Reluctant Informer
Marion Kummerow
Reluctant Informer (formerly part of the anthology The Darkest Hour)
Marion Kummerow
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2019 Marion Kummerow
This book is copyrighted and protected by copyright laws.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by http://www.StunningBookCovers.com
Cover Photo: Bundesarchiv, Bild 102-16180 / CC-BY-SA 3.0
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.en
Contents
Reader Group
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Also by Marion Kummerow
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Chapter 1
Berlin, February 1944
Sabine and her husband of five years Werner sat at their kitchen table having dinner. On the radio, Goebbels’s propaganda ministry raved on about yet another glorious victory of the Reich. She wondered whether anyone still believed those lies.
But she didn’t voice her concerns. Not because their small row house on the outskirts of Berlin had paper-thin walls and the sounds of their neighbors on either side could easily be heard. No, she had made it a habit to mind her own business and not complain.
What difference would it make anyway?
Food rationing. Lack of adequate transportation. The horrid nightly bombings by the Allies. The god-awful work in the munitions factory. There was nothing she could do about any of it.
She didn’t even complain, the way some of her work colleagues did, about the ever-increasing quotas they had to fill. The soldiers needed rifles, and complaining about exhausted feet and numb hands would only bring the wrath of her superior upon her. It wouldn’t change a thing in the greater scheme of warfare.
Weapons were needed and someone had to make them. People who stuck their noses into someone else’s business tended to disappear. That wouldn’t happen to her.
“How was your day?” Sabine gave Werner a tired smile as the news report ended. Usually he would pull her onto his lap after finishing dinner, but not today. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his uniform, and merely unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
Werner sighed and a look of sadness flashed over his face. “There was another incident with the SS.” He paused for a long moment, reluctant to tell her what bothered him.
“What happened this time?” She knew how much he adored being a fireman. His father and grandfather both had been firemen, and it was only natural that he would follow in their footsteps. But the work had changed so much, it wore on his soul, until most of the joy drained away. Instead of serving and protecting his fellow citizens, he had to stand by helplessly and watch the atrocities the SS or Gestapo committed. He rarely complained, afraid to utter criticism against the Party, but she knew how much he hated the cruelty of the regime.
Sabine sat quietly, waiting for him to speak again. The pained expression on his face struck panic in her heart. It beat so fast, she thought it might gallop out of control. After a few minutes, he finally looked up, and she read the sorrow in his eyes.
“They torched another building. With people inside, women and children. Sabine, some of them were jumping from the windows in their desperation, and the SS men trampled on those who survived the fall. God, it seems wrong to even call those thugs men. What I saw today was devoid of any humanity or compassion…” He paused for a moment and she saw a depth of bleakness in his eyes she’d not seen before.
She reached across the table and gripped his hand. “You saw this?”
Werner hid his face between his palms. “Yes. A neighbor called us, but the SS wouldn’t let us extinguish the fire, not until everyone inside was burned alive and the building in ruins.” He looked at her, dampness shimmering in his eyes. “Slaughtered. Everyone. Even babies. For allegedly housing traitors.”
“This is so awful.” Sabine squeezed her husband’s hand in sympathy.
“I wanted to do something, anything …but what could I do?” He buried his head between his hands.
“Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have done a thing. You did right by staying out of it, or they might have killed you too.”
Werner looked at her and his gaze turned to steel. “I’ve been staying out of it for such a long time and look what’s happening. The SS has more power now than ever before. Maybe it’s time we stopped minding our own business and stood up against injustice.”
Sabine released his hand, her eyes going wide at his statement. “Werner, that’s crazy talk. You don’t mean that.”
“I do mean it. Germany, the Germany I love, isn’t a country of insane lunatics who bully others and kill anyone who has a different opinion…” He jumped up and paced the kitchen.
“Shush! Or the neighbors might hear!” Sabine pushed up from her chair and stepped into his path.
“See where this has got us?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can’t even tell my wife how sick and tired I am of these thugs. And thugs they are, make no mistake.”
Sabine agreed with her husband on the thug part, but getting involved would put their safety at risk. Those people must have done something illegal. Why else would the SS go after them? “Don’t talk like that. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Simply do your job and ignore what’s happening around you. Please!”
Werner took hold of her hips and moved her out of his way to take up his pacing again. “Ignore it? How can I ignore German women and children being slaughtered like this? My job is to protect…”
“And you’re doing just that, but the Nazis have changed the ways things are done. You should be grateful that your job as fireman exempts you from serving at the front.”
