IN THE WOLFF’S LAIR

We stepped into Gestapo Headquarters; the place that had haunted my sleep. The hallway was long and wide, but felt cramped like a coffin. With just a dim light at the far end, the wood-panelled walls closed around us as if they were going to crush us.

Wolff came in on our heels, the door banged shut and my heart thumped hard. It was beating so fast I was afraid it might burst.

‘Straight ahead.’ Wolff was like a devil lurking behind us and I tried not to imagine that hideous grin. ‘Go on.’

Our boots clicked on the black tiles and echoed in that dark space as we made our way deeper into the heart of my nightmare. A strong smell of disinfectant swirled about us, thick and suffocating, but underneath it I could smell something else.

Dirt and sweat and fear.

Terrible things had happened here; things I couldn’t even imagine.

My heart pounded and blood swooshed in my ears. I felt weak, and a lump rose in my throat as if I were going to be sick. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. I wanted to turn around and beg for my life. But I told myself to be strong.

Like Stefan.

‘Stop there,’ Wolff ordered, and for a moment, there was no sound, as if we might be the only people in the building.

He paused behind us, breathing heavily, then came forward and opened the first door on the left. ‘Inside.’

I could tell right away that his was his place – his lair – because it reeked of tobacco and his aftershave.

‘Stand there.’ Wolff pointed to the centre of the room, and we did as instructed while he took a seat behind the desk.

He said nothing as he settled into his chair and pulled open a drawer to take out a packet of cigarettes, which he placed on the desktop. They were the same brand he had taken from Oma and Opa’s kitchen cupboard. He adjusted the packet so it was exactly straight, the bottom end parallel with the edge of the desk, then placed a gold lighter beside it. He spent a few moments lining them up so they were perfect.

The only other things on the desk were an empty glass ashtray, a small Nazi flag on a stand in one corner, a pen, which was in line with the packet of cigarettes and the lighter, and a brown file with the name ‘Stefan Friedmann’ written on it.

When everything was in place, he opened a drawer to his left and took out two more brown files. He set them on the desk in front of him, then put two forms on top of them and closed the drawer.

The lid of his pen clicked when he removed it, and the nib scratched on the white forms as he wrote.

We waited in silence, shaking with fear, and when he had finished, he turned the papers around and held out the pen.

‘Sign here.’ He pointed with his finger at the bottom of the form. ‘Now.’

I stepped forward and took the pen. My hand shook as I signed.

‘Good. Now you.’ He held the pen out to Lisa, and she did as she was told.

When it was done, Wolff wrote our names on the folders, one for each of us, and slipped the forms inside. He put the folders on top of Stefan’s, then sat back.

‘My job is not always an easy one.’ He steepled his fingers and leaned his elbows on the desk. ‘I don’t have anywhere near enough officers for all the work that is building up. There are just so many people to investigate. I have a room here filled with files like these.’ He tapped the folders and his gaze flicked from Lisa’s face to mine, and when he looked at me, I couldn’t help averting my eyes. I lowered them and stared at the threadbare red carpet.

‘Would you like to be me?’ he sighed. ‘Trying to keep order?’

I didn’t reply.

‘I’m asking you a question, Karl Friedmann.’

I looked up and shook my head.

‘I thought not.’

There wasn’t much furniture in the room; just the desk and the seat he was sitting in. There was a bookcase along the wall to my left, but it was empty. The wall to my right was panelled with dark wood and, exactly in the centre of it, hung a portrait of the Führer looking serious.

‘You have both just signed a D-11. It is an “Order for Protective Custody”.’

Lisa took a sharp breath and I wanted to reach out and hold her hand.

‘That means you are mine. You belong to me until I sign a release form. So now I have to decide what to do with you.’ Wolff snatched up the packet of cigarettes and took one out. He used the gold lighter, flicking it once to ignite a small flame, then leaned back and blew smoke into the air. It streamed across his desk and settled around us like poisonous cloud.

‘At least I’m closer to finding all the Edelweiss Pirates in my town.’ He pointed at me. ‘Your brother gave me a few names after a bit of persuasion. He didn’t mention yours though.’

‘The leaflet was mine,’ I said. My throat was dry and my legs were trembling, but I didn’t want to be afraid any more. I wanted to be angry, and the way he was talking made it easier than I thought.

‘I know it was yours.’ Wolff looked pleased with himself. ‘But it was your brother I wanted. Now you’ve decided to follow in his footsteps, though, I have the problem of what I am going to do with you.’

‘Let us go home,’ Lisa said. ‘We won’t do it again.’

‘Oh, you’re right about that.’ Wolff nodded. ‘You most certainly won’t do it again.’ He leaned back in his seat. The room was beginning to fill with grey smoke. It floated about, catching in the light from the chandelier, mingling with the sickly smell of Wolff’s aftershave.

‘We’re sorry,’ Lisa said. ‘Very sorry.’

‘And you?’ Wolff looked at me. ‘Are you sorry?’

I wanted to say it, to make him sign a release form and let us go, to get Lisa away from here, but something told me that he wouldn’t just let us go. And I wasn’t sorry. I was glad I had done it.

