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‘What have you got there?’ Johann asked, his tone sharp.

‘Just some pans for my mother,’ one of the boys said.

‘Everyone’s taking things,’ the other boy said. He handed Johann a watch. ‘Go on, have it. I’ll find another one.’

The voices coming from the apartment above drew Johann’s attention again and he moved past the boys, dismissing them. ‘Go home, both of you. And no more looting, you understand?’

The boys nodded and went on their way as Johann continued to climb the stairs. At the top he heard a woman whimpering, and then came one of the voices he’d heard before. It was a man’s voice.

‘Tell me the combination or I’ll beat your daughter this time.’

The whimpering woman was crying. ‘Please, no! I told you, my husband is the only one who knows it and the Gestapo have taken him.’

There was another woman in the room. ‘Leave her alone,’ she said. She sounded younger, but it was difficult to be sure. ‘It’s clear she doesn’t know the combination to the safe. Can’t you see she’s been through enough today?’

Johann heard the man’s voice again. ‘You know, there’s only one thing worse than a Jew,’ he said. ‘And that’s anyone else who looks out for them. Is that what you are? A Jew lover?’

At that moment Johann burst into the room. It was a sitting room, although it was now barely recognisable as such. Every painting and every item of soft furniture had been slashed. All the other furniture lay broken on the floor, which was covered with fragments of china and glass. It the middle of the room stood two non-uniformed men, each holding a crowbar. The taller of the two—a wiry man with a pronounced nose—was waving his crowbar at a young blonde woman, whom Johann took to be the person who had spoken out in defence of the woman these men were threatening. She had a young girl of about four years old clutched to her side. The older woman, whom Johann presumed was the child’s mother, was standing beside the safe these men were interested in. Her dark hair was knotted and unkempt. Her face was bloody and her clothes were torn to such an extent that she had to hold the top half of her dress up to maintain what little dignity she had been spared.

‘Did you do this?’ Johann said to the men, indicating the older woman, drawing attention to her beaten and dishevelled state. ‘Did you rape her?’

The wiry man shook his head. He gave a derisive laugh. ‘I wouldn’t touch a filthy Jew.’

The other man stepped closer to Johann. He was much heavier set than the other, with a bald head, and eyes that were dark and deeply set. He spoke with obvious offence at Johann’s intrusion.

‘That safe is ours. Now go away, little soldier boy, and find somewhere else to loot, while you still can.’

The man stabbed his crowbar at Johann as he spoke, making it clear that he intended to beat him with it if he didn’t leave. Johann looked at the older woman again and saw the terror in her eyes. He looked over at the younger woman and wondered what she was doing there. Clearly she wasn’t a Jew; her long grey coat bore the emblem of the
Bund Deutscher Mädel–Werk Glaube und Schönheit
—the League of German Girls’ Faith and Beauty Society—which was a section of the BDM for young women too old for the BDM and too young for the NSFrauenschaft. She wore a green, narrow brimmed felt hat, which suggested to Johann that she might also have come in from the street on hearing the older woman’s cries. He looked down at the child then. He wondered what terror she had been forced to witness and rage engulfed him. He could not let this continue.

The bald man’s crowbar was still outstretched towards Johann. With great speed and determination, he grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted his arm around, pulling him down. Then he hit him hard in the face and he fell instantly. The wiry man took a swing at Johann. His crowbar caught the side of Johann’s back, and he turned and locked his arm around the other’s, holding him in place as he slammed the base of his palm into that prominent nose of his. The man screamed in pain, and Johann continued to hold him so he could hit him again for good measure. When he let go, the man ran bleeding from the room, leaving his bald friend to fight for himself.

But he did not.

It was clear to Johann that there had never been any real fight in either of them when it came down to it. It was one thing to hit a woman or a child—a despicable and cowardly thing to his mind—but it was another matter entirely to go hand-to-hand with someone who had known fighting all his life. Johann had seen the traits many times before. Over the years he had become adept at reading the signs, and he had read this situation well. The bald man could not leave the room fast enough. He was running even before he had fully stood up, and like his wiry friend before him, he made a clatter on the stairs as he bowled down them.

Johann went to the older woman. If he’d had a coat, he would have put it around her, as much to ward off the coming night’s chill as to help restore her dignity. As he did not have a coat, he turned to the window, thinking that the material from the curtains would suffice, but as he did so, the younger woman held her own coat out for him to take.

‘Thank you,’ Johann said as he took it.

He looked at her properly then for the first time, and he thought her smile as kindly as her gesture. She was slim, medium height, and she had a small, button nose that made her blue-grey eyes appear all the bigger as he held them in his for a moment and smiled back at her.

‘Her need is greater,’ the woman said.

‘Yes,’ Johann agreed. He looked down at the little girl standing beside them. She was still clinging to the young woman as though afraid to let go. ‘And who might you be?’ Johann asked.

The girl did not answer. She just stared up at Johann, her cheeks glistening with tears.

‘Is this your mother?’ Johann asked her, pointing to the older woman.

The girl nodded. She let go of the younger woman then and ran to her mother. Johann followed her and put the coat over the woman’s shoulders. She was bent over with her face in her hands, quietly sobbing.

‘Is there somewhere you can go?’ Johann asked her. ‘Somewhere safe. I’ve no idea how long this will last.’

The woman looked up. She shook her head.

‘Then you should hide somewhere. The attic perhaps?’

The woman nodded.

‘Good. Take your daughter. I’ll find food and water and bring it to you.’

The woman stood up. ‘Where have they taken my husband?’

Johann paused before answering. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you should ask at the police station when all this is over.’

‘What will they do to him?’

