Vienna
April 1937
I watched Venice slide away as the train carried us toward Austria and our elusive great-aunt Margaret. It seemed impossible that our trip had gone so quickly, and I found myself wishing we could be on the road longer, exploring more of Europe together. And yet, as the train raced toward the distant snowcapped mountains, my thoughts turned to the kind gentleman from the Queen Mary, Mr. Klein, and his palpable fear of what might be waiting for him in Austria. I also remembered Matthias’s parting words: Be careful in Austria. There are sure to be Nazi soldiers afoot, and if the rumors are to be believed, they look for any reason to cause trouble.
I’d read several German newspapers and reports about the Nazi Party, highlighting passages and taking notes in the evenings, trying to understand Hitler’s ideology. His persecution of Jewish people was chilling. He’d even stated outright the very thing many Austrians feared: that the German-speaking country should be annexed to Germany. I thought about the fascist propaganda pamphlets and antifascist posters I’d collected in Venice, and wondered how long it would be before Hitler or Mussolini made a move.
The train rattled on through the night, and at dawn, I awoke with a start. It had been a restless sleep in the cramped quarters of the express train we’d been forced to take when we’d changed our plans. As Clara slid from her bunk, she glanced down at her dress and laughed. Neither of us had changed into our nightwear, and now she looked like a wadded-up tissue.
I stretched and stood, wondering if Daniel had slept better in his bunk a few cars away. It was fitting that he would complete the journey with us, although it was far nicer not to be followed in secret.
I peered through the window to catch the sunrise. We had already crossed the border from Italy into Austria, but still had some way to go, Vienna being closer to Austria’s borders with Czechoslovakia and Hungary than with Italy. Thick forest stretched over the alpine mountains, the peaks still dusted with snow. In the distance, a lake glistened beneath the morning sun. Austria was so much more inviting than I’d expected and entirely unlike the other places we’d visited. I’d pictured the country as cold and sterile, not lush and beautiful and alive. I regretted instantly that our journey would soon end, without much time to explore.
Eventually, we arrived at the train station in Vienna. As I stepped onto the platform and stretched my aching limbs, Daniel appeared and wished me good morning.
He took his own luggage and helped the porter with Clara’s enormous trunks.
“I’ll see you at the hotel, later?” he asked.
I nodded. “We can make a plan for lunch or something?”
“Perfect.” He planted a kiss on my cheek, eliciting a smile from Clara and a warm flush across my face.
Daniel was gracious enough to give me and Clara the time we needed together, and although Clara enjoyed teasing me about my boyfriend, I was keen to prove to her that I was no different for enjoying his company, and his affections.
The taxicab set out for the hotel Violet had arranged for us, Clara having firmly ignored the message from Charles and his instruction for her to abandon me and join him at a different hotel. I thought of nothing but a strong cup of coffee and a brisk walk through the city to shake off my tiredness. Traveling, I’d discovered, was filled with adventure and excitement, but it also wore me out.
“Do you think we should send a telegram to Margaret to warn her before we visit tomorrow?” I asked. “As a courtesy? Maybe she’ll be more likely to see us if we give her time to prepare.”
Clara shook her head. “I think we should go without any warning. She’ll know what we’ve come to discuss and may turn us away. Violet warned us this would be the most difficult of the three visits. She hasn’t seen Margaret for so many years. Remember how strained Violet said it was between them when Margaret had last visited America?”
“She doesn’t sound like the type to bury grievances easily, does she?” I said.
“She doesn’t, but I hope we can persuade her.”
Lost in thought, I watched the city of Vienna speed by through the window: the half-timbered houses with lattice frameworks; the famed Theater an der Wien, where Beethoven’s Fifth and Sixth Symphonies had once premiered; and the lush Danube River that twisted through the heart of the city in one long, green-gray ribbon. I couldn’t help noticing how different the architecture was from the buildings in France and Italy. I imagined Daniel would be noticing the same.
Daniel. It surprised me, the way my thoughts turned so easily to him. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversations, relishing his thoughts about topics from working women to the best plate of pasta in New York. His view of the world was bright, optimistic. He inspired me, but I worried what the future would bring when our lives returned to normal and we went our separate ways—and that was only a few days away. I wasn’t certain where Daniel would be in that mix, or if I even wanted him to be a part of things in any real way. Perhaps this was a holiday romance, just as Matthias had been for Violet, and I should leave it at that.
When we reached the Freyung, home to some of the oldest Christmas markets in the world, several policemen stepped in front of the flow of traffic and promptly set up wooden barriers.
Our driver came to a sudden stop.
Across the square, a makeshift stage had been set up, and around it, dozens of people were gathering.
“What’s happening?” Clara asked.
“It looks like some sort of show,” I replied, squinting to make out the signs.
The crowd parted, making way for a row of soldiers in gray uniforms, marching in unison. In an orderly fashion, they stationed themselves on either side of the stage.
I leaned forward in my seat. “Are they Nazi soldiers?”
At my question, the driver glanced over his shoulder and in heavily accented English said, “Yes. The Nazis. They meet, stop traffic. Make a mess of things.”
I returned my attention to the scene outside, fascinated to see one of the rallies I’d read so much about. The crowd pushed closer to the stage as two soldiers climbed the steps. In their hands, they raised a red-and-white flag with a black swastika, the symbol of the Nazi Party. A sense of injustice burned through me as I thought about everything I’d read, and how they didn’t accept Jewish people, or anyone else who failed to support their cause. This wasn’t even their country, and they were trying to stake their claim.
Our driver swore under his breath as policemen blew whistles and gestured aggressively for us to turn around. We managed to make a U-turn, narrowly missing the wooden barriers. As we rode away from the square, I turned to peer out of the back window.
In that instant, the roar of voices reverberated against the buildings behind us, and the crowd saluted as several more soldiers made their way to the stage.
The sight left a bad taste in my mouth and yet I itched to document what we’d seen. I glanced at Clara. Her face was etched with concern.
“That was disturbing,” she said.
“Very,” I agreed, my mind already racing.
It had taken all my resolve not to rush from the car and see what was happening up close. If I came across another rally, I would do exactly that.
A somber mood settled over us as we drove the rest of the way to the hotel, contemplating what we’d just seen. The headlines I’d read for months were no longer words on a page, but real. Dangerous. And whether or not Clara read the papers as often as I did, she sensed it, too. I could see it in her clenched jaw.
As the taxicab pulled up outside our hotel, I turned to her.
“How about we unpack our things and then go for a walk? See a little of the city and clear our heads.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Grateful to be staying some distance away from the Nazi rally we’d just seen, we enjoyed a long walk through the wide avenues and pretty side streets, and beside the river, stopping to buy gifts for Violet and Mother. We ended our first evening in Vienna with a satisfying dinner of bratwurst and sauerkraut, and a glass of slivovitz, a popular plum brandy. In the morning, we would visit Margaret, and while I looked forward to meeting our elusive great-aunt, I found myself on edge. The pinnacle of our trip had come at last, and I worried it wouldn’t bring about the reunion Violet so dearly hoped for.