Berlin Wolf (28 page)

Finally the hour of their departure arrived. Peter was pleased that at long last they could move on. He trusted Lotte and her family, nevertheless he was worried the lorry driver had gone to the police. For most of the day he had kept watch at the window. Not even Franz was able to persuade him to sleep for a while.

It was dusk, but there was sufficient light to move around when the knock came at the door. Lotte looked out through the window and confirming it was her father, walked to the door and opened it.

Her father was a slight man, yet obviously strong and fit. His weather-beaten face glowed with health and he had the same bright blue eyes as Lotte. His grey hair was still quite thick and seemed to shimmer in the light. He was dressed for the outdoors with sturdy leather boots, warm wool trousers, an oiled wool jumper with matching hat and a waterproof coat. On his back he carried a grey canvas and leather rucksack from which dangled several lengths of hemp rope, two ice axes and sets of crampons. In his hands he carried a large canvas sack. On seeing the crampons Peter hoped they would not be necessary on the forthcoming hike.

‘This is my father, Jürgen,' Lotte said. She introduced her friends one at a time. Jürgen simply nodded his head and began to remove boots and coats from his canvas bag. He was a man of few words.

Normally Lotte and her friends did not disclose their names. It was safer that way for all concerned. This occasion was different. This was her father and these were her friends. She was proud of all of them and hoped he might in a small way be proud of her.

‘And this is my little Hannah,' Lotte said. With that Hannah ran forward and taking his rough hand in her tiny fingers, pumped it up and down.

Jürgen could not hold back a smile. ‘So this is the little girl who needs rescuing,' he thought. ‘Put these on. We leave in five minutes,' Lotte's father said in a business-like manner, handing out coats and boots. ‘These mountains are dangerous, especially for city folk. Do exactly what I say, when I say and do not wander off the path.'

In looks Jürgen was like Lotte, but not in temperament. She was the party girl, always ready with a witty comment, easy in company and with strangers. He, on the other hand, preferred to listen than to talk and only spoke when he had something that needed to be said. On this occasion his abruptness was reassuring. His manner exuded confidence and composure.

Having quickly donned their walking gear they set off on their journey.

‘Why don't you walk with me? You can help me show the way.' Jürgen smiled at Hannah who smiling back, placed her mittened hand in his and walked off without saying a word. Lotte was pleased, remembering similar experiences so many years earlier.

As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the temperatures dropped dramatically and their breath crystallized in the freezing air. There was little light, but the partial moon reflected off the snow so that they were at least able to see their own footsteps. The silhouette of the high mountain range was imposing and impressive at the same time.

The snow was deep in places and the effort of lifting their feet began to tell. Hannah had managed to walk some kilometres until the route began to climb steeply and Franz lifted her onto his back to carry her. Apart from Jürgen, Peter and Lotte had a rucksack each. The hated trunk had been discarded at the chalet and the two suitcases stored away. Peter had remembered the problems with Wolfi's paws in previous winters and had protected them from ice with four pieces of cloth.

As they ascended into the mountains Peter thought of his hiking trips with his papa. They had always intended to visit Oberstdorf with the famous Breitachklamm, the longest and deepest gorge in Europe with its beautiful waterfall. For some reason or other they had never made it this far.

‘One day Papa, you and I will come back here,' Peter promised himself in silence.

For the first few hours the weather favoured them. It was still bitterly cold, but clear and free from snow. Lotte surprised everyone in her speed and agility up the rocky path. Then they remembered she had spent her childhood in these mountains, no doubt accompanying her father on his rambles with tourists. She surprised them even more when she took one of the rucksacks from Franz and easily threw it over her shoulders. She seemed so different from the Lotte they knew who appeared so awkward in the woods of Berlin.

Of all of them, Wolfi coped best with the terrain. He was off the lead and stayed at the front, bounding up the path, periodically stopping to wait for his pack. Even at the points where they needed to climb, he easily scrambled up the rocks.

Their progress was gradual, if slow. The path was icy and in places treacherous, with steep drops on either side. Hannah was by now oblivious to her surroundings, having fallen asleep as she was carried by Jürgen at his insistence. Franz was now shouldering one of the three rucksacks. With each step their breathing became more laboured and noisy. Stopping for a short rest, Franz admired a high peak in the distance.

‘That's the Nebelhorn,' Lotte said. ‘Luckily we can go around it.'

