Opposite Sides (54 page)

We’re doing all we can,
they were told. But those were empty words. Their rescuer had
little to offer. He had lost a quarter of the supply vehicles on
the way and it would be days before the rest of the convoy would
appear. They would have to dig in and continue to wait their turn.
Orders had stated most clearly that Hauptmann Resmel must go as far
east as possible until he made contact with the most easterly front
line army units but with only a handful of extra troops, his
problems were compounded and solved nothing.

The mud froze. The ground
became as hard as concrete but at least the remaining supply trucks
and tanks were able to move forward again. They slowly scraped
their underbellies over the icy mound between the deep wheel-made
ruts on either side. If an engine stopped, it remained silent for
ever. Men dug, pushed and shouldered those vehicles that still ran,
taking turns to coax them forward for neither day nor night gave
rest for either machinery or men.

Finally, Hans managed to
set up new depot centres along the way. It was just like an
expedition to the South Pole he had read about but he hoped he
would be more successful than Scott and bring his men through.
Slowly his unit edged forwards until it felt as if they had reached
the place where the sun itself arose but his efforts had paid and
he had opened a pathway to move supplies and equipment to those
soldiers on the front lines.

There was hardly enough
time to take a breath before they heard the announcement that
Germany was at war with the United States. The Reich was to fight
the largest industrialised country in the world. An even greater
effort would be required to satisfy the endless demands of this
monstrous war machine.

CHAPTER
18

Africa

Hauptmann
Resmel was back in Germany by early December. A light dusting of
snow brought back memories of the eastern front and he could not
keep out the dismal thoughts of the floundering battalions
struggling back from a snow-bound Russian landscape. What he had
seen this time nourished his seeds of doubt about Hitler’s war.
Like many of the front line veterans,
die
alte Hasen,
who had lived through the
hardships of the eastern front, Hans found himself becoming
distrustful about some of the things Goebbels was broadcasting
about this war. This time when he visited home, he found himself
arguing bitterly with Uncle Karl, especially when he was told how
marvellous everything was going for Renard on board one of the
North Atlantic wolf-pack submarines. Renard’s exploits were far
more interesting and he had always been seen as the one who was
prepared to take risks . . . and seemingly delighting in relating
them.

What did his uncle really
know about the war? Uncle Karl could only see the extra business
and money it had brought him. Renard was securely canned in his tin
boat, secretly sneaking under the surface of the Atlantic. In his
letters, Renard only wrote about the excitement and the thrill of
the hunt. He did not share in the intimacy of suffering and misery
that Hans had witnessed on the battlefield. How could he, when all
Renard could see was a far-off death plunge of some huge
metal-hulled whale through the end of a periscope?

Hans had been close
enough to witness some of the unbelievable cruelty that one human
being could do to another. The battlefield was not for those who
were sensitive or weak. It was a cruel world.

One evening, after Uncle
Karl and Aunt Laura had gone to bed, Hans was able to talk frankly
with his younger brother.

“
Stay out of
this mess as long as you can, Axel. I do not think this war is
doing any of us much good.”

“
I’ve never
agreed with what the government is doing.” Axel hoped he could
trust his elder brother for he was putting his life on the line. “I
dread Renard’s home-coming. All he does is talk politics and how
great everything is since the National Socialists have taken over.
But what does he know? He is not here to see the misery his friends
cause. And he boasts to uncle about his submarine and how good the
hunting is and how every woman on this planet worships the ground
beneath his feet.”

“
What do they
say about sailors? A whore in every port?”

“
I hope not
for Hertha’s sake.”

“
Hertha?”

“
His latest.
Did you not know his marriage is in tatters?”

“
I’ve
suspected as much but Renard has never come out with
it.”

“
He’s not
convinced me that every woman on this planet worships him like some
Tutonic god. His female companions never seem to last and I wonder
how long Hertha will put up with him. All he talks about is how the
National Socialists will end up ruling the world. He really does
believe in the thousand year Reich.”

“
I doubt that
will be the case, Axel. But what about uncle? What does he think? I
get the impression he has changed.”

“
Ach, uncle’s
all for them now. With Renard’s blathering and party funds helping,
uncle’s business is now being propped up by cheap, cheap
labour.”

“
From where?
I thought most men have been drafted.”

“
Foreign
labour. Brought in from countries we control. Poles, Czechs,
Belgians and Dutch among others. They do not want to work for us
but they have no choice because they have no rights.”

“
And that has
made uncle a happier man?”

“
Not really.
He’s always on edge. He has quotas to fill and orders to obey and
we have to watch the workers all the time. Sabotage is
rife.”

“
I see.” Hans
looked seriously at his brother as he knitted his brows tightly
together.

“
Uncle moans
about the extra taxes he now has to pay. Good for one’s position in
society, it is said. A handful of money goes a long way to keeping
certain officials at bay and it keeps them in a happy mood. Cannot
say that about his workers.”

“
They do not
like working for uncle?”

“
Would you on
meagre rations and long hours? It is slave labour by any other
name. Surely, your department knows something about
that?”

Hans did not answer his
brother’s question. It had nothing to do with the department he was
under. Each department had a duty and they kept their noses out of
the affairs of others. It was better that way, if you were to
survive scrutiny from the Gestapo or SS.

He walked casually over
to the sideboard and took out two glasses.

“
Beer,
Axel?”

