The Ring (24 page)

Can we go to your schloss?

He looked amused at the matter-of-fact look in her eyes.

If I have it back by then. Would you like that?

She nodded at him. Very much.

Good. Then we'll go there as well. It was becoming something of a game, as though they could hasten the end of the war and the beginning of their own life by just wishing the nightmare away and talking of what they would do after.

But the next morning, as she had promised before he went to work, she gathered the things he wanted her to keep in order the gun, her mother's rings hidden in their hiding place, some food, some money, the address of his French friend and she went outside to check that the Volkswagen had a full tank of gas. When she went outside, in the distance but not very distant she could hear the roar of guns. That afternoon bombs were dropped farther into the city. Manfred came home early. As usual during air raids, she was waiting in the cellar with a radio and a book.

What happened? It said on the radio

Never mind what it said on the radio. You're ready, Ariana?

She nodded, terrified. Yes.

I have to go to the Reichstag tonight. They want every available man to defend the building. I don't know how soon I'll be back. You have to be a big girl now. Wait here, but if they take the city, remember all I've told you.

How will I get out if they take the city?

You will. They'll let refugees out, especially women and children. They always do.

And you?

I'll find you when it's over. But then, glancing at his watch, he went upstairs to look for some of his own things, and then he came downstairs again slowly. I have to go. They clung to each other silently for an endless moment, and Ariana wanted to beg him not to leave. To hell with Hitler, with the army, with the Reichstag, with all of it. She only wanted him there with her, where they would both be safe.

Manfred' From the panic in her voice he knew what was coming. He silenced her with a long tender kiss and shook his head.

Don't say it, my darling. I have to go now, but I'll be back soon.

There were tears streaming from her eyes as she walked upstairs with him and stood beside the Mercedes. He turned and wiped her cheeks gently with his hand. Don't cry, my darling, I'll be fine. I promise.

She threw her arms around his neck then. If something happened to you, Manfred, I would die.

Nothing will happen, I promise. And then, smiling at her through his own pain, he slipped his signet ring from his finger and put it in the palm of her hand, closing his fingers around hers. Take care of that for me until I get back. She smiled softly at him, and they kissed for a long time before he backed out of the driveway, waved, and drove back to the Reichstag in Berlin.

Day after day she heard the reports on the radio, of battles being waged in every corner of Berlin. By the night of April the twenty-sixth, she knew that every sector had been affected, Grunewald as well as Wannsee. She herself had not left her cellar in days. She had heard the shots and explosions around her and hadn't dared emerge to the main floor. She knew that the Russians were advancing along the Schonhouserallee up to the Stargarderstrasse, but what she did not know was that everywhere in Berlin people like her were blocked in their cellars, most of them without food, water, or air. There had been no plans made for an evacuation. Even the children were condemned to the same fate as their parents, trapped like rats, waiting for it all to end. And what none of them knew was that the High Command had already fled Berlin.

On the night of May first Hitler's death was announced on the radio, which the populace listened to in somber stupefaction as they waited in their black holes, in basements, trapped beneath buildings, as the battle raged and the city burned. The Allies stepped up their fire to a terrific degree. After Hitler's death was announced the sound of Wagner and Bruckner's Seventh Symphony wafted on the radio into the cellar where Ariana hid. It seemed an odd note as she listened to the gunfire and explosions in the distance, remembering the last time she had heard that symphony, with Gerhard and her father, at the Opera House years before. And now she sat, waiting for it all to end, wondering where Manfred was in the holocaust that was Berlin. Later that night she learned that the entire Goebbels family had committed suicide as well, poisoning all six children.

On May second she heard the news of the cease-fire given in three languages on the radio. She did not understand it in Russian, and it seemed unreal to her in German, but when an American voice came over the radio, telling her in halting German that it was all over, at last she understood. But still it made no sense to her she could still hear guns exploding in the distance, and around her in Wannsee she could hear the battle raging on. The skies were still now; the battle was being waged on foot, as looters attacked the houses around her, although in the heart of the city, the Berliners had left their homes. But in Wannsee, for three more days it continued, and then there was an eerie silence as everything seemed to stop. For the first time in weeks there was no sound at all, except an occasional shout, and then again silence. Ariana sat, waiting, listening, alone in the house, as the sun dawned in the eerie stillness of May fifth.

