Chocolate Cake With Hitler (6 page)

“She turned to Magda and said something to her in
French. Magda nodded, ‘
Oui, ma Mère
.’  

“I don’t know what I would have done without Grandpa Friedlander. He was such a gifted man. As well as Yiddish and German, he spoke fluent French. He turned to Magda, and explained to her something of what I had been trying to say. Of course, she didn’t know him at all and it was a shock for her to discover I had a husband.  

“We then set off on a tour of the school, guided by the Mother Superior. We were shown a series of
well-polished
classrooms. Magda held doors open and accompanied us politely, but she was as stiff as a stranger. The very last room we went to see was the dormitory. It turned out that all the girls slept in one large attic room. Rows and rows of beds. Magda’s was in the middle. No curtain around it, no privacy, not even a wall to lean against and no protection from the cold draughts blowing in from the badly fitting
windows
. There was no ceiling, just the high eaves. It was absolutely freezing.

“Grandpa Friedlander arranged for us to return the following weekend. Magda shook our hands and said ‘
Au revoir
.’ Her fingers felt cold and boney. We returned by train to our new, empty Brussels house. I cried and cried and cried.

“He was such a charming man, Grandpa Friedlander. He persuaded Grandpa Ritschel that Magda should move to a more comfortable convent. Grandpa Ritschel
even allowed us to choose her next school, so long as it was Catholic. Although my mother had brought me up as a strict Protestant, and Grandpa Friedlander was, of course, Jewish, we happily agreed, and we started to visit convents.

“We finally found one where the dormitory was divided into cabins that could be closed off with
curtains
. Each girl had her own chair and her own
wardrobe
. We quickly arranged for Magda to move to this new school.

“It was, of course, very strictly Catholic. There was a great emphasis on modesty. When the girls had their weekly bath, the nuns insisted that they bathe in long gowns that completely covered their bodies. Even as they got in and out of the tub, the nuns deftly dried them and slipped on their chemises without revealing any flesh. No girl was supposed to see her own naked body.

“Every day started with mass before breakfast. Magda was still very skinny, with no reserves of strength. One morning at mass she fainted. After that I was allowed to bring her chocolate and she would eat one tiny piece before mass, to help her get through the service.

“The Mother Superior of the new school was a great woman. She loved music and she appreciated your mother’s musical gift. Particularly her talent at the piano. She would take your mother to concerts and to museums and galleries. I think you could say your
mother was her favourite.

“Of course, that was a little difficult with the other girls. Magda never found it easy to make friends in Belgium. There was a lot of anti-German feeling, as we realised when war broke out.

“But for a few years we were happy. Grandpa Friedlander found good business opportunities. He opened a tobacconist’s. We were comfortable. Gradually your mother began to recall her German. Her
stepfather
helped with that, of course. And they became very close. He was more of a father to her than her real father. And it was her choice to take his name – Magda Friedlander.

“Then the war broke out – and everything changed. Your mother was now about twelve. We didn’t
understand
the significance at first. We heard about the
murder
in Sarajevo. It seemed so far away, nothing that could affect us. But suddenly we realised that Europe was divided. Germany declared war on Russia, and then on France – Belgium’s closest ally. Throughout Brussels, German shops were pelted with stones. All German civilians had to leave Belgium. We packed what we could carry. That was it.

“We were treated like animals. We went at first to the German consulate. There were so many of us – we were housed overnight in a circus tent. All kinds of people. We slept on the hard ground. Then the next morning we were marched to the station, by young Belgian
soldiers – schoolboys really – who gave us coffee and chocolate and cigarettes from their own supplies. That was the last kindness we saw. We were sent back to Germany in cattle trains. Filthy, stinking cattle trains. It was absolutely foul. No seats, no windows. We sat on our suitcases. At times it was impossible to stretch out properly. There were no lavatories, no food and no water – though we were able to buy basic
provisions
at stations, it was very expensive and other people on the train had no money and would beg us to share what little we had. It took us six days to reach Berlin. Of course, people got ill and sick – it was
disgusting
. Human beings should never be treated like that. One woman, not in our carriage, but one down from us, even had a baby on the train. I can still remember her screaming and the rattling of the train through the night.”

