Anne is returning from a late-night assignment downtown, dog tired, and the train is crammed to the rafters again, people bent over the lucky ones in seats. Waiting for the next train makes no sense. Twenty minutes later the same picture will present itself and it might be worse — too crowded for anyone to get in at all. A lot of the rolling stock has been destroyed in the air raids, so the trains carry fewer cars.
It’s a noisy bunch that surrounds her and spills well into the aisle. Red and smiling faces all around and collectively they are reviewing a reception, dissecting and evaluating and giggling as they remember the more risqué remarks by someone’s uncle.
“Someone always gets up at a wedding and says all the wrong things,” says an older woman clutching the leather strap above her head.
“Oh, that old stuff about the barn — let’s face it, we’ve all heard it before. If the kids hadn’t smoked in there, it would have been struck by lightning or something. Burned down. All the neighbours got together and… let me finish Willy, let me finish… let me …”
“But did you hear the new Goebbels joke? Hahahaha……he walks up to this skiing instructor, and he hahahaha…”
“What was that about, Erich? I didn’t hear that. Who had the new Goebbels joke?”
“Well, Goebbels decides to learn to ski, so he gets himself this nifty outfit, red, white and black…. hahahahaha… and he walks up to this, to this… hahahahaha….”
“Will you get on with it already? Let’s have it or shut up!”
“Wasn’t that the most fabulous cucumber salad, though? I don’t think I ever had it with these peppermint leaves, and the beets! I could have polished off the entire platter by myself. Irma made it, I think. Yes, and Ulla made that fabulous herring salad with those apples and potatoes — made that herself. Where do you think they found all those eggs for the amazing cake? There must have been at least two dozen eggs, peace time style.”
“Well, you know that Uncle, the one with the barn story? Doesn’t he still…?”
“And didn’t Ulla look absolutely lovely? Such a beautiful bride — not sure I’m crazy about that baby blue dress, mind you…”
“Yes, and those puffy little sleeves. They were going to try and use her grandmother’s wedding dress, but they couldn’t get it to fit seeing she’s six months along.”
“That short, cheerful little veil did look awfully cute on Ulla, though.”
“When she danced with her dad, he bawled and bawled…”
“Oh, come on, wouldn’t you? Under the circumstances? Yikes.”
“Did you get to try some of that Aquavit, Erich?”
“Are you kidding? Did he get to try it? He finished both bottles all by himself. Look at him. He’s done in. Call him next month.”
“So, will the guy in the uniform tell? About all the dancing?”
“Hell no, he’s no Nazi. He just likes to dress up. Besides, he was dancing himself. Didn’t you see him? And somebody photographed everything except the dirty dishes. He danced with the bride my dear. They used to go together.” “Uh oh…”
“No, it’s okay. Herbert’s big ears just looked too irresistible. Everybody gets along just fine.”
“And it was Herbert who insisted we all dance at his wedding, verboten or not. He picked the music and Ulla had to borrow some of the records, but…”
The S-Bahn stops. There is a massive push in the direction of the doors, and a crowd spills out onto the platform, then half the people squeeze back in, but now, closer to the suburbs, air is getting in and there’s room to turn and face others. The tall woman at the rear door finally speaks.
“I wonder if they are actually married,” she muses, “what with the phone getting cut off in the middle of the ceremony…”
“Oh Lord, wasn’t that so awful? Here Ulla is getting hitched in a ‘Ferntrauung’, on the blooming phone, and Herbert is about to say, ‘I do’, with the Field Chaplain looking on, and the damned line gets cut off!”
“Maybe they have a pretty communications staffer out there who…”
“Shut up, will you? That’s just gross. Honestly.”
“Just kidding. I mean it was a big surprise, you must admit…”
“Yes, and I’m really happy they had shot the whole roll of film and didn’t get Ulla’s face at that moment. Really, really glad.”
“Someone took pictures out at the front too, did you hear?”
“Hey ladies and gentlemen, it’s Hermsdorf’s blacked out silhouette I spy out there. Out we go and straight home for you children. Tomorrow’s Monday, back to work and stark reality!”
And so they stumble out into the night, the doors closing behind them.
Anna finds a seat. She has already decided never to get married, but if she did, she wouldn’t want it to be like this.
No one speaks as the S-Bahn pulls out of the station.