As soon as it was daylight, she decided to search for Manfred. If the Allies had taken the city, she had to know where he was. He no longer had to defend the Reichstag there was no longer a Reich to defend.

For the first time in days she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and put on one of the warm, ugly skirts, wool stockings, and her old solid shoes. She pulled on a sweater and grabbed a jacket, shoving Manfred's gun deep into her pocket and concealing it with a glove. She would make no other preparations. She was only going to find Manfred, and if she could not find him, she would come back to the house and wait. A few moments later, outside for the first time in what seemed years, she took a deep gulp of air and was suddenly aware of the acrid smell of smoke. She slipped into her little Volkswagen unseen, turned the ignition, floored the gas.

It took her only twenty minutes to reach the heart of the city, and when she did, she gasped at what she saw. The streets were strewn with debris and rubble, there was no way to get through. At first glance it looked as though there was nothing left. Closer inspection showed that there were still some buildings standing, but none had gone unmarked by the battle that had raged for days. Ariana sat staring with disbelief at what lay around her, and finally she realized how hopeless it would be to try to drive through the mess. Backing her car away slowly, she pulled it into a back alley and as best she could, pulled it out of sight She pocketed the keys, felt the gun still in its hiding place, pulled her scarf tighter, and got out of the car. All she knew was that she had to find Manfred.

But all she saw as she wandered in the direction of the Reichstag were droves of British and American soldiers hurrying past, and here and there an island of curious Berliners, staring at them from doorways or hurrying away to leave the city as they wondered what would come now. And it was only much later, as she came closer to the Reichstag, that she saw men in German uniforms, huddled together, filthy, exhausted, waiting for buses to come and take them away as Americans stood guarding them, machine guns pointed, but looking equally filthy and tired. As Ariana watched them and stumbled over the torn sidewalks, she realized to her very soul just how tough a fight it had been. So this was what had happened to her country, this is what the Nazis had brought them in the end. Over five thousand soldiers had attempted to defend the Reichstag and half of them had died. As she stood, not knowing where to turn, a second group of men in German uniforms passed by. Ariana gasped when she recognized Hildebrand, one eye bruised and swollen, his head bleeding through a bandage, his uniform torn, and a vacant look in his eyes. She waved frantically to catch his attention and ran toward him. Surely he would know where Manfred was. She was instantly stopped by two Americans with guns crossed to block her. She pleaded with them in German. But it was obvious that they would not be moved. She shouted at Hildebrand, urgently calling his name until he turned.

Where is Manfred? ' Hildebrand ' Hildebrand ' Hildebrand! ' Where is- His eyes darted to the left and when she followed his gaze, she was overcome by the sight. A stack of broken bodies waiting for trucks to haul them away. The uniforms were besmirched beyond recognition, the faces clenched in the rictus of death. She walked slowly toward them, and then, as though she were meant to find him, she saw the familiar face almost at once.

Her heart knew before her mind, and then she stood, rooted, disbelieving, her mouth open, giving birth to a scream that would not come. Even the American soldier couldn't make her leave him. She knelt beside him and wiped the dirt from his face.

She lay there beside him for almost an hour, until suddenly, terrified, she understood what it meant now, and with a last kiss on the sleeping eyes, she touched his face and ran away. She ran as hard and as fast as she could toward the alley where she had left the funny little car. And when she reached it, she found that two men were already working it over, trying to start it without the key. With eyes narrowed and voice trembling, she pulled out the small gun, pointing it at her fellow Berliners until they stood back with hands raised. Quietly she slid into her car then, locked the doors, still holding the gun pointed at them with one hand, and with the other she started the car. And then, pushing the car as hard as it was willing, she shot into reverse out of the alley and drove away.

