The following Saturday, wearing a navy flannel track suit and her aunt’s tennis shoes, a bursting knapsack on her back, Anna wandered the early morning tracks of the Braunschweig railroad yards, ducking behind carts, pressing against freight cars to let an engine pass, clearly trespassing, potentially in trouble. There were very few people about at this hour. She knew what she was looking for, had been instructed to look at the front of the larger steam engines and search out one with a registration plate that contained a 5 and two zeros, then find the crew and plead. “Cry crocodile tears,” Mr. G. had said, “that’ll get them going. You’ll see.” But Father had looked terribly troubled. In the kitchen Tante Marianne had shown her a bottle of home brewed Schnaps from the countryside, a high percentage vodka-like liquid, firmly stoppered, and had instructed Anna to hold the tears and to look them firmly in the eye, and show the bottle. Business is business.
“I am going to Berlin,” she was to say, not “Could you please think of a way, sob, sob …?” and she understood, except she had never even tipped anyone, let alone bribed. She was to focus on the deal, calmly: They have what I want, and in turn they want my bottle. She was not to focus on the danger the engineer and fireman would face if they took her, because with this method, they would be blamed if she were found. It was their decision, take it or leave it.
“Are you looking for anyone?” asked a railway man walking among the tracks. “If you are looking for the freight for Berlin, it’s over there, but I should warn you, the Russians poke among the potatoes and rutabagas with long poles, they take their time, and they find everybody.
What’s more, they don’t send you back where you came from, they keep you there. Not fun. I don’t want to be too discouraging, but I would think about it if I were you. Such a pretty girl.”
He walked on. Letting her decide.
“Excuse me,” Anna’s voice wobbled just a little. “Are YOU going to be on that train? Are you driving it?”
“Nope. That would be my friend Charlie. Shall I take him a message?”
“Yes, please. If his engine has a 5006 registration number or something similar, then he is my man,” Anna said, wondering if she had taken leave of her senses, and taking her bottle out of the knapsack. The ticket only contained a handwritten note of the alcohol content, nothing else, but it seemed to inspire her new friend.
“My name is Anna,” she said and extended her hand, “and yours?”
“Gerhard,” he said, “I feed the fire. Where do you get that stuff about the registration number and that? I don’t want to be difficult. Just curious.”
“Oh, a woman told us. She um, she came across from Berlin not long ago.”
“Really? She did?”
“Yeah, that’s what she said,” Anna lied.
“Look, don’t hand over the bottle until you see what you have to do to get across, okay? You may want to change your mind. But Charlie, he likes his booze. He may not want to give it back. Get it?”
Anna got it.
They entered a cozy wood shack sitting between platforms, away from the passenger terminal.
Charlie she did not like as much as Gerhard. He was a heavy-set man, with full lips and greasy hair, not at all the type one pictured driving an engine. He looked up when they entered, and Gerhard said a few cautious words by way of introduction.
Charlie looked her up and down.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Sixteen,” said Anna. The other men left the room, sensing that weighty negotiations were about to take place.
“Well, you might have to stand up to your navel in cold water for hours,” said Charlie, “and these days, of course, we never know how many hours they’re going to search at the border. We could only get you out after we’re on our way again. Understand?” Anna nodded.
“Where is the cold water? I never—”
“In a cabinet on the engine, right in front.”
“There IS an alternative,” Gerhard interrupted. “I don’t want to —”
“Yes. You claustrophobic?”
“What is that exactly? A friend of mine was, but—”
“You might be okay. Come with me.”
Charlie, Gerhard and Anna trotted out and walked along the tracks in search of their train. When they stood in front of the immense engine, Anna felt terrified and oddly comforted at the same time. Charlie picked up a tool and removed a heavy plate above the front wheels.
“How much do you weigh, girl?”
“I don’t know. A hundred and fifteen pounds maybe, something like that.”
“You’ll fit. Now take off your knapsack. We’ll have to keep that on the engine, but don’t worry. Look in here. See those pipes? Now squat. Show me how to fold yourself into a tight package. Very tight, arms around your knees, face down. Okay, looks good. Keep away from those pipes. As soon as we’ve crossed the border and can safely stop, we’ll get you out, and you can go the rest of the way on the engine with us, understand? You can open this plate from the inside, THEORETICALLY, BUT NEVER EN ROUTE, and absolutely not when we are stopped either, because there may be one of the Russian guards standing right in front of you. They don’t have a sense of humour. I don’t want them shooting up my engine, get it? So stay put, till we come and get you out. No matter how long it takes. There’s no way they’ll believe someone ELSE put you in there, other than us. If we’re caught—”
“Right,” Anna said and she handed over the Schnapps. Charlie took charge of the bottle and Gerhard looked on, uneasily, Anna thought.