“
Thanks.”

Hans filled the glasses
and joined his brother at the table.

“
You still
work at the factory I gather?”

“
Yes. Not as
an engineer but in an advisory capacity, on paper, that is. Uncle
tells them the production would fall without my input.”

“
And would
it?”

“
Probably not
but they are not to know. I just fill in the forms and add up the
numbers and keep my head down but I’m not happy about it. I do know
someone from my university days who has been trying to help some of
the workers in other factories but I don’t know if I am ready for
that.”

“
Do be
careful, Axel. What you are thinking is extremely
dangerous.”

“
I realise
that but in the meantime, it pays my bills.” He took a long drink
and the beer froth covered his top lip like a moustache. “I’m glad
I’m not in your position . . . a man at the front. I don’t think I
could ever harm, let alone shoot another human being. It’s against
everything I believe in.”

“
Matter of
having to when it’s a case of shoot first or be shot. War is no
fun, Axel, whatever Renard may say.”

“
I’ve already
come to that conclusion. I’ve not walked around the city like a
blind man. I have seen those who have been injured.” He leaned
forward towards Hans and dropped his voice as though the room had
been bugged. “I’ve seen what those black-shirted thugs do to those
who are forced to wear the star.”

“
You mean the
Jews?”

“
Yes.”

“
Come to
think of it, Axel, I have not seen many around the city this time.”
Hans poured more beer into his glass and offered the bottle to
Axel.

“
No thanks. I
still have plenty. The Jewish areas we used to know have all but
disappeared. Have you heard what is going on?”

“
Nothing more
than general gossip.” Hans sat upright and leaned back against the
chair back as if distancing himself from the subject. “If there is
anything more, it will be classified and consequently has nothing
to do with the department I am attached to. Our area is only
concerned with gathering information about enemy prisoners but from
what little I have heard, is that the Jews work for the Reich in
return for their keep.”

“
I cannot
believe that applies to all of them.”

“
The papers I
have seen say that special family labour camps have been set up so
they can be close to their work. The government line is that those
who are fit enough now have to work for us rather than milking the
German public as they had done in the past.”

“
They can’t
all be employed in the factories and such like, can they?” Axel
appeared genuinely concerned. “What about the older ones or
children? It just does not add up in my books.”

“
Do not
openly question the official line, Axel. It is too dangerous. They
need to be able see your loyalty. Never dare to say what’s on your
mind. That, you must keep to yourself. You realise, brother, I have
never spoken to anyone as openly as we have done tonight. What we
have discussed could be taken as treason by some so I ask that our
conversation goes no further than these walls, not even a mention
to aunt or uncle.”

Axel swallowed the last
of his drink in one audible gulp and began telling Hans about what
he had seen a week ago in one of the side streets not far from
Leipziger Platz. As he began to describe what he had seen, Axel
drizzled the rest of the beer from the bottle into his glass. He
described how he had seen one of the black-uniformed men kick a
young woman for no other reason than she was wearing a yellow star.
That act of violence on the street had made him feel sick and he
wanted very much to go over and punch the offender. The worst of
it, he lamented, was that no-one dared interfere and acted as
though it were just a normal part of everyday life.

“
. . . which
it is now,” he concluded, looking deeply into his rocking glass of
untouched beer. “Where has our humanity gone when people aree
prepared to look the other way and do nothing?”

“
I do not
have an answer for you.” Hans gritted his teeth and the muscles in
his cheeks grew hard and unyielding.

“
Why should I
turn a blind eye to such cruelty?” Axel clenched his hand into a
ball and banged heavily down on the table.

“
Careful, or
you will have that drink over,” Hans warned.

“
Damn the
drink! It’s only beer! Why should people do things like
that?”

Hans felt upset by seeing
his younger brother in such a turmoil.

“
I can’t
understand how Renard can be so friendly with such men!” The words
exploded and bounced around the kitchen walls before Hans had time
to think about his own association with men like Ott and
Streiter.

“
Shh! You
keep your voice down.” Axel hissed the warning like a deflating
tyre and pointed upwards at the ceiling. “Uncle might hear. He
thinks Renard’s the hero of our family.”

“
Do
you?”

“
He’s been
decorated twice. I guess that makes him a hero.”

“
And do you
really think that makes him one?” The question was quite sneering
in its delivery.

“
Renard
certainly acts that way whenever he comes here on leave. He brags
about how good life is for him in the Kriegsmarine.”

They discussed the war a
little longer and then Axel made a disparaging remark about the
propaganda minister.

“
Now you take
care, little brother. Drink your beer up and learn to hold your
tongue. Criticising the government is a crime. In my case it would
result in an instant court-martial. For you, it may mean death.”
Hans warned his brother by stressing the words with his
finger.

“
I realise
and I would never say anything like that if uncle was around.
University taught me more than just my studies. I heard what
happened to those students who were against the Nazis . . . and I
do not intend to go that way.”

“
So keep well
away from any anti-government groups, Axel. Don’t get mixed up with
them or it will turn out nasty. I’d like to think I will be around
to see the end of this war. And I hope you will, also.”

Axel got up and took his
glass to the sink. When he returned, he patted Hans on the arm in
brotherly comradship.

“
Renard tells
us you are going out with a lady from Neubrandenburg.” Axel swung
his head downwards and grinned into the face of his older brother.
“Says you have him to thank for that.”