Her father beamed happily. ‘You remember the way then? You haven't completely forgotten your roots?'

‘No, Papa. I have never forgotten you or Moma or these mountains,' she replied, and placed her hand on his arm.

It was close to midnight and they had been climbing for five hours. Their route was to take them south onto the ridge of peaks that separated Austria from Germany. Then they would turn towards the West and walk across the mountains towards the Bodensee and the Swiss border. In total it was about thirty kilometres with several thousand metres of climb. On his own, Jürgen could make the journey in a single day, weather permitting, and without a small child and his fellow travellers.

For now they were safely out of the town and beyond the ski slopes which were most in use. He would have preferred to carry on, but reluctantly decided that they should stop for the night. As if to confirm his decision, a snow shower began and the wind picked up. He pointed to a small hole in the face of the mountain and waved to the others to follow him.

Twenty minutes later they were in a mountain hut, a refuge for climbers, sheltering from the elements.

The mountain hut was dry and warm and pleasantly comfortable. Jürgen brewed a beef drink over a little portable stove. Hannah snoozed away in Lotte's arms, as she and Franz slept. Peter kept guard at the door as usual, with Wolfi by his side.

‘Don't worry son,' Jürgen reassured him. ‘If anyone comes here it will not be until tomorrow morning and we will already be under way. I will get you there.'

Peter was happier and began to relax a little. As neither he nor Jürgen were able to sleep they chatted a while. Mainly it was Peter who talked. He spoke lovingly of Lotte and all the sacrifices she had made, the people she had helped rescue, including Peter. Lotte's father said little in response. Peter could tell he was beginning to see a different side to his daughter.

‘You should be very proud,' Peter said, as he finished relating her adventures.

‘I am proud and always have been,' Jürgen responded. In the darkness of the cave Lotte smiled to herself and hugged Hannah tighter.

As soon as dawn broke, Jürgen roused everyone, including Peter who had slept for the first time in days. They wasted little time as Jürgen had prepared a breakfast of more beef tea and bread rolls. Quickly consuming the delicious beefy liquid, they hoisted the rucksacks on their backs and set off once more.

Hannah was excited and walked to begin with. All around the snow-capped peaks, hundreds of them, glistened in the morning sunshine. In the daylight the terrain underfoot was still difficult, but less than at night time as they could see more clearly where they were going. The path was hard to discern in places as so much fresh powdery snow had fallen overnight. Without their guide they would have struggled to stay on the correct course.

For the rest of the day they ploughed relentlessly through the snow, stopping only once at midday. At this altitude they were beyond the ski pistes and so met no-one else, not even climbers. Since the advent of the war most able-bodied men and women were otherwise occupied. As the holiday period was over there was little prospect of a chance encounter.

* * *

Back in Oberstdorf a furious lorry driver was standing at reception in the
Bayrischer Hof
. He had arrived almost ten hours early as a precaution, yet he was still too late.

‘You must know where they are!' he demanded. ‘I dropped them off outside yesterday.'

‘I am sorry sir, no-one of that description has checked into this hotel.' The young girl was becoming a little afraid.

‘There was a very pretty, young lady, blonde. She was with two sailors and she had a large trunk, about so tall.' He held his hand out to demonstrate.

‘I am sorry I have not seen them,' the receptionist repeated. The more often the young girl at reception denied that she had seen this group, the angrier he got.

Realising at last that she was not lying, he stormed off to check all the other hotels in the village, all thirty of them. He vowed he would soon find them.

‘They cannot have left as she still has to collect the second trunk,' he consoled himself.

Only when he had indeed been to each and every hotel did he finally accept he had been tricked. He did however have a lead. At one particular hotel the owner, a middle-aged local woman, had some valuable information.

‘Oh yes. I remember. They left in a large black car. A woman and two young men. That's right. They were struggling to lift both trunks into the boot. They went off on the road to Munich.' Lotte's mother could not help him anymore.

As they were no longer in Oberstdorf she must be telling the truth about them, he reasoned. If he hurried he could catch them on the road.

And so it was that as the group of friends, guided by Jürgen, made their way ever nearer to the Swiss border, the traitorous lorry driver was speeding in the wrong direction.

