Chapter Four

Hilda Tells Her Story

Strangely enough although I had already had a family; mostly of boys, I fell deeply in love with my little Freya. She was a quiet little thing and was so easy to look after. She cried little and slept all through the night which was a great relief to Isaac and me as we had been used to sleepless nights in the past, especially with the ‘roaring boys’ I am sure Isaac felt the same towards Freya, but the thoughts of Franz and his illness never left his mind. I knew there was something amiss when he came back from Berlin and it was quite some time before he told me about Franz being in hospital, but Isaac is a man who cannot hold trouble in his mind for long and because of that fact, I never pursued him in any way for any kind of information when he returned home. I knew in time, he would tell me everything and sometimes I wished he hadn’t, but your family is always special, like the marriage vows, in sickness and in health . . . and you are always aware of that.

I wanted to go to Berlin myself and see Franz, but with Freya needing so much regular attention, I realized that I could not possibly do that and leave Isaac to care for the little girl on his own, but I doubled my prayers and begged God to send Franz back to us as he was too ill for the army to take him, despite what that damned officer told us when he came to collect our eldest son. There was no consideration at all for his health. Franz was a male and he was fifteen. No mention was said of him being Jewish, but I am sure that officer who came to our house to collect him knew that he was as he swore that when Franz returned to us, he would be coming home to a ‘perfect home’.

Isaac told me about the young man who befriended Franz and visited him regularly in the hospital and I smiled when I was told that his name was Adolf. I know he was Jewish, but I wondered what his parents were thinking when they christened him Adolf . . . and then I thought, perhaps it was only one of his parents who was Jewish and the non-Jewish parent named the lad after the great Adolf himself . . .

Whatever it was, the young Adolf seemed to be quite proud of his Jewish nationality and I thought a lot about this young Adolf and wondered did he have a girlfriend and if he had, was she Jewish . . . and would he marry and have lots of children with strange German names.

My mind was full of weird and wonderful thoughts now that we had baby Freya to consider in the vast array of characters in our family. I don’t think any one of them was like the other. Even the boys were totally different in make-up as they headed into manhood. Franz had always been the thoughtful one who would be found somewhere in a corner of the room reading a book, whereas Eric was a fighter and loved to bang something around with his fists in the garden. Kurt was a little gentler and I was a little afraid that he might have too much female in him, although I am sure he was not a homosexual. He was in love with a girl at his school and had brought her home several times to tea. He was also very artistic and loved drawing. Gunther was Maria’s twin. He would sit for hours playing his violin and Maria would sing in accompaniment. They seemed inseparable and now we had the little Freya to wonder what she might be like. With the world that she had been born into, we hoped she would not be a Nazi recruit . . . Isaac, my husband had something of all of his children in his character, but he was sure they were all like me, even how they looked and I would scoff at that idea, as I liked to think I was entirely feminine and dreaded the boys going around in skirts. . .

Talking of effeminacy, I am sure my cousin Herman was in some way leaning that way. He was very obese, but he preened himself too much which I thought was strange. I was surprised when I learned that he had joined the Nazi party as I thought they were all ‘superbutch’ and with no feelings for anyone other than for the Fuhrer himself. Herman had been an only child and had been utterly spoiled as a baby and I think that had something to do with how he grew up. Herman considered that everything he said or did was the perfect way to live. He didn’t say much and when he did his voice was quiet and timid, but I always felt that Herman could be very cruel if the occasion demanded. He was very suited to his chosen way of life, but he didn’t command respect from me. I felt he did what he was doing because he felt that the Jewish people would all soon be banished from Germany and he wasn’t going to be included in ‘that lot’ He never went to the synagogue and he never went out with women . . .

I don’t know what his parents thought of him. They were on my mother’s side as Herman’s mother was my mother’s sister, but Isaac thought he was what he described as a ‘queer’ and said that no man should live as Herman lived and that all ‘queers’ should be put down at birth. A thought which would have made him very unpopular in today’s Germany as I am sure that many of the Germans I had ever met, could well have been . . . a little different. Perhaps I should say that my country was populated by saints and sinners . . . and then I wouldn’t feel as if I had guilty thoughts.

I wanted so much to go to Berlin to visit Franz in hospital, but I realized the difficulty this would bring about as I had no way of leaving Freya for the time it would take for me to be away from home. I thought about Isaac being on his own with the little girl and although he adored her, I knew he would be useless at feeding and toileting and it was at that moment I thought to get in touch with Frau Kupenberg in the hopes that she might be able to oblige, but when I telephoned her she was hesitant for a while and I couldn‘t understand why. I knew she liked looking after Freya when she was last with us and I asked her why there was such a delay in her reply.

“I have had a little trouble since I last saw you, Mrs. Gutfeld . . . May I call you Hilda?”

I assured her she could indeed call me Hilda and that I would rather she did that as Mrs. Gutfeld seemed so foreign when we knew each other so well and she continued to speak in a strained voice. I thought she might have a cold, but she assured me she was alright but there was another worry on her mind,

“I have been in trouble with the police, Hilda. You see, I went to a young lady who wanted an abortion . . . and I did all I could for her, but she bled a lot more than was usual in these cases and she reported me to the police for abusing her.”

I was upset when Frau Kupenberg told me this and she asked me to call her by her Christian name which was Bertha, before she continued to say that she had been allowed home after the police had taken her statement and she was awaiting further news of what might happen to her. I told her how sorry I was and that I could understand why she could not come to look after Freya, but she insisted that she could come as the call we made was nothing to do with midwifery and that the police had not instructed her to remain indoors until they got in touch with her again, so everything was put to rights, except for the situation with Isaac when I told him of my plans.

