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Friends & Enemies (Promise for Tomorrow Book 1) Page 7
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Chapter Eleven
Hagen, Germany
Wednesday, September 29, 1943
“We may have a hard time fitting ourselves in here should we need to use this as a bomb shelter.” Heidi shoved aside a box of candles. She squeezed in the last jars of beans on the cellar’s north end while Gretchen shelved tomatoes on the south end. Even down here, Papa insisted everything be equally divided in case one end of the cellar should cave in. Heidi shuddered. If the house collapsed, it wouldn’t do their soft bodies any good either.
“I think we’re finished here, Gretchen. I’m off to see Adele. Lieselotte said she needs help altering Adele’s dress.” Heidi brushed off her hands. “I was so excited before my wedding, but I doubt Adele feels the same.”
She walked the short distance. A bird sang to her from the branch of a linden tree. To be so carefree!
What would Erich be doing if he were still alive? Commander of his own U-boat by now, certainly. If he’d survived enough missions, he’d be appointed to teach future submariners at the naval academy near Flensburg. And they’d be together since she would have joined him.
Her pillow must be getting mildew, the way she soaked it in tears every night. Now one of her best friends was marrying a Gestapo agent.
She tugged on the bell pull, and Frau Hartkopf opened the door. “Oh, Heidi, how good to see you. Be a dear and see if you can cheer up our desolate bride, will you?”
“What’s wrong?” Of course, she knew, but best to pretend ignorance. Fitting in had always been important to Adele’s mother. Indifferent to politics, she must relish her opportunity to shine as the mother of the bride. Even a reluctant bride. Heidi would hug Mama as soon as she walked in the door tonight.
“Only everything.” Mrs. Hardkopf nodded toward Adele’s room.
Adele stood in front of a mirror clad in her mother’s wedding dress, her face tear-streaked. She blotted her eyes with a sodden handkerchief. “Look at this, Heidi. This is all wrong.”
The dress looked fine. Heidi removed her pins from her sewing box and began marking the necessary alterations. “What’s wrong with it?”
“This is so… so…” Adele spread out her hands, “old-fashioned.”
Heidi studied the dress. Cream silk blended with lace and chiffon. The stiffened lace collar stood out in a medieval fashion, but that could be easily altered. So could the tight matching cuffs extending halfway up the forearm with hook and eye fastenings. Otherwise, the dress offered a softness and simplicity that suited Adele.
“Your parents were married in 1914, right? So it is twenty-nine years old.”
“Exactly. This is not what I want.” Tears flowed again as Adele slipped out of the dress, sank down on her bed, and cupped her chin in her hands. “Nothing is what I want. My father is so proud to be a member of the National Socialist Party, and he wants to strengthen his ties. So I am to marry Bruno Seidler.” Her posture wilted, and she whispered, “He scares me.”
Heidi sat beside her and threaded a needle. “Remember in grade school, after we attended our teacher’s wedding, we planned our own weddings?” Her own tears threatened. “I wanted to be married in spring when the lilacs were in bloom. Instead, Erich and I married in winter. I wanted to go on a wedding trip to the Mediterranean before settling into our own house. Instead, Erich got only four days leave before having to return to base, and I settled into a tiny apartment.”
A laugh escaped from Adele. She coughed and placed a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “It was a nice little apartment. Didn’t we have fun while we were growing up?”
Heidi took a deep breath to collect her emotions. Their girlish dreams lay shattered like Germany’s cities. They talked like they were at the end of their lives. Maybe they were. As the Allies daily laid waste to another German city, soon there’d be no place left to hide. “Whoever thought we’d be fighting a war? Four years now. What will the next four years bring?”
Tears continued to leak from Adele’s eyes. “I expected to marry Martin Schlegel, but he was shot down over England. And you, you lost Erich.” She rubbed her eyes and dug through a bottom bureau drawer. “I want to show you something. We got a wedding gift from the state. Here it is.”
She withdrew a copy of Mein Kampf and held it up.
Heidi’s brows rose. “How utterly fascinating.”
She’d gotten the standard gift, too.
