The Luck of the Weissensteiners (The Three Nations Trilogy) (50 page)

“He is not a Jew and even if he were he would still be ten times more of a human being than you will ever be!” Evka shouted back.

“Not a Jew? How did he get into the camps then? Is he a communist? Well, take him to the Soviets then, they will be glad to have him!” the old woman said hatefully.

“I
f you were a communist, even then the Soviets would not take you,” Evka replied angrily.

“Stop it!” Greta told her friend. “She i
s not worth your anger. Leave her be.”

Evka agreed but it was hard to ignore the four women who never missed the slightest opportunity to nag and start a row. Far too often Evka got angry and replied, which in Greta's view was exactly what the four women had wanted. They needed a vent for their anger and had found in Evka a
willing victim that would fight back and give them a battling opponent.

Since every move annoyed the four mean spirited women on the floor
, the daily routine of the room revolved around a regime that minimised movement. The nurses volunteered to help in the camp health tent and were usually outside of the dorm all day, giving the rest of the inhabitants extra beds to stretch out a little, but the atmosphere was subdued and depressing.

After a few weeks of what Evka called 'The reign of evil' things took a
short change for the better, at least for some of Greta’s group. The nasty ringleader slipped on an icy patch outside and broke her hip. Unable to move by herself, she had to be transferred to a small hospital and care tent. The remaining 'three witches' felt suddenly much less confident and from then on kept quiet.

Evka used the situation and suggested to the guards that the extra space in their hut should be made available to someone
else. This was followed by an unpleasant row with the three women and the officers, and as a result, not only did the three witches have to move, Joschka had to move as well. His internment in a room full of women had been an oversight and the guards consequently moved him into a men's dormitory.  He felt a great deal of anxiety about having to leave his safe haven behind and only reluctantly packed his things and followed the soldier out of the hut. His new 'residence' however turned out to be a change for the better. A former training room had been converted into a floor full of mattresses and his allocated space was right next to a group of three middle aged Hungarians. From what he could understand of their conversations with each other, they had been Jazz musicians in Vienna and only just managed to get out of Austria before the Soviets arrived. On their route to France, they had been stopped at the border between the French and the American occupied sector and eventually found this displaced person’s camp.

The s
ole mission of these new neighbours was to find a way to practise and to rehearse. Initial attempts to do so in the camp had attracted a lot of complaints from mothers with children and some of the elderly who were infuriated by this 'negro noise', although many enjoyed the distraction. Now the search continued outside the camp but so far had proven fruitless. The band members were usually upbeat and cheerfully hummed melodies, many of which Joschka, being a fan of Jazz music, recognised. Within a day, he was talking to them and joined them on their excursions. Gyorgy, Ferenc and Zsigmond were delighted to have found someone who shared their passion and who was not wallowing in gloom and misery. Joschka had made it a habit to avoid speaking about his past in the death camp and was pleased that no questions were being asked. Zsigmond had once stared at the number on his arm but never said anything about it.

The trio was hoping to find
steady employment in a night club in Paris or, maybe, Berlin. They were less confident about getting visas to New York since none of them were Jewish, they said, and neither were they young and strong enough to be judged as useful for hard labour. Their chances of emigration were poor they figured, and so decided to get on their feet locally as quickly as possible. They could do with a manager, would Joschka know anything about negotiations and contracts?   

Evka was very excited for her 'husband' when he told her about the offer.

“That is perfect for you!” she exclaimed. “All that work as a lawyer's assistant must be really useful.”

“Well, it is quite a different kind of work really, but it might help,” Joschka replied.

“I can't wait to meet them and hear them play,” Evka said.

“You may be able to,” Joshka promised. “Zsigmond went to Frankfurt today. There are more entertainment venues in the big cities. Ferenc is ta
lking to the American army later today to see if they have any use for us for their parties. He wants me to come with him to assist in the negotiations. Something is bound to come of it.”

“I hope it goes well,
” Evka said.

“I am glad you are happy for me. I have been thinking about the future a lot since I met the trio. There may come a time when I have to go away with them, either to a big city or
, if we get lucky, being constantly on the move. That is what the life of musicians is all about. Would you be happy to let me go or see me as another leaving traitor?” Joschka sounded very concerned.

“You wouldn't be a traitor. If you have such an opportunit
y you must take it. Hopefully, Greta and I will settle down somewhere and then you can always come and visit your wife. Of course we will be happy for you,” she said cheerfully.

“My concern was for
Ernst,” Joschka admitted. “He will lose another person close to him.”

“I know. But he is young and he will learn how to cope,” Evka said quickly. “Gr
eta is a very attractive woman and she will find someone who can be a father figure to him. Much more important is whether or not you feel safe with the musicians. You know... the way you are. Will they mind?”

