Before leaving for the night, he hauled Max Jungblutt’s walnut cabinet onto its feet and checked its contents. It was full of books, works by Nazi followers mostly, including Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf. He found a couple of dogeared novels by Franz Kafka and took them with him to give to Gretchen for her 14-year-old guest.
34
On February 13, Dora called to Gretchen’s apartment with the news that she hadn’t been able to find anywhere for Inge to live. She would have to stay with Gretchen for another while.
Gretchen became anxious at the news. Inge was furious. She stamped her foot. “I hate it here.”
“I’m sorry, Inge,” said Dora. “It won’t be for very much longer.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Gretchen took Dora to Hans’s apartment on the ground floor.
He told them what he’d done. “Inge’s new identity card has been ordered and will be delivered by the end of February.”
“How much did that cost?” said Dora.
“Nothing. I’ve agreed to surrender the rights to my allotment.”
Gretchen was shocked. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s not important.”
“You’re planning to travel with us?” said Dora.
“I have an agreement with a drayman to take you and your guest south to Dresden. The dray couldn’t take my weight.”
Gretchen pressed a hand on his arm. “You must insist that the forger takes money. Your allotment is too important to you.”
He patted her hand. “Leave it, Gretchen. It’s not important. Really.”
“You have a date?” said Dora.
“Sunday March eleventh.”
“That’s weeks away!” said Dora.
“I’m sorry,” said Hans. “It’s the earliest the drayman can leave his depot.”
Dora turned to Gretchen. “I can’t leave the city. I have important work to do. But we can’t let Inge go with a strange man, unaccompanied.”
“What are you suggesting?” said Gretchen.
“I thought you could go.”
“Me?”
“Who else?” said Dora.
“I can’t leave Oskar. He needs someone to mind him, someone to feed him and make sure he eats.”
“Maybe you could ask one of your neighbors to look after him.”
Gretchen shook her head. “I wouldn’t trust any of them.”
“You can leave him with me,” said Hans.
“Are you sure you can’t go, Dora?” Gretchen looked pained.
“I’m certain.”
“That’s settled, then, Gretchen will travel with Inge,” Hans said. “Oskar will live with me.”
What just happened? thought Gretchen. Have I agreed to leave my husband in the care of an old soldier with only one leg?
They set about planning the escape in detail. Pitt would arrive at the apartment on his dray before first light. Gretchen and Inge would have to be ready, carrying as little as possible.
“Inge will have a small suitcase,” said Dora. “Just a change of clothes.”
Hans pulled out a map of the city and they traced the route south. “Once you cross the River Havel it should be plain sailing.”
As they were leaving, Hans handed Gretchen two books. “I salvaged these from the cabin for your young U-Boat,” he said.
The following morning, February 14, returning from the fire hydrant with a bucket of water, Gretchen found the postwoman surrounded by a small crowd. Breathlessly, she announced news about a huge bombing raid in Dresden. The Allied bombers had dropped thousands of tons of incendiaries that caused a firestorm in the city, ten times worse than the one in Berlin. Dresden was in ruins. Tens of thousands had died, many of them killed by noxious gases in underground shelters and basements.
Part V
35
February 14, 1945
Dora returned that morning for a crisis meeting with Gretchen and Hans. Gretchen insisted that they meet in her apartment so that Inge could listen in. Dora agreed, and Hans made the painful journey up the stairs to the second floor.
Dora opened the meeting with a blunt statement: “Dresden is no longer a viable destination. I’m open to suggestions.”
Hans spread his map out on the table.
“Why is Dresden not a viable destination?” said Inge. “That’s where my friends live.”
“The city has been completely destroyed,” said Hans. “Your friends are probably dead.”
“You can’t know that,” said Inge, her moist eyes flashing.
Gretchen said, “Keep your voice down, Inge. The walls are thin.”
“How can you be sure that my friends are dead?” the girl hissed.
“We can’t be sure,” said Dora. “But even if they are alive, they are probably without a roof over their heads.”
“That’s not certain, either. They could be safe and well and untouched by the bombs.”
“We can’t send you to a bombed-out city, and that’s final,” said Dora. “Where else could you go?”
Inge crossed her skinny arms across her chest. “I don’t know. There is nowhere else.”
“We’ll have to call off the whole thing,” said Hans. “I’ll speak to the drayman.”
Gretchen said, “That’s the last thing we should do. We have to get Inge out of Berlin while we can.”
“Agreed,” said Dora, grimly.
“Why?” said Inge. “Why can’t I stay where I am until the war ends?”
“Trust us,” said Gretchen. “You don’t want to be here when the Russians arrive.”
“You’re keeping something from me,” said Inge. “Tell me why I should be afraid of the Russians.”
No one replied.
Gretchen imagined that the young girl had been isolated for so long she hadn’t heard anything about the unspeakable behavior of the Red Army. She was sure it had never been mentioned on the radio, and Dora must have shielded her from the truth. Gretchen baulked at the prospect of telling her any of those stories.
“Wherever we send her, it has to be to the south,” said Hans.
The three adults pored over the map, each making suggestions about potential destinations. Some were too close to the capital, some too far. Others were too small to hide in unnoticed. Inge stood back with a sullen look on her face, taking no part in the discussion. After a lively debate, they settled on Luckenwalde, a small town 60 kilometers to the southwest of Berlin.
Hans traced the journey with his finger. ““We’ll probably get there in a day. Our first target will be Potsdam. It’s a straight run south from there.”
“I never heard of Luckenwalde,” said Inge. “What am I supposed to do when