Johann gave no reply. Instead, he looked pensively at the younger woman, whose blank expression offered no more answers than he had himself.

Outside the watchmaker’s shop, having found provisions and warm clothing for the watchmaker’s wife and daughter, Johann continued to look upon the woman he had just met as she buttoned up her coat, and not for the first time that day he silently wished he had brought his own. The onset of night had chilled the air further, and he imagined the woman was glad to have it back again. Without such comforts, the cold forced Johann to cross his arms around his chest as they made their way through the forever altered streets of Munich in search of more hospitable surroundings.

‘What were you doing in there?’ Johann asked. ‘They are Jews. Why were you trying to help them?’

‘I was on my way home from a BDM meeting. We were told what was going to happen to the Jews and I just wanted to get home safely, but as I approached the watchmaker’s shop I heard a child crying. Then I saw the broken glass where the shop windows had been smashed, so I went inside. I know I shouldn’t have, but a crying child is hard to ignore, Jew or otherwise. Those two men you hit must have been close behind me.’

They stopped walking and the woman offered out her hand. ‘I’m Ava, by the way. Ava Bauer.’

Johann took her hand. It felt clammy, despite the cold. ‘Johann Langner,’ he said. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances.’

‘Yes,’ Ava agreed.

A moment later, Johann asked, ‘Do you live far from here?’

‘Forty minutes on foot. I usually ride my bicycle, but it has a flat tyre. I don’t mind. I like walking.’

‘So do I. I’ll see you safely home.’

‘But you’re already cold.’

‘I don’t care. I could do with the fresh air tonight.’

They continued walking by the pale light of the streetlamps, still heading away from the burning synagogue. The red, white and black flags and banners of the Nazi Party adorned almost every building they passed, reminding Johann of the political and military machine that was behind everything he had just witnessed, which he knew was just one of many such acts of violence and destruction currently taking place in every town and city across Germany.

‘Why did
you
go in there?’ Ava asked. ‘I took you for another looter when I first saw you.’

‘For similar reasons. I heard screaming. I suppose that was the child’s mother?’

‘Yes, the men started hitting her. I expect my turn would have come soon enough.’

Johann shook his head. ‘I really don’t have the stomach for what’s going on here. Give me a fair fight for something I believe in and you’ll find no man more dedicated to his duty. But this . . .’ He waved a hand back in the direction they had come from. ‘It’s certainly not my idea of soldiering.’

‘How old are you, Johann?’

‘Twenty.’

‘Why didn’t you join the
Wehrmacht
as soon as you had the chance? How come you stayed on in the HJ?’

‘In a word, Volker.’

‘A friend?’

Johann nodded. ‘He enjoyed the leadership and the power, I suppose. We’ve known each other since joining the HJ academy here in Munich, and we’d made it a competition between us to see who could earn his achievement badges first, and who could move up the ranks before the other. It was always a close race, and one we carried on into adult leadership, even to this day. I was enjoying myself enough to let him talk me into staying on when we were invited to do so, and as Volker always says, it will put us in good stead when it’s time to become real soldiers. I suppose we’re more like brothers.’

‘Do you have any real brothers?’

Johann gazed up into the sky. It now appeared dark against the city rooftops, which were awash with moonlight. ‘No,’ he said, then feeling the need to correct himself he added, ‘that is, I had a brother, but he died before I was born. My mother told me he contracted a lung infection when he was a year old.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ava said. ‘What was his name?’

‘He was also called Johann. The name belonged to my grandfather—a common man who rose to become quite a celebrated war hero of his time. I suppose my parents were set on honouring his name.’

‘It’s a good name,’ Ava said.

Johann smiled. ‘As good as any, I suppose. You know, I often wonder what my brother would look like if he were still alive, and whether we would be friends, as it is with Volker and me.’ He laughed to himself. ‘It’s silly, I know, but I feel that since I’ve been given his name, I must live up to my father’s expectations of what my brother’s life might have been, as well as my own.’

‘That must be quite a burden for you.’

‘I don’t mind. When I need to push myself to be better than I am, I think of my brother and he spurs me on. In my mind he’s a great hero, like my grandfather. But because he’s dead I can never best him, however hard I try.’ He paused, thinking about his father and recalling how he’d often scolded him for his mistakes, letting him know that he doubted his brother would have made them were he alive.

‘But what about you?’ Johann added, preferring to talk about Ava instead. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

‘No. When I was a little girl my mother told me that as soon as I was born she knew one child was enough.’ She laughed to herself. ‘I’ve never quite known what she meant by that.’

Johann thought it was because her mother knew she had created perfection, but he didn’t dare say it. ‘I see that you volunteered to stay on in the BDM.’

‘Yes, for my music, mostly.’

‘What do you play?’

‘Piano. My father’s a teacher. Now I’ve started teaching some of the other girls.’

‘I should very much like to hear you play sometime.’

‘Yes, perhaps. Sometime.’

They continued walking at an amble. Johann had become so wrapped up in Ava that he no longer felt the cold. ‘As you’re in the BDM,’ he said, ‘you must be over eighteen.’

‘I’m twenty-one.’

‘Really? You look younger.’

Ava gave him a playful smile. ‘I bet you’ve used that line on girls before.’

‘N-no,’ Johann stammered. ‘I meant it. I wasn’t even trying to—’ He paused as he noticed Ava’s smile begin to drop. ‘That is, you look very nice and I
would
try to, but I’m sure I could come up with something better to say if that was my intention.’

‘And what would you say?’

Johann felt his cheeks flush, and he thought Ava must have noticed the sudden burst of colour in them. He stuttered and stammered again briefly as he tried to find an answer that wouldn’t embarrass him further. Then Ava began to laugh.