A full seven hours after they had set off from the mountain hut the party stood in silence. All save Jürgen looked dejected. They were at the foot of an almost vertical slab of rock stretching for almost 100 metres. The granite was icy and damp and would be a difficult ascent, even in normal conditions. Peter had climbed a little, as had Lotte. Franz should be able to reach the top. In places there were a few iron rungs to which they could attach ropes. The problem was Wolfi. He was quite a large dog and the prospect of hauling both him and Hannah up the rock face was daunting indeed.

‘We can't take the normal route. It is blocked by an avalanche,' her father explained. ‘There is a much easier route, past a checkpoint manned by soldiers. We have to climb.'

Peter's face fell. ‘I must find another route with Wolfi,' he said. ‘I cannot abandon him.'

As so often, Lotte had a solution. This was more welcome than most. ‘I can take Wolfi by the road. I have a legitimate visa and travel permit to Switzerland. I will say that the train was bombed and so I decided to cross the mountains from my home town. It should convince them as it is essentially the truth.'

She had reverted to her original heavy Bavarian accent, demonstrating thereby how convincing she could be. Noboby hearing it would doubt that she was a local girl.

‘Thank you Lotte. Thank you,' Peter said, stroking Wolfi's head at the same time. Wolfi tilted his head to one side unsure as to what was going to happen.

‘Will you be able to make the climb?' Lotte asked.

Peter nodded keenly. Franz's agreement was less convincing.

‘I will manage it Lotte, don't worry,' Franz replied.

She did not need to ask her father. She knew Hannah would be safe with him. It was a climb he had made with her when she was about the same age and in the same way. She confirmed the route she must take with Wolfi and waited until they began their ascent.

‘Now Hannah,' she said. ‘This is a new game we are going to play. My papa is going to strap you onto his back. You must keep your eyes closed until he tells you to open them and you must not move. I am going to take Wolfi for a walk and tomorrow we shall meet you for that chocolate cake.'

Lotte embraced Hannah and squeezed her tightly, planting a kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile Peter said farewell to his beloved dog. Lotte hugged both Peter and Franz, urging them to be careful and to look after Hannah, then swung around to speak to her father. She hesitated, momentarily unsure as to how she should say goodbye. The split second of awkwardness vanished as he moved quickly towards her and looping his arms around her waist, held her close.

‘I will look after them,' he said. ‘Please come and see us again when this is all over.' Lotte stayed in his comforting embrace for a few precious seconds longer. She kissed him on the cheek and then taking her rucksack in one hand and Wolfi's lead in the other, she walked away. She thought about waiting to see the boys safely up the rock, but knew that might distract Hannah. By now her father was already at the foot of the rock.

Peter watched as his good friends disappeared from view. Any worries he had about Wolfi leaving him were unfounded. Once more the clever dog had seemed to know what the situation required.

‘Good luck both of you.' Peter's hopes remained unspoken.

‘No time to hang around,' Jürgen said brusquely.

Peter and Franz looked on nervously as Jürgen reached up to the first hand hold with his left hand and lifted his right foot onto the rock. With no apparent effort he gracefully moved higher and higher, stopping periodically to place a piton in the rock, and then attach the rope with a carabiner. Hannah was firmly strapped to his back and as instructed, her eyes were tightly shut. Peter and Franz had suggested that she be hauled up once Jürgen was safely in position, but he had refused. There was a danger the rope might snag and it would be difficult for him to do anything about if from above. Climbing down was much more difficult than climbing up.

In an amazingly short time, Jürgen was standing on a ledge halfway up the face, lassooed to the rock, encouraging Franz to start the ascent. Peter was to follow up last as he had some experience. Hannah was still strapped securely to Jürgen's back with her eyes closed.

Franz hesitated. He looked up at the wall of rock. How he wished they could have used the crampons, but there was insufficient ice to dig in the metal spikes. He had been nervous not scared when he had rescued Peter from the Gestapo. Now he was terrified. He had been unable to admit it: he was scared of heights. Peter sensed his fear.

‘It's all right, Franz,' he said, laying his hand on Franz's trembling shoulder. ‘If you want you can go with Lotte and Wolfi. You will easily catch them up.'

Franz had contemplated this course, but knew it would be harder for Lotte to pull off her deception. He also had a visa for Switzerland, though as a forgery it might be unwise to submit it to too close an inspection in the circumstances. Especially as the reason for his trip was given as ‘recouperating from his war wounds'.

Telling himself to stop being so cowardly, Franz gingerly touched the cold surface of the rock. Tentatively he felt for a hand hold. As he began to climb he shouted up to Jürgen, ‘Climbing.'

