The first thing Claus did was ask to see his son. Although Erich was sleeping he insisted on waking him. I thought men weren’t supposed to like babies. Claus held him in his arms and was so proud when Erich pushed his feet down as though he were trying to stand. He insisted he was a prodigy.
It was no use my telling him the doctor and Minna maintain all babies do the same. After he played with the baby for a short while, he asked me to accompany him to the bedroom to talk to him while he bathed and changed into his dress uniform. I knew what he wanted. It made no difference that I was already dressed. He simply bent me, face down over the bed, lifted my skirt and pulled down my underclothes.
Perhaps I really am becoming a woman, because the thought of what was about to happen was worse than the reality. It was still painful and humiliating, a bit like the doctor’s examinations when I was pregnant, but I have learned to concentrate on other things, and nothing lasts for ever. Not even that.
The rest of the evening was wonderful. The opera was superb; it made me realize how much I have missed good music. Claus’s fellow officers were charming, the meal at the restaurant excellent; the sauces were made with real cream and butter, and the meat and gateaux were perfect. I don’t think I have ever danced so much. Every single one of Claus’s fellow officers asked me to honour them. But as the evening drew to a close I began to dread going back to the hotel.
I scarcely slept during the two weeks; Claus wouldn’t leave me alone. He wants me to have another child as soon as possible. I told him that the doctor warned me against another pregnancy until I have fully recovered from the last, but Claus insisted childbirth and pregnancy is the natural state for a woman, and if my doctor can’t look after me, I should move to Paris where he will find me a better one.
He wanted to rent a villa outside the city, somewhere not too far away, where he could visit Erich and me, and occasionally stay overnight. If I hadn’t had Grunwaldsee to manage I think he would have ordered me to remain with him.
I am glad to be on my way home. I have no idea when I will see Claus again, but I do hope it won’t be before Christmas. Someday the war will be over and we will have to live together. I am looking forward to the end of the war but I am not looking forward to living every day with Claus. Married life is just about bearable for two weeks. It will be insufferable when it is for ever.
‘That was a good dinner.’ Laura pushed her coffee cup aside and picked up her brandy. ‘What would you like to do tomorrow?’
‘I’ve already said that I want to go to Grunwaldsee,’ Charlotte answered.
‘We don’t have to. I’ve been looking at the guide books. There are a lot of sights within easy driving distance of Olsztyn. The castle at Malbork, Hitler’s Wolfschanze, or we could tour the Masurian lakes.’
‘I came here to see my old home. Don’t you think I’ve put it off quite long enough?’ Charlotte asked.
‘We’ll go then, but only if you’re absolutely sure that it won’t be too much for you.’
‘I’ll try not to cry this time.’
‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ Laura said quickly.
‘I know you didn’t, darling.’
‘I hate to see you upset.’
‘I was a fool to ask you to stop off at Bergensee on the way here and a bigger fool to expect it to be unchanged. Communist Poland had higher priorities than the upkeep of old mansions.’
‘We could ask someone about Grunwaldsee before we go there,’ Laura suggested again.
Charlotte shook her head. ‘All I need before I see it is a good night’s sleep. Do you mind if I leave you to your own devices again?’
‘To be honest, at the moment there’s nothing I’d like better than to curl up in bed with a good book and half the contents of the minibar.’
‘A bottle of brandy would be better. Mixing leads to headaches.’
‘Are you advising me to get drunk?’ Laura smiled.
‘A little merry, maybe. You deserve a celebration after finishing your film.’ Charlotte left her seat. ‘See you in the morning.’
Laura finished her brandy and walked into the foyer. Sandwiched between the inevitable amber jewellery shop and an over-priced ladies’ fashion outlet was a small booth that sold Polish and foreign newspapers, and a few books. The English language selection was limited to the half-a-dozen of the top bestsellers from the last ten years. Recognizing the jacket of
One Last Summer
, and deciding it was as good a time as any to pick up the book again, she took it to the cash register. She was only sorry the next morning when she realized she’d fallen asleep over the first page.
MONDAY, 30 JUNE 1941
Now I understand why Claus, Paul and Wilhelm were given three weeks’ leave at the beginning of the month. Eight days ago our troops invaded Russia, and we believe all three were among the advance guard.
