by Alexis Clark
Karl and Margarete focused their attention not on the Third Reich’s increasing authoritarianism, not on their children, but on wealth and good living. Although they had a loveless marriage, Margarete and Karl were an admired couple who managed to maintain a public image of a happy and unproblematic marriage.
Margarete was quite popular among the other wives in Vienna’s social circles, and she fit in easily because she was beautiful, cultured, and wealthy. She had many friends, some of whom she had kept in touch with since her school days in Westphalia, and she was great at what later would come to be called networking. Whenever she went someplace or met a new person, she knew what to talk about and how to be engaging. And she and Karl would go to great lengths to entertain powerful guests.8 Karl could attract important people both because of his success in business and because of his background in the military, and he did show loyalty to the party out of respect and as a means of survival. Though Karl and Margarete didn’t belong to the Nazi Party, they both respected Hitler as a leader and supported his plans for a great German empire. They were not interested in the obligations of party membership, however, and displayed just enough patriotism and rhetoric to escape suspicion and criticism.9
Frederick and Charlotte loved Vienna just as much as their parents did, not least because it meant they were no longer isolated. It was an ideal environment in which they could pursue their mutual love of painting, and each found the architecture and museums inspiring. But once again they were left to themselves at a time in their lives when both longed for structure and reassurance. Radical changes were taking place all around them and the country was on the verge of war, but nothing about Margarete or Karl’s routine changed.
Both Charlotte and Frederick retreated further and further into their own worlds. Any somberness or awkwardness they felt or exhibited didn’t seem to concern their parents at all. Karl’s reputation as an important businessman was solidified. He was on the management board of Veitscher Magnesitwerke, a major refractory company in eastern Europe that produced fire-resistant materials for the cement and steel industries—the very materials that would be invaluable in World War II. His business acumen saved him. With Karl’s wealth, social standing, and business interests that benefited the war efforts, his lack of Nazi party affiliation was never questioned. He was savvy, persuasive, and likeable, and successfully maintained his apolitical stance by staying laser-focused on his career. There was something irresistible about Karl, who knew how to adapt to any environment seamlessly, and how to engage in nationalistic rhetoric to keep the heat off, if necessary. He convinced every one around him that he was indispensable to his profession, which made him indispensable to the German army. And as a reservist and veteran, he was in close enough proximity to the war to never be accused of being unpatriotic.
Frederick and Charlotte functioned like most teenagers in the late 1930s: they went to school, had friendships, and experienced crushes. Even though they didn’t speak up about what was happening around them, both of them knew that Jews were being rounded up and sent to concentration camps. The evacuations and outward displays of anti-Semitism couldn’t be ignored, but it would have been unimaginable for Charlotte and Frederick to discuss any of the brutality against Jews with their parents. For one, Margarete supported the Third Reich and Hitler, and she was silent about what was happening to Jewish people. And it simply wasn’t part of the culture for adults to discuss politics with children, particularly when absolute obedience to Hitler was mandatory. “You wouldn’t dare say a word,” said Charlotte, no matter how much she and Frederick objected internally to what was happening. The climate in Nazi Germany was fraught with paranoia and fear. The Third Reich petrified Germans, and to ensure one’s own safety, everyone went along with whatever Hitler said. And the fact was that many Germans, like Margarete and Karl, felt a great sense of pride with Hitler as their leader. He represented power, force, and German dominance, attributes that German citizens hadn’t experienced in years.
Frederick did have an opinion about German nationalism, however. On one hand, he, like his father, was apolitical and had no interest in government. But unlike Karl, Frederick wasn’t a diehard patriot longing to wear a military uniform for his country. He didn’t put on any airs or walk around repeating inflammatory rhetoric. That was not his nature.
