Vienna Prelude (68 page)

An old man among the cabinet members lurched forward on his crutches and shouted into the still-live microphone, “Long live Austria! Today I am ashamed to call myself German!” And then the technicians pulled the plug, and it was over. But at least one among the Austrian cabinet had proclaimed that he was ashamed of that blood kinship so loudly touted by Hitler.
Yes
, thought Murphy,
it is a moment for shame
.

Murphy noted the tears streaming down the faces of Austrian soldiers and government sentries as he left the place. He watched as cocky young teenagers and swaggering men streamed out from their secret places wearing swastika armbands. Those who were ashamed stayed off the streets.

At last the Nazis had emerged. They had been sharpening their knives for this moment ever since the plebiscite had been announced.

Murphy did not go back to the INS office. He drove slowly past St. Stephan’s, where the entrance to the Judenplatz was barricaded and held by Nazi youths. The arrests would begin soon. Murphy dared not enter the quarter now.

He returned to Elisa’s apartment with the vague hope that Leah and Shimon would have somehow arrived there. He was wrong, and he was sorry—sorry for everyone in Austria.

46

Liberty and Captivity

Promptly at eight o’clock, the orderly brought in Theo’s metal tray. He was a talkative young man usually, and Theo would have spoken to him easily if he had not been wary of every Gestapo trick. In the barracks, sometimes the nicest inmates had been the informers.

“Well, Herr Stern! Another meal for the hungry monkey, eh? You eat, but you do not chatter. Ah, well. Good food tonight. Put a little more meat on your bones. You are looking much better. Much better.” He set the tray down. Theo noticed the swastika armband on the youth.

Theo was glad the man had made the remark about the monkey; the insult eased the guilt of what Theo planned. Theo gulped down the mutton and the potatoes. There was no use leaving hungry. One way or another, Theo had determined that he
was
leaving. He stacked the dishes neatly on the bed table, then took the butter knife and the metal tray and stood waiting behind the door as the orderly clattered down the corridor.

“Well, Herr Stern—” The door flew open and the man entered cheerfully. Then he stopped and stood staring at the empty bed. “Herr Stern?” The question was barely off his lips when Theo slammed the metal tray across the orderly’s skull. He did not make a sound as he crumpled to the ground.

Theo’s heart was pumping wildly as he stripped off the man’s clothes. He wondered what the nurse would say now if she checked his pulse. The orderly’s clothes were baggy on him, but Theo notched the belt tightly and pulled the pajama-like green coveralls over the top of the stolen street clothes. The shoes were a problem They were at least a size too small, but Theo crammed his feet into them and sat panting for a moment, trying to think what to do next.

The orderly moaned. He was coming around. Theo ripped a sheet into strips and gagged him, then tied his hands and feet tightly. With surprising strength, he hefted the orderly onto the bed. Then as the orderly gawked at the apparition of the mindless Herr Stern suddenly come to life, Theo threw a sheet over the man’s head.

“When they find you, tell them Herr Stern says
Guten Abend
and
Auf Wiedersehen
, will you? I have enjoyed every morsel of food.
Danke.
”

The orderly moaned. It sounded like the moan of a sick man, and Theo prayed that it would be hours before the staff discovered what had happened. He switched off the light, and with one backward glance over his shoulder, he looked out at the stars.
To be free! Colors and stars!

The shoes squeezed Theo’s toes, and he was conscious of his limp as he walked out of the room. He tried to assume the same matter-of-fact air as the orderly might have had, took the handle of the cart full of dirty dishes and trays, and began to wheel it quickly down the hall toward the marked stairway.

In an alcove, three nurses huddled together near a radio. Theo recognized the shrieking voice of Adolf Hitler and heard the thousands who cheered him and shouted, “
Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!
Heil Hitler!”

The women did not look up or notice him as he passed by the nurses’ station. This was the first time he had been grateful for the spellbinding voice of the tyrant.

Twenty paces from the stairs he opened the door of a storage area and shoved the cart inside. Then he quickly stripped off the outer clothing of the hospital orderly and with a deep breath, he smoothed the wrinkled shirt and baggy wool trousers before he emerged again into the corridor.

