Читать книгу Her Hidden Life: A captivating story of history, danger and risking it all for love - V.S. Alexander - Страница 13

I returned to a ransacked room. Ursula’s things had been removed. Our small closet stood open … Books and papers from the shelves had been scattered about. Shivering, I cleared a place on my bed, sat down and cried.

I cried for myself as much as Ursula. Fear crept over me. Was there no one I could trust? What about Captain Weber? A thought jolted me. What had Karl and Ursula been talking about in the Teahouse when we visited it? Could he have known about the poison? It made no sense to me – how could Ursula have been so foolish? Was Karl an accomplice? My gloomy questions distressed me. Ursula had ended her life and put mine in danger. She was mad to think she could have ever succeeded – but I dared not think about the attempt!

Someone knocked on the door. I wiped my tears and composed myself. I had no time to answer before I heard the turn of the doorknob. The door swung open and Cook stepped into the room. She was in great distress: her face crimped in pain, her hands clenched. She lurched about in the small space between the beds, more agitated than I’d ever seen her.

‘Did you know anything of this?’ She slowed her steps and paced back and forth near the door like a caged tiger.

‘Of course not,’ I said, and looked away. I couldn’t imagine she expected me to answer ‘yes.’

‘Look at me! Never avert your eyes when the SS or the Gestapo question you.’ Her face reddened. ‘You might as well admit your guilt. If you give them any indication you’re lying, they will beat you until they have what they want to hear.’

I sobbed at her harsh words. ‘I don’t know how this happened. How could Ursula do such a thing?’

Cook sat next to me and her voice softened. ‘I believe you knew nothing of this, but you must prove your innocence. I know Ursula suffered because of her brothers’ deaths – but to attempt such an insane act! How could she be so callous? In an attempt to poison the Führer she has ended her life and dishonored her family. The Gestapo will question all of us.’ She wrung her hands. ‘What a stupid woman.’

I looked at her, not knowing what to say. I had proclaimed my innocence, yet I could tell no one about the powder I saw upon Ursula’s apron. To do so would implicate me.

‘Captain Weber has called for a new taster, but she won’t be here until tomorrow,’ Cook said. ‘Tonight you must taste all the food. Be in the kitchen by seven.’

She left and I changed out of my Bavarian costume into my work clothes. In a fury, I threw the Bavarian dress on the bed, disgusted by the event it represented. I wanted to tear it to bits and toss it into the hall as a reminder to Eva of her ridiculous idea.

Soon another knock, loud and firm, interrupted me. I opened the door and was shocked to see the Colonel. He pushed past me, sat on the desk chair and eyed me suspiciously. I took Cook’s advice and looked into his eyes as he questioned me.

At one point, he asked, ‘Have you stopped smuggling poison into the Berghof?’ I caught his trick. Either answer, negative or affirmative, would have incriminated me.

‘I never brought poison into the Berghof for her or anyone else. I had no idea Ursula was carrying out such a plan.’

He stared me down and asked where Ursula might have gotten it. I told him I didn’t know; it was absurd to ask me.

He seemed satisfied by my answers, but asked me more questions about my habits. He wanted to know who I knew at the Berghof, what I felt about the Reich.

My stomach turned when I answered questions about the Reich. For the first time in my life, I was lying to save myself. Only anger and pain about Ursula’s death, Hitler and the war filled me. The Colonel told me, from now on, to report any suspicious behaviors directly to him. The kitchen and staff would be under special watch. He said good-bye, stood and saluted the Führer. I had no choice but to do the same.

That night, in the kitchen, two SS guards watched the staff’s every move. I didn’t know them because my contact with the Leibstandarte had primarily been limited to Karl and Franz. One of the guards, a rat-like man with greasy blond hair, observed my tasting. My nerves were on edge. I wondered if Ursula had spread cyanide in the food as well as the tea. The kitchen door slammed and I dropped a spoonful of an asparagus dish destined for Hitler. The SS man was quick to act. He pointed menacingly and commanded me to take another bite. Cook glowered at him, but it did no good. Tensions were running high. I managed to make it through the tastings, but I trembled with every bite as dread shook me.

The next morning, Cook gave me a list of vegetables and asked me to record the number of those plants in the greenhouses. I gathered the inventory books and walked up the grassy slope to the glass and metal structures that glinted in the silvery morning haze. The air felt fresh and dewy against my skin; the sunlight had that magical, ethereal effect, painting the surrounding mountains in muted pastels. It was like walking in a watercolor.

The greenhouses were two tiered, both about 150 meters long. Most of the fresh food for Hitler was grown here. There was also a ‘mushroom house.’ Cook had told me that the Führer rarely ate them, but apparently others did in enough quantity to warrant a special growing area.

