September 1938
I felt as stiff as my starched collar as I entered the classroom and shielded myself with my notebook. The school Aunt Charlotte enrolled me in was one of the most elite in town. It was for girls only and housed in what once was a grand old home. These girls came from elite families—all party members, all wealthy. I knew I’d stick out like a cabbage in a rose garden and would have given anything to vanish. I didn’t dare remove my worry stone from my skirt pocket but concentrated on feeling its weight at my right side. Just knowing it was there helped. I wondered how far behind the other girls I was in my schooling.
“Come in, girl. No one is going to eat you alive.” The science teacher, Fräulein Meyer, was a tall mountain of a woman and looked like the sort who was perpetually annoyed. And from the looks on the faces of the other girls, I wasn’t convinced she spoke the truth. There was one open seat toward the middle left of the room. I slid into it with silent thanks that I wasn’t front and center where I would be never free from Fräulein Meyer’s gaze. The other mercy was not being made to introduce myself to the class. She didn’t seem the sort to abide by such rituals, and so far, it was her chief quality.
“Don’t worry, Meyer is that way with everyone, you’ll get used to it,” the girl next to me whispered. She had lovely dark curls, striking gray eyes, and a sweet smile. I returned the smile gratefully, glad that there was one welcoming face in the room. The rest of the girls seemed as friendly as lionesses at feeding time.
I mouthed a thank-you as I removed my notebook from my bag and began taking careful notes. It was meant to be a biology class, which had piqued my interest because of Mama’s past as a doctor. She’d been a prominent physician in Teisendorf before Hitler’s decree barred women from practicing medicine outside of midwifery. She enjoyed delivering babies and helping women transition into motherhood, but her skills had stretched far beyond that one narrow focus. She still helped the people in town who could not afford a proper doctor, though she was gravely limited by not being able to prescribe medications or perform operations. She concocted her own medicines when she could but always knew when to send a patient for care with a licensed doctor who could do more for them within the scope of the law. Papa fought with her, worried that the authorities would punish us all if they learned what she was doing, but she never yielded to his pleas.
I wanted to learn about biology and chemistry to follow in her footsteps, but the information Fräulein Meyer was presenting would be of little use. It had more to do with the superiority of the German race than with human anatomy, cellular development, or anything that might be practical in the medical field. I was disappointed but hoped the course would move on once the Führer’s point had been made.
“I’m Klara Schmidt,” the girl next to me said as we packed up our things to head to the next class.
“Hanna Rombauer,” I said, extending a hand, which she accepted enthusiastically.
“I thought you must be. I hear you’re staying with Herr and Frau Rombauer?” Klara asked as we walked down the corridor to literature class.
“Yes, they’re my aunt and uncle,” I said.
“They’re great friends with my parents. I was so glad to hear they had a girl my age coming to stay. I’ll beg Mama and Papa to have you all to dinner soon.”
“That would be lovely,” I said, thinking that it would be less tedious than the dinner parties Aunt Charlotte had hinted they would be hosting soon.
“Will you be coming to the BDM meeting after school tomorrow?” she asked.
The Bund Deutscher Mädel was growing in popularity in Teisendorf. Mama had her doubts about the BDM, so she always found an excuse for me to avoid going to meetings. Emergencies at home and such. I’d once heard Mama and Papa disagreeing about this as well, but in most things, Papa had left the raising of me to Mama. Of course, things were different now, and I sensed Uncle Otto and Aunt Charlotte would be enthusiastic about my involvement. Given how kind they’d been, it seemed like a small gesture to please them.
“I suppose so, yes,” I answered. “I’ll have to ask my aunt and uncle first.”
“Oh, they won’t stop you. But of course, you should ask.”
“I haven’t been to one, so you’ll have to be my guide if you don’t mind.”
“Glad to,” she said. “Some of the girls are a bit snobbish, but it’s really a fun time. No one will mind if you don’t have a uniform by the next meeting. The Rombauers will get you one, I’m sure.”
