Berlin Wolf (26 page)

‘Merry Christmas,' she said, handing it to Herr Riesen. He hesitated. He had already opened a splendid present from Lotte, a lovely, warm, lambswool scarf. ‘Please open it,'she said.

Without further encouragement Herr Riesen gratefully unwrapped the present. He stood silently for a few minutes. This one gift meant more than any other he had ever received. It was a violin.

‘It's no Stradivarius, but I guess it will do,' Lotte joked. Herr Riesen was choked with emotion.

After a few minutes of effusive thanks, he took the violin in his skilful hands and plucking each string several times, tuned his instrument. Then he played. The violin may not have been a Stradivarius, yet it sang nonetheless, as the bow smoothly caressed the strings, allowing the notes to dance into the air. When finally the musician took the violin from under his chin, little Hannah surprised everyone.

‘Mendelsohn! Mendelsohn!' she said, over and over. She was clapping enthusiastically at the same time. They now had another clue as to her true identity.

For the rest of the evening the gathering was entertained by one of the world's premier violinists. He was no longer Herr Riesen, the caretaker, but the great concert violinist once more. Elsewhere in the building those who heard the music assumed that Lotte had acquired a gramophone. None realised that the music being played was forbidden by their rulers.

‘We
must
get her abroad somehow. We
must
!' Lotte said. It broke her heart to say it, but she was suggesting that little Hannah, to whom she had become so attached, should leave them.

‘We just cannot keep her here. The risks are too great. I can't pass her off as my daughter as everyone knows I don't have a daughter. Besides her colouring is much too dark. Most of all, we can do very little about that thing on her arm. What if someone sees it?'

Peter, Franz and the Professor had to reluctantly agree with Lotte. They had all fallen for this remarkable little girl and none could bear to see her suffer again.

‘Look,' Lotte repeated, ‘she cannot stay here. Who knows how this war will end, but it looks more and more likely that Germany will be defeated and we could soon be under Russian rule. Hannah cannot hide inside for the rest of the war. She must have the chance to play like normal children and not worry about the future. We cannot jeopardise her safety by keeping her here.'

Although little Hannah had become a carefree child, with barely a hint of her past suffering, she often looked longingly out the window. She was happy playing inside most of the time, but every morning as Peter and Wolfi left for their daily walk, she would rush towards them and ask to go too. Peter put her off as best he could saying that for the time being it was not safe. He found it hard to bear the disappointment in that otherwise happy face and more so when the same explanation was required in the afternoon. Peter had never had a sister and this little girl had, in just two weeks, become so important to him. Nonetheless as much as he would miss her, he understood Lotte's insistence that she should be able to play, just like any other child.

The conversation continued along these lines for some time. It was the second week of January 1944. Since little Hannah had been discovered they were still no closer to knowing what exactly had happened to her and by what miracle she had escaped from the camp. Nor did she identify the person Peter had seen running away from the bridge.

What was undoubtedly clear was that she had lived in a house or apartment with a telephone and that her father had been a professor of some type, probably music, and that she was accustomed to the sound of all the classics. She even knew how to hold the violin properly and the correct angle for the bowing action, as well as being able to play some of the chords. Herr Riesen so longed to teach her. It was too risky. It was one thing to give a concert at Christmas, it was yet another to play in Lotte's apartment on a regular basis. His whole disguise was to hide his origins as the great concert violinist and he knew that once he had the instrument in his grasp, he could not resist playing. When he played, the passion, the emotion and the skill would betray him at once. He simply could not endanger the others in that way. Instead he vowed that the first thing he would do when the war ended would be to give a concert.

* * *

After a long period of discussion, the agreement was reached that somehow, Hannah would be smuggled out of Germany. They did not need to consult as to where. There was only one person they would trust to love and care for Hannah and she now lived in Switzerland. A visit to Aunt Berta was in order.

‘Yes, but how do we get her there?' Peter asked. ‘A car will cost a fortune even if we can find petrol supplies. We cannot risk being stranded half-way to Switzerland.'

Lotte had long since been required to give up both limousines for the war effort and the official car had been taken away. Even with a car, petrol was now so tightly rationed it seemed impossible they would ever buy enough.

‘We shall go by train,' Franz announced.

‘We can't it is too dangerous, especially for Hannah.' Peter was exasperated. ‘And we will need permits for the journey.'

