And just Erika’s misfortune, Charlotte who excelled in gymnastics, managed to get photographed for a BDM magazine (for which Erika got praised as her leader); and Wilhelmina had somehow caught the eye of some official from the Ministry of Propaganda and was given the undeserved honor of carrying the unit’s Standard along Unter Den Linden in front of Der Führer himself... It didn’t come as a surprise to Erika, a new local leader of the Nazi Women’s League, that the two had shed their BDM uniforms as soon as they turned eighteen and haughtily averted their arrogant noses each time Erika appealed, in vain, to their conscience as German women, to join the NS-Frauenschaft.
Even now Wilhelmina stared at her with such mocking scorn in her wolfish, yellow eyes, as though laughing in her face without saying a word; you lost your power over us, evil witch. Erika looked almost enviously at her, such a delicate creature with nerves of steel underneath.
“Wilhelm is leaving for the front. He came to say goodbye. And you’re excused for the rest of the day◦– Herr Doctor’s direct orders.”
Placated with the explanation, even though the words had been spoken to Charlotte and not for her, Erika’s, benefit, Erika relaxed her tense stance a bit. Her Party loyalty triumphed, despite her personal dislike of the entire von Sielaff breed. When a soldier goes to war, a woman’s duty is to see him off.
Smoothing her unruly curls with her hands, Charlotte excused herself from the ward and ran along the hospital’s hallway. Erika still regarded her taking her leave with a certain measure of disdain; it wasn’t as if Charlotte was his wife or fiancée; an accidental mistress at best, but if the Party line declared even such unions to be all right, who was she to argue? Let him have his fun with her for the last time; perhaps, he’d father a child with the wench◦– a future soldier for the Reich.
In the main hall of the hospital, near the staircase, Charlotte paused in her tracks, out of breath, tense with sudden emotion. Willi, and it was indeed him, couldn’t have been there for longer than a few minutes; yet, he already stood surrounded by a swarm of bright-eyed nurses after one of them had recognized the famous ace, Wilhelm von Sielaff, in him. The uniform suited him far better than hospital attire, if only it weren’t for the sad occasion for which he wore it. Cleared and announced fit for duty just two days ago, Willi, her Willi, was going back to the front first thing tomorrow morning. Lotte shoved her hands deep into her pockets as though in search of the needed strength not to break into tears in front of that cheerful assembly. He’s leaving for the front and they have the gall to laugh and joke with him. Oh, how she loathed them all at that moment!
She understood them though. He stood among them, wonderfully handsome despite his intentionally bohemian flair, so admirably nonchalant in his stance and manner, with his much-too-long hair that always fell onto one eye, with sunglasses carelessly tucked into a breast pocket of his jacket. What a terrible flirt, damn him! So used to being adored... And Mina had warned her about her brother, the known ladies’ man; she told her to just ask whatever she wanted about the damned planes (why are you even so fascinated with them?) and leave him to his devices as he was a no-good, spoiled brat and if he wasn’t her brother, she wouldn’t come near him and so on and so forth… Lotte didn’t listen. Lotte fell in love with him before she even met him in person.
But then he noticed her through all that dense crowd around him and broke into that special smile that Lotte only saw on his face when he looked at her◦– a bit timid and endlessly tender◦– and Charlotte’s thoughts melted at once as if touched by the sun itself. He quickly finished signing whatever magazines and napkins were put before him, excused himself and went up to her to plant a kiss on her cheek◦– to hell with spectators!◦– before proclaiming loudly and without any reservations, “my beautiful, beautiful Lotte! I missed you so much!”
“Have you come to say goodbye?”
“No. I have come to kidnap you.” He handed her her coat and was already leading Charlotte by the hand while she was trying to protest half-heartedly.
“Don’t worry about your supervisor,” Willi reassured her at once. “It’s all settled!”
The day was alive with a transparent crispness in the air. Unmarred by clouds, the sky domed above them resolutely blue and windless, like a painting by Monet. After a short trek across the street, Charlotte paused and hesitated at the sight of a Mercedes with two red flags above its headlights. Willi was already holding the door open for her.
“Whose car is that?”
“My father’s. Don’t worry, he has no use for it now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite. From what I last heard, his latest means of transportation is a horse as everything else gets either frozen or bogged down on the Eastern Front.”
“Willi, you shouldn’t be joking about that. He’s risking his life there…”
Willi only waved her off impatiently. “He’s not risking anything. Sitting it out in some communist big-shot’s villa, far behind enemy lines is more like it. Besides, only the good die young. That son of a bitch will outlive me◦– you’ll see.”
Charlotte gazed at him with reproach. “Don’t say such things.” Joking about death when the mere thought of you going back to that hell tears my heart in shreds.
Willi, recognizing the silent despair, so carefully concealed in those steely-gray eyes, instantly felt guilty and tried to laugh, half-ashamed, half-embarrassed. He was suddenly aware that she was afraid for him, genuinely and gravely afraid and this thought flattered and terrified him all at once. It wasn’t simple infatuation from her side; nor was it the desire to possess him. No, it was something much more meaningful and abysmal, for which he used to tease Mina unmercifully when he’d just recognized that miserable expression on her flushed face each time she’d steal a glance in Johann’s direction◦– just a friend, back then; her brother’s roommate.
None of his victories saw him off to the front as Mina saw off Johann. They wrapped their arms around him, sweet and strangling, and grinned gloatingly at the crowd outside as though he were a fashionable accessory. Only in Lotte’s eyes, there was now the same tragedy, invariably etched into the features of every woman who is mortally afraid that these could quite possibly be the last hours that she saw her man alive. He turned away, trembling with his entire body, almost wishing that she wouldn’t look at him this way.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, feigning curiosity. It didn’t matter one bit to her, where. Just to sit next to him for a few more moments.
“It’s a surprise.”
He started talking about something utterly irrelevant which neither of them would recall the next day. Charlotte was watching Willi babble away as they sped along the streets, imprinting his features in her memory while she could. She had the photos that he gave her, of course, along with all of those papers and magazines that she was collecting even before meeting him in person. But how could even the best quality portrait replace the sound of his voice, the mischievous squint of his eyes, that gesture with which he’d swipe the bangs off of his face? Charlotte dug her nails into her arm not to break into tears and ruin their last day together.