1

Endings and Beginnings

WHEN I FINALLY OPENED MY EYES, the first thing I saw was a ceiling.

That by itself was not enough to upset me. But the fact that I could not remember ever having seen this particular ceiling before, much less the rest of the room, set off internal alarms. I attempted to swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit up but soon learned that even this small effort was beyond me. Worse, in my weakened condition I couldn’t remember where I was. I didn’t know if I had been recaptured by the Gestapo or if I had found the sanctuary I had so desperately sought.

I heard a woman’s voice. “Come see, he’s awake!”

I turned my head in the direction from which the voice emanated. Before me stood my friend, Jenny Lebrecht. Within seconds, her sons, Horst and Heinz, joined her. All of them stared at me as if surprised that I had woken at all.

“We’re very glad to see you, Dagobert,” Horst said. “Do you know what happened?”

“Not really,” I muttered. “I remember escaping from the Gestapo prison, walking here, and knocking on your door, but I don’t remember anything past that.”

“Well, my boy,” Jenny said, “I think you could stand some nourishment. Then we’ll talk.”

Jenny disappeared, returning with a tray loaded with bread, cheese, and milk. I struggled to a sitting position and wolfed down the food while they gathered around me.

“You haven’t had much to eat recently, have you?” Leo Lebrecht asked.

“Well, no one has invited me to any banquets lately,” I responded, grinning weakly.

Jenny smiled at me. Her expression was so sweet and welcoming that it was a relief just to be in her presence. She was petite, although somewhat heavyset, wearing her black hair in a bun on top of her head. Jenny was a rare individual in those days, all the more precious to me because she seemed genuinely interested in my well-being. After making sure I was comfortable and had enough food, she sat down next to me and started to speak.

“Now then,” she began, “I will tell you what I know and then you can fill in the blanks. Two days ago, shortly before I was to go to work, I heard a knock at the door. It was unnerving, as it always is these days. The boys and Leo hid and I went to the door and looked through the peephole. Lo and behold, it was our sweet Dagobert, leaning against the wall.

“No sooner had I opened the door than you collapsed. I called the boys to help me and they carried you to the couch. You must have done a lot of walking, because when we took off your shoes, your soles were worn through. Then when we removed your socks much of the skin from the bottom of your feet came off with them. It was very unappealing. You have been unconscious and we have all been terribly worried about you. But now you are awake and so we are happy.”

“So tell us, Dago,” Leo interjected, “tell us what has happened. How have you come to us?”

I looked at him, almost too exhausted to speak. “I just missed you too much, Herr Lebrecht. I had to come back to say hello.” Finishing the last of the food, I said, “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath. Then I will tell all. In the meantime, why don’t you fill me in on what has been happening here?”

The Lebrechts sat around the couch, eyeing each other, as if unsure how much to tell me in my present state. Finally, Leo took the lead.

“Well, as you probably know, Berlin is about to be invaded by a few Russians. With the Russians coming, the end seems to be in sight. I know that we had to turn you away before, but conditions have changed. I think that you can stay here without putting us in danger. Still, having Russians in Berlin is no guarantee of safety for the Jews, and we’re all very afraid of what will happen when the Red Army arrives.”

Heinz nodded. “We’ve heard rumors that the Russians are stealing anything not bolted down and that there have been numerous instances of rape.”

Jenny got up. “I can’t stand this talk. Let’s not talk like this. We just have to pray and hope for the best. Dagobert, you are not yet well. You are going to lie on that couch until you feel better.”

All this was great news for me. Even though the Lebrechts had refused me sanctuary in the past, with the end of the war so near it seemed probable that I would be allowed to hide here for the duration.

And now, we bided our time, waiting for the end to come. The fighting in the streets grew louder every day. The echoes of artillery and rifle fire and other types of explosions became much more frequent. It should have been clear to every living being in Berlin that this war was going to end and it was going to end soon. The Russians were unstoppable.

