Any Survivors (2008) (20 page)

They really were treating me like a baby. No one was letting me – the main person in this dialogue – say a word on my own. Everyone was shouting: ‘He doesn't want a chess set – he wants to play a game of chess!’

‘With a master!’ another one said. ‘He wants to beat the world champion!’

The official asked for silence. ‘If I understand correctly, Herr Unteroffizier, you would like to play a game of chess with a master. Although this is a sensible and honourable wish, I am not sure how feasible it is in the current climate, but hold on a minute.’

The man was a magician. He managed to pull out a registry of members of the local chess club. He scanned the names: ‘Elias, struck off; Witkovski, struck off. Aha, here is one I know personally but … hmm, hmm.’ He leaned over towards me. ‘I know a man who is a truly recognised player and once one of the internationals. A nice man, very learned, only …’ Then he asked me straight out: ‘Do you mind, the man is a bit of a half-breed: out of his four grandparents, one of his grandmothers is not 100 per cent. He had been removed from the board of directors of the chess club but is still allowed to carry on as a normal member. He is meant to be one of the cleverest and most dazzling players around.’

I nearly answered, ‘that's ridiculous, why would I mind’, but I remembered Leo's words. You can get away with most things: bigamy, perjury, incest, forgery, but the one thing people will not forgive is religious tolerance or indeed philo-Semitism. My answer was a little frosty: ‘If the man can play, then why not. Perhaps you could urge him to hold back when it comes to social situations. We wouldn't want him to fraternise too much or have to shake his hands.’

The efficient commissioner already had the telephone in one hand: ‘Hello, hello. Good morning, my dear Dr Kronhelm. Or should I say good afternoon. Yes, I too regret that we have not seen each other for so long. But you know how it is: business worries and activities for the party. We sacrifice most of our days. Now, don't be silly, no one is criticising you! Having said that, I do have the perfect opportunity for you to do something for the Fatherland. We have a young sailor here. One of the U-boat XY crew. You must have heard of the rewards we are giving out. The young man would like to play chess with a master and I immediately thought of you. Now, now, that's enough now. It's not as if I'm bestowing an honorary citizenship! Yes, he is aware. I have just told him. No, he is fine with it. I will fill you in before the game. Yes, why don't you make your way over? No, don't be ridiculous. There is no need for you to bring your decorations from the previous war. Nobody is in the least bit interested. Now, now, you should be glad you are not young enough to fight in this war. You know where to find us. The home is on the north side of the quay. I'm expecting you!’

He put the telephone down and wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘I estimate that the man will be here in fifteen minutes. You have a chess board and chess pieces in the mess hall, is that right? I thought so. Everything is in order then. A game of chess can take hours, I have been informed. But that is okay, we are in the middle of a war. If you are entering a battle you cannot always say when you will finish. It is a matter of grinning and bearing it. But I don't want you to think that my duties are without dangers, on the contrary!’ None of us felt like arguing with him.

I was feeling quite peckish by now, and the rewards were starting to repeat themselves, so I took the opportunity to have some lunch. I felt a little anxious about the impending game of chess. How was I meant to play it? My predecessor had wished for this opportunity all of his life. And I was not keen at all. At best I was a mediocre player, good enough to know how the pieces moved from square to square and even how to set them up at the beginning. I was also dreading my opponent. After what I had heard on the telephone he seemed to be a bitter man with a tendency to be overly effusive. I also hated the silly business about his not being of pure blood and the role I had to play in this comedy. I could not stop myself; I was secretly hoping for a Jew in a traditional cloak with a Russian-Jewish name, long beard and side-curls. With such a partner I would know where I was from the first moment. He would look right through me with his beady eyes and help me survive this difficult situation. Perhaps he would also tell me the latest joke that was making the rounds. I was not so sure about this partner with a diluted bloodline of 1 to 2.5.

‘You’re still not eating. You need to get your strength back!’ the Student said reproachfully in passing. I was eating my soup listlessly with my mind elsewhere and it had gone cold in the meantime. I was due to go back into the hall because my partner had now arrived. His face worn and grey, features regular and striking, he looked a little like Goethe or Gerhard Hauptmann. His lips were engaged in a constant mumble. I could not help but imagine he was saying, ‘I am only three-quarters; I am only three-quarters’ to remind himself.

