The Luck of the Weissensteiners (The Three Nations Trilogy) (34 page)

She had imagined the journey would
be much quicker and had secretly expected to be shaking hands with American soldiers by now and to be staying in luxurious guest houses on her way to Switzerland or Paris, depending on the movement of the liberating armies. To find that German and Austrian troops seemed to be able to withstand their enemies still so fiercely around some of the big cities and that the advance of the Red Army was so difficult to predict, all of this ate away at her sense of security.

All of her life she had felt protected in one way or another, now she was suddenly confronted with her own mortality and the clear and present danger of the approaching fronts. She had never given it any thought that they might die in enemy fire or be hit by a shell. The war and its atrocities had happened so far away from Bratislava that they
had never seemed real. In her silly optimism she had seen herself hiding in the barn of a farm while German troops were retreating and Americans in turn were progressing. A friendly American would shout into the barn for all people inside to come out, he would inspect their papers and congratulate them all on their new freedom, the ladies would thank them for liberating them and then the road would lead them to Paris in complete safety and peace. Crossing the line of fire was not so easy if you listened to the reports of those people whom they had met on the road.

According to these tales people were killed
completely by mistake. Not only the German soldiers but also German civilians had been known for shooting at deserters and refugees who were heading in the direction of the Allies. Enemy troops were suspicious of traps and snipers and they did not welcome or trust anyone coming towards them with a white flag either. She had tried to talk about her fears with Edith when they were alone on the coach but her tough companion did not want to hear her hysteric notions.

“It is a bit late to worry about it now, don't you think? You need to pull yourself together and stop dwelling on it!” was her
advice.

“I know bu
t I feel responsible for putting everyone in danger. Maybe we should have stayed in Bratislava in the manor house. If we are taking such a huge risk here we might as well have stayed and taken it there. It was me who persuaded everyone to make a move,” the Countess carried on.

“You were not the only one who wanted to get going and no one was forced to leave – well maybe apart from Jonah. But he can't complain. He got across the border safely thanks to your docu
ments,” she consoled her friend.

“You have been a fantastic friend and helper to all of us, you must never blame yourself i
f anything happens in the future. We are all taking chances here and no one could possibly predict what will be. We are all alive and if it was not for everything that you have done for us who knows if any of us would still be? Stop worrying and enjoy the scenery. Look, it is April and it is getting warmer, the flowers are coming out everywhere. If we are going to die here it is still better than in a labour camp or in the basement of your manor house.”

“Thanks Edith. You are being very generous in your view of me,” the Countess said. “Whatever I have done, it feels so little compared to what I should have done. My father and my husband always told me how lucky and privileged I am and that this role comes with an obligation towards the less fortunate. I feel a little guilty for the advantages I have enjo
yed in my life. I never had to work or sacrifice anything to be in such a lucky position. Life has been so very generous to me and I have managed to do so little for others in return. God, I tried, but those last years were so difficult, I feel I have failed too many people whom I probably could have helped.”

“Who are you talking about dear C
ountess? I hope it is not the ungrateful and disturbed painter Visser?” snipped Edith.

“Oh yes, him first and fore
most. I also should have taken more of my staff from Hungary with me. Many wanted to come but I was selfish and did not want to be pestered with too many responsibilities at the time,” the Countess confessed with tears in her eyes.

“What i
s done is done,” said Edith, trying to stop this wailing. “I am sure you would have taken all of them with if you had you known what history had in store for them. How could you have known? The politicians in Europe did not know, otherwise they would have been ready to crush Hitler in his infancy. Stop blaming yourself, you are starting to get boring.”

“Maybe I could have employed and saved more Jews
in Bratislava and in Hungary,” the Countess went on. “I should have tried to have more Jews exempted from deportation, hidden some more in my house. I have wasted so many opportunities to do good. I only saved a few because I loved their art. If I had been more careful I could have seen what was on Visser's mind and saved his life, prevented his suicide. Now you are all on the road with me so I would not have to travel on my own. You see now how selfish and horrible a person I am? You are all in danger because of me and my selfish pursuits.”

“Countess, these th
oughts are a credit to you and your good natured heart but none of this is going to help. Even if you have done good deeds for the wrong reasons, they were still good deeds. We are more than grateful for them. If you had done more, maybe your name would have come up on one of those lists and you would have been deported. Don't you see that all of this is mere speculation? What if this? What if that? You have done more than most, be happy with that. If you still feel this urge to make up for your past mistakes and neglects, I would advise you to pull yourself together and be strong for everyone’s sake. We are lucky that Wilma is doing so well. We rely on her good spirit. If you break down it will only worsen her recovery. Ernst is six years old, he understands more than he should and we need to be careful not to frighten him.”

“You are right my dear Edith. Thank you for making me
see sense. I am so glad we are friends.”

On the road to Brno
, Alma and Jonah made slow progress. The road was narrow and busy with coaches and cars so that pedestrians had to walk by the side the road. Alma had slipped in the mud once and sprained her ankle, which slowed her down and made it unlikely that they would reach Brno today or even tomorrow. They had a good 30km to go Jonah guessed. Alma suggested they try to get a lift from someone with a bit of space on their cart but Jonah pointed out to her that they had not seen anyone offering help their fellow refugees.

Every vehicle was
loaded to their full capacity and those who had space were usually in a hurry to get away and did not want to be slowed down by extra weight. They probably had left possessions behind so that they could gain speed.