There is a story Mummy told me about this journey too. The train had stopped at a station when a Gypsy leapt aboard. She was as brown as a nut and as thin as a rake, with a great bundle of black hair escaping from a coin-fringed scarf. As soon as she entered the carriage, she fixed Mummy with her dark shining eyes. It was as if she could see right through to her soul, Mummy said. She grabbed Mummy’s left hand and studied her palm. She traced her finger over its lines, then dropping the hand, looked Mummy in the eye.

“One day you will be a Queen of Life, but your
ending
will be dreadful!”

She turned and leapt off the train, just as it began to pull out of the station.

Mummy always laughs when she tells that story.

Day Four in the Bunker

Wednesday 25 April, 1945

T
oday started off badly. I woke up again in the night, thighs prickling with sweat. Instantly alert. Distant voices I couldn’t make out. I shifted slowly so that my back was against the wall and at least I knew that nobody was going to come up behind me. I couldn’t feel Elsa. I watched the slit of light under the door, looking for shadows and listening out for footsteps. Suddenly there were three loud explosions and
everyone
woke up. We switched on the light for a second to see the time – it was nearly five. Then the guns started. They are definitely getting louder. Are we just going to sit here waiting for the Russians to come and kill us?

All the time we were eating our breakfast there were soldiers carrying boxes out of the bunker. Boxes of what, and where they were taking them, I’ve no idea. I am bored of damson jam. So many stones. After
breakfast 
I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do. Hilde is gripped by her Apache book, and she snuggled down with that – but I can’t get in the mood to read. I asked Mrs. Junge if I could go and see Mummy. She said she’d ask. I just doodled and sat in the corridor, and the young ones played hide-and-seek again. I get this
feeling
of a weight pressing on my chest which makes me want to run and scream, but the worse thing is I know that won’t make any difference. I covered a whole page in little black boxes and shaded them in. A waste of ink. I was about to embark on a second page when Mrs. Junge came and said that I could go and see Mummy.

Her room is like ours. Except the smell of diesel is mixed with the smell of cologne. It’s completely bare. It reminds me of visiting her in the sanatorium.

She was lying in bed, her skin the same off-white as the pillows. Her eyes looked enormous for some reason, her pupils huge and black. She patted the side of her bed and I sat down, but it’s so narrow that half of me was hanging off the bed. Her voice sounded flat.

“How are all you children?”

“We’re fine. It’s just so boring. How long are we going to be here?”

“I don’t know, my darling. We will stay here as long as Uncle Leader needs to be here. Now, I’ve heard that you have all been very good and polite and no trouble. I’m very proud of you.”

“How long is Uncle Leader going to stay here?”

 “I don’t know, darling.”  

“Are we going to try to escape?”  

“Now you know we’ve brought you here because it’s the safest place to be.”  

“What if the Russians get here?” I could feel a
massive
lump rising up in my throat and I just kept trying to swallow it, but I couldn’t keep it down. I tightened my eyes as hard as I could to keep my tears in. My
forehead
felt like there was a sheet of metal pressing against it. I did manage not to cry, but I knew Mummy could tell that I almost was, and then I said it. “I’m so scared, Mummy. I don’t want to die. I just really don’t want to die.”  

Mummy hates it when we cry, which is unfair because she and Granny are always crying.  

“Helga. Come on. Hold yourself together. You’re a big girl. You must be strong for the little ones. You must give them a good example. Think how they will feel if they see that their big sister has been crying. This is not a time for tears. Remember you are German.”

I concentrated and concentrated and breathed really slowly in and out of my mouth so that I didn’t have to sniff. My jaw ached.  

“Now, Helga, I am arranging for you all to have a vaccination. It’s the same kind that all the soldiers have and I think that you children need it to stop you
getting
ill now that you are living cooped up like soldiers and so close to so many people.”

I felt the shout inside me rising up but I swallowed it. I just said “Oh” in a small voice.

“I know you’ll be brave, like a good girl, and not make a fuss.”