An hour later the train had left the yards and rumbled out into the countryside in the direction of the Soviet Zone of Occupation, and Berlin, and the border that was not under any circumstances to be crossed by unauthorized persons, such as Anna. Gerhard had told her how long it would take to get to the checkpoint, but she didn’t have a watch, and couldn’t have moved her arm to look at it if she had. So she decided to focus entirely on her goal, picturing in detail the different stations of the city train, the S-Bahn, which she would have to pass in order to get home. She imagined the faces of Mother, Korinna and Foffie and their surprise to see her back, over and over again, thought of the butter, bread, honey, shoes for Foffie, sausages, each and every item in the knapsack she would unpack in her mind’s eye, give the little presents from Tante Marianne to each of them over and over again. Also, she remembered the excitement and encouragement she had felt in that one art class she was able to attend before leaving.
“You will be back,” the teacher had said, “I know you will. Good luck, my child.”
The train stopped. For a moment there was absolute silence, then she could hear loud voices beside the engine, shouts in Russian and German, someone banging with a metal object against what seemed like the wheels. What would they do with her if they found her here? What would they do with the crew? Had they ever discovered anyone in this space? She had forgotten to ask, or maybe didn’t want to know. But if they had been caught, would these two have been in any mood to make a deal with her?
The voices trailed off, but banging against the undercarriages continued for a few minutes. After a very long silence several shots were fired, then followed another long silence, for what seemed like an hour. Anna became aware of her muscles, her shoulders were aching, and she wanted to move her feet, except there was no room for that, so she moved her toes. She thought of each toe and tried to wiggle it separately, but failed. Then she wiggled her big toes, taking turns, next playing with her fingers, imagining she was holding her recorder, playing the Telemann piece she knew by heart.
Eventually the voices returned, only German this time, shouting very loudly right in front of her, it seemed, something about taking off shortly, and then the train started moving again. It didn’t really pick up speed, Anna noticed, and was about to worry, when it slowed down altogether, and stopped, with a scratch and a bang, and daylight flooded into her prison. Gerhard reached in and gave her a hand to help her squeeze out and straighten. How wonderful it felt to be able to stretch, what a relief! Charlie had remained up on the engine and pointed to the steel ladder with what seemed like an exaggerated gesture of welcome, and Anna climbed up.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” she said. “I’ve never been on an engine before. What an adventure to travel like this.”
“You bet,” said Charlie, and he put his arm around her middle, squeezing hard. Anna thought she smelled alcohol on his breath and felt alarmed, but she saw Gerhard behind them, shoveling coal into the fire to keep them going.
The train picked up speed, and Anna stood back a little to avoid being seen, if they came to a railroad crossing or passed through a town, but there was no one about and the men didn’t seem concerned. Anna soon learned how little attention the engine seemed to require because Charlie kept turning around, swinging the bottle in his left hand, taking generous swigs and grabbing for Anna’s waist.
“Here, give Charlie a little kiss,” he mumbled, yanking her arm.
“No, Charlie, I don’t want to kiss you at all,” Anna said loudly, and pushed him away, but it didn’t discourage him. Briefly, he would pay attention to his official responsibilities, then take another generous drink, offer one to Anna and Gerhard, who both declined, and make more ardent demands on Anna for a little kiss.
“Look Charlie,” said Gerhard, “why don’t you leave the girl alone? You’re a little drunk, you know.” And for a moment Charlie would make like an engineer, and whistle even, giggling to himself. Then, when Anna thought he might have given up the idea of more snuggling, he would suddenly yank her in front and cover her cheeks with his kisses, forcing her face towards him as she turned away, and pushing his body against hers.
“Gerhard, help me!” she yelled, but he was making a terrible racket with the coal shovel and didn’t hear. Those were the moments Charlie chose to attack, when Gerhard was otherwise engaged. She finally raised her knee and kicked him hard, and for a terrible moment thought he would topple right off the engine, but he grabbed on to familiar gear and steadied himself. She waited until Gerhard stood quietly by, then shouted, “Charlie, if you touch me again, so help me, I’ll kill you,” her eyes ferocious in her anger. And this time Gerhard came to her rescue. He took the bottle from Charlie, tucked it in among the coal, and said he would not return it until they had arrived in Berlin.
“I don’t want to be a drag, Charlie, but you’ve had enough for today.” He reminded Charlie of another time when he had been caught blotto on duty, and was nearly fired, after thirty years on the job. Did he really want to risk it?
Charlie became almost meek, his speech slurred, and he swayed back and forth behind the window.
“Don’t worry,” said Gerhard, “he’ll bring the train in. He’s like a horse. Nothing keeps him away from the barn.”
“Where are you actually going?” asked Anna. “Where can you let me off?”
“We’re passing an S-Bahn station in the city. We could stop there for a second, couldn’t we, Charlie? Couldn’t we, Charlie?”
Charlie had had other plans, it appeared, but finally agreed.
“You are a very lucky girl. I hope you appreciate that,” he mumbled, “they got twenty-two guys out of those box cars. Twenty-two under the potatoes and the rutabagas. I just hope they let them go. But each trip there are more. Soldiers want to go home. Home to Mama.”
“Oh God,” said Anna.
When they stopped at the S-Bahn and she climbed down to the platform, with Gerhard passing her knapsack, and shaking her hand, two lone figures extricated themselves from open freight cars and jumped onto the pockmarked ramp at the end. Gerhard laughed and waved. Anna waved too. Then, elated, she walked down into the underpass, bought a ticket and waited for her train home.