“Jazz musicians
have always had a more liberal approach to life. After the Great War when I was seeing Eugene, we usually went to Jazz clubs. The musicians I met there did not mind. They were glad there was less competition for the ladies,” he told her.

“Oh good.
I hope that it works out for you. I really do,” Evka said.

“How is the atmosphere in your hut since the new arrivals?” he asked.

“Still not very pleasant. Two Polish women came with three children. One of them is supposed to sleep with me in my bed but they have managed to sleep all together on the floor. They won't speak to anyone. We think they have been forced labourers because when we speak their heads often turn as if they can understand everything. They are too well fed to have been in a concentration camp and if they were refugees from Poland they would be further north. Their children are not allowed to play with the others in the room. It is very awkward.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Joschka,

“The real shame is that the nurses are likely to move out of the camp soon, they say they are needed in a hospital nearby and they had enough of living in the camp. If they work for the hospital, they are entitled to living room allocation; that means a proper room to themselves. We still can't move in our dorm, so I am not surprised they are considering it. It won't be long before it all becomes too much for Wilma. Greta keeps going to the Red Cross tent queuing to request information about her father and Egon but they are totally flooded with requests and pleas. I wonder if we will ever find out.”

“Maybe you should
find some work yourself,” Joshka suggested “We should all try and get out of here.”

Before Evka could turn these plans into reality however
, a solution to their predicament came from the nurses. They were leaving the camp to work at the local hospital in a few days’ time. The woman who had come to interview them had asked the nurses if they knew of any other qualified personnel here in the camp. Recruitment campaigns often proved futile because the desperation to start a normal life made many people lie about their abilities and work experience. It had proven far more successful to use recommendations from already chosen candidates, who would not suggest anyone lazy or useless if they would have to work together with them in the future.

Being aware of
Wilma’s fragile condition and the need to get her out of the claustrophobic environment, the nurses had tried to get positions for the two sisters and her friend as well. Greta was offered work as an assistant nurse in the hospital while Evka, Wilma and even little Ernst could help out in the hospital canteen and laundry. The work would be hard but there would be food and accommodation, at least slightly more comfortable than here. It was also a steady place for them to wait for further news of Jonah, Alma and Egon. Joschka could always visit his 'wife'.

“What do you think
?” Greta asked her friend Evka.

“We would be mad not to take this opportunity,” replied Evka immediately. “I am game for anything that brings us closer to normality. I am sick of living on charity, I want to earn my living and I want to get away from the people in here.”

“Others are your hell, Sartre said, and he was spot on,” Greta said philosophically.

“Very true,” Evka agreed. “When I worked i
n the factory, I was at the mercy of my superiors, the Germans told us what to do for six years; here in the camp the Germans hate me, the Czechs hate me and the Americans can’t wait to dissolve the camps so they can go home. I’ll never get back to Pilsen and I know I’ll never be welcome in Germany. At least we are moving forward, instead of waiting and crying over spilt milk. I'd pack my bag right now if you all decide to come along. All I want is for us to stay together.”

“Me too!” said Ernst. “I don't want anyone else to leave.”

“Yes, let's get out of here and move to the hospital!” Wilma agreed.

“You are right, Evka,”
said Greta after a little pause. “This is no life at all. But let's be clear about one thing: The world has not changed overnight, nor have the people. Outside we will meet the same types that we have met in here.”

“I know,” Evka said, “But let us take our chance and hope for the best. This is as good a place as any to start
anew. Who knows what the Allies are going to decide about the refugees next. Maybe they will send them all to Africa or Asia. It would be good if we could be the masters of our lives for a change.”

“So it is agreed? We leave?” asked Wilma full of excitement,

“Agreed,” said Greta.

They moved out of the camp two days later, into two small rooms that had been confiscated from a German family. Bravely
, they endured the resentment by the family. Ernst and the three women soon charmed their way into the family's heart. Their new life in a new country had begun.

Greta soon became a trained nurse, a profession she carried out until her retirement decades later. By alleviating pain in others she felt she could right the many wrongs that had happened. When she cared for a complete stranger she hoped that maybe somewhere another woman was doing the same good deed for her brother and father. Many who tried to learn the profession had to give up because they could not handle seeing all the pain and suffering in the hospital but to Greta, every little bit she could do to help mattered more than all the lost cases put together. With so many dying of hunger and dysentery, it was comforting to save some.

