Last Letters

by Helmuth Caspar von Moltke

  I’m reading Lilje’s book about the Revelation with great pleasure.3 I don’t know whether it’s good, because I know too little about the Revelation, but that’s why it interests me so much. The translation in particular seems to be very good. I am spending quite a lot of time thinking about what I’ll actually find when I have to go to Plötzensee. And Kant and the Scripture have convinced me that I will not have to wait for the Last Judgment, but will somehow live in the kingdom of Christ without delay. I’ll simply fall right out of our three categories—time, space, and causality—into a state of being that we cannot imagine precisely because we can think in only these three categories. But if time no longer exists there, the kingdom of Christ, as described in the Revelation, is already there, because everything is “now”; consequently I won’t be waiting either.—The less one is able to understand this, the more one is inclined to ponder it, but for this life, the only thing that is ultimately of any consequence is that the Lord preserves my unshakable certainty that He will take me straight into His arms from the shed in Plötzensee. Nothing else will matter. I will find some way, my love, to make myself noticeable to you in the three categories.

  The newspaper has just arrived.4 So what are we going to do now, my love? I hope you do manage to come tomorrow. That will be a dreadful trip. And then you have to be back by the 26th or not at all. That is certainly a very unpleasant decision. To make matters worse, Namslau has been named in today’s Völkischer Beobachter report about the war situation. If I’m not mistaken, that’s 100 kilometers from Kreisau. The Russians have begun the attack from the south that Halder and I were expecting quite far to the north, which means that if they don’t cross the Oder farther to the south, you’ll be very close to the combat, and if they cut the railway line that runs via Opole, our line will remain the only connection to the southern army. Well, maybe they’ll keep turning farther south after all. I had actually expected that they would advance to the west just above the industrial zone, or that they would at least cross the Oder well above Opole. That essentially remains the likely course, because otherwise they’ll get the Malapane River as well as the Neisse and the Oder, and then those will be a major obstacle. Yesterday’s Wehrmacht report and everything about the situation sounds quite bleak, as the Russians have evidently now also broken through the front in the north behind the Vistula bend. What a cost to human life! All you can say is: So what does it matter if one more man is hanged. But that’s not how God thinks, not how He acts; that’s how Nazis try to think, and even they can’t manage to do so, at least not when the life of a count is at stake. What a life, my love! May the Lord just give us the ability to cope with all this properly, that is, in the proper spirit and faith, however things continue from there.

  But I’ve drifted away from the subject, which is: a. Are you coming tomorrow? b. If so, are you going back on the 26th? I’ll be around for the first of those dates. The second is very hard to answer. You actually should be at home now. On the other hand, your presence can be very important here. The 26th is Friday. By then it ought to be clear whether you can still see Kaltenbrunner and whether you can, should, want to, etc., speak to Prost again.—Your presence is a great comfort to me, as I’ve already told you time and again, but when I examine the situation honestly, I conclude that you really ought to travel to Kreisau. Well, maybe everything will be decided quickly.—But in that case, we will barely be able to maintain any connection between us, because letters will take forever to get to their destinations, and if Silesia becomes an area of operations, telephoning won’t be possible either, and you may have the Russians in the house before you even know if I’m dead. It’s all very disagreeable. Well, we can talk about that—if you come—and we have to trust in the Lord no matter what. For you it would now be a blessing for the Russians to come soon, because they will certainly get to the Silesian border, and if they don’t get through Silesia, you’ll be the front line with all the delightful consequences that go along with that. Better to be occupied quickly than to have a front that goes on for months. What would Herr Müller say to that?

  Incidentally, the situation makes it seem justified to use any means necessary to postpone the execution, because this offensive may be heralding the end of the war. In eight days we’ll know more about that. There could just as well be a front again, of course, one that lasts for several months. In any event, as long as we don’t know that it will last, we can certainly try with Herr Prost to encourage a review of individual questions—such as what the Abwehr knew.