I opened the door to the lower greenhouse and stepped inside. Even though the morning was cool, the greenhouse was warm. I took off my jacket and draped it over a metal stand. A patchwork quilt of plants lay on the floor as far as I could see. I grabbed my book and pen and walked past the square plots until I got to a plant I recognized on my list – cucumbers. I bent down and began counting the staked plants festooned with their starry yellow flowers. The door opened behind me.

Karl stood at the entrance. He put his right hand over his eyes to shade them from the light and stared at me. I waved. He called my name and walked quickly toward me. We were the only two people in the greenhouse.

When he got to me, he stopped and looked the greenhouse over from top to bottom. He whispered in my ear, ‘Be careful what you say.’

‘I can only talk a few minutes,’ I said. ‘I have a job to do for Cook.’

I picked up my jacket and left the inventory books on the stand. We walked down the paved road in front of the greenhouses. Karl breathed easier when we got to a safe spot. Below us, the Berghof glowed in the sun.

‘How did it go with the Colonel?’ Karl asked.

I looked at him, trying to gauge the intent of his question, wondering whether I should trust him. There was something about him – a kindness, a willingness to listen – that made me want to trust him, to feel comfortable enough to talk honestly. ‘I answered his questions,’ I said, trying to be non-committal.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold cigarette lighter. He fidgeted with it and turned it over in his palm a few times. ‘I’m still trying to give them up.’ He pointed to the lighter. ‘At least it gives me something to do.’ He chuckled and then asked, ‘Did you notice anything unusual about Ursula before you went to the Teahouse?’

I shook my head.

Karl’s face tensed and his gaze narrowed. He put his arm around my shoulder; his face was close to mine. ‘I told the Colonel you knew nothing about the incident yesterday, despite what you may have seen.’

My heart raced.

‘I protected you in every way I could,’ he continued.

‘Why?’

‘Because – ’ He drew away and looked at the lighter in his hand. ‘This is hard for me to admit, but since you’ve come to the Berghof, I’ve been unable to think of much else besides you.’ He turned away, as if he was afraid of what I might tell him.

I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘I’ve thought about you as well.’

He turned, his face flushed. ‘Really? I’m very happy to hear that.’

I laughed. ‘You don’t have to be so formal, Karl. This is as new for me as I suspect it is for you.’ I pulled him to me and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

‘Thank you.’ He looked around. Far up the hill a group of SS officers were walking down from the barracks. Karl took my hands in his. ‘We don’t have much time. I want to share something with you, Magda. It’s important to me. That’s only part of it – there’s much more. It concerns the war. Do you want to know why it’s important to me?’

I nodded.

‘Then I’ll come by your room tonight when it’s safe. You must trust me as I trust you.’ He kissed me. ‘Go back to work. I have to go.’

He walked quickly toward the Berghof as I headed back to the greenhouse. The SS officers smiled and nodded as they passed by.

I knelt next to the cucumber plants and started to count again, but couldn’t help but wonder what Karl had to tell me that was so important. However, more exciting for me was the thrill that lingered from his kiss.

A soft knock on my door woke me at two in the morning.

I pulled on my robe and opened the door a few centimeters. Karl stood in the dim hall, his face ashen in the gray light. His eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath them. He pushed the door open and slipped in through the narrow opening. My room plunged back into darkness. I had gone to bed thinking he wasn’t going to come.

‘Light a candle,’ he said.

‘Are you certain this is safe?’ I asked, aware that it was dangerous for an SS officer to be in my room at this hour. ‘I don’t have a candle. I’ll get one from the kitchen.’

‘Please, but be careful. A guard is on duty outside the entrance. I made up the story that additional investigations regarding Ursula and the poisoning were being conducted under cover of night.’

‘At this hour?’

‘I told him it was of utmost secrecy.’

I put on my slippers and stepped from the room. The Berghof was in blackout; fortunately, I had walked the hall so many times I knew where I was going. Candles and matches were stored over one of the sinks, kept there as accessories for Hitler’s evening dinners. I opened the cupboard like a thief, took them and then crept back to my room. I wondered if the Colonel was hiding under a table waiting to catch me in my nocturnal wanderings. Fortunately, neither he nor anyone else stopped me.

I found Ursula’s ashtray pushed against the wall under her bed, placed the candle in it and lit the flame. A warm yellow light flared outward in a small circle. Karl sat on my bed, his head cupped in his hands. He finally looked up, withdrew an envelope concealed in his uniform jacket and placed it beside him. He motioned for me to sit on the bed next to him.

I did so. Then he kissed me with a sudden warmth and passion.

I didn’t push him away. His lips drifted to my neck where his soft breath sent tingles down my spine. I regained my composure and broke away from his embrace even though I didn’t want him to stop. My heightened emotions made his affection too uncomfortable.

‘What is this about?’ I asked. ‘Why put us both in danger?’