Behind him he could hear voices, but the sense of what they said was lost amid the eerie chant of the thousands in the Sportpalast of Berlin. He lowered his eyes and strode deliberately toward the stairway. There was no guard there. No SS uniform. No plainclothes Gestapo agent. The stairway was empty. He could hear the groaning of the elevator as he clambered down the steps. He did not notice that the shoes were too tight. He could only think about the stars, the shining bits of ice and fire that beckoned him from beyond the walls and the wires.

God
, he prayed silently as he felt excitement grow fierce within him.
God, help me
. There was no more eloquent prayer to be found.
Freedom!
Hope swelled, and with that hope came the intense fear that he might be caught before he walked out the doors of the hospital. What if he did not know where he was, what city they had taken him to? What if he was unable to discover a place to hide? He had not thought further ahead than the front door of the building that had held him prisoner. Perhaps it would be enough to draw one breath of free air. Perhaps it would be enough to die a free man, walking up the street. He would not die without a fight, of that he was certain. His hand slid down the cold banister as he reached the landing of the third floor. Below him, a door opened and footsteps clacked against the steps heading up.

Theo quickly opened the door and stepped into the hallway of the third-floor ward. He heard the crying of children and, on this floor as well, the sound of Hitler’s speech over the radio.
No wonder the children cry
, he thought grimly.

He waited by the door until the footsteps on the stairway ascended past him; then he slipped through the door and out onto the landing. Was the man on the steps above him SS? or Gestapo on evening rounds?
Certainly.
Theo thought,
there will be more
. In spite of his shaking legs, he quickened his limping pace until he was nearly running down the steps.
Just one glimpse of the stars, God, and then you must show me where to go from there!
he begged.

***

Tears streaked the face of Karl Wattenbarger as he gazed out on the stormy peaks of the Tyrol. “And so it is finished,” he said to Franz quietly.

Their guns were propped in the corner by the door. All they had needed was one shout from Chancellor Schuschnigg, and they would have swarmed out to spill Nazi blood in the passes of the Alps.

“Not even a shot,” Franz whispered as though he could not believe the day’s events. Had they not all hoped and trusted?

Marta’s voice was hoarse with exhaustion. “What else was there to do? Schuschnigg explained. The Italians refused to stand by us. The British wired to say they would not help. And the French would not even answer his calls.”

“We would have died alone.” Karl sounded angry. Not at his wife but at those who had brought Austria to her knees.

Marta’s eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed up toward the suffering Christ above the Herrgottseck. “My husband,” she said in a hushed voice, choked with emotion. “My sons, you sons who are left to me—if we may not by the mercy of God die as free people, then we must, as our Lord Jesus, die helping others to become free.” She raised her chin slightly as the tears began to flow. “Nine little souls have been entrusted into our care.” She stubbornly refused to yield to the tears and brushed them away. “And with the merciful help of God we are put here to help them become free! So we cannot spill Nazi blood in the passes! We will fight them another way, and pray to God that He will send us little ones to save from their brutality!”

She had said it all. Karl nodded. “Yes, my dear wife. Brave Mama.” He put out his arms to her. “Then the spilling of our blood will have some meaning in heaven,
ja
?” She embraced him.

Only then did she let herself weep openly. A cross had come to them, and they must bear it for the sake of Jesus, for the sake of His little children. Sons and husband of her life as well must now be offered back to God in this service. Marta wept as though her heart would break. How she had hoped it would not come to this! Oh, how she had prayed the cup of suffering would pass Austria and her own little Herrgottseck beneath the crucifix.

***

Now Hitler was speaking over the radio. Elisa sat rigidly in the chair across from Murphy as the madman raved about the common racial bond between Austrians and Germans. The greater German Reich was about to be established!

The growling voice had brought Elisa back to herself. She smoldered silently, her blue eyes fixed fiercely on the radio as though she wanted to smash it.