  For a change I’ll get to the subject of my life here. I’d like to ask you to give me some coffee for Herr Mittelstädt: only a small bag. I don’t want to give him a cigarette every time, but I want him to come to get me quite often, so I hinted that I’d be able to get him some coffee. Poelchau thinks I still have this week—but I do think it’s possible that the minister will come back as early as today or tomorrow because of the situation in the east and the difficulties in traveling—and it’s much more entertaining in the sick bay than it is here, where we don’t get out at all and have been treated less well in every regard since Claus has been gone. In the sick bay, by contrast, it’s warm, still, peaceful, it’s just that Eugen can’t go with me anymore, because Mittelstädt was evidently reprimanded for taking us out together. In exchange (!) I found a health-care aide there who is from Schweidnitz and whose wife is a Willmer from Oberweistritz and also lives there, a cousin, he thought, of Sister Ida [Hübner]’s. Isn’t that odd. The sick-bay staff is not only defeatist, which is certainly the case, but is also counting on an insurrection and thinks everything is well prepared for it.

  So, now I’m all blathered out. All I have left to report is that I’m well. My back is quite a bit better, and I have to put on quite a show just so I can keep getting my light baths. My nerves are also quite calm. Unfortunately I’m constantly monitoring myself to see whether certain things make me nervous, and that’s bad. But I can’t seem to stop doing it. There is a great deal of stress involved if you can be taken away at any minute between 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. to be executed, and having a situation as good as mine is cause for satisfaction. Everything is like a miracle. Normally—that is, according to the way things were done until early December—the execution would have taken place immediately, and we wouldn’t have seen each other again, nor would you know anything about the trial. I could be at Prinz-Albrecht-Str., where no one can gain entrance, the people are unfriendly, the danger of interrogations always looming, there is neither exit nor sick bay nor Eugen and, most important, neither Poelchau nor Pim. The Lord is very benevolent with us, and we have to thank Him constantly.—And if I were on the outside, I would probably die now, because as someone born in 1907 I would surely have to go to the front, given the current situation, and as a poorly trained or untrained man one doesn’t stand much of a chance. And for what would I die then! I think that even if I’m killed, you two, Marion [Yorck] and you, have it far better than Davy [von Moltke], because at least you’re on the right side, while Davy will be haunted by the state funeral for the rest of her life.5

  I had very tender thoughts of all of you this morning, and hoped to find that all is peaceful. Farewell, my love. May the Lord watch over you and us. J.

  Addendum to the above: It strikes me that it might be better not to send a family petition for clemency to the Reich Ministry of Justice under the abovementioned conditions, but instead here too to direct our efforts from the outset at achieving a postponement of carrying out the death sentence until the question of amnesty is examined after the war is over. But think it over.

  22 Jan 45

  Good morning, my dear love, I fear that you’re stuck somewhere on the railroad after a horrid night, with cold, overcrowded trains that are endlessly delayed. How glad I will be when I hear what is happening with you, whether you’re coming, you’re here, or you’ve stayed in Kreisau.—I had a good sleep. Yesterday I forgot to write that Rösch was arrested.6 That poses a new danger for Poelchau7�
��I have to write you about what I need: two shirts, one towel, one pillowcase, four handkerchiefs; I also think you should give me a pair of thick socks in bad condition if you have them, because the ones you knitted last year are much too nice for the hangman’s assistants; I’d better give them back to you.—As for food, I need sugar, honey; the bacon and butter will last to the end of the week. The sausage will last until Wednesday.

  So, now I won’t write anything more, apart from the fact that I love you very much, my love, and that is all. J.

  1. That is, during Freya’s visits to the Drögen police station, where the Security Service questioned Helmuth when he was incarcerated at the Ravensbrück concentration camp.

  2. Helmuth is using “Kreisau” in the transposed sense of the activities of the Kreisau Circle.

  3. Hanns Lilje, Das letzte Buch der Bibel; see Freya’s letter of January 15, 1945.

  4. The Völkischer Beobachter, the Nazi Party organ, reported the collapse of the eastern front and the Russian advance toward Kreisau.

  5. Davy (Davida) von Moltke, Yorck’s sister, had to suffer her husband being given a state funeral after dying while serving as the German ambassador to Spain in 1943.