“Why the hell did you ask that old witch to come to look after Freya. You know she is an interfering old busy-body,” he shouted and I tried to calm him into realizing the importance and necessity of Bertha’s visit, but he scowled all the more and huddled himself into the old settee. “She tried to tell me how to look after Freya when she was here, but she doesn’t know what she is talking about,” Isaac went on and I couldn’t understand what he was talking about until he explained the occasion of Bertha’s last visit and she apparently scolded Isaac for cuddling the little girl

“Perhaps you were cuddling Freya in some wrong or difficult way” I suggested and after a few moments Isaac started to laugh. He laughed so heartily that I had to join him and then he told me that he had been kissing Freya’s little feet with her head ON HIS KNEES. . . “I call her Freya twinkle toes . . . that’s her name, FREYA, TWINKLE TOES . . .” he said and continued to laugh.

Was it any wonder that Bertha had corrected my lovely and adoring husband . . .I ask you.

Bertha did come as arranged and I was able to go to Berlin with a clear mind that my little girl would be looked after and cuddled THE RIGHT WAY UP . . .

I started off early in the morning and expected to be in Berlin by lunch time, but at one of the railway station that we passed, we were held up for a long time and I saw a group of soldiers pushing a young couple up the platform and into a waiting room. They were there for some considerable time before they came out again and I could see that the woman was crying and the man who was with her had bruises around his head. Everyone in the train looked on in horror before some of them stood up and shouted ‘Heil Hitler’ out of the carriage window, but I sat down and started to read a newspaper that I found on the seat when I came into the train that morning. I found it impossible to read for the noise of the other passengers, but fortunately it was only a short time before we arrived at the main station in Berlin and with the knowledge I had been given by Isaac, I soon found the barracks and the hospital where to my great surprise I was welcomed by a group of young men in uniform, where one of them escorted me to the hospital. It was a dark, sombre looking place with several beds but I could see no patients until suddenly an arm came out from behind a bedsheet and I could hear Franz calling my name.

The union was magic for both of us and I hugged my son with a tenderness and devotion that perhaps only a mother and her child would understand, but I cried with joy even if I found Franz to be very weak and pale. He assured me he was well, but I expected that from him as Franz was known never to complain, even if as a child he got cold or flu . . . Franz was always well. . .

After about ten minutes, a young man came rushing up towards the bed and thrust his hand out in friendship towards me and I guessed this was the Adolf friend that Isaac had told me about. He was indeed a very nice young man and even although he was in the uniform of the Hitler Youth, I could never imagine that this young person could ever acclaim an older and more dignified Adolf as his saviour. . . Very soon when we had been talking for a while I realized that every young man who was recruited into the Hitler Youth Organisation was anything but an admirer of our great Fuhrer and they were soldiers by HIS choice and not their own.

When I asked Adolf why there were so many empty beds in the ward, he declined to answer immediately before he turned to look at Franz and then he told me that nearly everyone in the barracks could verify to be A1 in health and therefore there was hardly any need for a hospital at all, but he did add that one young man had been in the ward only a week ago and that he had been transferred to another hospital . . . I said nothing in response to that, but I remembered what Isaac had told me that just a little while ago a young soldier had died in the hospital and no-one could explain the cause of his death.

Franz seemed very content, but I noticed that he was very much more quiet than he ever used to be. He was always a retired and gentle boy at home and he could laugh and joke with the rest of us, but as he lay in his hospital bed, I had the most grievous thoughts going through my mind; thoughts that I did not like to have; thoughts of a pending disaster and I shook my head trying to dismiss what was in my mind.

I spent nearly two hours with Franz and Adolf and was very glad that my son had such a good companion to visit him so regularly . . . otherwise that ward would have been like a tomb.

As I was leaving the hospital ward, I invited Adolf to come to Duisburg and stay with us for a few days, but he simply smiled and shook his head. “We would not be allowed that pleasure”, he said, “This is a military school where everyone thinks of nothing but war with Britain and eternal security and peace in the Fatherland,” but as he spoke I could see sadness in his eyes and I thought he was more like a prisoner than a soldier in this barracks where everyone thought of nothing or nobody but Adolf Hitler.

I left the hospital with a heavy heart and wished I could have taken Franz home with me, but I knew that was impossible. It was a longer and wearier journey home and I cried all the way. Isaac and the boys were at the station to greet me, but after the enquiries about Franz, Isaac asked me if anything was said about the young boy who had been discharged from the hospital about a week before his visit there, but I had no substantial answer to give him and we trudged home to meet Bertha and our lovely little Freya.

Bertha was delighted to see me and congratulated herself on being released from any charges at the police station. Apparently the young woman who had the abortion was told by a close friend . . .(possibly the father) that if she made a fuss and complained, there were no witnesses and she could claim quite a large sum of money in compensation. Bertha was overjoyed as her career as a midwife could have come to a very slippery end and she would never be able to practise her trade again. Bertha was very near retirement age and she needed all the money she could get when she was able to work as she had no idea what she would be able to do when her working days would be over. I told her that we would always need a baby-sitter as I winked at Isaac and Bertha interpreted my action as if to say I was going to have lots more babies . . . and she would never be out of a job, but my thoughts were tender and affectionate towards my children and my lovely if very excitable husband, but I prayed to God and asked Him not to let me have any more children as I was sure I had had enough by that time and with war pending, nobody thought we were living in the perfect world where children were a blessing.