Her own life
had begun promisingly by falling in love with a man who she loved and with whom she had shared dreams and ideals, but now her sense of morals and duty ordered her to lead it selflessly for others. Her goal was to keep Wilma sane, get Ernst an education and a future, and learn about her father and her brother. She still longed to read books but there was little time for that and few books survived the war of bonfires and bombings. Patiently Greta went through day after day, doing what needed to be done without complaining. Only long after Ernst had started his own family and television had become the sole entertainment for the rest of the family did she start to read again. Entire evenings and weekends were spent with new and old favourites she borrowed from the local library. For a little while she befriended an invalid who worked there until some of his remarks aroused suspicions that he had been a willing participant in the war. From then on she only looked for books on days when he was not working there.

“There are so many widows and decent men in my church choir. Let me introduce you to some
of them,” said her daughter-in-law once.

“Leave me alone,” was Greta
’s curt response. “It is too late for me to start dating again and I am quite happy with the way things are. This is my time now. I don't want to become someone else's companion, I enjoy being free. I still have more than enough responsibilities. Thank you, but you would be better off doing your matchmaking for someone else.”

Many years after the war
, Greta finally received the news that Egon had been captured near Stalingrad and had died of pneumonia in a prisoner of war camp. There had been no official records from the Soviet administration but one of the survivors – who eventually was allowed to return to Germany – had taken Egon's coat and handed letters and documents that were stashed in one of the inside pockets to the Red Cross. As devastating as that news was to her, Greta was also relieved to at last know the truth. She never had the heart to tell her sister who had stopped mentioning their brother a long time ago. Better to let sleeping dogs lie.

The Red
Cross was able to provide information on the Countess. She had been shot by Czech guards right outside Pilsen as they had feared. Her body had been found and she had been identified immediately, but the name had not been added to the lists until a few years later.

Edith and Esther had successfully made it to Switzerland, where they
found their lawyer and were also able to retrieve their fortune as well as money that the Countess had deposited for them in a numbered account.

After two years in Paris they gave up waiting for her Highness and took a cruise liner to New York. Once their lawyer forwarded Greta's new address they wrote the occasional letters to their friends but they never
set foot on European soil again. In one of the letters, Edith admitted that she still felt guilty for abandoning the boys and for getting everyone into trouble with her old passport.

Luise and Freddie
's ship was one of the few that managed to get through the sea blockade and the young family started a new life in Haifa by the sea. Evka found out much later that the ship their friends had taken had made it safely to Israel but they never established contact with the Weissensteiners in Germany.

Wilma continued to be plagued by panic attacks and general anxiety for the rest of her life, but stayed off medication for most of it. The doctors saw many cases similar to hers after the war and were neither trained nor often in a position to do much about it. Some told their patients to just get on with it o
r to get over themselves; some suggested heavy medication, others recommended therapy.

With Evka by her side
, Wilma managed to continue her life without many major attacks. She proved to be a valuable and hardworking asset to the hospital canteen and even though most of her colleagues thought she was a little odd or mad, they respected her for her surprising physical strength and endurance. Only shortly before her retirement age did the nightmares and panic attacks increase again. It started with a visit to the cinema, where Evka and she often spent their Sunday afternoons. When the lights went out Wilma started to shake and whimper, kicked her feet so violently that she caused a panic in the surrounding people and the ushers took her outside immediately. Shortly after that incident she developed a fear of bridges and from then on had to enter the hospital from a different entrance to avoid crossing a little stream on the way she had used before. Any loud noises set her off, and Evka and Greta often found her in the laundry room in the basement of their apartment block, seeking 'shelter from the bombs', but with all the lights on. She annoyed her neighbours by accusing them of spying on her and made them uncomfortable with her obnoxious looks. Twice Greta had to collect her sister from the police station where Wilma had fled to, insisting that someone had followed her. She was unable to describe the person but she could swear she had seen him before. Greta had a hard time keeping her out of a lunatic asylum and had to call in favours from her hospital colleagues to keep it from happening. She knew that any internment would be the end for her claustrophobic sister.

Wilma
’s eccentric and unconventional mannerisms however made her a huge success with Ernst's children, and grandaunt Wilma was always a sought after child-minder and a popular baby sitter, something which she absolutely adored. After her forced early retirement from the hospital, this new role gave her a new lease of life and helped her to carry on despite her many fears. Then at the age of only sixty she silently died in her sleep of a haemorrhage.

Sudetengermans formed associations
in the new Federal Republic of Germany and organised a political lobby to regain ‘their homes’ in the lost territories, which were now part of Poland and Czechoslovakia. Mistaken for one of these unpopular activists and be-moaners of the past, Greta and her family were regularly subjected to unkind remarks and other minor acts of discrimination. They calmly endured all of it, but it made it hard for them to ever feel at home in the place that had reluctantly allowed them a 'fresh start'. After the many casual anti-Jewish remarks Greta had heard in the refugee camps she was not going to trade that new stigma for the old one. Gradually the communist countries changed their policies and set free thousands of deported and imprisoned Germans from Siberia and other regions, some of them born in exile. The Federal Republic controversially offered them a new home. Greta became very uncomfortable when she heard the same arguments that had been voiced when she had arrived after the war: “There is not enough space.”, “They don't even speak German!”, “Who is going to pay for all this?”