Jonah and Alma had decided to keep to themselves anyway. The mood
amongst the crowd on the roads was fearful and subdued and they did not want to absorb any more of it than was absolutely necessary. Some of the people did have encouraging words for each other, helped each other with food and with travel advice but there were also many who were desperate to get away and who drove recklessly and shouted at anyone who seemed to be vaguely in their way. Among those rushing vehicles was an army truck which they had seen driving south to the border earlier. Now it was moving back north, accompanied with a lot of swearing and tooting of the horn.

The aggressive driver had over done it with the horn and a horse had gone mad ahead of the truck,
overturning the cart it had been pulling. The truck had to stop. Shouting at the poor owner, the soldiers pushed the belongings that were spread out on the road on to the field at the side of the road. Jonah recognised one of the soldiers as the old patrol officer from the border. It transpired that they had arrested the man who had hidden in the trunk and all the people who had helped him to hide. There were about ten prisoners on the truck.

“Get your shit o
ff the road,” shouted the crippled officer to the intimidated owner of the wild horse. “Don't just stand there watching us, get busy or we are going to take you with us, too, you lazy pig!”

Some people came to his aid but m
ost just tried to carry on their way. Jonah whispered to Alma that they better move away from the scene to avoid being recognised and questioned again. While the road was being cleared by soldiers and volunteers the officer paced up and down by the scene of the accident as fast as his cane allowed him to move. He was staring angrily at the refugees as well and started to shout at them now:

“You should all be ashamed of yourself, running away from the enemy. You should have stayed
behind and helped with fighting our enemies. You disgust me you stinky little rats. The Fuhrer doesn't need you. You can go to hell. We will win this war without you and you will live with your shame forever!”

Nobody replied to his ranting. Those who were sad to see the fall of Hitler's Reich were
indeed ashamed of themselves running for their lives; even the old and fragile ones who had no means of fighting. Those who were glad to see the end of the Nazi regime would have risked their life by speaking their mind.

“I thought that
’s what you would say,” the old soldier commented on the deadly silence that was encompassing the place. “None of you deserve to survive. Cowards!” he hissed.

By now the road had been cleared, mainly by soldiers recklessly throwing everything onto the side of the road. A few shards of glass were still right in the middle of the road but in the absence of a brush someone just put an old newspaper over it. The truck manoeuvred carefully around the broken glass and the limping soldier struggled to get back on. He lost his grip and fell on the floor, much to the amusement and silent satisfaction of his onlookers. Then he spotted Jonah and something in his mind clicked.

“Stop! We have got another passenger I think" he shouted to the driver and stormed towards his victim as quickly as he could.

“I don't remember letting you through at the border,” he said to Jonah and Alma. “What are you doing here then?”

“Your colleague let us go,” replied Alma.  “He said our papers were in order.”

“My colleague!
That little boy has not even learned to tell left from right. How could he have assessed your papers. That is laughable,” fumed the irate cripple. “We have a couple on the run here and I wonder why.”

“Please look at our papers again. I remember you saying that they seemed all right to you, too,” Jonah said
calmly, while almost fainting from fear.

“I don't remember anything like that!”

“Your exact words were that the stamp was the most difficult part to forge. Then you looked at it closely and let us go,” added Alma.

The soldier stopped for a split second as if he just now r
emembered the encounter, obviously wondering what to do next. He had drawn a lot of attention to himself and he might lose face now if he left the scene without an arrest but he also seemed to have lost his momentum in his attempt to uncover another runaway. His memory had clearly let him down and now that it had returned he could not just admit that he was wrong before. At that moment the driver of the truck used his horn and shouted to his colleague to get on the truck with or without his new prey.

“I'm coming!” was the reply and the soldier turned away and got on the truck.

When the truck was out of sight Alma suggested they take a different route to make sure they did not run into this maniac of a Nazi officer again.  They got off the main road and took a turn towards the west. By evening they came to a little lake where someone had made a fire and was grilling fish. Jonah and Alma tried to keep a distance from these strangers by changing direction but someone called to them in German and invited them to join the group. The two of them were so hungry that they could not resist and so they complied. Their host was an old man named Reinhard with his two teenage granddaughters, Lisbeth and Margot. They were from Vienna and like everyone else were trying to escape the Red Army.

Reinhard
’s hobby was fishing and this skill had paid off on their journey several times already. They had so many fish it would have been a waste not to share it they said, and they loved to have some company.

“You must have a dreadful time with that nose of yours my dear Joseph,” the old man said to Jonah. “I had a friend who committed suicide because of one of those. Eve
ryone thought of him as a Jew. A terrible thing to happen to someone.” 

“Yes I had my struggles with it, I must admit,” Jonah humoured him. “I alway
s took my passport with me wherever I went. Complete Arier Nachweis, Ahnenbuch, the lot. Not one drop of Jewish blood in my veins and still looking like one. Not even as much as a Spanish or Italian ancestor as far as we could trace it.”

“What
incredibly bad luck,” Reinhard said. “Do you mind if I have a look at your papers? I am sorry to be so forward.”

Jonah was shocked. T
his man who had seemed so nice turned out to be just another Nazi. He had not anticipated this from a civilian and found it hard to hide his feelings but his survival depended upon a good acting performance.

“Of course not.
I would do the same. You can't be too careful with those cheating Jews,” Jonah laughed and handed his papers to the old man. “I got beaten up twice on the street since Hitler took over the Protectorate but in the course of six years for someone with a face like me that is not really too bad. What do you think?”