They had already considered travelling with Hannah openly. Franz could easily prepare false papers for her including the necessary travel permit. Lotte could partially disguise her distinctive colouring. With makeup the tattoo could be hidden from all but the closest inspection.

The problem was Hannah. She was so pretty, with her lovely dark eyes, dark hair and dark complexion she was bound to attract attention. Hannah was clever and they could easily teach her to adopt a pretend name and persona. Yet she was so beautifully Jewish and very proud of it. Whatever her origins, and in spite of her age, Hannah had no doubts as to her own identity and was prone to telling anyone who cared to listen, even quoting well-known parts of the Torah. These were usually prefaced with the words ‘My papa always says as it states in the Torah.' Apart from the obvious dangers of an inadvertent slip, deep down Lotte, Franz, Peter and the Professor did not want Hannah to lose this quality. It was part of her and one of the reasons they all adored her.

‘I have an idea about that,' Franz smiled. By now his friends knew what that smile meant.

* * *

‘Excuse me. Excuse me, please.' After several hours queuing Lotte was beginning to lose her patience. Everyone in Berlin seemed to be in Potsdamer station trying to leave the capital. And then her luck changed dramatically. ‘Excuse me,' she repeated and tapped the man on the shoulder.

The object of her attention was middle-aged, in an expensive hand-made Italian suit and good quality leather shoes. His overcoat and hat also spoke of the highest quality and therefore significant wealth or power, or both.

‘What? What the hell do you…?' The man did not finish the sentence. His annoyance vanished as soon as he saw Lotte.

‘I'm so sorry to trouble you,' she said coyly. ‘I couldn't help overhear. You have a ticket that you want to refund along with a reserved compartment. I want tickets for my two boys. One is badly wounded and I am taking them south to recuperate in the mountains. I can pay the full price. Oh please help.'

‘The gentleman's compartment is available only to the most senior party officials or ministers. Civilians are not permitted to use it. And his ticket is non-refundable.' The ticket booth attendant's interruption only served to renew the gentleman's fury.

‘Shut up or you will take a different train journey and it will be one way only,' he bellowed at the attendant. The effect on the attendant was clear to see.

‘Well I suppose if, if, if…' he stammered.

Fifteen minutes passed and Lotte had more than just her tickets. She had a reservation for a separate compartment, all the way to Munich.

Back in the Luisenstrasse apartment Lotte was making a phone call.

‘Gertrude? Aunt Gertrude! How good to hear your voice.' Lotte heard the click which confirmed the Gestapo were tapping the conversation. They tapped virtually every phone call these days.

‘Yes Gertrude, I miss you too. Good news! I am bringing the boys for a visit. Franz needs some recuperation. His submarine was torpedoed. They can hardly wait to see you. We have a special gift for you.'

Aunt Berta or ‘Gertrude' as she was known when the Gestapo were listening, was of course in no doubt that Franz could not have been wounded in a submarine. She was not worried. She was excited at the prospect of the ‘special gift'. She once confided in Lotte that her only regret was that she had never had children. Never received that ‘special gift' as she described it.

Just five days later a very glamorous former actress and a young man in naval uniform were travelling first class through the countryside of Southern Germany. The young man had his arm in a sling and walked with a limp. They were in a sleeping compartment with the bed folded up on one side and down on the other. The modesty curtain was pulled across in front of the bunk that had been opened up. On the luggage rack was a large trunk and two smaller suitcases. The guard had helpfully offered to store the trunk in the baggage compartment. Lotte had been most determined.

‘Those are the few clothes I still possess. I want to keep them close to me,' she had insisted. As she had paid for the use of the whole sleeper compartment and tipped handsomely, he did not complain.

Out in the corridor another young man stood in his pristine naval uniform. He was stockier and taller than the first sailor and was staring distractedly out the window. Or at least that was the appearance he gave. He was in fact keeping a very close lookout for any unwanted visitors. He was ably assisted by his large black shaggy dog. Wolfi was a useful addition to the party. His size and powerful jaws and teeth kept many people at bay, frightened by him. He did not need to snarl, something he seldom did and only when the occasion really required it. Anyone who did venture close to him was more likely to be greeted by a wagging tail and a flip onto his back, paws in the air.

