| |
Paris, France February 1942
Frieda Meyer was preparing beef bourguignon, while little Wolfe and Elsa played tag around her in the kitchen. Frieda could hear Herr Major and Frau Konig arguing in the sitting room of their large apartment. She couldn’t quite hear what they were discussing. She decided to wait until things calmed down before setting the dining room table.
After the dinner table was set, Frau Konig instructed Frieda to bring the children to the table and serve dinner. Frieda helped the children wash their hands and faces, then brought them into the dining room. She served dinner while Herr Major asked the children about their day. Frau Konig’ face was flushed and she could not disguise her anxiety.
Once the children were excused, Frieda had them wash up again and sent them to their shared bedroom to get into their nightclothes. She brought them in to give their parents a goodnight kiss, then she took them into the bedroom to tuck them in for the night.
When she came back downstairs, Frau Konig asked Frieda to join them in the sitting room for a few minutes.
Major Konig said, “We have some difficult things we must discuss with you.” Frieda stiffened, expecting to be let go. “The war is getting more dangerous in France, now that the United States has joined the fight. My logistics command has started to prepare for a potential allied invasion on the French coast. Because of this, Frau Konig and I have agreed that she and the children will return to Berlin.”
Frieda was trying hard not to burst into tears. With a quivering voice, she asked, “Will I be returning with them, Herr Major?”
“No, I’m afraid not. You see, it isn’t safe for you in Berlin anymore. The German High Command has been increasing its efforts to remove all Jews from Germany, as well as from the new German territories.”
“But my parents... I haven’t received any letters from them in more than two months.”
“Frau Konig will inquire about your parents when she gets to Berlin. They may no longer be allowed to use the mail service. Or, maybe they are traveling out of Germany. We’ll try to find out.”
“But what will I do? Where will I go?”
“Don’t worry. You will remain here and continue to cook for me and keep house, if that’s agreeable to you. I’ll pay you the same wage.”
Frieda felt uneasy about the whole situation, but what other choice did she have? A sixteen year-old girl couldn’t just live on her own in a foreign country. She didn’t even speak any French. “I will continue to keep house here, Herr Major. Thank you.”