The next day, Jenny walked upstairs to her job in the Nazi district headquarters building. It was one of the ironies of the war that not only was Jenny employed by the Nazis without ever having been discovered to be Jewish, but she was also allowed an apartment directly under headquarters.

When she went into the office area, no one was there. Although it was early, the building should have been humming by now with people going about their assigned tasks. Instead, it was deserted. After a few minutes spent investigating, she came back downstairs.

“They’re gone! They’re gone! They took some things, but not all. I suppose they’re fleeing before the Russians get here!”

We all hugged and cheered. Heinz danced a little jig, while Horst looked at his father questioningly.

“What is it?” Leo asked him. “Are you just happy, or is there something else you want?”

Horst grinned and asked, “How about some fresh air?”

Jenny gasped. Horst was suggesting that we all go outside. Leo looked down at the ground, pondering Horst’s request.

He looked up, a grim expression on his face. “All right. But just for a minute. The Nazis may have fled, but we don’t want to take unnecessary chances. Who knows what the rest of our German neighbors would do out of fear or desperation? I don’t want to have survived this long only to be killed in the last days of the war.”

We opened the door to the apartment and climbed the stairs to go outside. Horst almost skipped as he went, while Heinz walked cautiously, as if he were afraid that his newfound freedom would be snatched from him. Jenny walked beside me with tears in her eyes. She had been outside many times, but the boys and Leo had become virtual prisoners, unable to leave the apartment for fear of arrest and the deportation that would follow. Because of her fake papers and position as a maid in the Nazi district office, Jenny could come and go at will. She had been the family’s connection to the outside world. But the two boys and Leo were isolated, unable to leave the apartment.

Leo, Horst, and Heinz poked their heads through the front door. Jenny and I looked out from behind them. The scene outside was one of total chaos. Before the war, Lorenzstrasse had been a quiet, tree-lined street in a peaceful community. Now it was a hellhole. Everywhere, we saw soldiers, guns, and military vehicles. Hitler Youth roamed the streets, armed with Panzerfäust antitank weapons and rifles. These boy soldiers seemed very enthused by their impending assignment to fight the Russians and defend the fatherland to the last man. We could hear the boom boom boom of Russian artillery, coming ever closer.

After getting our fill of this scene of impending destruction, we went back downstairs. As night drew on, we endlessly discussed the impending arrival of the Russians and what the consequences for us might be.

“Will the house be destroyed?” Jenny worried. “If they shell indiscriminately, we might be buried under the rubble!”

“We can only speculate and hope for the best,” Leo said. “There is no way of knowing what will happen until it happens.”

Eventually, the conversation returned to me and my recent experiences. Horst took the lead in questioning me. “You’ve had your rest, Dago. Now tell us what has happened to you. How have you survived the past few years?”

So I started from the beginning. I told them about being on the run, living underground as a U-boat, a Jewish refugee who had escaped the mass deportations. I told them where I had gone after our sabotage attempt at the weapons factory. I told them about Paul Richter, the blind Communist, and about the black market trade in ration cards and identification papers. I told them how I had nearly been taken by the Gestapo on several occasions, and about Günther and how we had impersonated SS officers. About marrying Ilse to save her from deportation. I told them about living alone in the woods and about being so hungry that I ate pigeons and about the hand wound that almost killed me. I told them about the country doctor who didn’t bother to use sterile instruments.

They sat silent, engrossed, as I told them how Anni Kusitzky and Ilse had hung my swollen hand over my head to help it heal. I told them about how, when I was finally recovering, the Gestapo had stormed our hiding place and arrested us, taking us to prison. About how Ilse and Klaus had been deported while I was thrown into a cell and tortured. I told them about the bombing raid and the prison gate and about making a key from a lead pipe and how this led to our eventual escape.

But before anything else, I told them about the beginning; about myself, my parents, and the Gestapo . . .

Here I am in 1997 at a monument in Berlin that represents Jews being shipped to extermination camps. At rear is a commemorative tablet listing transport numbers, dates, destinations, and number of people. My parents were deported to Trawniki, Poland, on transport no. 11, March 28, 1942. There were 974 people in this transport.