‘Just remember,' Peter said, ‘nothing can happen as the rope will hold you.'

Franz moved at a snail's pace up the face until he was almost three quarters of the way to the belay point. At times he struggled to grip the rock with the soles of his boots, yet he persevered. At one point his feet gave way from under him. Jürgen had a tight hold of the rope and had taken in the slack and a nervous Franz found his footing again. His whole body shook as he moved first one limb then another and the adrenalin raced around his body. Forty minutes after he had begun, Franz clambered onto the ledge.

‘Well done lad. Now stand over there.' Jürgen pointed behind him.

It was now Peter's turn. In spite of the long years since early childhood when he had last climbed, he remembered the moves and techniques his father had taught him. In about the same time as Jürgen, he had reached the ledge.

‘Great climbing Peter.' Jürgen was clearly impressed with this boy from the city.

The second pitch was a little easier and considerably faster. Franz was still nervous, but managed to keep his footing and his head. In a surprisingly short time all four were at the top. Jürgen coiled the rope and fastened it to the straps on his rucksack. Franz had finally stopped shaking. He was sitting well back from the cliff edge.

‘Good girl Hannah. Good girl,' Peter said, bending over to see her. Her eyes were now wide awake and taking in everything around her.

‘I hope Lotte and Wolfi are safe.' Franz expressed the sentiments of them all.

They need not have worried. It was still some distance to the road that led to the border crossing. The weather was sunny and bright and Lotte and Wolfi simply enjoyed their surroundings. The walk was really quite pleasant. They made excellent progress, in spite of the snow and just before dusk they arrived at the first check point.

‘Hello boys. So pleased to see such fit young men guarding us.'

Lotte was at the Austrian side of the border. The checkpoint was manned by three young soldiers, not even out of their teens. Their uniforms drowned them and their rifles looked enormous. They gave every appearance of toy soldiers. Lotte was used to wooing a crowd and had little difficulty in convincing the three boys about her story. They barely examined her visa and she was soon in the nomansland strip, walking towards the Swiss checkpoint.

Here she had a little more difficulty. The sentry was a balding, middle-aged official who was fed up sitting in a cold sentry box. Lotte's charms had little effect on him. He was more interested in the end of his shift and his evening meal. ‘These mountains are no place for a woman on her own,' he said, shaking his head.

‘I am not on my own. I have my dog and he is a better companion than any man,' Lotte replied. Unimpressed the official stamped her passport and without further comment, she and Wolfi marched across the border.

That evening they dined alone in a small hotel on the side of the Bodensee. After a dessert of coffee and delicious cream cakes, with Wolfi watching, she dialled Berta's number.

‘Berta? Berta? It's Lotte. I am at a hotel in Switzerland. Just over the border.'

‘Lotte! Lotte darling! Tell me the address and we will drive over and pick you up straight away. Have you got my special gift?'

‘No the others are travelling separately. I must wait here for them as arranged, darling Berta. Be patient! If all goes well we shall see each other tomorrow.'

‘Oh! All right, but make it soon, dear Lotte.' Berta was disappointed, but she knew it was the wisest course of action.

* * *

Having reached the summit of the rock face it was a further four hours of almost constant trudging until Peter and the others found themselves looking down upon a welcome sight. It was the shimmering surface of Bodensee. They were in the hills above Lauterach. Fortunately there had been no more climbing required and the crampons had not been used. From their position they had a clear view of the lake and the surrounding countryside.

Jürgen pointed into the distance towards the lake. ‘Just to the left of the large crag with the single tree on top is where you should cross the border. It will be dark soon. Make your way there as close as you dare and as quickly as possible. Wait until dark and then cross over where I have shown you.'

He bade farewell to Peter and Franz before bending down to speak to Hannah. ‘Look after my Lotte for me. And don't worry you will see her again soon.' He reached out to take Hannah's hand in his and as he did, she clasped her arms around his neck and kissed him. For the first time in years Lotte's father blushed.

Darkness fell quite early and just an hour after leaving Jürgen, Peter, Franz and Hannah were crouched behind a rock, looking towards the lake's edge. The little girl was perfectly still and silent. For her the game had continued.

In the distance some half a kilometre away the dim lights of a sentry's hut were visible. It was a cold night and so far the guards had shown little desire to leave the warmth of their shelter. Moonbeams reflected on the lake which lit their way forward.