“And look.” Adele flipped open the front cover. “It’s dedicated to the wedding couple, September, 1943. Isn’t that sweet?” Adele convulsed in laughter. “Such delightful bedtime reading, don’t you think? I don’t want to read Hitler’s thoughts. Either it will cure insomnia or cause nightmares.”
Heidi smiled and shook out the wedding dress. She narrowed her eyes, turning the dress this way and that. “Now then, will your mother mind if I shorten the sleeves? I can transform this into a dress you’ll be proud to wear.”
Supper was ready when Mama and the men returned home from the factory. Papa hugged his girls. He was pleased to have them home for a while. Mama chattered about how nice it was to have a meal waiting, but Konrad only snarled what apparently passed for a greeting. Lieselotte was right. Thirty minutes in his company and Heidi wanted to shove him out the door.
As the girls cleaned up after the meal, Konrad barked at Lieselotte, “Why did you leave your sewing on the bed? Is it too hard for you to put things away?”
Pain filled Lieselotte’s eyes as her hand stiffened on the pan she held. Gretchen turned from the sink in shock, missing the drying rack, and nearly dropping a plate on the floor.
Konrad stormed out the back door.
Heidi clunked down the bowl she held and marched out after him, right past Lieselotte’s cautioning hand. She caught up with Konrad in the yard. “Just what do you think you’re doing, treating your wife like that?”
He swung around. “Mind your own business, Heidi.”
“You and Lieselotte are part of my family. That makes you my business.” She cut him off before he could speak. “Lieselotte is the best thing that ever happened to you. Do you know she’s ready to head back to Bremerhaven? You’ll be a fool if you drive her away. Certainly losing your eye and foot is ghastly, but concentrate on what you still have before you lose that too. You don’t know how lucky you are.” Tears stung her eyes as she turned to hurry back into the house.
Konrad could move fast on one and a half feet and a cane. His arms came around her before she was halfway to the door. He turned her around and held her to his chest. Struggling against his hold was useless. She pounded on his chest.
“I’m sorry, Heidi. I’m so, so sorry.” Horror tinged his voice. “I forgot all about Erich.”
Forgot about her husband? Some brother Konrad was. Someday this might be considered a funny incident. All she could manage now were tears, and one last punch. Konrad’s hand stroked her back.
His voice came to her in a whisper. “This war is a catastrophe for Germany. No way can we win. Even if by some odd chance we did, that wouldn’t end the nightmare. The Nazis are evil through and through. Should they win, they’ll clamp down harder on us.”
“I wish we had stayed in America. We were happy there. Free.” She sniffed. “I wouldn’t have married Erich, but I wouldn’t have all this pain. Gretchen wouldn’t have been enamored by Lebensborn.” Konrad tensed and she shrugged into his shoulder. “She’s come to her senses.” She rubbed her face on his shirt to dry her tears and he pressed a handkerchief into her hand. “And Papa wouldn’t have aged so.”
“Sometimes I think God has turned His back on Germany. We’re no different than Job. Everything’s being stripped away. God has put us in Satan’s hands, without any restraints.” His sigh vibrated his chest. “We’re being destroyed from without and from within.” He slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her back to the house.
Chapter Twelve
Coral Gables, Florida
Friday, October 1, 1943
Time dragged when they d
idn’t have classes on weekends. Paul couldn’t spend all his time on the beach. Good thing Livvy had ideas. Visiting Parrot Jungle would help fill a few hours.
Or not. One hour was plenty. Amazing how the colorful macaws could be so visually beautiful and so audibly atrocious. If one more shrieked in his ear, he just might take up bird hunting. He quickstepped through the aviary door and paused beside a pond where dozens of flamingoes gathered. Quiet flamingoes.
Their pale pink coloring appeared washed out after the riotous colors of the parrots. Paul smiled. “God must have laughed when He created the flamingoes.”
Livvy gave him a startled look. “Do you really think a God created them?”
So she didn’t believe in creation. Then her emphasis on God registered. He eased his hands into his pockets. “You don’t believe in God? I thought you believed in heaven.”