He caressed my face and said, ‘I told you when we met that I recognized something different in you. I still believe that’s true.’

I looked at him, unsure what to say.

He took his hands away. ‘Franz was distraught this afternoon. He could barely answer the questions the Colonel asked him. He lied about his relationship with Ursula. Franz told the Colonel they were only friends. I know they were more than that. He told me so himself – you know how men brag.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘Because you think for yourself and you don’t want the German people to suffer any more than I do.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Tell me, are you in love with Hitler?’

I almost laughed, the question was so ludicrous. I was quick to answer. ‘In love? Not at all.’

‘Do you believe in him and the dream of the Third Reich?’ He paused as if pained by his words. ‘I’m saddened for Germany.’

I thought of my father because Karl’s words were exactly like something he would say. ‘I don’t admire the Führer,’ I said. ‘My father says he surrounds himself with bullies who do his dirty work while he enjoys life. That kind of man earns no respect. I agree with that.’

Karl picked up the envelope he’d placed on the bed, opened it and withdrew several photographs. ‘These are hard to look at, but you need to see them. Hitler is wrong about the war; he is lying about how the Reich deals with Jews and prisoners of war. The lies must be stopped.’ He handed them to me. ‘My life is in your hands.’

I tilted the photos toward the candlelight. The first series showed SS officers shooting naked men, women and children perched atop a ravine. You could even see the smoke erupting from their rifles. ‘Where is this?’ I asked, horrified by what the photos portrayed.

Karl bowed his head. ‘Near the Eastern Front.’

It was shocking enough that our soldiers were shooting unarmed men – but women and children as well?

The second set of photos was even more gruesome and I blanched at the sight of corpses entwined in death. There were so many you could not tell where one body ended and the next began. The photos showed mounds of luggage, shoes and eyeglasses, followed by mountains of decomposing flesh. I was stunned. In the final picture, a naked man lay dead on a slab in front of an opening that looked like the door to an oven. A prisoner – nearly a corpse himself – stood by his side, presumably to make sure the body was cremated.

‘Is this propaganda from the Allies?’ I asked, not wanting to believe what lay in front of me.

Karl shook his head. ‘No, the photos are real. They came from an SS officer at Auschwitz. You must keep what you’ve seen to yourself.’ He replaced the photos in the envelope and slid them back in his jacket. ‘There’s an underground network of officers who believe National Socialism must be stopped – for the good of Germany. We are determined to make sure this happens.’

I didn’t want to hear his words – not because of Germany, but because I was selfish. Karl’s life was in danger. Anyone who defied Hitler was doomed. ‘Only a few men know about this? You’re taking a huge risk.’

Karl nodded. ‘A risk worth dying for.’

I trembled as if an icy wind had raced over me, my body full of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I recognized my growing attraction for Karl and I admired his strength, courage and conviction. Not every man would place his life in a woman’s hands, or ask that she join him in keeping such a powerful and dangerous secret. The pictures he had shown me were already seared into my memory. What kind of tyrant could order these kinds of deaths? Shouldn’t all of Germany rise up to stop such atrocities? But so few people knew and what use would it be to start a revolution? The Reich, and its powerful officers, would crush anything in its way. Then I pictured Ursula dead upon the ground. She had sacrificed herself for her brothers. How could I dishonor her and Karl by ignoring the photographs? Karl studied me, awaiting my response. Finally, I asked, ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Offer your strength,’ he said, grasping my hands. ‘Don’t betray me. I’m not alone, but few can be trusted.’ His breath caught and he stroked my hair. ‘It’s too much to ask, but perhaps one day you’ll return the love I feel.’

I wanted to draw away because his words overwhelmed me. The only man who had ever professed love for me was my father. ‘Why should I love you when you may die? There’s no future in death.’

‘If Hitler continues to lead there will be no future for anyone.’ He rose from my bed and looked down upon me. ‘I must get back. Think about what I’ve said.’

He started to leave, but I gripped his arm. ‘Did you know Ursula was planning to poison the Führer?’

‘Only through her hints, but she talked about it as if it were a joke. That’s what we were whispering about at the Teahouse the day we went. I cautioned her not to be so brazen, but I had no idea she had taken it upon herself to poison him without anyone’s help. She was so bitter about her brothers’ deaths. I was trying to comfort her – in fact, squelch such talk about Hitler.

‘Poisoning the tea was a foolish thing to do. She would have killed everyone who drank at his table. It was a suicide mission. If she hadn’t been identified as the perpetrator, all of us might have been executed.’

I hesitated, but then admitted, ‘I saw the poison on her apron. I didn’t know what it was.’ Pangs of sorrow stabbed at me. ‘Maybe I could have stopped her if I had known, but would I want that knowledge? What would become of my parents if the SS thought I was involved? I don’t want them to die. They’re all I have in the world.’