-bombers and fighters, far more than needed for the defense of his country?
When he landed his plane at Staaken Airfield, the hate, the injustice hit him like a punch to his face. His love for Hannah sustained him, their shared laughter, the tender moments between them, his need and love for her, but he worried about her safety. The violence against the Jews increased daily and was constantly on his mind. The thought of Hannah, a victim of attack by the SS and the terror involved, shook him to his core. In his heart, he knew
he could not save her. She had to leave Germany, but how could he live without her?
Many times, he’d asked her to stay away from the Jewish Quarter. She insisted she could not. She needed to assist her father who could not stop his calls on Jews. Her loyalty, her courage to help her father and their people was admirable but dangerous and he worried.
Hannah never mentioned Jacob to Penn after she told him Jacob had left Germany, and he never asked. He suspected Jacob was in Germany. What was he doing, putting the Dressers and Hannah in harm’s way?
Penn taxied his JU 88 to the hanger, removed his goggles, his cap, and checked his instrument panel before exiting the plane into a hateful reality. As he left, he patted the panel. “Good girl. Let’s hope we never do anything we’ll regret.”
The setting sun colored the white clouds hanging in the west pink, blue, purple, and orange into a pallet of beauty. The warmth of the evening touched his face. He removed his flight jacket and checked in.
In two hours, his beloved would sit next to him. His heart turned over and he inhaled a deep breath recalling her scent, her smile. He blanked out his expression, filled out his charts, and cut out attempts for discussion by the sergeant on duty about his day.
“Wish the powers that be would allow me to fly,” the sergeant complained. “I know I’d be good. Instead, I get to sit at this desk. Well, Heil Hitler.” He lifted his arm.
“Heil Hitler,” Penn responded.
On his drive home, he stopped at his father’s factory. If his family would leave Germany, then he could desert and marry Hannah. Little chance of that happening.
His father’s long-time secretary, Mrs. Linn, greeted him. “My dear boy, it’s been months since I’ve seen you. You must have every fair maiden chasing after you. You’re so tall and so handsome.” She giggled. “Your father’s in his office. I’ll ring you in.”