The Professor had stayed behind in Berlin to look after the apartment and their various charges. Wolfi would have been happy to stay with him, but Lotte had a particular reason for hoping that Peter would insist that Wolfi travel with them. Deep down she hoped that both Peter and Franz would finally agree to stay in the safety of the Swiss Alps, looking after Hannah and looked after by Berta. Lotte knew that this would never happen if Wolfi remained in Berlin. Peter would never allow himself to be parted from his faithful pet.

Closer examination of the large trunk that Lotte was so keen to keep by her would have revealed many tiny holes bored into one side. When opened it was a little smaller inside than the outside suggested. The false bottom created a space just big enough for Hannah to hide in. They had hated the moment in Lotte's apartment when they had asked little Hannah to see if she could squeeze inside. She had managed it easily as she was so very small and underweight. She had accepted confinement in the trunk without any complaint, happy to treat it as a game. It was a game in which she must remain still and silent until they told her otherwise.

The reserved sleeper compartment was a godsend, for it meant that for long periods, little Hannah could lie on the bed behind the curtain or even occasionally sit by the window. At night she was able to lie with Lotte and sleep, well-concealed. And as they were relatively hidden from view the journey could be completed in one go as Hannah did not need to stow away in the trunk.

Best of all, as the sleeper they were in was normally only for the use of top officials it had a notice on the window declaring this. In the circumstances it was unlikely that anyone, except one of those high-ranking officials, would disturb them.

For Lotte their great good fortune in obtaining this compartment had another significance. It was to her a sign that this rescue was destined to succeed. Whatever God was looking down, of whatever persuasion, he or she was looking after Hannah.

For the first day the journey was smooth and uninterrupted. On the few occasions the steward entered their compartment Lotte requested that the bed remain down as she often suffered dreadful headaches and may need to lie upon it.

In peacetime the journey to Munich should have been completed in a day. As the railways were a major target for the Allied bombers there were substantial delays as trains were rerouted and tracks repaired. Trains travelled at much less than full speed in order to conserve fuel. Additional stops were made, sometimes unscheduled to pick up freight for transport. These days there was no clear distinction between the freight and passenger train.

They had one tricky moment when a very frail and elderly lady had got on to the train at Jena.

‘Please madam. This lady is too frail to stand. The rest of the train is jam-packed. She needs to sit. Surely you would not deny her that? She is only travelling a few stops and you have plenty of room.' The steward's plea was entirely reasonable. With Hannah on board it was dangerous to allow her in. If Lotte refused it could attract comment and unwanted scrutiny. Lotte had no choice. She had to agree.

Fortunately, the woman was almost blind and very hard of hearing so that she did not see Hannah on the folded bed. Nonetheless it was a relief when an hour after joining the train she got up and left, courteously assisted by Peter.

Lotte was tense as the miles rolled slowly by and they gradually got closer to their destination. They passed through towns and cities with names that were familiar, places she had never desired to visit. Some of them she had seen in her time as a film actress and mostly forgotten.

She marvelled at the devastation in Dresden, almost as bad as Berlin it seemed. Likewise in Chemnitz. Other smaller towns seemed completely empty and sad. Some names reminded her of the trip to the border with Berta and Albert. It was ten months since they had parted at Bodensee, the last time they had seen each other. It had been good to speak to her on the telephone. Thankfully Berta had been astute enough to understand the hidden message in her phone call.

* * *

The next day the train rumbled out of the station at Nuremberg. The significance of the name did not escape any on the train. ‘Such a beautiful city and such terrible laws named after it,' Peter complained bitterly.

Soon they were well into their journey and approaching their final destination of Munich. At least that was their purported destination for now. Once in Munich they would have to change trains to travel to Innsbruck and then find a way to Switzerland. That was a part of the trip they did not look forward to, for it was probable Hannah would have to hide in the trunk for the whole of the journey. With luck in a few hours they would at least reach Munich, as they were now approaching Ingolstadt, the penultimate station.

Suddenly and without warning the train braked sharply. Peter fell against Franz and elsewhere on the train passengers bumped into each other. Peter and Franz ran back into their compartment to check on Lotte and Hannah.

‘What's wrong? Why have we stopped?' Lotte asked. ‘We are not at a station.' They were still several hundred metres from Ingolstadt.

Peter pulled down the window of the train and leaned down to look out along the tracks. There was nothing ahead of them, except other trains. ‘I can't see anything blocking the way,' he shouted back through the open window.