She uttered a mild scoff. “How can you? If there is a God, this world wouldn’t be in such a mess.” She shrugged. “Heaven is where you go when you die.”
Paul stared at the flamingoes with their impossibly long skinny necks, pencil thin legs, and big beaks. Arguing for God’s existence wouldn’t change her mind. A different direction was needed here. “Did you attend Sunday school when you were young?”
Her brows hitched upward. Yep, she’d expected him to be defensive.
“Yes, I heard all about Noah’s ark, and Daniel and the lions’ den, and Joshua and Jericho. Myths from past millenniums.”
“I find that believing in God is easier than believing everything in the universe happened by chance. When I peer through my telescope into the night sky, I am amazed at the paths of the planets and the stars. Only the earth can support life, from its precise distance from the sun to the tilt of its axis. Or consider the intense beauty on earth.” He raised his gaze from the flamingoes to the frothy clouds floating across the sky. “If the earth just happened, it would be functional, but instead it has incredible beauty, at least where man hasn’t messed it up.”
He dug a penny out of his wallet and bought a cup of bird feed. Livvy watched in silence as he scattered a handful of corn.
“Well, a God may have gotten everything going, but He’s not interested in our lives now.”
Paul dipped his head so she couldn’t see his smile. She’d gone from claiming no belief in God to admitting His existence. He still needed to tread cautiously. “Because he allowed Rachel to die? And Dick?”
Livvy didn’t say anything, but her chin came up.
“I’ll admit I was mad at God for allowing Rachel to die. He could have healed her. I still am mad sometimes.” His cup empty, the flamingoes abandoned him. “But I still choose to believe in Him, because nothing else makes sense. And I have hope. I know where Rachel is and I believe I will join her someday. Considering I’m heading for war, that day may be sooner rather than later. And something else.” He twirled the cup on a finger before looking her in the eye. “Heaven is God’s home. If you’re not a friend of His, do you think He’ll invite you in when you die?”
Livvy stared at him, a hint of worry in the frown puckering her brow. He’d given her something to think about.
He added his cup to the stack on the table and smiled. “Seen enough? How about walking on the shore? I’m really going to miss the beach when I leave here.”
Hagen, Germany
Same Day
The Steinhorsts arrived at a church filling with guests for Adele’s evening wedding. Cristl joined them, looping her arm with Heidi’s as they waited to be seated. She whispered, “My parents were married here, and I was baptized here, but now this church has a spooky feel.”
Heidi toyed with a lock of hair. “You’re right. Like we shouldn’t come in here.”
The National Socialists demanded the church’s allegiance. They forbid talk of Jesus, because Jesus was a Jew. Ministers must confine their sermons to “God.” Songs could not contain the words Israel or Zion. Most churches knuckled under.
Like Cristl’s family, the Steinhorsts attended a Confessing Church, which remained true to the Reformation confessions of faith and refused to submit to the Party. The Gestapo kept the clergy under constant watch, subject to searches and telephone taps. Their salaries were less, and many pastors were drafted or arrested on false charges and imprisoned. Heidi didn’t possess their courage.
“I’m surprised Adele’s getting a church ceremony. I wouldn’t have thought her father would agree to more than the civil wedding at city hall.”
“I believe this segment is her mother’s doing. Oh, see that man over by the window? No, don’t look.” Cristl yanked Heidi’s arm. “He asked me to marry him.”
“What?” Heidi wrenched free and swept her gaze around the foyer. “How do you know him?”
“I don’t know him,” Cristl hissed in her ear, “and I don’t want to. He insists that he has to get married as soon as possible.”
Heidi hunched her shoulders against a sudden chill. “Gretchen and I have laughed over advertisements in the paper by men looking for women. One said…” She cast a quick glance around before deepening her voice, “‘My führer wants me to marry. Therefore I want a young woman of pure Aryan breed, blonde, slender but well developed, and wealthy.’ Can you imagine answering such an ad? A woman could have the personality of a wild boar or a doormat, but if she’s beautiful and rich, no problem.”