He was in the Hitler Youth, along with his sister, Charlotte, because participation was mandatory for anyone with children who wanted to avoid scrutiny or be accused of disrespecting Hitler and Germany. “After school you had to go to meetings from seven to nine, singing songs,” said Charlotte. “We all greeted each other with ‘Heil Hitler.’ We had to everywhere, on the street, in stores, ‘Heil Hitler, Heil Hitler!’” Frederick said “Heil Hitler” too, because that was expected of him and he really had no choice. The times in which they lived required 100 percent compliance, and Karl and Margarete wouldn’t have allowed any dissent in their household.
However, in 1939, when Hitler invaded Poland, Karl would finally reveal, in a strategic and unassuming way, an objection to what was happening around him. He received orders to leave his family in Vienna to assist with the occupation of Poland. He didn’t know the details of the assignment before he arrived, but once there, when he realized they were rounding up Jews and shooting them, he asked for an immediate transfer back. Karl was a German nationalist, not a murderer. He had done his duty in the Great War and was a loyal soldier, but what was going on in Poland was entirely different. Though he couldn’t openly object, he convinced military leaders in the Wehrmacht that he was far more useful to the war effort by running his company and that the production of materials would be significantly compromised if he weren’t back in Vienna overseeing operations. His argument worked, and Karl returned home to resume his business obligations.10
Although he didn’t have the stomach for brutality, upon Karl’s return his relationship with Frederick didn’t change. There wasn’t a big eureka moment for him after witnessing carnage at the hands of his own government. If there was one realization he should have taken away from his time in Poland, it should have been that he, like his son, was not a bloodthirsty war machine. But the self-reflection never occurred, and Frederick still appeared to Karl as too weak. There wasn’t anything Frederick could have done to gain his father’s interest. Karl still didn’t care about his family beyond providing material necessities. With war declared, instead of spending precious time with his loved ones and making sure they were safe, Karl still spent many nights away to be with his lovers. Weekends, like dinner, were spent as a family of three for the Alberts, not four. Margarete did her best to act as though Karl’s behavior had no impact on her life, though the reality was that she was on her own, married to a narcissist, while the country of her birth began to wreak havoc all over Europe.
Frederick eventually joined the Reichsarbeitsdienst, commonly referred to as RAD, the State Labor Service. Created in July 1934, it was inspired by the many labor organizations that existed in Germany after the country’s staggering defeat in World War I. To combat the devastating economic crisis, toward the end of the 1920s many civic, political, and church groups formed independent work camps across Germany to help provide some form of employment for the many ex-servicemen and the huge numbers of unemployed workers. RAD was mandatory for all Germans between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five for six months, and upon completion, they had to serve for two years in the Wehrmacht. The RAD typically repaired roads, constructed dikes, dug ditches on farms, and performed any service that would help the German military.11
Frederick also marched, completed rigorous fitness drills, and sang the songs of Germany’s superiority and dominance over the world. One of his duties involved working on a farm, and he hated every minute of it. “It was terrible,” said Charlotte. “They had to slaughter a pig. The poor pig was screaming.” Frederick’s other RAD exercises were equally miserable. An initiation of some sort involved him and his fellow comrades going to the seashore, str
ipping naked, and washing with sand. Frederick saw no point to the exercise except to teach sheer humiliation.12
The simple truth was that Frederick wasn’t drawn to the rugged activities that Aryan men were supposed to embrace. He wasn’t into sports either. If he had to play, he’d choose a position that required the least amount of endurance and physical contact. He didn’t live up to the Third Reich’s ideal image of a German man who was tall, blond, muscular, strong, and, above all else, aggressive and hypernationalistic.
Frederick, whose blonde hair had browned and who had a slight frame, was a Renaissance man. He was artistic and romantic. He was against the war and Hitler, but he learned to adapt and did what was expected of him, which was still never enough to warrant any attention from his father. Even though Frederick eventually joined the Wehrmacht to fight for Germany, Karl continued to ignore him. It was almost as if there wasn’t anything the son could do to gain his father’s respect. Frederick turned to his painting. He was gifted in drawing landscapes. He took inspiration from the renowned works of Caspar David Friedrich, and he loved drawing nudes and portraits of good friends. If there was one thing he excelled in, it was art, which also happened to be the very thing Karl couldn’t have cared less about.
