“You must go and find Kate, out in the Beelitz hospital,” said Mother, “and bring her here. We can’t offer her much security but at least she won’t be all by herself, or worse, with all those soldiers, wounded or not.”
Nadja and Anna were kneeling on the floor, going over the dirtiest areas for the second time this morning. The house had been in indescribable condition on their return. Everything of value had been looted, including the bicycles, except for the training one, carpets cut up and left wet in the back yard, covered in pea soup and feces, but at least their beds were still there (and so were other people’s, who began to arrive and retrieve their property). Bedding and blankets were missing, but the girls discovered the wet laundry left behind in the basement when they fled, and rinsed it and hung it up to dry. There were enough sheets and pillowcases to cover four beds. Foffie would have to make do with a torn window curtain for the time being.
Lilly had gone home to her Aunt’s house.
A package of DDT powder was a gift from the orphanage, when they were preparing to go. Sister Otti had predicted there would be fleas and lice in their near future, and how right she was. The girls had covered the mattresses with the powder and spread the sheets on top, right over the pillows. They didn’t like the smell of the powder, but for the moment, there seemed to be no other way. Tomorrow they would turn all the mattresses over and treat the other side.
The clanking sound in the laundry tub, when they lifted the wet, smelly sheets, had turned out to be Mother’s pearls. They had all stood looking at them for a long time. How could these possibly have made their way into the laundry? Had Mother worn them to bed one night? Had she ever? Could she possibly have, in a state of —?
Mother had been furious: those pearls had not left their velvet box in many months.
The box was missing, not surprisingly, since everything was. Everything not nailed down.
“Think, Mother,” said Nadja, “did Tatyana ever help you close the clasp? Did she? Ever?” Mother put her hands together, her eyes lighting up.
“Yes. Yes, she did. Twice, I think. I was on my way to the concert. Last year it was, and another time—”
“Did she see you take the box out of the drawer?”
“She knew where I kept it. And yes, I agree with what you’re thinking. Tatyana did it. She saved my pearls for us.” Mother sobbed. “How smart of her. And how kind.”
“Looks like she had her world collapse around her ears once before, doesn’t it?” said Anna. “But we knew that. She learned a few things. And now she has lost everything.”
Mother began talking about Kate again, the sister-in-law. And her promise that they would come for Kate and bring her back with them.
“Do you think it’s such a good idea to set off just on the assumption that she’s still there? We can’t check what’s going on — and if the Russians are there, which is very likely, then they won’t let her go with me. After all, she is a nurse and they have all these wounded on their hands. I just don’t know.”
Anna stood up and dried her hands.
“Do you know how far Beelitz is from here? It’s way past Potsdam and we have no idea if any kind of train or bus may be going. It’s at least 60 or 70 kilometres. They’re still shooting up the city, Mother. I just—”
“We PROMISED to come and bring her home with us. I told her superior on the phone!” Mother was fretting.
“But we were cut off, remember?”
“She was so afraid of the Russians, so terrified of being shipped away somewhere. I just think it would be better if she were here with us, that’s all.”
Mother’s eyes were pleading. Last night, on seeing the house, she had almost seemed to despair of ever having a semblance of ordered life again, a sense of predictability. It had all been too much. And the girls noticed she avoided going near the study, so they kept the door closed, planning to return all the salvageable books to the shelves later. They would throw out the ruined photo albums in secret.
Anna couldn’t have said what eventually changed her mind, but she put on her boots, a pair of worn skiing pants, for the weather had turned cold and wet again, and took a little bread and water, her head covered in the grey scarf.
She looked at the city map that was left in Father’s desk. Yes, she had to head in the general direction of Potsdam, and then beyond, south-west. She first would move along the outskirts, just make her way along the main routes, in hopes that someone, somehow, could show her the way through the rubble, someone who didn’t depend on street signs.
And so she began walking along the auto route once again, in the direction of the city, the endless streams of Red Army vehicles no longer part of the environment. Not for now. There was no activity in the air and the rolling thunder of artillery had ceased, though in the distance rumbling could be heard now and then. She was making good headway on the right side of the road when she heard a light truck coughing and snuffling behind her, then stop.
“Anna, is that you Anna? Where are you going? Want to hop in for a stretch?” Anna looked at the driver and his companion, the couple that were running the makeshift grocery store about a kilometre from her house. Though this vehicle looked as though Anna would be pushing it in a few minutes, she gratefully climbed in.
