A warm glow rose within me as I realised how much the oberinspektor trusted me if he was willing to make such a dangerous admission.
He leant forward again, fiddling with a clip on the desk. ‘Not all Russians are bad, you know. I met many good Russian men, soldiers, fighting for their country just like me, except many were in our captivity. The Russian culture is very interesting and I developed a love for the Cossack music that some of the men would sing. It was deeply stirring and hauntingly beautiful.’
I was shocked that he would tell me such things. Cossack music was banned. And yet I saw a very different side to him, a softer side, and a man who would not be told what to think or how to live.
He sighed, not noticing my fear for him. ‘I found it difficult to reconcile myself to the mass slaughtering of men on both sides. I can’t say I was disappointed to be transferred to München last year.’
‘Oh, I thought you’d been here much longer. Everyone seems to know you.’ I was glad to move the conversation away from dangerous territory, talking about something other than my brothers and the wretched Eastern Front.
‘Ours isn’t a large section compared to some and we have a good team that works well together.’ He smiled. For the first time, I noticed the crinkles around his eyes and the creases around his generous mouth, which only heightened his attractiveness. I blushed at the compliment and dropped my eyes back to the documents on the desk.
In my first weeks at work, Bettina had warned me that the oberinspektor was a ‘ladies’ man’, who was known to flirt with the office girls, but he had only ever been professional and respectful with me. Not that that had stopped my infatuation. Until this moment, I had known nothing more about him personally, except what was suggested by the photo of his children on his desk and the absence of a photo of his wife. It didn’t worry me that he kept his personal life to himself; that was as it should be. All I cared about was that he was a good superior, that I made his work more efficient, and that he was well respected by everyone, especially his peers and superiors, which of course reflected well on me.
But I was growing curious, fuelled by my inability to stop myself from thinking about him. What kind of relationship did he have with his wife and family? Where did he come from, when did he last see them and how had his war experience shaped his life? I had seen pain in his eyes when he spoke of his previous war posting and I found it hard to reconcile the considerate, thoughtful and professional man with the stories Bettina had told me. There was more to the oberinspektor and his situation than met the eye.
The war certainly made all manner of things more complicated. I almost looked forward to 1944 in the hope that it would bring an end to the war. Heinrich and I could be safely married and begin our life together. I dreamt of life going back to normal but a little voice in my head wondered how life could ever be normal again without the ones we loved and with the trauma this war had left with the living.
4
The social engagements of the Christmas and New Year season enforced some kind of normality for our family. Vati reminded me these were important connections that needed to be fostered, which were valuable not just during the war but in its aftermath. Mutti agreed and seemed to come back to life, forcing herself to dress up and smile prettily.
Christmas and Silvester were subdued affairs with immediate family. We still had the traditional Christmas tree, a live fir with silver tinsel, glass baubles and white candles blazing on its branches. It was a sight that never failed to bring a smile to my face and a renewed sense of optimism for the year ahead. There was still champagne in Mutti’s good crystal goblets and a few traditional delicacies too. Nobody wanted to play fortune-telling games on Silvester but we drank to Willi’s and Ludwig’s memories. We were all aware that these times were precious and nobody knew what was ahead.
Often the München parties revolved around military schedules, since many of my parents’ friends were members of the general staff or high-ranking Heer and Luftwaffe officers. It was inevitable that the older men would congregate, often in a separate room with their cigars and cognac, and talk about the state of Germany, the ongoing war, the various new policies and how they would affect the coming year. The older ladies would sit around with their champagne discussing their families, their latest projects and the most recent scandals. The young ones like myself and Heinrich mingled, some drinking heavily, some abstaining from alcohol altogether, many sneaking off to a quiet corner or the darkness of the gardens for late-night trysts, to satisfy a sudden urge, to remind us what living was about. Our generation had been traumatised by the atrocities of war before we had blossomed into adulthood. Everyone had been touched by loss through the fracturing and dislocation of families and the cruel reality of modern warfare.
It was a little uncomfortable to meet Colonel von Wissenbach at these social functions. I always felt a bit stiff, as if I should be on my best behaviour while mingling with my superiors from work, but he never failed to be courteous and engaging.
‘How are you enjoying your job, Charlotte?’ he asked one evening.
‘Fine, thank you.’
The colonel nodded. ‘Working well with Oberinspektor Drescher? He’s been good to you, I hope.’
‘Of course, colonel. He’s patient and kind and I’ve learnt a lot from him.’
‘I’ve heard good things about your work, you’re efficient and conscientious. We could do with more like you.’
I blushed to think the oberinspektor had talked about me with the colonel, and looked at my toes. ‘Thank you.’
‘There you are, Georg. How is my daughter doing at work?’
I looked up and smiled at my father, noticing a striking man standing next to him.
‘She’s a credit to you and your wife,’ said the colonel. ‘It’s hard workers like Charlotte who keep men like us moving forward with the war effort.’
I almost fainted with the praise and suddenly felt that maybe this was the work I was meant to do to best help our country – perhaps photography had only been the silly dream of a young girl.
‘We are very proud of her,’ agreed my father. ‘Georg, you’ve met Claus von Stauffenberg before?’ He gestured to the man by his side.
‘Of course.’ Colonel von Wissenbach nodded genially to the man.
‘Claus, this is my daughter, Charlotte.’
The man smiled, an eye patch giving him a rakish charm but his gaze intense nevertheless, and I felt like he was focusing all his attention on me. He was most charismatic. He reached for my hand, his own missing a couple of fingers, and I felt a surge of pride in this soldier who had obviously sacrificed so much for our homeland. Then his soft lips brushed the skin on the back of my hand, making me shiver deliciously.
‘Lotte, this is Lieutenant Colonel von Stauffenberg, the son of old family friends. I hadn’t seen him for years until he began working with the Replacement Army a few months ago.’
‘A pleasure to meet you.’
‘The pleasure is all mine,’ he said, bowing slightly.
‘How are things with the Replacement Army?’ asked Colonel von Wissenbach. ‘Have the budget cuts affected you as they have the Luftwaffe?’
I drifted away to find Heinrich, feeling vaguely disconcerted.
Over the next few days, I found myself remembering that encounter, trying to analyse what had made me feel so strange. Was it the pride I felt in looking at the Lieutenant Colonel’s war injuries that my father told me he’d suffered in North Africa? Was it the protectiveness I felt for him, a beautiful specimen of a man but maimed by war, especially after my two brothers, both handsome and full of life, had perished? These thoughts rolled around my head until they exhausted themselves and I finally had to face the truth: I had been physically drawn to him. That wasn’t so much the problem – a man like that, a decorated hero, would make many a woman swoon over him – it was how it reminded me of my first meeting with the oberinspektor, how I was irresistibly drawn to him, how my initial attraction to him had not yet waned after working with him for nearly six months.