She had nothing to lose now ' nothing for which to live ' and as she drove along, she could see the looters, other Germans, some soldiers some even were Russians. Her city was about to be dragged over the coals again. And if they killed her, so be it, she didn't really care now. It didn't matter if they killed her or not. But she had promised Manfred she would try to get to safety. And because of that, she would try to get out.

She drove as quickly as she could back to Wannsee, put the few things she had ready into the car. Some cooked potatoes, some bread, a little bit of stew meat. And then she took the package with the money, the address of the Frenchman, and the book concealing the two rings. Her engagement ring from Manfred she left on her finger let someone dare to try and take it from her along with her gold band and his signet. She would have killed them before they'd gotten the rings off her. Her eyes hard, her mouth set, she set the gun in her lap and once more started the car; and then, with a last look over her shoulder, she glanced at the house where Manfred had first brought her, and great anguished sobs tore at her heart. He was gone now, the man who had saved her ' gone forever. At the pain of that realization, Ariana thought she would die. She had slipped among her papers the only letter he'd ever written her, a love letter filled with tenderness and promise that he had written after the first time they'd made love. And she had also brought with her some pictures of them at their first party together at the Opera House, some more from the ball at the Royal Palace, a few others from the Tiergarten, and even those of his children and his dead wife. Ariana would not leave those pictures for anyone else's eyes. They were hers, as would be Manfred, for the rest of her life.

Along with thousands of others fleeing on foot, riding bicycles, and now and then in cars Ariana left the city and headed west. The Allies didn't try to stop the women and children and old people who were leaving the city like frightened rats. Ariana couldn't bear the agony of what she was seeing, and again and again she stopped to give someone a hand, until she knew that she could stop no more. Each time she did, there were attempts to take the car from her, and only at the last did she agree to give two old women a ride. They were silent and grateful, they lived in Dahlem, and all they wanted was to get out of town. Their store on the Kurf++rstendamm had been destroyed earlier that morning, their husbands were dead, and now they were afraid for their lives.

The Americans will kill us all, fr+nulein, the older of the two women told her, crying. Ariana didn't think so, but she was too tired to argue with either of them. She was too anguished even to talk. But she knew that if the Americans truly wanted to kill them, they had plenty of opportunity, as the refugees thronged the roads. Driving along beside them was also slow going for Ariana, but at last she was able to reach some familiar back roads. And in the end she managed to get as far as Kassel, some two hundred miles from Berlin, where she finally ran out of gas.

She had long since dropped off her passengers in Kalbe, where they had cousins and had been received with open arms and tears. As Ariana watched them, she felt a pang of envy. Unlike these old women, she had no one now. And after she had left them, she had driven on mindlessly until the car came to a slow, grinding halt. The jerry can in the backseat was empty. She had come halfway from Berlin to Saarbr++cken, the town north of Strasbourg where Manfred had wanted her to try to cross into France. But she had another two hundred miles until she reached it. She sat there for a moment thinking of the sea of refugees swarming out of Berlin, She was just another face among them now, shuffling toward nowhere, with no friends and no possessions, and nowhere to go. Fighting back tears as she looked over her shoulder at the lost safety of the little gray car, she tightened her grip on her bundles and began the long walk toward France.

It took her two days to walk the forty miles to Marburg, and from there an old country doctor let her drive with him to Mainz. They made little conversation as they rode along for three hours. The trip covered some eighty miles, and when they reached Mainz, he looked at her sympathetically and offered to take her to Neunkirchen it was on his way after all Gratefully she accepted, her mind still whirling from the night before.

In Neunkirchen, Ariana thanked him, staring at him blindly and somehow wanting to say more, but in the endless hours that she had driven and then walked and then finally ridden beside him, something deep inside her had frozen into place, a sense of loss, of broken hope, of deep despair. She was no longer even sure of why she was running, except that Manfred had told her to and she was his wife. He had told her to go to Paris, so she would. Maybe the friend in Paris would have the answers; perhaps he'd tell her that what she had seen in the dawn three days before had been a lie. Perhaps Manfred would be there in Paris, waiting for her to arrive.