"Sandy, quit thinking so loudly," Franz said as he looked over at me with a half-knowing smile. "The outcome of the world is not completely determined by you."
"Says the guy who hasn't spoken in an hour," I said, giving him the same smile. Franz shifted in his seat and looked over, there was a question coming.
"Are you certain the Chancellor knows to send the aide and her family if she has one? The conversation was pretty vague."
In answer to his concerns, I replied, "Yes, I'm certain, she is the only Jewish staff member as far as we are aware. The other options would not make sense. When his wife Herma was still alive; she was every bit as involved behind the scenes as he is. Sending her aide for a small ceremony makes a lot of sense with the current climate in Vienna."
Franz nodded in agreement, "Any preference on a stop?" he inquired.
"Leoben? Not quite halfway," I replied.
"The way she handles, Sandy, I would happily make the whole drive," he looked at me hopefully as he said it, but he already knew. We both loved to drive, that is why we decided on drawing straws right at the beginning to prevent squabbles.
"No way, Fritzy, if you are volunteering to chauffeur, you'll have to wait for appropriate circumstances. I am not letting you put all the miles on this lady," I said. We both chuckled and fell back into our comfortable silence.
At Leoben, we stopped for dinner, then I took over driving. Fritzy was asleep about 2 minutes after the wheels hit the road, an ability we did not share, although I wish we did. The air was beginning to change. Tyrol had a certain scent in the air. It is impossible to explain, and many may dispute the statement. For myself, though, it was unmistakable, home. Thoughts now turned to Miss Eigner and her family. We were unable to have a complete and thorough conversation regarding her details. The primary mission was to get her or them out of the country. The best option was Britain or America. Once more, The Earl would honor me with his benevolence by providing passage to Britain before it was too late. Who were we kidding, for many it was already too late. Every day, Jewish people, supposedly moving onto greener pastures, ended up dead in work camps or worse, slaughtered. Although perhaps it was the other way around. Just a matter of perspective. No question remained about the bottom line though. The master race was enacting treacherous plots to clean the chaff from the wheat.
The landscape took on dramatic changes. Valleys of farmland surrounded by mountains began to turn to high peaks. The valleys became narrower although still fertile and lush in the warmer months. Signs of the change to alpine climates were everywhere. Lofts were stuffed full of grass to carry livestock through the winter. The last stores would have been put up. Cellars and larders packed with the summer bounty. Smokehouses are full of meat. In the towns, things were still a struggle. Since the Treaty of St. Germain and financial restructuring, conditions had improved significantly over the previous nine years, but it was a long hard road.
Our families, although technically no longer nobility after 1919, had lost little. Investments and holdings were handled through Switzerland primarily. Finances had always kept to the gold standard, as indeed they still were, partially due to Swiss lineage through my father. Mother's side too had dealings with Switzerland before it was Switzerland, to hear the stories. It went back to the salt and silver mines throughout old Tyrol, also held to the gold standard, without significant investment in other currencies. Land, of course, came with the lineage on both sides, but little of it was still attached to titles. Many had been sold into the families' holdings. Truly, we were grateful every day for our blessings.
Through our faith and affiliations, we strove to assist those who suffered. Even with something as simple as milk and bread. The caretaker of the property we were headed to a perfect example. Released from a camp after the war, destitute with a wife and baby, they had gone to the parish priest at Dom zu St. Jakob 2 to beg him to take the child. My mother was there performing a service, helping those in need. Her heart broke for the couple willing to sacrifice their child so it would not starve. The next day, my father sat with the man to assess his abilities. Finding him an honest, capable man, he drew up a contract that very day. They were clothed, provisioned, and moved to their new home the following day.
Dusk was coming on, I flipped on the radio to see if I could tune in at the local station, doubtful, however, that we would be close enough. News was coming through on a station that was not there before. We only had one station here and this was not it. I knew that voice, I gave Franz a hard nudge. He came awake immediately, looking for the reason he was awakened. He rubbed his face vigorously for a moment, then stopped dead. Looking over at me, we listened, stunned.
“It is obvious that the Austrian and the Czech problems have to be solved to further strengthen Germany's political and, in particular, her strategic position. To start with, I am unsure whether both problems can be solved simultaneously, or whether one should deal first with the question of Czechoslovakia, or with the Austrian questions. There is no doubt that these questions have to be solved, and so all decisions are long-made plans which I am determined to realize the moment the circumstances are favorable."
"Did he just announce his invasion?" I asked, staring at Franz. Franz looked as stunned as I must have.
"He truly is a madman, Sandy. We have known that since ‘23, but you forget until you hear him again." Franz finished his statement and looked straight ahead. The station started broadcasting its adoration of the Führer’s messages. I made a mental note of the number on the dial and shut it off.
"We had better ensure our cousin has this information. Put something together, the station was 670 on the dial," I said.
"We'll need to make a last stop for petrol up here, we can send a telegram, Sandy. I'll run over while you fill up." With his plan voiced, he went to work in his little notebook, putting the message together.
I was instantly so grateful I had sent Frieda away. Even knowing they were not moving to Austria yet, there would not have been a moment's peace had we left her there, or worse, sent her back to Munich. The sheer brass of that little fanatic. Yet they follow him like sheep to a slaughter. Throughout Austria, there were small groups of Nazis and Nazi sympathizers. They believe Hitler is the answer, the savior risen again. Why do we see him so clearly, while others walk straight off the cliff?
In town, I pulled into the little station. The gentleman filled the tank, checked the oil, and cleaned the windshield.
"Beautiful, the C12 isn't it?" he asked.
"Yes, just acquired it about a month ago," I replied.
"She is lovely, I wish to have an auto just like this one day," he stated.
He had the local paper, slightly used, but I had him add it to the gas. We settled the bill just as Franz made his appearance. The automobile had a full tank. Franz had brought some sausage, cheese, bread, and a small jar of something.
"Where did you get that?" I said as I pulled away from the station.
"The gentleman in the telegraph office lives in the back. They had just finished supper, and he took pity on me. Something about me looking longingly at their kitchen." He shrugged as he finished the statement and shoved a hunk of bread in his mouth. Laughter escaped me but I was grateful too. We still had another hour or so to go.
Fritzy took pity on his driver and shared a portion of his supper. Generous would be an exaggeration though. The stars were out and shining brightly with the lack of moon. A shiver ran up my spine as the memory of a pitch-black night with a body in front of me. It seemed ages ago, not just a few nights. So much had happened since then. Once the avalanche breaks loose, it does not stop until it hits the bottom. Our snow was barely slipping from the peak, it would only become more treacherous from here. The trick was to stay on top riding it down and it would be a trick.