Greta was
disheartened over these all too familiar voices until one day the doorbell rang and a very old woman stood outside her door. The two women stared at one another in disbelief.

Not only had Alma survived
the war, she had lived to an old age and found her family. Over several long afternoons, Alma finally told Greta how her father Jonah had escaped both Germans and Russians and had died of natural causes on Johanna's new farm. Greta cried tears of both happiness and sadness at the news. Until the end her father had not lost his spirit to fight and even though he failed to complete his mission to find Egon, he had never given up. That Johanna had fallen on her feet and made a new life for herself with a new man was not a huge surprise to Greta. Maybe it was a little questionable how permanent this happiness would last in light of the communist revolution in Czechoslovakia after the war.

It was horrible to hear about Alma's bad luck and her futile attempt to assist her mentally unstable
Ukrainian friend Halyna. Alma had spent over ten years in a Gulag in Siberia and couldn't tell Greta how on earth she had survived that hell. She was very surprised when she was suddenly released. For years she was not allowed to travel. She finally got permission to relocate to the Ukraine but never managed to find her friend or hear anything about her. She convinced an embassy official in Kiev that she was an abducted German. Fragile, ill and useless to the Soviet Union as a worker, there was no resistance to her leaving for yet another camp in Bavaria, where her integration process into German society would begin. The social worker assigned to her case was delighted to find that Alma was able to produce names of potential sponsors, found Greta's address and put her on a train right away before Alma could change her mind or Greta could be contacted and refuse to take her on. Greta took Alma in until the old woman had a stroke a year later.

Greta was living
on her own when Alma arrived. For many years Evka had stayed with the two sisters, but had frequently travelled to meet her husband Joschka and his musician friends in concert in cities all over Europe. He had found a special friend in West Berlin with whom he shared a bachelor apartment in one of the more bohemian quarters of the city. Joschka was 'mugged' outside a bar that was known to have homosexual customers and died due to injuries he had acquired during the attack. Evka never quite recovered from this loss and days after Wilma died she took an overdose of sleeping tablets and followed her friend to the other side. She left a short note for Greta, which simply said:

'S
orry my dear but I really want to go home now. Don't be sad, because I am not. Thank you for everything.'

Ernst really did become an architect. When school started again he surprised
everyone with an almost genius-like intelligence. He skipped two years and admiration for his clever mind helped him find friends. For once, he was singled out for his achievements and not just his status as a refugee. The three women saved any money they could to help him during his time as a student and before he even finished his final exams he was hired by a construction firm where he had been an intern. He married a secretary who worked at the construction firm and had three children, all raised Catholic according to his new wife's wishes. He also developed a liking for Jazz music, influenced by Evka and Joschka, and learned to play the clarinet in his later life. When the Berlin wall came down, he decided to look for his father and found him still alive in a house just outside of East Berlin. Wilhelm Winkelmeier had survived the war in a comparatively danger free position in Norway. He had remarried and fathered two more sons, who had recently distanced themselves from their father after he had been exposed as a Stasi spy. Wilhelm’s brothers, Ludwig and Bernhard, had both fallen in battle and his parents had fallen victim to an air raid.

Ernst's
brother Karl had lost his job in a paint factory that had folded and was now working at a bookshop in West Berlin. Ernst and his father had little to discuss with each other apart from the exchange of these facts. Wilhelm offered no apologies or other sentiment regarding their family saga. Ernst, on the other hand, realised how uninvolved emotionally he himself was towards this strange old man. He should have known better than to expect any different. After all, Wilhelm could have tried to contact his son many times himself. Ernst realised with satisfaction that he still had the Weissensteiner optimism and naivety left inside of him after all.

When he met Karl over
lunch the two got on very well. They were both amazed and stunned by gestures and idiosyncrasies they shared with each other, despite never having met each other. Ernst offered Karl a job in his office, but the brother refused, saying he could not imagine leaving Berlin now. He wanted to see his mother, but he wondered if she would want to see him after all those years during which he had done nothing to contact her. Ernst told him there was nothing their mother wanted more than seeing her long lost son. The reunion took place two weeks later in Frankfurt, where Greta lay in hospital. She was losing her final battle with breast cancer. Already quite hazy from the morphine, she gathered all her strength to look him up and down. The resentment that Karl had feared was nowhere to be seen. She was full of joy and for that one afternoon managed to pull herself together. She listened to all his stories, about his life in war-torn Germany, in the GDR and his new family. Then her strength left her. She died a few days later a happy woman in the presence of both of her sons.