I nodded. I couldn’t really speak because of the giant lump in my throat. It sounded like she thought we were going to be here for a long time.

“I’m sorry you feel so bored. You’d better run along now and have your lunch. I’m going to get up later to have tea with Uncle Leader, and I will teach you a new game of patience. Now go and eat a good lunch, and don’t let the others see you’re upset.”

Lunch was beef sandwiches. Holde carefully removed the meat and ate the bread and butter. Helmut ate her meat. I just couldn’t think of anything drearier in the whole world than beef sandwiches. The brownness of it all seemed unbearable. I never thought I’d miss
vegetables
– but it would be so nice to have something bright and fresh like peas or even carrots, something light and happy and not just chewy heavy dead cow and chewy heavy dead bread. Of course, I didn’t say anything. I ate it very slowly until I had a huge dry lump of meat in my cheek. When Mrs. Junge turned away to speak to a soldier I spat it into my napkin. I never want to eat beef again in my whole life. I’m going to be vegetarian like Uncle Leader.

After lunch we went for our rest. I got straight into my bunk and pulled the covers over my head and then
I couldn’t breathe. I made a little air gap, but kept my face hidden. I don’t know why I feel so tired when we’re not doing anything.

Liesl came to get us ready for tea. She redid my plaits and tied the bow at the back of my dress and gave me a little hug. I feel like a four-year-old in this outfit. Short sleeves that give my arms goose pimples, short white socks. All us girls matching. I can’t wait till I’m a grown-up and I can choose my own clothes. I’m going to have long, loose, swishy hair and high heels and a navy-blue, polka-dot skirt. After the war Mummy says I can be fitted for a bra. I almost need one now.

The others are still pretty chirpy. Helmut remains convinced that this is all great fun. Holde and Hedda and Heide were a bit quiet for the first day or so but now they are all excited about cake and puppies and they love Mrs. Junge and the teddies and they are pretty well fine. Sometimes they get really scared of the explosions, but then they seem to forget all about them. I wish I could talk to Hilde, but it’s almost like she’s not here. She hardly ever wants to play cards or board games, or do anything together. All she wants to do is read. She carries her on-the-go book everywhere, and as soon as she’s finished one she’s on to the next. And she does this really annoying thing with her cheeks. She sucks them in three times before she does anything – before she gets out of bed, takes off her nightie, puts on her pants, everything. She looks like a fish.

If this is such a safe place I’m sure Mr. Speer would have brought his children here instead of sending them into the mountains. And what about Edda Goering? She’d definitely be here. She has to have the best of everything. And Mr. Bormann hasn’t got his children here with him. Why is it just us?

Tea came and went again. Auntie Eva had her
painted
smile and her glittering diamonds. Uncle Adi had made less of an effort with his appearance. As soon as we got there, he asked Mrs. Junge to fetch the puppies. At first I thought he was talking to me because he said, in quite a gentle voice, “Child, bring in the dogs.” But she leapt up.

We all played with the puppies on the floor. Foxl snuggled his nose into my armpit. Uncle Adi didn’t ask any difficult questions about school or German history. He just talked about the dogs. He said he prefers dogs to people because you can always trust them, they never lie, they are always loyal and always obedient. He made Blondi do her schoolgirl trick again, but when he went to pat her on the head, he spilt his hot chocolate all over his lap. He immediately went purple red and started shouting furiously. Auntie Eva leapt over and started dabbing him with her inadequate little lace handkerchief, which made him even more furious. Mummy whispered fiercely, “Back to your room,
children
!” Mrs. Junge came with us. She told us he often calls his secretaries “child”, especially her because she’s
the youngest. I think she’s 25 – not young at all.

We fiddled about in the corridor for a bit and then Mummy came up and showed me the new patience. It’s quite good. You have a pile of thirteen cards you can’t look at and then you deal out four and – well, it’s difficult to explain, but basically you have to make suits. I played it quite a few times. I like the flicky sound of the cards as you turn them over in threes. It never worked out, but there’s a nice feeling of fresh hope every time you start a new deal.