Before his conscription, Frederick went briefly to the prestigious Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna. It was a bittersweet accomplishment. Frederick’s painting ability, in Margarete’s eyes, was something to be nurtured, and she was proud of his work, hanging some of his paintings on the walls of the apartment. Karl didn’t notice and had no congratulatory words for Frederick when his son was admitted into one of the best art schools in all of Europe. Painting wasn’t a respectable profession in his eyes. Frederick’s choices were unacceptable to Karl, who viewed his son as a disappointment.
Art wasn’t Frederick’s only passion. He also loved jazz and had an affinity for the New Orleans sound of several black musicians, including Louis Armstrong and Sidney Bechet. But the only music allowed in Germany was that performed by German musicians. Any music performed by a non-Aryan was forbidden by the Nazis; listening to black American musicians was unconscionable. “Nigger music,” as Hitler referred to jazz, “was forbidden,” said Charlotte. Anyone who sought it out was doing so at great risk. You could even go to prison if you were caught listening.
Frederick, isolated from his father, was at least getting attention from his mother at times. In family photos, Margarete even appeared enamored with him, her expression one of pure elation as she gazed at him. But it was more than a mother cooing over her son. Margarete favored Frederick over Charlotte and didn’t hide it. She talked to him more, smiled more, and complimented him more. It was a hurtful reality for Charlotte, who couldn’t seem to garner attention from either parent. Even when she looked at an old family album at the age of ninety-four, Charlotte seemed upset, as if the feelings of neglect and rejection were still raw. “You can see,” she said, pointing to a photo of Frederick. “Mother’s favorite, and I’m always on the side and superfluous.”
Charlotte’s daughter, Kristina Brandner, who was born in 1943, during the war, knew her mother’s upbringing had been difficult emotionally. “I grew up with my grandparents in Germany after the war,” said Kristina. “There was so much jealousy and bad feelings in that house. Frederick and my mother did not have a happy childhood.”
As the war intensified, Frederick made one last, determined effort to bond with Karl. He knew his pursuit of art alienated him from his father, and although he wasn’t going to give it up, he decided that he could also be a strong German man if that was what it took to have a relationship with his dad. He would fight just like everyone else and make the same sacrifices that every young soldier was making. Nationalism wasn’t in his heart, but he loved his father and wanted him in his life, and so he knew he’d have to do something drastic that exhibited boldness, courage, and strength in order to change Karl’s low opinion of him. When he was drafted, Frederick made a decision so uncharacteristic that it was hard to believe: he announced he was joining the Luftwaffe to be a paratrooper. What better way to impress his uncommunicative father than to sign up for an extremely dangerous division of the military?
Frederick wanted his father to see that he was a real man capable of taking risks and confronting danger and death. His desire to join one of the most suicidal sectors of the German air force didn’t change one aspect of his strained relationship with Karl, however. To think he could suddenly reinvent himself in his father’s eyes turned out to be wishful thinking. Karl’s lack of acknowledgment must have been a devastating blow to Frederick. He was willing to risk his life not for Hitler or Germany but for his father’s elusive approval. And it meant absolutely nothing to Karl.
Margarete, on the other hand, was proud of Frederick. She, more than any other member of the family, was the most vocal nationalist who believed strongly in Germany’s empire. That her son was fighting for their country was an honorable thing.
Yet being in Hitler’s army was the last thing Frederick wanted for himself, especially knowing his father didn’t care. He had no choice but to fight, of course, as imprisonment or death would be the only option if he refused to participate in Germany’s military pursuit of world dominance. His heart would never embrace Hitler’s carnage, which meant he would never identify as a Nazi. He was simply doing his mandatory duty.