I nodded, having no doubt on that score. Aunt Charlotte had gone positively mad while we were in the department store a few days earlier and I felt like my wardrobe was now sufficient for four girls to have more than they needed.
Upon returning home from school, it was apparent that Aunt Charlotte hadn’t finished with her mission, either. She greeted me at the door and whooshed me to my bedroom where a woman with a pinched face, a tape measure, and a pin cushion was waiting.
“We’ll need three dinner dresses and one for dancing for now,” Aunt Charlotte proclaimed. “Colorful, too.”
“This young lady needs a pink gown. All pretty girls should have one,” the seamstress declared.
“Then that’s what she shall have,” Aunt Charlotte said, then looked to me as if suddenly remembering that I was in the room. “You’re very lucky, darling. Frau Himmel is a very busy woman and her services are much in demand of late. Her dresses are some of the finest in Berlin.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, trying to hold still as Frau Himmel draped fabrics over my shoulders, presumably to assess how the colors and textures would complement my complexion.
“How was school?” Aunt Charlotte asked, not looking at me, but rather watching the dressmaker’s practiced movements.
“Not bad,” I answered. “I made friends with a girl named Klara Schmidt. She says you’re friends with her parents.”
Her eyes flashed upward to me at last. “Indeed, we are. Oh, Hanna, I’m so pleased to hear that you’re making friends with the right sort of people. Your uncle will be thrilled.”
“She wants me to go to the BDM meeting tomorrow,” I said. “Would that be all right?”
“I have your uniform all ready, dear. I was going to speak with you after dinner about it. Your uncle and I feel it’s an important part of your education. That you’ve decided to go on your own is truly wonderful.”
She pulled a plain blue skirt and white blouse from the closet along with a blue sort of necktie that matched the skirt, and a pair of sturdy shoes. “Not fashionable, but serviceable,” she said. “And there are exercise clothes as well. They’ll be putting you through your paces, make no mistake about that.”
“Thank you,” I said as she placed the garments back.
“I was hopeful that you would be smart and amenable to good training,” Aunt Charlotte said. “But I see now that you need precious little of it. Your uncle and I will be here to make sure you stay true to the good instincts you’ve shown and secure a good place for yourself in the world.”
I smiled, though I felt a cold prickling in my spine. Aunt Charlotte spoke of good instincts, but I wondered if Mama would fully agree.
“You don’t seem pleased, darling,” Aunt Charlotte said as I stood stock still for the dressmaker. “Don’t you like the dresses?”
I looked at the length of pink taffeta draped over me and couldn’t possibly envision the finished product. It was impossible to render any sort of opinion aside from that I’d never owned a formal dress in my life. But perhaps this was what a girl my age should want. Maybe Mama had missed a few important lessons along the way. I mustered a smile.
“Oh, Aunt Charlotte, you and Uncle Otto have been wonderful. So incredibly generous. It just feels like nothing is as it was.”
“Nor is it, my poor dear,” she said. “But as sad as it is, it’s up to you either to accept it or to wallow in it. I know which one I’d choose.”
“You’re right, Aunt Charlotte. I’ll try.”
“Like I said, you’re a smart girl. And a pretty one. The future holds nothing but promise for you.”
Her words sounded so much like Mama’s that I felt the clenching in my stomach loosen ever so slightly. She wasn’t Mama, but she was trying to fill her shoes the best she could.
THE SUN WAS relentless as we hiked in the woods outside of Berlin, but I welcomed the rays, feeling nourished by them after too many hours trapped in the classroom or under Aunt Charlotte’s watchful eye. While I was able to keep pace, Klara was drenched from the exertion and most of the other girls were faring worse than she, so unused to the heat they all were. A few had fallen behind and our group leaders were lecturing them sternly. Saturdays were reserved for extended outdoor activities with the BDM, each outing meant to test our stamina and fortitude.
“Have some of my water,” I said, offering Klara my canteen. She accepted it gratefully.
“We’ve hiked plenty of times before, but nothing like this,” she panted.
“It’s the heat. They should have us going slower,” I said. “And they should have told everyone to bring water.”
“They want to toughen us up,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as she huffed.