Werner turned around and stepped in front of her, his handsome face mere inches away. He glanced down at her for a long moment and then sighed loudly. “I know, and I’m grateful, but…this is not right…we should…put out fires, not watch toddlers and their mothers perish…”
“You have to distance yourself from what happened today. You can’t draw attention to yourself or let anyone suspect that you object to their methods. That would be painting a target on your back – and mine.” She wrapped her arms around his chest, hoping her pleading words would ring true with him. They had endured so much together.
“I know. I just needed to vent my emotions for a few moments.” He hugged her, resting his chin on the top of her head.
Sabine pushed back a bit and looked him in the eyes. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid? I love you so much; I couldn’t live without you.”
“I promise.” Finally, his usual smile returned as he gathered her into his arms and carried her to their bed. “I love you too, Sabine. I’d do anything for you.”
Chapter 2
Sabine stared across the expanse of the factory, trying to convince herself that this job wasn’t so bad. Unfortunately, her mind didn’t buy it and dissatisfaction seeped into her soul like bitter medicine. In fact, she hated working at the factory, but then again, she recognized the futility of any form of protest.
The Arbeitsamt had assigned her to work there and like any good citizen, she’d obeyed. While her current station was monotonous, the work was easy and not physically demanding. As far as jobs went, there were much worse positions out there and she had no desire to experience any of them personally. Like cleaning the rubble from the streets after the air raids. Although, to tell the truth, she suspected such hard labor served as some kind of penal assignment. The people doing it looked awfully like prisoners in their striped uniforms.
She side-glanced at the empty station right next to her. The woman working that station hadn’t shown up for work two days ago and no one seemed to know her whereabouts. Sabine wondered whether she’d been killed during a bombing or maybe taken away by the Gestapo. Those things happened, although they obviously were seldom confirmed.
Her hands busy assembling rifle parts, she noticed one of the supervisors heading in her direction and ducked her head, keeping her eyes focused on the task. She’d made it a habit to make herself as invisible as possible, and rarely socialized with her coworkers.
Women who irritated the supervisors never fared well. They usually got moved to stations with a higher risk of injury or physically hard work.
“Frau Mahler,” her superior’s voice interrupted her musings.
“Yes?” She looked up at the old and well-fed man.
“This is your new coworker, Frau Klausen. I want you to show her the ropes.” He stepped aside to give way to an older woman standing behind him. Frau Klausen had graying hair, and the wrinkles lining her face testified as much to her age as to the privations every Berlin woman had to suffer on a daily basis. The somber black dress that peeked out from under the ugly grey-blue protective apron spoke of the hardships of more than five years of war and clothing rationing.
“Off course, Herr Meier.” Sabine groaned inwardly. Teaching Frau Klausen the ropes would set her back in reaching her own quota, which was never a good thing.
Herr Meier disappeared, leaving a shell-shocked-looking Frau Klausen standing next to Sabine. Sabine couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the older woman.
“Thank you for teaching me, Frau Mahler,” Frau Klausen said. “This is the first time in my life I’m required to work outside the house, but I promise I’m a quick study.”
Sabine nodded, but then thought better of it and gave her a smile. “You’ll get the hang of it pretty soon. Here, I’ll show you.” She proceeded to show her new coworker the motions needed to assemble the standard-issue Karabiner 98k.
Frau Klausen looked even more shell-shocked when she noticed what emerged from under Sabine’s hands. As promised, Frau Klausen was a quick study and didn’t need much handholding. Sabine especially appreciated her quietude. The older woman didn’t chat on incessantly about fashion, gossip or men like some of her younger coworkers did.
Throughout the morning Sabine kept an eye on her coworker, giving her tips on how to work faster or with more accuracy. But apart from this, she kept her distance, as there was no reason to become friendly with anyone.
As the gong sounded to indicate lunch break, Sabine rubbed her hands across the rough material of the protective apron. She set the rifle parts down to walk to the small rest area, where she’d earlier stored her lunch. She’d already taken a few steps away from her workstation when she looked back to see a completely out-of-her-depth Frau Klausen.
“Did they give you a tour of the factory yet?” she asked.
“Not yet. I suppose I’ll have to figure things out on my own,” Frau Klausen said with a tired smile, rubbing her back and stretching her shoulders.
Sabine sighed. “Come with me. I’ll show you where everything is.”