“We’re not going as far as Potsdam,” the grocer said, “but we can take you a ways and then, who knows? Let’s see.”
Anna couldn’t believe her good luck. This couple was on the way to a farm just east of the city, where they hoped to get potatoes and maybe carrots or beets for the store. Anything to help their customers.
“You are so lucky to have gasoline,” Anna said, but thought better not to enquire too closely into where it might have come from.
“Bartered,” the wife volunteered, grinning, “it’s for a good cause.” And so it was. They didn’t ask Anna how the family had fared, knowing that people lied and wouldn’t want to be reminded of a terror barely a week past.
“Anyway, there will be a new ration card system one of these days, and then we can expect to get orderly supplies and everything,” she added.
“Let’s hope so,” said Anna. “We have absolutely nothing left at all. Oh, not true, we have a pound of salt,” she laughed.
“You do?” said the man. “You’re in good shape then. Take it out to a farm around here, any farm, and ask what they’ll give you for it. The farmers are out of salt, and they need it badly for the animals. Have to have salt.”
“Really! Thank you so much for the tip,” said Anna. “I would have never thought of it.” Mother would be thrilled to hear this.
They passed smashed tank barriers, with groups of German PoWs attempting to move single parts to the side and picking retrievable materials out of the mess. Russian soldiers with rifles slung over their shoulders stood guard. A little farther along a bakery was open, sporting a long line-up. Civilians were on the move everywhere, pushing or pulling contraptions on wheels. Two men with shovels were filling in a crater by the side of the road, dumping in debris of every description.
“There’s a rumour that Hitler’s dead,” said the woman, with a glance at Anna. “Fought along with his soldiers, right to the end, or so we’re told.”
“Really?” said Anna. “That’s hard to believe, isn’t it? I mean he’s so much larger than life. I can’t imagine it’s true. You?”
“That he’s dead or that he fought alongside his troops?”
“Well,” said the man, “what is he to do? Where can he go? He was definitely here in Berlin, in his bunker at the Reichskanzlei. Not in Bavaria. And get this: word’s out that he married his girlfriend.”
“That Eva Braun!” said the woman.
“Heavens!” said Anna. “You’d think he had other matters on his mind. I mean, they’re STILL not finished fighting, though it can’t be long now. The Russians have been in Berlin for eight days already, and out here there was no resistance to speak of.” And after a moment, “I hate what he’s done to the world. I HATE him. I don’t care if he’s dead. I hope it’s true.”
The man stopped at a corner. In his usual quiet manner, he said, “we have to go out of your way now. But this is just past Reinickendorf. If you keep going the way the bus used to, remember? Just ask people, if you lose your orientation. We got totally lost the other day. Good luck, Anna.”
“And good luck to you too. You’re pretty brave,” said Anna, “and thank you for the ride!”
Anna jumped out and began walking through streets and boulevards that had turned into obstacle courses of formidable proportions. Burned out tanks and other vehicles were blocking roads here too and the sidewalks were pockmarked with craters, large chunks torn out of walls and buildings, entire blocks down in rubble, just as she had seen downtown for so many months now. She kept walking, still sure of her direction. At about midday, she sat on a small concrete block and took out a piece of bread, and her bottle of water.
The motorcycle with the sidecar stopped right in front of her. A most unlikely sight: a woman in a sailor’s hat and sunglasses smiled at her and held out a piece of paper. Did Anna know if she was going in the right direction? The woman spoke with what seemed like a Balkan accent, and was groping for words.
“I can’t be entirely sure,” Anna said, “but I think you’re going in the right direction if you’re looking for Badstrasse. At least I hope so, because I have to go past there too, and as you see, I’m headed the same way.”
The woman’s face lit up.
“We go together,” she called out. “You take the sewing machine legs.”
She got out, struggled with an ancient Pfaff, business end folded down, and invited Anna to squish underneath it in the sidecar.
They took off. She was Hungarian, a dancer in a cabaret originally, who had been entertaining the German troops when she met her fiancé, a Major, but now she didn’t know if he was alive. Her language salad contained foreign bits that Anna understood, and then some she didn’t, but it was hugely enjoyable to listen to this confident, energetic, optimistic and appealing young woman. Anna did not ultimately get the part about what the sewing machine was going to be doing at Badstrasse, but it didn’t much matter. She in turn wasn’t sure whether or not she had properly conveyed her own plans for rescuing Kate, a nurse in a big field hospital, at Beelitz Heilstätten. From what Anna could deduce, the trip seemed perfectly sound to her companion, now that the war was practically over.
