You like my little friends? she says. Look there, that cardinal, the big fat fellow. He is my favorite. He is greedy to a fault, pushing aside the others to get the seed. But every morning he visits, without fail. Often he comes to the windowsill and sits there, like so. I sometimes think he knows what I am thinking.
She leans over and taps the pane. The birds scatter, with a flurry of wings, into the air.
Oop-la! says Rose-Grete, laughing. Then she turns to Trudy.
You must think me foolish, she says. But they are good company, my little friends, if fickle. It is not easy to grow old alone.
She draws a napkin toward her and smoothes it with the flat of her palm. Trudy waits.
I do have children, Rose-Grete says to the napkin. Two sons. But they live far away, and they cannot be bothered to come and see their old mother anymore.
That's a shame, says Trudy, thinking guiltily of Anna, whom she has not visited since the Christmas ordeal at the Good Samaritan center two weeks ago.
Yes, it is, isn't it?…Rose-Grete sighs and begins folding the napkin into squares. My firstborn son telephones every so often: Mother, how are you feeling? Have you been to the doctor? What does the doctor say? But I know he does this only out of duty. And the other, Friedrich-Freddy-lives now in England, and I do not hear much from him at all.
I'm sorry.
Rose-Grete looks shyly at Trudy and smiles.
I always wished I had a girl, she says softly. It is different with mothers and daughters, yes? There is a closeness that is not possible with sons. You and your mother, you are close, I am sure.
Trudy busies herself with the remains of her cake, using the tines of her fork to push the crumbs into a pile.
Um, she says.
She can feel Rose-Grete's eye fixed upon her. After a moment the older woman touches Trudy's hand. It is like being brushed with a small bundle of sticks.
I have embarrassed you, Rose-Grete says. But there is no need to answer. I can tell you are a good daughter. You will take more cake?
Trudy shakes her head.
I couldn't eat another thing, she says-truthfully, as her throat is suddenly tight.
Rose-Grete nudges the pan of Kaffeekuchen toward Trudy.
Please, she says. It will only go to waste otherwise.
Please, she repeats.
Trudy obediently cuts a second slice of cake.
THE GERMAN PROJECT Interview 7
SUBJECT: Mrs. Rose-Grete Fischer (née Rosalinde Margarethe Guertner)
DATE/LOCATION: January 11, 1997; Edina, MN
Q: Rose-Grete, I'm going to start by asking you a few simple questions, all right?
A: Yes, fine.
Q: Where and when were you born?
A: I was born in 1928, in a town called Lübben. Although to call it a town is to give it high praise, since really it was a village, a tiny speck of a place near the Polish border. Located in the Spreewald, with perhaps only five hundred population, very poor. Farmers and lumbermen mostly, though my parents owned a small shop, what Americans would call a general store… You have said your own father was a farmer?
Q: Yes, that's right… Rose-Grete, were you and your family living in Lübben when the war began?
A: Yes, we were there for the duration. I stayed in Lübben until I came to this country.
Q: Can you tell me what you remember about the start of the war?
A: Well, it was not for us how it was for the rest of Europe. Or at least in the big cities. For us there was no immediate-how do you say it, impact? it trickled through to us in bits and pieces. Some of the young men were called up to serve, of course. And the Jews of the village… But most of what was happening, because we were such a small place, we found out from newspapers brought in from other towns, sometimes a week or two old. And rumors.
Q: Rose-Grete, you mentioned the Jews of your village. What happened to them?
A: In the beginning-Well, I was only eleven when the war began, you know; I didn't understand much of anything. Most of what I know was learned from listening at doors.
Q: Do you remember anything you heard, specifically?
A: Only that my parents were always fighting during this time. Quietly, and when they thought we children were asleep, but still we knew what they were quarreling about. They had heard the rumors too, about the Nazis and especially the Einsatzgruppen, the special units whose job it was to come and take away all the Jews. Nobody knew what would happen to them after, and nobody asked questions. Everyone was scared, you see. But we knew it could not be anything good. So some of the people in the town hid the Jews or helped them escape to the forest, where there were Partisan bands.
My father wanted to help in this fashion. He was a religious man and he thought it was a sin, what the Nazis were doing. But my mother begged him not to get involved. No, Peder, please, the children, you must think of them-that is what I remember her saying.
Q: So he didn't hide any Jews or help them escape.
A: If he could have seen what would happen when the Einsatzgruppen came, I am sure he would have-But no. In the end he did not.
Q: When did the Einsatzgruppen come to Lübben?
A: In…1944, I believe. I was sixteen years then, so it must have been 1944.
Q: Can you tell me what you remember about that?
A: I-One moment, please. It is not so easy for me to talk about this.
Q: Take your time. All the time you need. A: Thank you. You are very kind. [long pause1]
A: What I remember first is that many people rejoiced when the Einsatzgruppen came. I remember them standing by the main road and cheering and giving the Nazi salute, like so! I think this is because there were plenty of native Poles in Lübben, and the Poles hate Jews as much or more than we Germans did. Not many people know this, but it is true.
In any case, come they did, and a few days later I… Well, my parents sent me on an errand. It was very hot, that I remember; it was then late June, a beautiful summer day. I remember the heat especially well because I had to walk many kilometers to a farm to barter some of our eggs for raspberries. For my mother. She was pregnant, and craving them, and we did not stock any fruit in our grocery. But we did keep hens, and so I went to trade eggs for the berries and some fresh bread. And I…
On the way back I decided to take a shortcut through the forest. Because it was cooler. I didn't know it was forbidden to be there. I didn't know what they were doing. I wanted only to get out of the sun, the road was so hot and so dusty.
So I was walking through the woods with the berries and the bread for my mother, and all of the sudden I heard pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, just like… like firecrackers. But it was not firecrackers, it was gunshots. And I was so young and so stupid, I followed the sound to a clearing, and there I saw them. The Jews and the Einsatzgruppen. The Jews had been made to undress and were standing at the edge of a pit. And the Einsatzgruppen were shooting them in groups of four or five.
Well, I was absolutely horrified. I remember being more shocked at first that they were naked than that they were being… slaughtered in this way. I had never before seen anyone naked except my mother, and I was… I was just so shocked and so confused. I remember thinking, Why don't they run? Better to be shot in the back while running than waiting for it, and perhaps one or two could get away to the Partisans… And the shame of it, the women and the children naked with the men, I had never seen such a thing. How I wanted to hide my face. But I could not. I stood and watched while they prayed, some of them, and held hands and begged and cried and were shot. The women and babies along with the men. Nobody was spared.