After the pageantry of the brief stop at city hall, the athletes were shepherded to Lehrte Railway Station and boarded elegant passenger cars that, like everything else, were draped with swastika-covered flags. Betty dropped to her seat across from Helen as Olive and Annette slid into the red velvet seats next to them.
“Look,” Olive said, pulling her team blazer away from her chest and giving Betty a glimpse of something shiny. “We each took our wineglasses from city hall. A bunch of the men did too. Great souvenirs, don’t you think?”
“If only we had some of the red wine that went in them,” Annette said, giggling.
“I swiped a teacup with the Manhattan’s insignia on it and wrapped it in my underclothes,” Betty said.
“Once we get to Berlin, I’m going for something with that awful swastika on it,” Helen said, pulling out an old newspaper to read.
Outside the window, fields, green and verdant, streaked past, but the sky was gloomy. Thick clouds hung low over the horizon. After about thirty minutes, the train slowed as it traveled through a village station. The station’s platform appeared empty, yet the train lumbered to a stop.
Helen looked up from her newspaper. “I thought we were going directly to Berlin.”
Everyone arched their necks, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside. A line of soldiers clad in brown Nazi uniforms, their black jackboots polished to a high shine, suddenly marched onto the platform to assume positions as if guarding each train car. After several minutes, a group of Nazi officials appeared on the platform, behind the soldiers. They boarded each train car in pairs. Wide-eyed, Betty and her teammates watched as two men appeared at one end of their compartment and appraised the athletes, their faces grim.
One official lifted a gloved hand holding a riding crop and smacked it against his other palm. He spoke in a clipped, heavily accented English. “It has come to our attention that many glasses have gone missing from Hamburg’s city hall. While this may have been seen as a prank, it is property theft. Surrender the items in question immediately and no further action will be taken over this incident.”
When he finished speaking, a soldier stepped forward holding a crate. Under the penetrating gazes of the officials, the Americans shifted in their seats uneasily. Annette’s face drained of color and Olive’s breath caught and her knuckles whitened on her seat’s armrest as the soldier with the crate began to walk down the aisle slowly, his gaze fastened on a spot straight ahead of him. The official who had spoken muttered something in rapid-fire German to the man with the crate before switching back to English, repeating, “Now is the time to return the items. If you do not comply, things will become more serious.”
Even though Betty hadn’t nicked a goblet, fear bloomed inside her. Dry-mouthed, she stared straight ahead. Each thud of the heels of the soldier’s boots along the railcar aisle beat an ominous sound. Several athletes handed goblets to the man as he progressed along the aisle. Olive pulled hers out and handed it to the soldier, and Annette followed suit. When he reached the far end of the train car, the Nazi official marched after him, and they exited without saying anything more.
It was as if a thunderstorm had passed through. The air cleared and lightened. The athletes looked at each other with tight but relieved faces. A low hum of chatter filled the railcar.
As the Nazis reconvened on the platform, gathering the crates of stolen goblets, Helen whistled. “Close call. These people don’t fool around.”
“That was terrifying,” Olive said.
Helen held out a newspaper. “Someone gave this to me before we landed. It’s a few days old, but there’s a story about how Germany has dropped one of its only Jewish athletes from its team. She’s a high jumper and has set records, but suddenly she’s being told she’s not good enough. Sounds pretty fishy, don’t you think?”
Betty took the newspaper and started reading about Gretel Bergmann. What exactly were they getting into?
48.
July 24, 1936
Berlin
THE WEATHER REMAINED UNUSUALLY COLD AND dreary upon the Americans’ arrival in Berlin. The men would be staying at the Olympic Village constructed on the western fringe of Berlin about a half hour by bus to the Olympic Stadium, almost twenty miles from the center of Berlin, but the women’s housing lay inside the Reichssportfeld, adjacent to the Olympic Stadium, in a large building named Friesenhaus. Helen’s first impression of the bedroom she would share with Betty was its unwelcoming temperature. She shivered in the chilly, damp air. “It’s das Freezing Haus, huh?”
Betty dropped her bag on the concrete floor. “At least it’s clean.”
“I’m starving. Can we go find something to eat?”
“Of course, let’s put down our luggage and . . .” At the sound of Betty’s voice trailing off, Helen turned to see what had distracted her. A sheet of white paper appeared to be tucked under the thin pillow at the other end of her bed, and Helen pulled out the typewritten note and began reading:
Adolf Hitler’s Germany has treated many of her best sons in a manner that’s unworthy of a civilized state.
The temperature in the already cold room seemed to plummet by thirty more degrees as Helen continued to read another appeal to boycott the Games.
German authorities will start by being very displeased, but they cannot punish anybody. The worst thing they can do is