While Frederick was away in basic training, Charlotte, after finishing high school, believed the best way to rid herself of her parents’ rejection was to marry. She was stunning and sophisticated and relished the attention she received from men. It was only a matter of time before she was engaged. When one young man in particular, who believed in Hitler’s ideology, asked her to marry, she accepted his proposal. That her new husband was a Nazi sympathizer wasn’t necessarily an issue for Charlotte. It was a common occurrence to meet Germans who believed all the rhetoric and propaganda. But Charlotte didn’t subscribe to those beliefs herself. She was running away from loneliness, and getting married would finally put an end to a life filled with neglect from her parents. Naturally, the marriage didn’t last long, and Charlotte divorced her husband shortly after the birth of their daughter, Kristina, who would be given to Karl and Margarete to rear. “My mother was like my grandfather,” said Kristina, reflecting on her upbringing. “She wasn’t interested in the family.”13
Meanwhile, Frederick was struggling in the military. If his training was supposed to turn him into an emotionless warrior, the opposite happened. When he left for the service Frederick kept up a friendship with a classmate from art school named Kurt Wilhelm, who would later become a prominent German film director. They exchanged a lively correspondence about art and artistic freedom, and discussed a famous exhibition of “degenerate art” that was controversial at the time because it was by artists who were banned by Hitler because they were not Aryan and had decadent styles. Frederick was careful to tear Kurt’s letters into little pieces after reading them, given the subject matter, because he knew they could get him into trouble, but one was found by a sergeant who put the torn pieces together and reported Frederick. He was court-martialed and reduced in rank. He could never be an officer after that incident; his liberal ideas about art prevented that.
The term “degenerate art,” coined by the Nazis, was part of a smear campaign against modern art and artists deemed un-German, Jewish, or Communist in nature. Hitler considered degenerate art works that “insult German feeling, or destroy or confuse natural form or simply reveal an absence of adequate manual and artistic skill.” In Munich, in 1937, Adolf Ziegler, one of Hitler’s favorite painters and head of the Reich Chamber of Visual Arts, organized an exhibit of “degenerate” works of art that the government seized from museums to serve as contrast to the works in the Great German Art Exhibition, a show that was taking place simultaneously. Hitler forcefully said in a speech that Germany was cracking down on cultural disintegration and shaming “the cliques of chatterboxes, dilettantes and art swindlers,
” who created works that were considered unpatriotic and disrespectful of Aryan ideals.14
The exhibit of “degenerate art” was a seductive topic among art connoisseurs such as Frederick. But that he would be so brazen as to discuss the forbidden works while serving in the military proved how out of place he really was.
Everything Frederick loved—jazz, art, liberal ideas—was counter to the ideology of the Third Reich and the nationalistic views of his parents. Yet somehow, this made his desire to be a paratrooper all the more profound.
But Frederick’s dreams of becoming a war hero were quickly thwarted. Many years later, he revealed to his children, in sparse detail, that he hadn’t served for very long before he was captured in an Italian village trying to flee on a bike with flat tires.
3.
Fighting Hitler and Jim Crow
DURING ELINOR’S LAST YEAR OF NURSING SCHOOL in 1943, the American military was deeply entrenched in battle with the Axis Powers all over the world: the Germans and Italians in Europe, North Africa, and the Atlantic, and the Japanese in East Asia and the Pacific. There was hardly a person in the United States who wasn’t impacted by the war in some way. The very idea of serving in the military to fight Hitler was appealing to anyone young and patriotic, as well as to those in need of the stable income the military provided, which was arguably one reason why black men enlisted. Given that Jim Crow was just as pervasive in the military, the African Americans who joined were volunteering to meet the threat of fascism head-on even though the liberties they fought for weren’t extended to them. World War II united Americans across race, class, faith, and ethnicity. More than thirteen million, or 10 percent of the country’s population, would serve in some capacity by the end of the war.1