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31 |Friedrichshain People’s Park Berlin, Nazi Germany
Joachim sat up in the tree, a favorite hiding spot of his in the park near their new home. He had discovered it the first week they had been there while exploring with his brother. Their new home was large, far larger than their previous, and in a part of the city where he knew no one.
He had hated it.
But once he had realized how important his father’s new position was, and how powerful he had become within the SS, the organization he once dreamed of serving in, perhaps for the great Himmler himself, he had softened to the idea of living here.
Yet he still found it hard to make friends.
The school year was just about to begin, but the Hitler Youth went strong all year round, especially during the summer, where he thrived. His was an elite unit, filled with the sons of senior officers, and he quickly learned he was nothing special, as his father was merely one of many colonels in the organization.
School would be a different story. There he might not be at the top in the hierarchy fathers brought, but he’d be close, and certainly far higher than most.
There he would gain the respect he deserved, and once he finished university, he’d be an officer, and with his father’s rank and contacts, he’d work his way up quickly.
You have to volunteer for the front.
It was the quickest way for advancement. Prove your bravery, your capability, your willingness to serve and die for the Führer, and you’d soon find yourself a senior officer.
His stomach growled.
Yet none of that was possible now.
And who was he kidding? He was a coward.
He had shot that bastard corporal, yes, but he had done it with his eyes closed, tossing the gun moments after firing as he ran off into the night, sobbing.
Real soldiers don’t cry.
He wasn’t officer material.
He wasn’t even corporal material.
He was nothing. A pathetic coward who had run away crying, rather than standing proudly over the body of the vanquished enemy that had dared embarrass his family.
He had found his perch quickly, losing whoever was pursuing him when the air raid had begun. Oddly, the thought of dying from bombs dropped by Allied aircraft overhead never bothered him. It would be a waste to die like that, though it never troubled him. His attitude might change if he actually saw any bomb damage, as where they lived hadn’t suffered any as of yet. It angered him to no end that the Allies would dare bomb his city, the capital of the great Third Reich, and beating heart of what would soon be the greatest empire the world had ever known.
Yet it wouldn’t be led by people like him, people who vomited at the mere thought of having killed a man, despite his guilt.
He groaned as his stomach rumbled again.
I’m starving.
The city was alive around him. People strolled through the park, some under the very tree that was now his hiding place, and the sounds of cars and trucks going about their business as if last night’s events hadn’t occurred had lulled him to sleep on more than one occasion.
What are you going to do?
He couldn’t go home. Not with what he now knew. They were all traitors, liars, deceivers. If he were to go home, it would be to rescue his brother from the clutches of those who would call themselves loyal to their Führer.
Yet it was too dangerous.
He could only think of one thing to do. Report his deed to the SS. After all, it was one of theirs he had killed, and they should know exactly why he had done it, then report what he had discovered about his family. They deserved it for what they had done.
His stomach flipped as he pictured his mother, smiling, his brother giggling, and his father reviewing paperwork at his desk.
They’ll all die.
Yet shouldn’t they?
He gasped.
I’ll die!
He shook his head, refusing to believe it. They don’t kill for that. Not the children. His parents, possibly. His father would lose his position, certainly, though deservedly so. He had lied, he had hidden the truth. He couldn’t be trusted with the position he had been granted.
Would they kill his mother?
They might. It was ultimately her fault, wasn’t it?
He wasn’t sure. Certainly his father played a part, did he not?
He sighed.
Why did I have to see that photo?
He closed his eyes. Life had been so much simpler yesterday, his future planned out, and now he was losing it all, all because of something that wasn’t his fault.
He growled.
He had to reclaim his future.
He had to take responsibility for his actions, and hope that his actions would be praised by those superior to him, that he’d be given a second chance, perhaps adopted by another family that could be trusted to serve the Führer, with no secrets to hide, no lies to tell.
No love to give him.
His eyes burned, his heart ached, and he grabbed his knees, pulling them close to his chest.
What am I going to do?
“Hey, you there!”
He flinched, enough to lose his balance and fall from his perch, hitting several branches on the way down before coming to a painful halt as he was caught by the unforgiving ground.
A police officer in his green uniform towered over him. “Are you all right, boy?”
He groaned, not entirely sure.
Hands roamed his body and he winced a few times, though there were no yelps that might indicate something broken. He was hauled to his feet.
“What’s your name?”
“Joachim.”
“Joachim what?”
“Konrad.”
“Konrad?” The officer’s eyes narrowed and he pulled out his notebook, flipping through it. “Ahh, I thought so. You’re the boy who ran away from home last night. Your parents are worried sick about you.”
“They’re not my parents. Not anymore.”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
Joachim realized this wasn’t the man to tell his secret to. He needed to talk to someone in the SS. He shoved his hands on his hips. “Take me to Reichsführer Himmler.”
The officer tossed his head back, roaring with laughter. “Oh, sure, and after that, how about I take you to see the Führer!” He grabbed Joachim by the arm and led him from the park. “Before your meeting with Himmler, I think we’ll make sure your parents approve.”
Joachim tried to break free, but the grip was like iron. He finally saw no choice. “I killed someone.”
And with those three words, everything changed.