  6. Augustin Rösch was arrested on January 11, 1945.

  7. Possible statements by Rösch could have brought to light Poelchau’s involvement in the Kreisau Circle.

  HELMUTH JAMES TO FREYA, JANUARY 23, 1945

  23 Jan 45

  My dear, I just want to write you a word or two. Where might you be, my love? Maybe you’re in Berlin, or you’ve turned around? If you should receive this letter after my death and not be in Berlin, don’t think I was sad about your not being here. The two of us have gone beyond all that, after what the past three and a half months have taught us. If you’re here, that’s an additional pleasure, and if we should see each other once more, it will make us very happy. Once it’s clear that you can’t do any more for me, you have to leave me and go home, because all sorts of things will need doing there. I wonder whether Maria [Schanda] is staying too. That would be useful. Evidently yesterday’s Armed Forces High Command report used the phrase “in the area of Breslau,” and the guards are reporting that women and children were being evacuated from Breslau and some had arrived in Berlin. Just fight off any panic. It would be sheer suicide to wind up in the stream of refugees. I’m quite worried that they’ll slaughter the cattle. Let’s hope that your pig really does die soon, otherwise it’ll wind up in other people’s stomachs.

  I’m doing fine, my love. I’m not restless or agitated. No, not a bit. I’m ready and willing to entrust myself to God’s guidance, not just forcibly but willingly and gladly, and to know that He wants the best for us, for you too, my dearest. Yesterday I was at the light bath again. I have now won over both of the trustees by giving them cigarettes, the one from Oberweistritz who gives me the light baths, and the one who serves as the health-care aide here, who is from Hirschberg and now makes sure that I get there. So I hope that this diversion will work often, as long as I’m here. Unfortunately I’ll need some more cigarettes, but that’s assuming I still exist next week. In the sick bay I’m getting raw rutabaga, and starting today they want to give me white bread. They assure me that they’re taking it away not from the patients but from the guards!! An amazing state of affairs.—The Russian offensive has raised our popularity quite a bit: “Now even the stupidest person can see what you wanted to save us from. And for that you’re getting hanged!” Words to that effect.

  Farewell, my love. May the Lord watch over you and us. J.

  When you arrange for the arrest warrant to be translated, I would replace “attorney” and “Berlin-Lichterfelde” with “farmer” and “Kreisau,” and say that was a later correction in case someone asks you. It appears on both sides, in the preamble and in the address.

  Later: My dear, how wonderful to know you are there. How very good. The guard just brought me fresh meat, whipped cream, and rolls. Otherwise nothing else to report, other than that I love you very much, my very dear heart, and that is how it will remain. J.

