Two Brothers

bloody-minded and he says nothing can persuade him to wear that uniform. He says he’s been taking life too easy and it’s time he let them all know he’s still a Jew. I can’t understand it. Everything was going so well and now he’s just so angry again. I think something must have happened and he’s not saying what.’

Paulus spoke up.

‘I know what’s made him so angry, Silks,’ and then added quietly, ‘and I know a way to make him see sense too.’

‘Tell us then, Pauly!’ Silke said eagerly.

‘You’re not going to like it,’ Paulus went on. ‘And for that matter nor am I.’

‘If it stops Ottsy getting himself sent to a camp then I’ll like it,’ Silke said firmly.

‘Why has Otto suddenly got so furious again, Pauly?’ Frieda asked. ‘Tell us what you know.’

‘All right then. Ottsy tried to see Dagmar the other night.’

‘Did you see him?’ Frieda gasped. ‘Did you talk to him?’

‘No, Mrs Fischer would hardly let him in the house. Anyway Dagmar made me stay in her room. She thought it would be even harder to make him go if he saw me.’

‘Dagmar spoke to him?’

‘Not for long. She sent him away. She told him that he wasn’t one of us any more. That she didn’t want to see him because he had a life and she didn’t.’

‘What a bitch!’ Silke exclaimed.

‘Silke!’ Frieda scolded. ‘I hate that word.’

‘Well, sorry. But I mean really it’s not Ottsy’s fault, is it?’

‘Look,’ Paulus said. ‘Perhaps I’m not putting what she said very well. It made sense at the time and it was mainly Frau Fischer who spoke to him anyway. And of course by turning up he was putting them in a lot of danger. He really should have thought of that. Perhaps he did but he just couldn’t stop himself… We all know how he feels about Dagmar.’

Silke looked away. Frieda reached over and squeezed her hand.

‘So it’s pretty obvious why he’s started acting up again,’ Paulus went on. ‘Dagmar refusing to see him will have made him crazy. He wants to prove he’s still a Jew. I know him. I know how he feels and he’d rather die and have her respect than live without it.’

Frieda’s face contorted with alarm.

‘You said you had an idea, Pauly. What is it?’ she asked.

‘Well,’ Paulus said grimly, ‘like I said, Dagmar’s getting very depressed.’

‘What’s she got to do with it?’ Silke exclaimed. ‘We’re talking about Ottsy.’

‘I know that, Silks,’ Paulus said patiently. ‘But you know as well as I do that Dagmar is the key to him. Anyway she’s kind of withdrawing within herself. Sort of giving up, a bit like…’

Paulus stopped himself but he couldn’t help casting a glance in the direction of Wolfgang.

‘Like me?’ Wolfgang said with a bitter smile. ‘Not quite as bad as that I hope. But if she is, you must make sure she avoids wood-based alcohol. It can blind you if you haven’t built up a tolerance.’

‘Please, Wolf,’ Frieda said, trying to mask the distaste in her voice. ‘We’re talking about Otto. Go on, Pauly.’

‘Frau Fischer’s really worried about her,’ Paulus said. ‘Dagmar used to love to go out. She loves to do things. She’s not like me. I can read a book, but she’s a physical person and she’s sort of fading away. She needs to be able to go swimming, she needs to go to cafes. Believe it or not, she needs tickets to the Olympics.’

Silke could hardly contain her frustration.

‘Well, she can’t go to the bloody Olympics, can she?’ she snapped. ‘What has all this got to do with—’

‘But you see she can,’ Paulus went on. ‘All she needs is a good cover. All she needs… is a Nazi boyfriend.’

‘You mean… Ottsy?’ Frieda gasped.

Silke looked dumbstruck.

‘Exactly,’ Paulus said. ‘If she was going about on the arm of a uniformed Jungmann from the elite Napola school, she could get in anywhere she wanted with no questions asked. He could even take her swimming, I’m sure of it.’

‘Yes,’ Silke conceded quietly, knowing instantly that her days as Otto’s best and only friend were over. ‘I suppose that’s right.’

‘And that’s the way we’ll keep Otto from causing trouble for himself. You have to go to him, Silks, and tell him that the better a Nazi he looks the more he’ll be able to help Dagmar. That’ll bring him round for sure.’

‘Goodness, Pauly!’ Frieda said. ‘What a clever plan.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Silke said glumly.

She and Paulus looked at each other. Both understanding the sacrifices they were each going to have to make.

Silke did her duty on the following Sunday, explaining to Otto Paulus’s audacious plan.

‘Dagmar needs you, Otts,’ she told him. ‘Pauly and Frau Fischer are really worried about her. She’s going crazy all cooped up and losing hope. She has to get out. She has to have some fun. You’re the only person who can do that for her so you really really have to start behaving yourself again and get them to trust you. Then they’ll let you go out of school, like the other boys, and you can start getting Dagmar out of herself.’

Otto certainly did not need telling twice. In an instant his entire demeanour altered.

‘Don’t you worry, Silks,’ he said with a broad smile, ‘you can rely on me!’

‘That’s great,’ Silke replied, her smile considerably less animated than Otto’s.

That same Sunday Paulus put the plan to Dagmar.

‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,’ he said. ‘Ottsy gives you the perfect cover. You can be a German girl again and go where you please as long as you’re with him!’

At first the idea of going out amongst Nazis turned Dagmar white with terror. But very soon the excitement of the adventure overcame her fears and her spirits began visibly to rise.

‘Well, Otto would make rather a handsome beau,’ she conceded.

‘Try not to rub it in, Dags,’ Paulus said ruefully.

‘Silly!’ Dagmar replied with a happy tone that Paulus hadn’t heard her use in years. ‘You know I love you both.’

It was decided that Silke would take Dagmar with her to the very next Sunday tea at the Napola. Otto easily got permission to have an extra guest as girls were always in very short supply at the boarding school social functions. Of course Dagmar had no BDM uniform but the fact that she would be arriving as Silke’s friend would almost certainly be enough to ensure that no questions were asked.

The two girls travelled together across Berlin.

Having scarcely seen each other properly for a number of years they had very little to say to each other and conversation was very stilted. They tried to chat and joke a little about the old Saturday Club days, but apart from that shared history they had nothing else in common. They never had even before the Nazis, but now of course the gap between them was infinitely wider.

Spandau was at the very end of the line, after which they still had about a kilometre or so to complete the journey. Dagmar, who was wearing high heels, insisted on taking a taxi.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll pay,’ she said in answer to Silke’s doubtful look. ‘Mummy and I still have money, although they took a lot of it after… well… let’s say they fined my father for the inconvenience of murdering him.’

As they sat together in the taxi, Silke took Dagmar’s hand. Something she had not done since the days of children’s games.

‘I don’t know if I ever said,’ she whispered, ‘but what has happened to you is so terrible, Dagmar, and I’m so sorry. You know, about your dad and… well, about everything.’

Dagmar smiled.

‘Thank you, Silke,’ she said. ‘You didn’t say but I always knew you felt it. I may be mean sometimes but I’m not completely insensitive. Speaking of which, today for instance. I know how difficult this must be for—’