Once they stopped to ask women lined up at a water pump if they were going the right way, and they were.
“How will you go to the hospital?” asked the woman, when they had stopped in front of the battered but habitable building and were dragging the heavy contraption to the entrance.
“I’ll walk,” said Anna. “Thank you so much. I have so enjoyed our ride. Good luck to you, get home safely.” The woman kissed her, laughing with her eyes, nose and mouth. And Anna laughed back, waving. And started walking. A moment later a man leaned out a window, calling after her.
“You, young lady! You’re going in the wrong direction. There’s a chance you can catch a shuttle out to Potsdam. Come back.” Anna turned around.
“If you wait a few minutes, I’ll drive you to the terminal where they were supposed to have a local starting today, just a shuttle. The S-Bahn and the subways are still under water, nothing’s moving there. I’m Karl. Just wait here.”
The sidecar was more comfortable minus the Pfaff, but Karl wasn’t nearly as amusing as Eva had been. Many people were swarming around the terminal, but an official came out and told them there would be no transportation today.
“Start walking,” he said. “Maybe next week we’ll have a train.”
Karl had driven Anna much farther than originally promised, and she insisted that he turn around now.
“I’ll follow the tracks,” she said. “The S-Bahn stations will be my compass. Besides, look at all these other people. They know where they’re going. You have been very generous, really.”
So Karl turned and left. And Anna began walking again, stepping on the railway ties in long strides. It was mid-afternoon and she hoped to get close to her goal before the curfew at ten. She was walking towards Wannsee now, through the southern suburbs of the city. Soviet troops, wherever encountered, were in a festive, exhilarated state, in search of booze or in clear possession, and, once again it was a good idea for Anna and other young women to stay right out in the open. They walked and walked, quieter now, exhausted from striding along on the ties. But few seemed to be leaving the group.
Finally, Anna, after having stumbled and fallen a couple of times, decided to jump down an embankment and make her way along a sidewalk in a neighbourhood of small bungalows set in neat, well-kept gardens. She found a few stone steps, just out of sight of the military traffic, and sat down to eat the rest of her bread and drank her water. She hadn’t been aware of her hunger, but was famished. She closed her eyes for a moment, just a moment, and was startled awake by a woman’s voice behind her.
“My dear child, you won’t be able to stay out here. It’s almost curfew. Come in. You can stay overnight. We have a good hiding place for you.”
Anna turned around and saw a tall, motherly woman in her fifties. It was almost dark, and Anna began feeling chilly. And so Anna struggled up the remaining steps and followed her into the house.
Fortified with a cup of real coffee and a hot bowl of cream of wheat, Anna took off at 7.30 am, returning to the railway tracks and pointing in the direction of Potsdam. Few fellow travelers were about at this early hour, but she had her directions and made good progress. A railroad worker told her she could bypass the town and make a shortcut.
Walking along beside the tracks now, woods on both sides, she came upon a group of German PoWs with shovels, making their way along the embankment, accompanied by two Soviet soldiers. Some waved to her and she waved back. On and on she walked, and eventually she spied a series of large buildings set in the woods, and saw a great many Soviet medical personnel around the entrances, with ambulances in a parking lot. She walked into the compound and approached one of the women.
“Excuse me, are there any German nurses left here? I’m looking for a relative.” She seemed to understand what Anna wanted and pointed to a building at the very end of the compound. Anna walked past more entrances and personnel and found the department she was looking for. On the second floor, two young women, unmistakably in German nurses’ uniforms, looked at her with curiosity.
“I’ve come looking for a relative, Kate Straub,” Anna said. “Is she here? Do you know anything about her?” The two women pushed a comfortable chair over to where Anna was standing and invited her to sit down.
“We just made some tea,” said one. “Do you take sugar in yours?”
“Yes, thank you,” said Anna, “if you have any, I prefer that.” And she took her steaming cup.
“Now, how on earth did you get here? Where have you come from? No, Kate isn’t here any more. She left yesterday, with the very last transport of wounded that got out for the West. We stayed behind because we’re from Berlin. We are a kind of liaison committee, handing over the complex.” Anna slumped in her chair.
She drank more tea, then told her story.