It has been a hard year. The War Office plagues us constantly, wanting more and more produce that we cannot give them. Last time their officials paid us a visit they took a dozen horses. They insisted they were for transport, but Brunon and I are convinced they went for horse meat. I saw one of the officers looking at Elise. I told him he would take her over my dead body.
I have no idea how they think we are going to replace the cattle and pigs they have taken. Our breeding stock has been halved since the beginning of the war, food rations have been cut to the bare minimum and there is talk of reducing them again. Our ‘friends’ in Allenstein don’t help. People we hardly know visit us, offering money and goods for food we don’t have. When I try to explain that we don’t have enough left to feed ourselves after supplying the army quota, they accuse us of living off the fat of the land while everyone else starves.
It is the same with Mama von Letteberg at Bergensee. Because the farms pay rent to the Bergensee estate, everyone assumes they pay in food. Even Irena’s father gives away most of the eggs the chickens lay in his back yard. As he says, everywhere you look there are children with big eyes and empty stomachs.
Irena and Wilhelm spent his leave in the summerhouse by the lake with their little girl, Marianna, who was born last September. They named her after Mama in the hope it would please her, but poor Mama is worse than ever. Most of the time she doesn’t even remember that Papa is dead. Martha, Minna, Irena and I do what we can, but she often refuses to leave her room for days at a time. When we managed to persuade her to come down to dine with Paul, Wilhelm and Claus the evening they arrived, she began crying, then picked up a knife and pointed it at her chest. We are terrified she will injure herself.
Having Claus home for three weeks was a terrible strain. He spent most of the time working on the farm and playing with Erich. I have come to the conclusion that marriage is simply a question of getting through the nights as best I can. In the day it is not so bad when there are other people around.
We spent three nights at Bergensee. His mother gave a dinner party in his honour, and his father also managed to get a few days’ leave. Greta came back to see Paul and Wilhelm. I think there is something going on between Paul and Brunon’s daughter, Maria. I saw them coming out of the barn together late at night and both of them were covered with straw. He spends most of his days riding with her. I do hope it isn’t serious. It wouldn’t do for a von Datski to marry a steward’s daughter.
Since Wilhelm, Paul and Claus have left, we live day by day, putting all our strength into running Grunwaldsee, waiting and praying for the war to end. And when it does? Claus has already said he will continue with his army career. Wilhelm has decided to finish his studies and set up a law practice in Königsberg. Irena would be happy anywhere as long as it’s with him. She moved into Grunwaldsee after they married, stayed for Marianna’s birth and hasn’t left since. I think she finds it comforting to sleep in Wilhelm’s bed even when he isn’t in it, and I am very glad of her company.
I can talk to her about anything except my married life because she assumes that I am as happy with Claus as she is with Wilhelm. I cannot disillusion her. It would make her unhappy and I can’t bear the thought of upsetting her, especially when she is so kind to me and more of a sister than Greta ever was or could be. Only Paul hasn’t made up his mind what he will do after the war. I do hope he will take over the management of Grunwaldsee. I am so tired, yet at the moment I cannot imagine living any other life.
If Claus does remain in the army he could be stationed in Paris, or Russia. He didn’t say whether he would want me to join him, and I didn’t ask. Sometimes I think he only married me to bear his sons. He is disappointed that Erich is still an only child. I wish it were possible to get babies some other way. After Paris I thought I would become accustomed to married life; after three weeks with Claus I know I never will. Even Paul noticed the contrast between me and Irena. She cannot bear to be parted from Wilhelm for a moment. I am always looking for excuses to get away from Claus.
I have just read the beginning of this diary again. So much has happened since then. Herr Schumacher visited this morning. High Command has asked him to organize a concert party to entertain the troops in Poland. He wants me to join them for two weeks. The troops have so few pleasures. Should I go? It would be difficult to leave Erich and Mama, although Irena, Minna, Martha and Brunon insist they can manage without me. Perhaps I should. I will think about it.