She stood and switched it off, then whirled around. “What’s the use of listening to such lies?” she snapped. “They will decimate the orchestra. Imprison doctors and professors and
anyone
who does not share that racial brotherhood! Then they will do the same to those they claim kinship with if there is a question asked!”

“Pack your things.” Murphy’s tone was low and urgent.

“Not until Leah and Shimon come!”

“If they haven’t made it here by now—”

“They are family to me! I won’t leave without them.”

“The Judenplatz is sealed. I saw it myself.”

“I’m not leaving Vienna without them.”

“They have their visas—to Palestine!” Murphy argued.

“And you know just how much that means to the Nazis, don’t you?” Her eyes were blazing.

Murphy wished he had taken her away while she was frightened and meek. They could have had this argument across the border in Czechoslovakia or Switzerland. “Elisa, you can’t do anything for them if they are caught, anyway.”

“Like my father? No one lifted a finger for him. Not even God! And if I, who belong to God, do not help, then how can God help?”

She is talking nonsense again,
Murphy thought. “Yes, like your father. Elisa, it is time to save your own neck. Do you hear me? Do you know what is happening this very minute on the frontier beyond Salzburg? in the mountains of the Tyrol? A dam has just burst. The flood is moving toward us. We can get out of Vienna now,
right now
, and no Nazi soldier will stop to question us. But if we wait—”

She wavered. “My passport. My American passport.”

“They can arrest whoever they choose.”

She shook her head slowly. The fear reared again. “Murphy.” She twisted the wedding band on her finger. “Please. An hour. We must wait one more hour.” She seemed about to cry again.

Murphy looked at the clock. “Pack then. It is eight-thirty. We are leaving at nine-thirty. With or without them.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. He wondered if she was seeing the armies, hearing the jackboots. After a minute she nodded in agreement and turned to pack a few precious belongings.

Murphy gazed at the silent radio. He too could imagine the armies of tanks and troop lorries streaming into Austria at this very moment. He was worried. There was no guarantee, even with American passports, that they could cross into Czechoslovakia tonight. Tomorrow might be too late.

***

Theo was painfully aware of the prisoner-identification band locked on to his wrist as he reached the lobby level of the hospital. He shoved it up under the sleeve of the wrinkled white shirt he wore, then stood breathlessly before the door that would lead him out into the main lobby of the hospital building.

He ran his hand over his chin. He was smooth shaven, thanks to the meticulous care of the nurses, but his short hair was no doubt disheveled. He passed his fingers through it in an attempt to straighten it; then, almost automatically, he patted the pocket of the orderly’s trousers and discovered a wallet and comb. He held back a gasp, and with trembling hands, he combed his hair. There was no cash in the wallet, no change in the pockets; with a disappointed grimace, he tossed the wallet into the corner under the stairs.

He knew that beyond the door, a Legion of Hitler’s henchmen would be patrolling the lobby, sitting in chairs and reading newspapers. There was no public place in Germany that was exempt from the watchers. “
One glimpse of the stars outside the walls, and all the rest does not matter,
” he reminded himself. He was seized with an urge to hide beneath the stairs with the stolen wallet. But he raised his head. He was once again Theo Lindheim, fighter pilot, hero of the Fatherland. And he opened the door.

The lobby was indeed crowded. Young children strained against the grasp of their mothers. Old men waited, staring at nothing. And everywhere Theo looked, neatly dressed men in suits sat reading newspapers.

Theo stepped out from the stairwell. Across the lobby, a million miles from where he stood, was a wide set of double doors. They swung outward. Traffic roared by on the broad boulevard just beyond the sidewalk.

Like a man in a dream, Theo forced himself to place one foot in front of the other. He wanted to run and slam himself against the doors, but he did not. At a slow deliberate pace, he could control his limp somewhat. No one seemed to notice that he had no coat, no hat. He was simply one more bony old man in the lobby, walking toward the doors. To freedom. To the stars and colors. Blaring horns. Women with shopping bags. Men on bicycles. Shops and bakeries. Cars whizzing by and streetcars clattering over the rails. Thirty paces. Twenty. He counted his steps. So close. He reached out his arms to open the door.