‘You too, Vati. I love you,’ I said. I didn’t want to let him go.
Any tranquillity I felt at Kloster Scheyern was all but destroyed when we learnt that the Russians had reached the Oder River. It was Germany’s last defence: once it had been crossed, nothing stood in their way to Berlin. We were under no illusions now.
Germany would fall.
I found Erich sitting at his desk one morning in late January, distracted and drawn.
‘What is it Erich? Are you feeling unwell?’
Erich shook his head and handed me a postcard. ‘I just received this. Inga has taken the children and they’ve left Sagan.’
I took the postcard and quickly read the scribbled message. ‘At least they’ve got away. I can’t believe how quickly the Russians have moved west. They were in Warsaw only a week or so ago.’
‘Yes, I know. From all reports, the Red Army has spread out across Silesia, heading westward.’ He gestured to the postcard in my hand. ‘By the look of the handwriting, they left very quickly, perhaps when they heard word of the Russians reaching Poznan. I just hope they remained ahead of the Russians while on the road.’
‘How were they going to travel with Eva not being well? The trains are out everywhere, especially into Berlin.’
‘One of my old colleagues promised to give them a lift to Berlin but I haven’t heard from him, so I don’t know what’s happened.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘I think the whole town would have evacuated. It must have been crazy. At least Inga had some help from friends and my colleagues. My hope is that they were driven at least some of the way.’
‘Surely they got out early enough to find transport to Berlin…’ I checked the writing on the back of the postcard again. ‘What’s in Elend? Why would your wife go there?’
‘I don’t know but it will most likely be a safe place for her and the children if, God forbid, Berlin falls to the Russians,’ said Erich, rubbing his temple. ‘When we last discussed this plan, Berlin seemed like a perfectly safe option. I would have thought they’d come to München but with the trains so unpredictable, she probably thinks it’s too far and not safe to travel here from Berlin now.’
‘Let’s hope the Americans reach Berlin first if it comes to that.’
‘There’s not much I can do now until Inga contacts me.’
‘Isn’t there any way you can find out where they are?’
Erich shook his head. ‘No, I just have to wait.’
‘What about your parents?’
‘I don’t know. The last I heard, my father was stationed around Oppeln but the town was evacuated last week and captured a few days ago. I don’t know if he got back to my mother and as far as I know, she hasn’t left Grottkau. I’m worried about her too.’ He paused, his green eyes dull. ‘The Russians have reached Breslau and Grottkau is only about fifty kilometres from there. I can’t imagine any of these towns destroyed by war and occupied by the Red Army.’ He stared at me despairingly. I knew he had desperately tried to convince his mother to come west and had arranged his family’s evacuation weeks ago.
I rested my hand on his shoulder. ‘You’re not alone. If there’s anything I can do…’
‘Thank you.’ Erich smiled weakly, patting my hand, his fingers cold. ‘Now, Colonel Von Wissenbach is expecting this report and it won’t write itself.’
‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ I said, picking up the ashtray and leaving the room.
I couldn’t imagine how Erich was feeling, how he managed to focus on his work. My stomach churned every time I thought about those children fleeing their home, too young to really understand what was happening but old enough to remember the trauma of being ripped away from everything they knew. I remembered that feeling well. I prayed they would find comfort before too long when they reached their relative in Berlin and felt the security of their father’s loving arms around them.
Every morning after the post arrived, I entered Erich’s office on the pretext of bringing in or picking up files or reports, fresh coffee or emptying the forever full ashtray. ‘Anything?’ I would ask.
Each day, Erich would shake his head, his brow furrowed. ‘Nothing yet.’
I could see the tension in the set of his shoulders and the mound of cigarette butts in his ashtray but there was nothing more I could do for him. ‘You’ll hear something soon,’ I told him. There was still nothing from Heinrich either.
One icy February morning I took an official telephone call from the police in Berlin. The call was for Erich. I transferred it through to him, then stared blankly at the report I was typing, trying not to breathe so I could hear through the closed door of Erich’s office. But of course with the noise of the other office girls around me, I heard nothing.
‘Fräulein von Klein.’ The gently spoken words held a hint of urgency. My head snapped up to find Erich standing at the door. Once he had my attention, he turned back to the office before I could catch his expression. I jumped out of my seat, the skin on the back of my neck prickling with unease and I hurriedly followed him in, closing the door behind me. He was standing at his desk, swaying.
‘What is it?’
He stared at me, eyes glazed, his face white as a sheet.
‘Here, sit before you fall down.’ I guided Erich into his chair. ‘Was that telephone call about your family?’
Erich nodded.
‘Drink this,’ I said, placing his coffee cup in his hand. He dutifully did as I asked and I noticed his hand shake violently.
‘I have to go to Berlin,’ he said woodenly.
‘Is everything okay?’ I took the cup from him.
He looked up at me then, his eyes blank. ‘Inga and the children made it to Berlin but have been killed in an air-raid.’
‘No!’ I dropped to my knees next to him, appalled that his wife and children had survived the perilous journey from Silesia only to perish in one of the continuous stream of air-raids on the capital. ‘What happened?’
‘An envelope addressed to my wife… it had my details on the back.’ He looked at me, desperation in his eyes.
‘Go on.’
‘It was found next to the bodies of those who died in the public bunker at Anhalter Bahnhof yesterday…’
‘Are they sure? Were they travelling by train to the suburbs, to your wife’s relative?’
‘I don’t know. I have to go to Berlin to identify the bodies… there’s a salvage operation.’ He could barely get the words out. ‘I have to find out what happened.’
‘I’m so sorry, Erich. I’ll organise your leave with Colonel von Wissenbach and let him know what’s happened.’
‘I have to go,’ he said leadenly.
I stood. I wished I could accompany him, to give him the support he needed but it wouldn’t have been right and with him gone, I would be needed here. ‘Go. I have everything under control. I’ll find out if anyone is travelling up to Berlin.’
‘No, I’ll be all right.’ I could see the effort he made to remove the emotion from his face. His eyes became steely and he took a deep breath. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
On impulse, I leant in and kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘Good luck. I’ll be thinking of you.’
Bettina was my solace. We both cried at the end of that day, releasing the grief that we could not show in front of others. The pent-up fear I had for Heinrich, held for months, gushed out uncontrollably like a raging river. I finally faced the possibility that Heinrich too was dead. Neither of us was religious but I felt compelled to pray and Bettina stayed with me as I slipped away each night to one of the small chapels in the kloster complex.
At first, I prayed desperately for Heinrich’s life, like a mantra. I sat quietly on one of the hard wooden pews, soothed by the gentle lamp light, the flickering candles that glowed by the altar and Bettina’s warmth next to me, and sought the words I needed to speak to God. Beyond my hope for Heinrich and a fervent wish to spare Erich his pain, I didn’t know what to pray for. Nobody should have to bury their children and lose their whole family in one fell swoop…