THURSDAY, 13 NOVEMBER 1941
I am so angry and ashamed. Yesterday Irena and I drove into town to do some Christmas shopping, although we knew there would be very little in the stores. We went to the confectioner’s. It is rare to see sweets of any kind these days. The army takes so much food. Sugar, butter, cream and almonds are almost impossible to find unless you know a farmer who dares risk prison by hoarding extra. In the end, my pleadings touched Herr Meyer’s conscience; after all, we were among his best customers before the war. He gave us a small box of truffles, but he warned us that they weren’t up to his usual standard because of the poor quality of the ingredients.
After we left his shop, Brunon drove us to Irena’s parents’ house. Herr Adolf bought a huge plot of land from the Jews in 1934 on which he built his house and the workshops he needed for his building business. The Jewish cemetery and synagogue adjoin his yard. I can’t remember when I last saw the synagogue open. Like most people, I avoid thinking and talking about the Jews. The slightest mention of them seems to bring out the worse in some people, especially young boys.
Papa insisted they weren’t all bad; although he wouldn’t go as far as old Uncle Ernst, who used to invite every Jew he could find to stay in his house to annoy the authorities. It is a blessing Uncle Ernst died in 1938. If he hadn’t, he would have succeeded in getting the entire family into serious trouble.
Papa told me that he was as sorry as I was when Ruth and Emilia and my Jewish friends were expelled from school in 1935 along with all the other Jews who were no longer allowed to study. They were good friends, and Papa never minded me visiting them or inviting them to Grunwaldsee, but I hadn’t heard from either of them since my seventeenth birthday and Papa warned me that it wouldn’t be wise to invite them to the ball for my eighteenth birthday.
Since all the Jewish businesses in the town have been taken over by Germans I haven’t seen any Jews on the streets. I assumed that they were trying to keep out of trouble. There has been talk of resettling them in Africa or Madagascar, or giving them their own homeland in the East. I wasn’t sure if Ruth and Emilia’s families had already left, but today I saw them for the first time in over three years.
Brunon had to stop the car when we turned into Irena’s street because the road was blocked by a convoy of trucks parked outside the synagogue. SS officers and soldiers were milling about, Georg amongst them. Trust Georg to join a new regiment with such an awful reputation. He was strutting about in his boots and field grey uniform like a bantam cock pretending to be a rooster.
The soldiers were driving crowds of young children and girls out of the synagogue. There were so many I couldn’t imagine how they had all crammed in there. It isn’t a large building. Most were beautiful with blond hair and blue eyes, nothing like the ugly, horrible old Jews on the posters. Some of the older girls were carrying babies, and then I saw that Georg was pointing a gun at Ruth and Emilia.
I couldn’t believe it. He was in the same class as us in kindergarten; he had played in the orchestra with Ruth and Emilia until they had to leave. Despite the cold I wound down the car window. I know Ruth saw me because she called my name and began to run towards the car, but Irena caught hold of my sleeve and whispered, ‘In God’s name, close the window. Think of the children if you won’t think of yourself.’
Georg hit Ruth on the side of her head with his gun. She stumbled, obviously hurt, but he forced her back into line. We sat there watching the soldiers beat and kick the young girls and children, and herd them on to the trucks for what seemed like hours, although when I looked at my watch afterwards it was only ten minutes. And the whole time Marianna slept and Irena held her hands over Erich’s eyes so he wouldn’t see what was going on. He thought we were playing a game of hide and seek.
After Irena wound up the window we sat in silence. Neither Irena nor Brunon said a word, although I’m sure Irena recognized Ruth and Emilia as I did. The first truck moved off, and the rabbi and some old men were brought out of the building. At that point the SS waved Brunon on. When I looked back I saw the rabbi lying on the ground and the soldiers kicking him. He was covered in blood.
I suppose the SS were angry because he’d hidden so many children in the synagogue. Was he trying to save them from deportation? Why bother, if they can have their own country? And why beat him? He was old; he couldn’t fight back or hurt any of them. The soldiers were laughing as though they were enjoying what they were doing, Georg loudest of all.
I tried to talk to Irena about it but she wouldn’t say a word, and when I saw that she was as upset as I was, I didn’t press her. My life has been nothing but secrets ever since Herr Schumacher said we weren’t to tell anyone about our accommodation in Russia. I can’t confide my feelings about Claus or our marriage to anyone, and now this.