“Giving us all sunstroke won’t make us stronger,” I said. “They ought to know better.”
“Shhhh,” she warned. “If they catch you saying things like that, you’ll have trouble.”
“I can’t speak the truth?” I asked. “Are they so afraid to hear it?”
Klara gave me a warning look that betrayed the answer.
“Why aren’t you struggling?” she asked. “As much as I like you, I think I hate you a bit right now.”
She shot me a martyred look and I laughed, truly laughed, for the first time in weeks. “I spent most of my waking hours walking the hills with my mother when I wasn’t in school. She was quite an outdoorswoman. All the meandering gave me stamina.”
I stopped under a particularly fine spruce tree, took out my pocketknife, and used it to take a cutting from a low-hanging branch. I placed the cutting in my pack and continued on before people noticed we’d stopped.
“What’s that for?” Klara asked.
“Spruce can be dead useful if you infuse it into an oil. You can use it in all sorts of medicine from a cough syrup to helping with rheumatism. Mama showed me how.”
“I have to tell you, I heard your aunt tell my parents that your mother was a bit . . . eccentric,” she said slowly, looking over to see how I reacted.
“I can see why some would think so,” I said. “She cared a lot about treating people. It broke her heart when they told her she couldn’t be a doctor.”
“She must have been wonderful,” Klara said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I felt my throat constrict and my eyes sting. In the six weeks since Mama died, no one had made that simple gesture. Not Papa. Not my brothers. Not Aunt Charlotte or Uncle Otto. I took a deep breath to quell my tears. Something told me that the organizers of the hike wouldn’t take too kindly to such displays.
“She really was,” I said, once I’d mastered myself. “She knew people. She understood them. Not just what made them ill, but what made them well. What made them whole. If I am half the woman she was, I’ll be pleased with how I spent my life.”
“Well, she did a good deed by getting you outside so much. It’s given you an advantage over the rest of us who were trapped inside with knitting and needlework.”
“I’m awful at those things,” I admitted. “I’ll have my reckoning when we start working on housewifely stuff.”
“Bah, you’ll have an easier time learning how to darn socks than any of us will keeping up with the group leaders on these hikes. Though it’s better than all the ‘housewifely stuff,’ as you put it.” She glanced around again, checking to see if any ears had been listening.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“They’re obsessed with us being good mothers and we’re not even fully grown yet,” she admitted. “Never breathe a word that I said this, but their constant harping on the subject gets tedious.”
“I’m sure it does,” I agreed. “So why do you come?”
“My parents want me to. And it’s not like any of us can join up with other groups.”
It was true. Hitler’s edicts had even reached as far as football clubs and choirs. No youth groups were permitted beyond those created by the party.
“We have time to worry about families and the like, don’t we? We’re not even out of school.”
“Ah, if they catch us while we’re young we won’t get too enchanted with our independence. Not me. If I got to design clothes for one of the big houses in Paris, there wouldn’t be a man alive who could get me down the aisle. Who’d want to leave a posh job in a big city to go change diapers?”
I laughed. “You paint a rosy picture.”
“I think that’s it, though. They want us making babies before we know what we’re missing out on.”
“I don’t want to settle down right away, either. I’d like to see the world and accomplish a few things first. Establish a career,” I said. I always pictured a small brood of children, but when I was closer to thirty than twenty. “My mother was able to manage a career and a family rather admirably.”
“I wouldn’t talk too much about your aspirations in front of anyone else,” she said. “Not even your aunt and uncle. Perhaps especially not them.”
I glanced over at her. “You’re probably right,” I said.
She knew my aunt and uncle better than I did, and I knew I’d be a fool not to heed her warning.
“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward,” she said. “I just want you to feel welcome here.”
“You’ve been nothing but kind, Klara. I appreciate your advice.”
“If that’s true, then promise to be my hiking buddy from now on. You make me look good.”
I laughed again. “You have a deal.”
We arrived back at the school, drenched in sweat and many looking severely dehydrated. It took everything in me not to tell the group leaders they were being completely irresponsible. Mama would have done, but I wasn’t as brave as she was.