“Thank you. That is very kind of you. Have you worked here for long?” Frau Klausen asked, falling into step beside her.
Sabine shrugged her shoulders. “Long enough to know this is not my dream job, but it helps the war effort so…here I am.” They arrived at the break room where the women had the opportunity to heat up their lunch or buy something with their ration cards. Most of them, though, just ate some lukewarm soup brought in a thermos, or a hearty sandwich.
Another coworker, Elise, approached them. Sabine involuntarily ducked her head, because she feared the inevitable.
“Hi, I’m Elise. What’s your name?”
“Frau Klausen.” The older woman seemed as unwilling to engage in random chit-chat as Sabine herself.
“How come an old lady like you works here?” Elise asked, and Sabine inwardly cringed.
But Frau Klausen took it in stride and answered with a pleasant voice, “My husband is a prisoner of war in Russia and our four kids are all grown and don’t need me anymore, so the Arbeitsamt decided I could best serve the Fatherland working here.”
“Oh yes, isn’t it exciting?” Elise jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “We’re helping the Führer to win the war. Assembling rifles. That’s such an important job to do for a young girl like me, don’t you think?”
“Your enthusiasm is admirable,” Frau Klausen said with a voice entirely devoid of the enthusiasm she’d just praised.
“Yes. Obviously I would have loved to work for the Propaganda Ministry, typing up all those wonderful speeches Goebbels and his employees are giving. But my typing speed was too slow…and you know, I never was really keen on school. I always thought I’d marry by eighteen and have a handful of children…but my sweetheart left for war, and so here I am doing my bit. It’s such important work. Can you even imagine, that one of the rifles I assembled may be given to a brave German soldier to kill those depraved Russians?” Elise’s face brightened the room like anti-aircraft searchlights at night.
Frau Klausen’s lips pursed at the gush of words from the young woman and she bit into a piece of bread with heavenly-smelling cheese.
“So, what are your children doing?” Elise asked.
“My only son is a Wehrmacht soldier, currently somewhere in occupied Poland. He might be carrying one of your rifles—”
“Oh yes, isn’t that exciting?” Elise blurted out and started another monologue about the greatness of war in general, and Hitler in particular. Sabine had long ago decided to tune out the exuberance from Elise and some of the other girls. She might have been like them five years ago, but ever since she’d had two miscarriages she valued life a lot more. And war meant taking lives. Her stomach clenched. Two years had passed since the last miscarriage, and she still threatened to break out in tears every time she saw a pregnant woman.
Thankfully, the bell announcing the end of lunch break tore her from her morose thoughts.
“Lunchtime is over,” Sabine said, standing up and smoothing her hands over her hair, to make sure the rolls and curls were still in place. At work they weren’t allowed to wear their hair down due to the risk of injury, so she’d ingeniously invented a special hairdo that had all the elegance of the hair down, combined with the required work safety rules. She secretly called it the Sabine Roll.
“Thank you for showing me around and eating lunch with me,” Frau Klausen said on the way back to their workstations.
“You’re very welcome.” Sabine increased her work pace to make up for the time lost demonstrating Frau Klausen the tasks, and spent the remainder of her shift thinking about her new coworker.
It was obvious that the woman misse
d her husband and son very much. Although she hadn’t exactly said so, the longing on her face had given her away. Sabine knew she herself was privileged, because Werner’s work made him exempt from service, and she could only wonder how she would cope should he be sent away.
She loved him so much that just imagining something happening to him tore at her heart. Even after five years of marriage she felt the same butterflies and wobbly knees as on the day he first kissed her. A smile escaped her expression of concentration. Tragedies like the loss of their unborn babies could tear a couple apart or bond them tighter together. In her case the latter was true.
Chapter 3
“Sabine,” a voice called to her as she stepped out of the small row house where she and Werner lived.
She turned toward the voice to see Lily Kerber, her neighbor and former classmate, waving to her from the door of her own home. Lily had lived alone since her mother died a couple of years ago. Sabine always wondered how Lily managed to keep the house for herself, when so many others were assigned bombed-out victims to live with them.
“Good morning, Lily. How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. I saw Werner come home a while ago. Is he working nights again?”
“Yes. He’ll sleep most of the day now and will be leaving again when I return from work.” Sabine and Lily exchanged small talk every now and then, the way neighbors did, but they had never been close friends, despite the fact that they’d grown up on the same street and attended the same class at school.
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