On Desperate Ground (28 page)

 
The screech of tires reached inside the hospital and startled Elsa. She heard muffled sounds of car doors slamming and boots hitting the ground. SS security troops entered through the main doors in a rush. Shouts came from other directions as additional troops came through the side entrances. Elsa looked around, not understanding what was happening. Patients in wheelchairs were shoved aside as the torrent of troops continued to pour in. Several nurses and a doctor rushed out to see what was happening and were roughly pushed to the side and held against the wall.
 

SS officers entered. Elsa felt frozen in place, frightened and alone in a swirling sea of black uniforms. One of the faces approaching her seemed familiar. She recognized Hettstedt and felt a sick stab of fear. It was finally happening, what she had dreaded for years, so close to the end. They were coming for her.

“Search the building! Look everywhere for hiding places and any civilians!” Troops scurried off in every direction. Hettstedt turned to the officer commanding the SS detail. “Bring me
Herr
Doktor Kappelen and Sister Anneliese immediately.” He then turned with a deathly smile and bowed mockingly to Elsa.

“I see Fraulein Klein has been kind enough to greet us here. Take her!”

Two men grabbed her from behind, each roughly taking an arm.
 

“Don’t worry my dear, your boyfriend will be joining you soon. At Number 8
Prinz Albrecht Strasse.
We will have a little party there.”

As she was led outside, Elsa turned to see Hettstedt laughing at her. Even in her frightened and confused state, she could sense desperation and madness in the sound. She gave a little prayer of thanks that Dieter had left just before the raid, and then let herself get very, very scared.
 

They tied her hands tightly behind her back and put her in a truck. Two guards stayed with her. From the open-topped truck, she could see the hospital and hear the search as it proceeded floor to floor. There were shouts, screams and loud noises. Several windows were broken as chairs and other objects were thrown out in the searcher’s frenzy. Elsa watched in terror, thankful only in the knowledge that would find no hidden Jews today. Soon she could watch no more and hung her head and wept.

Boots stomped down the main steps and Elsa turned her head to look. What she saw made her gasp. Two SS men were dragging Doktor Kappelen by his arms down the steps, his limp feet bouncing behind him. Blood dripped from his face. When they got to the truck, they tied his hands and heaved his unconscious body up onto the floor at Elsa’s feet.
 

“You should be glad you came quietly, missy!” The two guards laughed and turned away from her. Two more guards came from the hospital with Sister Anneliese in tow. She held her head high, as if she came down the steps of her own accord. The guards were quiet this time, and actually helped her up onto the truck. One came up with her to tie her hands. She immediately knelt to examine Kappelen, when the guard restrained her.

“I’m sorry, Sister, it is not allowed. I must tie your hands.”

“Then do what you must, young man. Only you will have to live with your shame.” The guard tied her and sat her down next to Elsa. He avoided their eyes as they drove away from the hospital, towards Number 8
Prinz Albrecht Strasse
and the Gestapo cells in the basement.

The truck pulled into the back of the SS headquarters building. The two women were taken down from the truck and led inside. Kappelen was still unconscious as he was carried in. Elsa had a last glance at Sister Anneliese just before they were put into separate, small, cold, dark cells. Before Elsa could turn around, the heavy door slammed behind her and she was alone. More alone than she had ever been in her life. Dieter’s last words now seemed to mock her. How could he ever come back for her, to this place?

She had found the mattress and curled up on it. Perhaps she slept, but there was no way to know. Time passed, she could not tell how much, and the darkness was broken as a key turned in the lock and the door swung open. Elsa squinted against the sudden light.
 

“Hello, my dear, so glad you accepted our invitation.” Otto Hettstedt sounded triumphant and shrill as the same time. He stood in the doorway, feasting his eyes on Elsa. He enjoyed seeing her fear as she sat on the bed, looking up at him.
 

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I have what I want. The question is, how difficult will it be for you?”

“Please, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Shut up!” Hettstedt advanced on her and slapped her face, hard. “Do not lie to me, you Jew-loving bitch! You are a traitor to your race, and you are totally under my power now.” He stepped back, folded his hands behind his back, and allowed her to recover for a moment. He eased his tone a bit, to show his confidence.

“I know everything about your activities. I know about you and the Herr Doktor and the Sister. I know about the identity papers that you did not turn in. I know about the Jews you sent to Bavaria, and about all those you’ve probably given documents to since then.” He paused to let his words sink in, and to watch their effect.
 

“I’m surprised it took you so long.” Elsa tried to remain calm, but she could hear her voice waver.
 

“Oh, there will be many things here that will surprise such a young, delicate woman as yourself,” Hettstedt laughed. “Would it surprise you if I told you I also know about von Schierke and how Neukirk sheltered him after he tried to kill the Führer? I know enough about you and your boyfriend to put both your necks in the hangman’s noose.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why don’t you kill me and be done with it?”
 

Hettstedt leaned down and snarled in her face. “Because it’s not going to be that easy, my dear. I want more than just Neukirk. I want his commander, Colonel Faust. And you are going to help me get him.”

“How? I hardly know the man. Dieter tells me nothing of his work, nothing!”

“How?” Hettstedt laughed hysterically again. “Let me show you how. Come with me.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her out into the corridor, down three cells to the right. There were dull thudding sounds coming from inside. Hettstedt gestured to a guard to open the door.
 

“I saw the guards treating the Sister kindly at the hospital. Many of these men have no experience dealing with traitors to the State from within the church. My men have much experience, and no such qualms about applying National Socialist justice to enemies of the State. See what awaits you, my dear, if you do not cooperate with me.” He led her by the arm to the open door.