When the sentry brought him in the official moved towards him, shook the listless hand he was offered and whispered something in his ear. The man with the elegant brow nodded earnestly and greeted me, bowing slightly, his arms pressed firmly against his side. I nodded coolly. He said, ‘This is my first happy day in a long while. This is also the first little thing that I am able to do for my country during this war …’

‘All right, that's great,’ I interrupted. ‘I would be grateful if we could start now if that is okay with you.’

We took our seats opposite one another in the middle of the room where the improvised games table had been set up. The spectators had surrounded us in a close circle and were reverently watching the master as he took a white and a black piece in his hands and offered me his closed fists. I refused to leave the decision in the hands of fate and demanded black. I had no trouble setting up the board, remembering the order reasonably well, and I was also able to follow my opponent's actions. He nodded as if to say we were ready to proceed. One of the spectators shouted, ‘
Achtung, Los!
– Watch it, here goes!’ and the master made his first move.

At this I protested. ‘I would like to make the first move,’ I said.

The master looked at me despairingly. ‘But how could you, you chose black.’

On this occasion I thought it best to concede. ‘Okay fine. Have your own way, but I must say I find it a little strange that you will not allow me the first move as this game is in my honour.’

My friends mumbled discontentedly. The master was not making himself popular by showing himself to be an unyielding pedant so early on in the game. He chose to open the game with a very simple tactic of moving a pawn two forward. I replicated the move, smiled satisfied and leaned back in my chair. This was the sign the audience was waiting for. ‘Bravo, Bravo! Give it to him!’ they shouted in their support. I thought it was a bit early for applause but it went down very well and my mood improved no end.

The chess master looked pained and a little nervous. ‘I'm not used to playing in such an environment.’ Now was a good opportunity to have a go at him.

‘Whatever happened to doing your bit for the Fatherland?’ I queried. ‘Did you intend to measure the atmosphere first? Do you think that this is what we sailors would do in a naval battle?’ The applause and mutterings grew louder. They appreciated my ready wit and the master apologised grudgingly.

The game progressed quickly. Only six or seven moves later he claimed check! His knight (mine were still in their base) was threatening both my king and queen. I thought long and hard about how to counter his attack, but the more I thought, the less my perspectives grew. If I saved the king, the knight would take my queen, my king would be in danger again and I would not even be in a position to punish the impudent knight for his cheeky move. I did not think the man was capable of such perfidious actions having such a noble brow.

‘Queen in check! King in check!’ My opponent was saying.

The spectators gathered around the table. They weren't holding their breath. On the contrary, there was much audible wheezing and sniffling. It was up to me to save the reputation of the entire fleet. I finally had the answer. I always thought it was a little unfair that the king could only move one square forward or to the side – no better than a pawn really. I corrected this. Why shouldn't the king move at least as far as a knight? I leapt forward with the king, took his knight and jumped back straight away because I didn't feel he was safe in his new position. Then I leant back and smiled victoriously, while the audience applauded wildly. Not one of them knew the rules of chess.

‘You are not allowed to make that move! Take it back!’ my opponent threatened me, his brow furrowed.

‘I wouldn't dream of it. I won't take it back! Do you think I didn't witness the planning of your treacherous attack?’ He went very pale and did not move. ‘You must continue.’ He shook his head.

Now the audience grew unruly: ‘You must play on. We won't put up with it!’

It was getting so noisy that the commissioner, who was dealing with the last two sailors and trying to persuade them to accept cinema tickets to save time, looked over and gave us a disapproving look. The master conceded but changed his tactic. He placed piece after piece so that I could easily capture it and, after each gain, booming applause was heard. Words of encouragement and acclaim were raining down on me: ‘Hey mate, give it to him! Blitzkrieg it is indeed, ho, ho, torpedo him down to the ground!’

When I finally took his king, he was only protected by a few solitary pawns. The other pieces had already fallen in battle. I was preparing to capture the final pawns when he stopped me from doing so by getting up and wiping all the remaining pieces off the board. He bowed.

I remembered and understood: this was not out of malice. Once the king is dead, the game is lost. Although the master had his arms behind his back, I managed to grab his hand and shake it vigorously. I hoped that this action would not be interpreted as a sign of my philo-Semitism. What a funny little man; that he had been degraded and ostracised by a perceived fault in his grandmother's ancestry was something he had resigned himself to, but to play a game of chess with special rules was something he was unable to bear. I was not able to reap the benefit of my mates’ applause after my clear victory.