“Hanna Rombauer, I’d like to speak with you,” one of the group leaders called out before we dispersed to go home.
I walked over to where the group leaders were circled up. They watched me as I approached.
“You were quite impressive out there today,” one said by way of greeting.
“Thank you,” I said. I maintained eye contact, though I wanted to bow my head. It was a habit of mine from childhood that Papa had despised and insisted that I correct.
“If you show such skill in other areas, there will be a lot of opportunity for you to move up in the BDM. We’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”
“I-I’ll do my best,” I said, and scurried back over to Klara to walk home. I thought of my helplessness when it came to knitting and sincerely hoped they weren’t counting on me.
“I told you that you make me look good,” Klara said with a laugh when I related what they said on the way home. “Don’t be surprised if the girls are friendlier on Monday. These things get around.”
“And more of the girls will want to be friends because I’ve impressed the BDM leaders on a hike?”
“Yes. And that’s why they’ve been standoffish. They didn’t want to risk looking friendly before they knew what you were made of.”
“That seems rather calculating, doesn’t it?” I wasn’t used to the social machinations of girls. I saw them from afar in Teisendorf, but preferred my mother’s company to their petty squabbles. Papa said I was too aloof, but Mama said it made me serious. From her there rarely was higher praise.
“It’s just the way things are nowadays. It doesn’t do to make friends with the wrong sort.”
“No, I suppose you’re right,” I said. Uncle Otto made muttering sounds every morning as he read the papers at breakfast. There were political stirrings, but I didn’t dare inquire what made him upset. “Why did you take a risk, then?”
“You were too interesting not to take a chance,” she said. “Mother gone, tragic orphan and all that. I’m a sucker for a sob story.”
I punched her arm playfully, but was glad she’d taken the risk.
Klara was right about news traveling quickly. By the time I reached home, the group leaders had called Aunt Charlotte. She had the cook prepare a magnificent spread for lunch that was served as soon as I washed up and changed into one of my new dresses.
“Eat well, darling. You’ve had a vigorous morning. We’ll make this our little tradition after such strenuous exercise on Saturday mornings, shall we? You’ll have to tell me all your favorite things so that Cook can put them on rotation.”
“Quite right. Such good work should be rewarded,” Uncle Otto proclaimed. “Charlotte, make sure the girl has a pretty necklace to wear. Nothing gaudy, mind. Something dainty and feminine.”
“I know just the thing,” Aunt Charlotte said. “I saw something lovely in the window downtown just last week that will suit our Hanna perfectly.”
“Just the ticket. See to it, dear,” Uncle Otto said to Aunt Charlotte. He then turned to me. “We’re having a dinner here next Wednesday and I want you at your best.”
“Yes, Uncle Otto.”
“I expect nothing less than perfection, my dear. In looks, manner, and deed. Sparkling conversation, too, if you can manage it. Respectful and attentive silence if you cannot. Follow your aunt’s directives precisely and observe her in society and you’ll do well.”
Aunt Charlotte couldn’t hide a small, prideful smile at Uncle Otto’s praise. He wasn’t lavish with compliments, and his vote of confidence was as close to a glowing endorsement as she would ever get from him. I wondered how it was for her, such a vivacious person living with such a stern man.
I retired to my room and was grateful when Mila finished our evening ritual of helping me change for the night and brushing out my hair. She was a nice enough woman, but it was a night for quiet.
I took out Mama’s mortar and pestle and pulled out the spruce cutting from that morning. I thought of infusing it in oil for medicines, but I knew I’d face questions if anyone found it. Instead, I set the branch aside, took out one of my old petticoats and a needle and thread, cut a few squares of fabric, and sewed little pouches. I then put the spruce needles in the mortar and swirled the pestle about until they released their scent. I worked slowly and methodically, like Mama had done, careful to treat the plant with respect as she taught me. I took the thick, sticky paste from the mortar and sealed it in the pouches, which I then placed in each of my drawers.
If I couldn’t have home, at least I could have its wholesome scent and remember.