“Well, in a way I don’t know why I feel disappointed,” she said. “All we wanted was to see her looked after. It looks like this was the best possible outcome for her. Good news.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said the nurses. “Because the Russians had been here already, and there was chaos, but they didn’t stay for long. The Army Wenck—”
“What? The Army Wenck? They came here and bailed you out, beat back the front?” said Anna, incredulous, remembering that just a few days ago that same Army Wenck was to also push through Russian tank corps and allow a breakthrough for encircled troops, and relieve the weak units on the northern outskirts of Berlin and so on, according to the Sergeant and the Corporals.
“Yes, they came and secured the area around here, and so we were able to move almost three thousand men to a convoy of trucks down behind here, on the autobahn.”
“You moved three thousand wounded? Weren’t there grenades exploding all over the place? How did you do it?” Anna asked.
“We wheeled their beds down behind the buildings and right onto the autobahn, and the trucks took them away in a convoy, heading west. Some could walk. We got them all out. Kate climbed into one of the last trucks and left.” Anna stared. “There was heavy shelling, yes. We had casualties, but the vast majority got moved. It didn’t last, of course. Our soldiers had no ammunition left. Nothing. So they pulled back, retreated.”
“And you two were all alone? Haven’t you—” Anna stopped.
“No. We’ve been treated with respect. Some of the doctors speak German. They’re just complaining about the lack of sterility and such things, but how can we supply them with anything like that under these conditions? There’s no hydro. No gas. We made this tea on a Bunsen burner.”
The nurses fed Anna a huge late lunch of sandwiches, cheese and more tea. Then said she should probably sleep over and start out bright and early the next morning, but Anna felt restless and thought it best to get going.
“Just show me where Kate used to work,” she said, getting up. “Can we go there or is it-?” They walked her outside and pointed at a window on the ground floor of one of the buildings. Then they accompanied her to the railroad tracks for the long return trip.
“Thank you so much,” Anna shouted, “and take care!”
She felt energized, and was more confident that she would find her way back.
Walking beside the tracks once again she thought she heard a train approaching and turned around. There, behind her, appeared the most astonishing sight: a single steam engine, freshly lacquered in shiny black, with India-red wheels, and a Soviet officer, young and proud, at the controls. The engine raced past her and disappeared in the distance. For a moment Anna thought this hadn’t been real, had been a prop from the nearby Babelsberg movie studios, but no, a few minutes later, the same engine reappeared, with the laughing officer, going in the opposite direction. She kept walking, smiling to herself. After an hour or so, she encountered the work detail of PoWs that she had spotted earlier in the day, shoveling pebbles by the tracks. Just then, the colourful toy engine reappeared once more, and one of the soldiers called out to her, “see him? He’s the railroad commander. Never seen such a happy man, playing like a kid.” Anna had to laugh.
And she walked on, reaching Potsdam at last, drinking from her bottle of cold tea now and then.
There she decided to return to the road in hopes of catching perhaps a short ride and stopped from time to time, checking behind her for a vehicle. When she saw an immense, high army truck lumbering up, she quickly turned away from the street and began walking again, but the young driver had seen her and slowed down. The soldier next to him in the cab opened the door and asked Anna if she was going ‘that way’, pointing, but Anna said it was alright, she didn’t need a lift. Next the two young men climbed down and eagerly waved her to the back of the enormous truck, and pointed to a metal ladder she was to scale. They looked trustworthy, and Anna decided to accept their invitation, her heart pounding. When they had driven for a few moments, the driver stopped and got out and came to the rear.
“Oh God, I’m in for it,” Anna thought, but he signaled that they were to approach several underpasses soon and she was to lean way down so as to be safe up there. And when they reached them Anna flattened herself right on top of the greasy canisters, sealed with an orange jelly, and sat up again.
Soon they passed the southern city outskirts, or so Anna hoped, but the truck didn’t drive into the city. It remained on the periphery, while Anna, scanning traffic signs and other items of orientation, assumed she was still pointed the right way. Unexpectedly, the truck stopped in the middle of nowhere. They had just passed a small kiosk on the right side of the road, surrounded by birch trees and underbrush. Anna thought the men were going to take a pee and looked away, but the driver walked back to the kiosk and returned with three small cans of a lemonade-like drink, handed two to his chum and climbed up to where Anna could reach the third, and handed it over.
Around this time it must have occurred to the young soldiers that they were highly likely in deep trouble if caught transporting an enemy on top of their ammunitions truck.
So they drove another two kilometres, then stopped to let her off somewhere in the middle of the ruins.
Anna climbed down from her perch, and shook the hands of the two soldiers, barely older than she was.
Relieved, she began walking on, not entirely sure where she was going, but expecting to get her orientation presently.