  FREYA TO HELMUTH JAMES, JANUARY 23, 1945

  Tuesday, nine thirty

  My dear, here I am again, or should I say once more, because I fear that my place will now be in Kreisau again, unless you think I ought to bring the boys = flee. Wend [Wendland] would like to have Asta [Wendland] move to Mecklenburg, to the Wendlands’, anyway. Where does it say: “And woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck!”?1 But as your pupil (your wife, your beloved, yours), I’m for remaining. One thing I’ve noticed right away, my dear love, during these days of the onset of terrible turmoil: We are in such good hands with the good Lord, how little can actually happen to us, even though the pressures of hunger, cold, and long journeys are certainly not to be scoffed at. The poor, poor people! Especially the poor mothers with small children. These baby carriages, these crying, freezing children, in front of trains that can no longer let them on in Liegnitz! At the same time, though, Liegnitz was well equipped with open coke ovens on the platforms, and with good soup and milk for the children. But to come to the point: Kreisau is still quite tranquil, but the county of Schweidnitz is taking in the entire county of Oels = we’re getting 350 refugees from Oels in Kreisau and twenty-five in our house. They’re set to come today or yesterday. On Sunday afternoon, we cleared out the three front rooms (dining room, fireplace room, and living room), closed off the doors to the hall and the big living room, and that’s where they should be coming in—but we have to have food cooked for them in the utility room, and of course a welter of minor and major problems will arise, problems that have to be solved somehow. We’re also afraid that the Russians are already heading across the Oder near Opole, and then they’ll quickly get to Kreisau, or this line will become a front line, and we’ll have to leave after all. But these are all decisions that will have to be made from one day to the next, and we’re prepared for pretty much all of that. I’m only afraid that I can’t give in to our hearts but instead have to go to Kreisau, or, to put it more specifically, that my place, no matter what I do, has to be with the boys. Today’s armed forces report appears to be much calmer again, and maybe it will take quite a long time; then I just may find an opportunity to travel back and forth, because I absolutely don’t shy away from hardships. Yesterday my trip was actually not bad at all. It is true that the 5:28 didn’t leave Kreisau until 7:28, and I was seriously worried about whether I’d get in (and the only reason I did is that the Russian girl—a pleasant and nice person who lives in Stäsche’s house—pushed and shoved me from behind and didn’t get inside herself), but in Keischwitz!! the man who had a corner seat near me got off, so I got a place to sit early on. I sat there, quiet and tiny, until Liegnitz, feeling reasonably warm. In Liegnitz, however, we had to wait on the platform for two hours, because the express train to Berlin ought to have been coming, but instead there were special trains with refugees who filled the platforms with their bundles and children and formed virtual villages unto themselves. Finally a short and very crowded express train arrived. Getting in seemed out of the question, but as I walked back and forth next to the crowded train, I went past the dining car and saw that only two soldiers wanted to board there, and told the last one to squeeze in a little, which he did, and suddenly I was inside. Afterward I sat up front on my bag, my backpack on my lap, and slept in some corner. If I hadn’t had a headache, because I left my aspirin behind, it would have been a pleasant trip, as the ride itself was fine even though we had to get another locomotive in Arnsdorf and spent a long time at every station because the people kept squeezing together and creating new space. Shortly before Köpenick, the train stopped, and after waiting for an hour, I got out with a few soldiers, and we made our way across the tracks to the Köpenick S-Bahn station,2 and at 11 I was here. Still, I was very tired, because I didn’t exactly get to sleep much in Kreisau. On Friday I didn’t get there until 12 o’clock at night, on Saturday we listened to foreign stat
ions until late at night, and on Sunday I got to bed at 10:30, but was back out at 4:30 a.m. The boys were by far the nicest thing in Kreisau. Casparchen woke up as soon as I entered the room at 12. (None of them had been expecting me, because the phone wasn’t working, but the good Maria [Schanda] woke up right away; she was the only one who’d counted on my arrival.) He was utterly happy, and even the chubby little guy opened his eyes halfway and smiled: that was quite lovely, and in the morning both got into my bed, but I had a bad headache; even so, I was delighted with my two affectionate sons. The most obvious thing I’ve noticed about them was that my long absence has brought them very close to each other. They are truly brothers and love each other like crazy, and because Casparchen is a baby, they also play together splendidly, racing around the dinner table together—it’s now in the large living room, though it wasn’t on Saturday—screeching as they go, laughing themselves to death and having a great time. On Sunday after we ate, they lay down peacefully downstairs on the sofa and wanted to sleep there together. Casparchen only because he’d eaten too much, because normally he doesn’t need to nap on Sundays. When they came to me on Saturday morning, Casparchen said, in English: “Dear Mother, I love you very much!” Very nicely pronounced, learned from Maria. Little Konrad meant to say something as well, but claimed that he had cold feet. Once they were warm again, he said, with his blanket pulled over his head, “Dear Reya, you’re here, we’re happy tralala.” That was all very sweet. Casparchen is looking quite well, and a bit heavier. He doesn’t have school anymore,3 isn’t learning anything, spends a lot of time outdoors, doesn’t know much about the estate, is good at cycling, and doesn’t ski much, but when he does, he’s utterly fearless. Little Konrad has grown somewhat thinner since Dr. Breucken said there’s nothing wrong with him (apart from being overweight). That was very handy for Frau Pick! I didn’t deal with the Schloss. Zeumer is doing well. He is quite upset about you. He considers it on a par with dying at the front. He wants me to let you know that he will do everything in his power for Kreisau, but I need to do quite a bit as well “in the interest of the operation,” because he won’t be there forever. Your letter, which I have yet to read in its definitive version, goes along with this quite well. I didn’t discuss any of the essentials with him. You and the Russians were the main focus. We loaded half of the flax and we’re now threshing.—Lachmann, Rehlas, and Präbelt have left for the national militia.—Brigitte [Gerstenmaier] has to leave and will take the letter with her. You see, my love, that I had very little time in Kreisau, because I—She’s going. I’ll come tomorrow and will write much more!