I quickly realized that what pleased my father the most was my happiness. So I learned to appear happy, even if I wasn’t.
Father constantly worried about me. He cried when he told me that he was sending me away to the Kleists’ farm in East Prussia for safety. I wanted to cry too. I wanted to scream and refuse. But it hurt so much to see him sad, losing all that he loved. So I assured him that he was right, it was for the best, and that I was not upset. I told him that we would see each other in a couple of years, when the war of winter turned to spring.
I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.
florian
The Polish kid would not give up. She was fifteen, pregnant with her boyfriend’s baby, pregnant with a vision of freedom. And she was brave. I couldn’t deny that.
There was something else I couldn’t deny. Time was running out. I had bullied my way through a couple young guards in rural outposts, but Gotenhafen would be altogether different. Gotenhafen was a major base for the Kriegsmarine, the German navy of the Nazi regime. The military presence would be thick and constant. The naval base and port were also a prime target for Russia’s Red Army. They said that Koch himself had left K?nigsberg. When had he left and where exactly was he now?
Heavy snow fell. I didn’t mind the freezing temperature. The cold lowered the risk of infection in my wound. It kept me alert.
“Beck,” the soldier called out. “That one’s yours.” A small boat sped up to a rotting pier. I said nothing, just turned and walked toward the pier, the pink hat following close behind.
If I had to take the Polish girl in the boat I would. She would be lost amidst the chaos in Gotenhafen. She’d have to deal with her Latvian papers and her pregnancy by herself. A sense of relief washed over me. I would soon be back on my own. I stepped onto the pier and nodded to the driver of the boat.
“Wait, all of you?” he asked.
I turned to find the entire group standing behind me on the pier. The little boy approached and held up the earless rabbit, asking if he too could come to Gotenhafen.
The nurse’s eyes found mine. Yes, you owe us, they seemed to say.
alfred
Good evening, sweet Hannelore,
I’m taking a bit of air on the deck of the Gustloff. Although it is minus ten degrees centigrade and the wind is howling, it is nice to breathe freely. Everyone seems to smoke. You know how cigarette smoke bothers me. It would upset me greatly to see you defile your candied mouth with foulness like so many young girls I see. Have you done that, Hannelore? Of course you haven’t.
From up on deck I can see into the port and its surroundings. There must be thirty thousand people in the sea of humanity down there. And they say the operation hasn’t even truly begun.
We are kept company by other ships here in the port. I can see Hansa, merchant ships, old fishing boats, trawlers, and even dinghies that have brought fleeing people from the nearby lagoon. I am told that the Gustloff will sail for the German port of Kiel, an expected journey of forty-eight hours. I am wondering how she will fare as a heavy-weather boat, considering she was built for calm voyages under sunny skies and has not sailed for four years.
One of our captains in charge is Captain Petersen. He is a pleasant white-haired fellow in his mid-sixties. Many of the other naval personnel have gone ashore to defend the port. They have been replaced on board by a Croatian deck crew. It is annoying to have to share everything with the personnel, but fear not. I have devised clever alternatives. Today I marked one of the toilets as inoperable. So from now on I will have it all to myself. Quite clever of your Alfie.
Some at home did not appreciate my cleverness or abilities. They saw me as a birdie with a troubled wing that should remain close to the nest. They didn’t know the truth.
I am quite confident that no one is aware of my ingenuity and objectives. I just might surprise them all, Hannelore. War is full of duty and decision. You know I have made that commitment.
Yes, life can be lonely for the truly exceptional, darling. So I build my own nest and feather it with thoughts of you.
joana
We arrived in Gotenhafen at dusk, our faces red and chapped from the wind on the water. Emilia had been sick through most of the boat trip, but insisted she was fine. Her face was the color of phlegm as we walked into the port. She held on to the sleeve of the German to steady herself. We needed to find a place for her to rest, something for her to eat.
For weeks we had trekked to get to the port. Nothing could have prepared us for what we found there. Horses and animals, lost or abandoned by their owners, roamed helpless in the streets. Gray naval supply trucks zoomed about. Crates, boxes, luggage, and provisions lined the quays.