Sister Anneliese was on the floor, a pool of blood around her face. Two plainclothes Gestapo agents stood over her. They had halted their activities when the door opened. At a nod from Hettstedt, they resumed. Vigorous kicks began to hit Sister Anneliese in the back and head. She curled up more, protecting herself instinctively and crying out in pain at each cruel kick.

“NO! STOP! I’ll do whatever you want…don’t hurt her anymore, please.” Elsa ran towards the crumpled figure on the floor, only to have one of the agents push her back roughly into the corridor. Hettstedt took her arm again and brought her back to her cell.
 

“I will be picking up Neukirk tomorrow. Once he is in custody, you will both sign confessions naming Johann Faust as your accomplice in assisting fugitive Jews and other enemies of the State.”

“Will you stop torturing Sister Anneliese?”

“It has already stopped. She will have medical assistance, and nothing else will happen to her, unless you fail to cooperate.”

Elsa felt miserable. She had often wondered how she would stand up to Gestapo beatings. She never thought it would be someone else’s misery that would instantly, thoroughly and totally destroy her resistance. She couldn’t bear to think of what more they would do to the Sister and what they would do to Dieter if she didn’t cooperate.

“I will do whatever you ask.”

 
Hettstedt smiled back at her. “Yes, you will. You certainly will, my dear. He turned and closed the door behind him. Elsa sat on the mattress and held her head in her hands. She could not even cry. She was stunned by the violence she had seen and by the destruction of everything she held dear. In the darkness she felt as if she were in a black abyss at the end of her life, and even if she were to walk out of the cell, the darkness would never end.
 

Hettstedt walked down the corridor, highly agitated. He knew he had made a critical mistake with the old Portuguese diplomat. He had only a short amount of time to rectify that error. If he gave Himmler and Fegelin everything they wanted, they would surely overlook one old man’s death. Everything included Johann Faust, and he intended to have him.

He passed Sister Anneliese’s cell. The Gestapo men stepped out and one asked him, “What about her?” He pointed with his thumb at the form inside the cell. She was moaning softly on the floor, trying to lift herself up.
 

“Leave her. I no longer need her.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

12 April 1945

Foreign Ministry

Berlin, Germany

Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop stood at the full-length window overlooking the
Wilhelm Strasse
and surveyed the destruction of the Reich’s capital city. He was dressed in a formal diplomat’s frock coat and old-fashioned starched collar. This was his usual form of dress, unless he donned the theatrical Nazi uniforms he had designed for the Foreign Service which were regarded as ludicrous by the career civil servants in that department. Von Ribbentrop looked every part the distinguished aristocrat and played the role to the hilt. He was actually nothing of the sort. A former champagne salesman before the rise of the Nazi party, he had added the ‘von’ to his name to disguise his humble origins.
 

A favorite of Hitler, von Ribbentrop’s position in the Nazi government had nevertheless declined during the war years. The short-lived Russian-German pact of 1939 had been his high-water mark. After the invasion of the Soviet Union, there was little need for diplomatic initiatives and his role became more one of a functionary. This caused von Ribbentrop to guard his remaining prerogatives very carefully, and was why he had called SS
Brigadeführer
Hermann Fegelin to his office today. He gazed out the window and caught sight of his own reflection, sighing at the sight of large dark bags under his eyes. He shook his head disapprovingly at his own image.
 

Turning away from the window to escape the ruined city and reflection, he sat at his desk and pressed the intercom button. “Send him in now.” He picked up a pen and began writing furiously in a file of papers.

“The Foreign Minister can see you now,” the secretary announced to Fegelin, as if she was doing him a great favor. He got up from where he had been waiting impatiently and entered von Ribbentrop’s office. He did not know the nature of the meeting, only that it was an urgent matter relating to the SS, which was his concern, and foreign relations, which was von Ribbentrop’s.

 
“Ah, Fegelin, one moment please.” Von Ribbentrop continued to write, without looking up or offering a chair. Fegelin, vaguely irritated but curious about the purpose of the meeting, simply sat in the chair opposite von Ribbentrop and waited. He crossed his legs casually and tried to appear bored.

Finally, von Ribbentrop laid down his pen and closed the file. He clasped his hands in front of him looked sternly at Fegelin, who asked, “What exactly is the purpose of this meeting?”

Von Ribbentrop ignored the direct question and replied in a lecturing tone, as if Fegelin were a rather dim-witted student.

“I am sure you realize the importance of our relations with neutral powers in these critical days for the Reich, Fegelin. I am working day and night to insure that we have the good offices of several neutral powers available to us for potential negotiations. The Japanese ambassador has been assisting us in working with the Swedes on an approach to the Soviet Union to discuss an armistice.”

Fegelin had heard of this futile attempt to contact the Russians and arrange a separate peace that would allow the Germans to hold off the Americans and British in the west. He also knew that just days ago Hitler had absolutely forbidden von Ribbentrop to go any further with his plan.

“Yes, yes,” he replied hurriedly, “I know all about it. Do you wish me to bring it up again to the
Führer
for you?”
 

Von Ribbentrop stood up suddenly, anger clouding his face. “We will be talking to the
Führer
, yes, but not about that! We shall talk about how your men, acting on your direct orders, have assaulted and murdered a neutral diplomat! Now when we need good relations with neutrals the most, you have destroyed all my work!”
 

“Whatever are you talking about?” Fegelin was shaken. The displeasure of the
Führer
was intensely frightening to all those in his inner circle, who routinely maneuvered to gain greater favor at the expense of anyone else who showed weakness.