“I’ll keep my ears open, Nathan. Those Polizei are rather talkative,” she promised.
Days went by. Raids continued. More arrests followed. Something was amiss, and it haunted her.
Less than a fortnight later, she stood before Hammerer again.
“I think I have something to tell you.”
She stiffened inside. “You have my undivided attention, Herr Hammerer.”
“We keep a sharp eye on the people before offering them what I want to offer you.”
She knew where he was heading, however, recalling Herr Wagner’s remarks, willed herself to widen her eyes in feigned interest.
“I suppose you understand that we have to be careful about the people we recruit. You know, all these Soviet agents, partisans, Underground workers.” He pulled a cigarette, offering, “Would you?”
She nodded. So, he knows that I smoke though he obviously had never seen me doing it.
He clicked his silver lighter with the swastika engraved on it and leaned close to her, and a moment later, she inhaled the mildly sweet smell of Echstein N.5.
“My wish is that you work for me.”
“A wish or an order, Herr Hammerer?” she dared.
“Still a wish. We need only willing and enthusiastic employees.”
“Do you deem me a good fit?” she asked, twisting her mouth as though contemplating, her mind making a quick calculation: working for Hammerer would bring her close to the archives and records with the names of the Soviet Party functionaries, NKVD agents, Army political workers, and officers who were arrested and who among them had accepted a proposal to change sides, as well as the compromised local Komsomol activists, Soviet agents left on the occupied territory placed under SD surveillance. She might get information about their agent network among the locals. Knowing names was all she needed to help the Underground. She returned her gaze to Hammerer.
“Yes, I do consider you a good fit, otherwise, I wouldn’t make this offer. Our work requires a special kind of person. I’ve watched you for some time. You’ve proved your skills as not only a perfect translator but as a person of calm attitude and devotion to the Third Reich. It supports the information from your Komsomol member file, except for the devotion part.” A half-smile touched his otherwise hard mouth.
Her Komsomol file? Does he have my NKVD file as well? She could hardly suppress astonishment and fear, and ultimately was not successful enough for him not to recognize her surprise.
“Yes. We have our people everywhere.” He placed his elbows on the desk and joined his fingertips. “Perhaps a couple of considerations could help you make a decision, but I think you have enough reasons to hate your former country and be more than enthusiastic to help the cause to avenge for your father and—” A phone’s shrill interrupted his tirade.
“Jawohl, Herr Hauptsturmführer Filberg. In five minutes,” he said into the receiver then jerked to his feet. Shielding the combination lock, as he had done before, he took a thin file from his safe. It instantly disappeared into his briefcase. From the upper drawer of his table, he pulled out a piece of paper. “Read it. I hope to find you here when I get back.” He motioned to his adjutant, a flaxen-haired youth with a Wound Badge, to let Ulya stay in the anteroom and hastened out of the door.
Forgetting for an instant about Hammerer’s paper, Ulya pondered: moving to another place meant losing her secret place in the Civil Council. Besides, she’d be exposed to all the surveillance during her working hours. But did she have a choice?
Ulya got comfortable at the little table with a typewriter on it, and started reading,
The Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet No.21-160 from 28 August 1941 “About the resettling of the Germans residing in the Volga Region.” Reading on, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
According to reliable information received by the military authorities, there are among the German population living in the Volga area thousands and tens of thousands of diversionists and spies, who on a signal being given from Germany are to carry out sabotage in the area inhabited by the Germans of the Volga.” She slid her eyes through the document, “. . . for the prevention of serious bloodshed . . . to resettle the entire German population . . . to the districts of Novosibirsk, the Omsk Region, the Altai Region, Kazakhstan . . . to urgently execute the removal of all Germans from the Volga Region.
Again, and again, reading into every word, Ulya refused to believe such vileness befell her people. She startled at Hammerer’s cool voice that broke into her stunned contemplation, “And I can add that your people were given four hours to prepare for the evacuation. Any who resisted were shot summarily.”
She locked her eyes with his. “I thank you for your trust in my ability to work for the Third Reich and the people of my country.”
“Good.”
Now in his room, he gestured for her to take a seat and slid a two-page document across the table.
After reading it, she signed both originals, in Russian and in German and, for a second, imagined how pleased Nathan would be.
Hammerer examined her signature and the next moment, the document disappeared inside his safe. “No need to remind you that from this moment you are an employee of the Third Reich. I expect you to greet your German colleagues with Heil Hitler and answer their salutations likewise. I will formalize your new position with your Civil Council superiors. Report for duty tomorrow at eight o’clock.”
“What are my responsibilities, Hauptsturmführer Hammerer?”
“You’ll carry out general secretarial duties for me, including translating. Heil Hitler.”
With almost inappropriate speed, she jerked to her feet and raised her arm in the salute. A smile in Hammerer’s eyes betrayed his amusement.
It was too late to return to the Council to leave the news through the cigarette dispatch. She set off for the news kiosk on Liberty Square which, to her relief, was still open.