This episode paled into insignificance next to the occurrences that were about to take place. Doors were opened wide, commands shouted. Everyone began to run around aimlessly. We were given the instructions to board the trains to Berchtesgaden.

This was meant to be a health resort? Normally you would find a good number of benches, a spa, a picturesque promenade and a benign attitude towards visitors. We were guests here, esteemed guests, invited by our Führer and yet we were treated with military brevity. If I had to honestly write down my impressions of the atmosphere I would have likened it to General Headquarters. Even the reception was typically military in its courtesy.

The nice man from the
Leibstandarte
was somewhere between
Ehrenkavalie
r and Grand Inquisitor. ‘Where would you like to be put up?’ he asked me, but spoke so quickly that I didn't understand him straight away. ‘A single room? I can offer a small room on the fourth floor. Or with your comrades? In that case, I would be able to offer you a bedroom with a view of the mountains.’ Without thinking I went for the single room because I wanted to collect my thoughts and reconsider my situation. I quickly regretted it as I feared being on my own and the inevitable descent into negative thoughts. But it was too late to change my mind. He had already crossed my name off the list and allocated a room on the fourth floor with a small window facing the courtyard.

It was already late afternoon, damp and grey outside and rain threatened at any moment. There was no view of the mountains. Despite the hotel's grandness I found my tiny room depressing. It was nicely furnished with a chest, wash cabinets made of pale wood and a comfortable spring mattress. There were two paintings: a hunting scene on one wall and a stag resting in a clearing on the other. The bedside rug was made of goatskin. The air was a little clammy. It seemed that the room hadn't been used for a while. Dead flies had gathered on the windowsill and the light pull. Although I was a little cold from lack of heating, I pulled back the floral curtains and opened the window. All I could see was the dreary grey brick wall opposite. There was a bit of daylight left enabling me to see a little more. There was also a rain gutter painted dark green. I lay down on the bed, half-clothed, regarding the gutter and began my negative musings …

I had set out on an adventure, in the worst of seasons, hoping to help all mankind and bring peace back to earth. But this was not to be! Maybe if I had been a true genius such as da Vinci or Copernicus. As an ordinary person I must lack the deep and heartfelt connection to humanity. I was unable to see the whole picture, seeing instead a mass of individual beings, similar to meal worms, each occupied with their own little worm interests. These do not form a collective mass. On the contrary, one might desire the sunshine, the other yearn for rain. Even if I brought peace to all, I would not be able to help each and every one of them. Let us consider, for example, a Herr van der Stixt in Nether-Neutralia, who has just purchased 100 boxes of tinned sardines with his friends. If the war ends the price of these will plummet and he will lose all his money. Signorina Nina Baldi from South-Neutralia, near the coast, is not so keen for the war to end either. That would mean she would see her husband again, an officer in the
Bersaglieri
unit at the border, and could not see her Carlo every day. Humankind does not form a coherent unit or family, but rather is a concept in natural history and as such does not benefit from such sacrifices.

In only a few days from today I would be required to help solve the great historical problems we were facing and I was unable to concentrate because I was stuck in this room without a view. The only highlight was the constant sight of the gutter. But then my heart skipped a beat. The gutter, the only noteworthy object in my otherwise bleak outlook, suddenly made a noticeable movement downwards. I stared aghast as it jerked again, moved further down and disappeared slowly out of my view, like a snake creeping into a hole. I was reminded of the terrible story of King Belshazzar, who experienced the writing on the wall of his palace by a disembodied hand. What terrible warning I was receiving! Here I was thinking, ‘I have nothing to rest my eyes upon but this rain gutter’ and, at that moment, the gutter disappeared. I didn't want to delve further into the potential symbolic meaning of this. All I knew was that I no longer wanted to be alone. I needed company, laughter, friends with whom I could discuss trivial things, otherwise I would go mad. I was at least half-dressed, albeit without shoes and with my shirt unbuttoned. I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, which was looking a bit wild by now, and ran down the stairs all the way from the fourth floor to the lobby, hoping to find my comrades and their reassuring words.