“I’d rather end up an old maid.” Cristl bit her lip. “The way all the good men are dying, I probably will.”
“My sister agrees with you.”
The wedding ceremony might have seemed normal had the minister emphasized the establishment of a Christian home instead of a National Socialist home. Adele didn’t glow with joy, but she stood erect and dignified. Bruno looked pleased with her. Maybe Adele had captured his affection. That would be wonderful for her.
The festivities moved to the church’s social hall, and Heidi studied the groom as he and Adele began to dance. He was handsome, despite wearing his Gestapo uniform with its death head emblem. His Hitler moustache didn’t do a thing for him, and Heidi’s lips twitched. It would brush Adele’s face whenever they kissed. Relaxed and happy, his smile came naturally as he spoke to her. They twirled about the dance floor looking exactly as a newlywed couple should. Heidi didn’t have much experience with Gestapo agents, but Bruno seemed a decent sort. Her mouth turned down. Of course, he wasn’t arresting or torturing anyone at present.
The best man cornered Heidi and insisted on a dance. She smiled even though her jaw clenched when he bragged about his exploits. “We’ll arrest the swine for betraying the Fatherland.”
If he dropped the name of his intended victims, she’d warn them to flee. When the dance ended, she pulled away and headed for the refreshment table to escape. He failed to take the hint and followed her.
Gretchen served her a glass of punch. “Are you having—?”
“How would you like to drive out into the country with me tomorrow?” The best man interrupted. “We’ll have a great time.”
If Bruno was anything like his Gestapo pal, Adele was in for a rough time. Heidi sidestepped his effort to snake his arm around her waist. The guy was worse than an octopus. “I’m sure my husband would not approve.”
He looked surprised. “You’re married? Where is he?”
“Erich is a submariner. He’s out on patrol.” She swallowed a laugh at Gretchen’s wide eyes and dropped jaw.
“A U-boater, huh?” The best man sniffed. “They seem quite full of themselves.”
And you are not? How dare he insult Erich. A familiar couple crossed the dance floor, and she seized the opportunity to get away, exclaiming, “Oh, look, Gretchen. There are the, uh,” she grabbed a name out of the air, “the Heitmanns. We should greet them.”
Grabbing Gretchen’s hand, she pulled her away from the punch table, nearly spilling her sister’s glass.
“What were you talking about?” Gretchen held her glass away from her dress. “Erich’s not out on patrol.�
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“He never came back, so of course he’s still out there.” Heidi straightened her sister’s collar. “Bruno may tell him Erich’s dead if he asks, but at least I don’t have to put up with his maudlin behavior anymore.”
Gretchen nearly choked on her punch when she laughed. “That’d be something. A phantom U-boat marauding with a skeleton crew.”
Heidi stepped back as images from her reoccurring nightmares mocked her. She dragged in a slow breath. She could only blame herself for painting the picture in her sister’s mind.
Restlessness followed her home. Erich should be here. It wasn’t fair that good men like him should die while snakes like that best man merrily went their way. Sleep came slowly as she lay in bed, planning everything she wanted to accomplish before returning to Bickenbach. No sooner had she fallen asleep, she jerked awake. The air raid sirens were wailing.
Chapter Thirteen
Hagen, Germany
Saturday, October 2, 1943
Heidi jumped out of bed, heart pounding, as the eerie shriek of the siren reverberated in her head. She stepped into a skirt and yanked it up, only to wrench it off because it was upside down. Her hands shook as she attempted to button her blouse. The buttons weren’t matched with the right buttonholes, but she dared not take time to correct them. She stepped on Gretchen’s fingers, causing her sister to wail as she felt around the floor for her shoes.
The siren’s signal changed and Heidi’s blood ran cold. High alert. No longer did they warn of enemy aircraft in the general vicinity, but of planes likely headed for Hagen.
“Hurry, girls,” Papa called. “We must get down into the cellar.”
The girls tangled as they grabbed the emergency packs they kept ready by the door. A distant whoomp lent haste to Heidi’s steps as they rushed from their room. “Bombs are falling.” She resisted the urge to push her sister. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.”