‘I thought not.’ Wolff took a deep breath and stared at me. ‘Open the bag.’ He pointed with the cigarette. ‘I want to see what you have in there.’

I slipped the bag from my shoulder and approached the desk.

‘Not on there,’ Wolff said. ‘Over there.’ He pointed towards the empty bookshelf, so I crossed the room and put the bag on the floor.

I crouched and removed the tin of white paint, the paintbrush, and my torch.

‘That’s it?’ Wolff asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Turn out your pockets.’

I took out the penknife Stefan and Mama bought for my birthday, put it on the floor beside my bag, then turned my pockets inside out so he could see they were empty.

‘You too.’ He looked at Lisa.

Lisa hesitated, then came to where I was standing. She pulled a rolled up paper bag from one pocket and placed it beside my penknife.

‘And what is in there?’ Wolff asked.

Lisa swallowed. ‘Sugar.’

Wolff clamped his teeth together so that his jaw bulged. ‘Were you planning on putting sugar in my fuel tank? Is this something you have done before?’

Lisa shook her head and I felt afraid for her.

‘Stand there.’ Wolff pointed his cigarette at the spot in front of his desk.

We obeyed, and without taking his eyes off me, Wolff sat forward and crushed the cigarette into the ashtray. He opened the desk drawer again and took out a leather strap which he folded over once and gripped tight in his fist before standing.

‘Put out your hand,’ Wolff snarled as he came around the desk toward us.

‘Please,’ Lisa said and there was terror in her eyes.

I felt it too. I felt the same terror that she felt, but I told myself to be strong. If Wolff was going to hit us, then it didn’t matter. I had been hit before; I would survive. Lisa would survive too. Wolff would sign our release forms and we would go home with sore hands and that would be it.

‘Put out your hand,’ Wolff said again, looking at Lisa. ‘NOW!’ He raised his voice so suddenly that my heart lurched and raced in my chest.

Lisa flinched away from him, squeezing her eyes shut, pushing tears onto her cheeks.

‘It’s all right,’ I whispered to her. ‘It’s all right.’

When she heard my voice, she opened her eyes and looked at me. Our gaze met and I forced myself to smile. I nodded so gently that I hardly moved, but Lisa understood what I was saying. We were in this together. We would be strong for each other.

Lisa nodded back and raised her arm. Her hand was clamped in a fist but, keeping her eyes on me, she opened it out so the palm was towards the ceiling.

Wolff came to stand in front of her.

He lifted the leather strap to shoulder level and paused.

Lisa stared right at me.

‘Perhaps I have a better idea,’ Wolff said, breaking the silence.

He lowered the strap and reached down to take my right hand. He forced the fingers apart and placed the strap across them before closing them into a fist so I was gripping the cold leather. ‘You do it,’ he said. ‘You hit her.’

‘What?’ I tore my eyes from Lisa’s and looked up at him.

‘You heard me.’

I looked back at Lisa, seeing the confusion in her expression.

‘You hit her,’ Wolff said.

Suddenly I had a vision of Johann Weber standing in front of me, the laces on his boxing gloves trailing, boys chanting at me to hit him. But nothing on earth would have made me hit Lisa.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I won’t do it.’ I threw the strap down on the carpet and stood as straight as I could.

For a moment, Wolff did nothing. Then he bent down to pick up the leather strap and he doubled it over once again. ‘Who knows you’re here?’ he asked. ‘I’m going to take a wild guess and say that no one knows. Am I right?’

We stayed silent.

‘I don’t think you quite understand how much trouble you’re in,’ Wolff said. ‘My soldiers are helping at Feldstrasse and no one knows you’re here. We are alone. You could just … disappear. Your mama will wake up in the morning and you will simply not be there. She’ll think you must have sneaked out in the night to see the bomb damage. Perhaps you got caught under falling rubble. Or maybe you went into a building and were burnt alive.’ He smiled. ‘Burnt alive. I like that. Maybe that’s the best thing for Edelweiss Pirates.’ He walked behind me. ‘That is what you are calling yourselves, isn’t it? Young criminals who hate Germany.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘We hate the war. We hate Nazis.’

‘You are a Nazi,’ Wolff sneered.

‘Not any more.’ I turned to look at the picture of the Führer. ‘My papa is dead because of him.’

‘Put out your hand.’

Straight away, I lifted my arm and opened my hand. I would not let him win. I would not give him the satisfaction of frightening me. I would not—

Swoosh-SLAP!

The whip of the leather strap cutting through the air and the noise of it striking my skin happened simultaneously. They were almost one sound. What followed was an agony that burst in my palm, burned through my fingers and seared across the back of my hand as the strap curled around.

The pain was enormous and it took my breath away. I clamped my mouth shut, my teeth grinding together, and tears came to my eyes, but I was not crying. I refused to cry.

Swoosh-SLAP!

The second was more painful than the first. It felt as if I had thrust my hand into the hottest fire imaginable and I was sure that if I looked down at it, I would see broken skin and blood.

Swoosh-SLAP!

The third was the worst. An awful explosion that blossomed in my palm and spread through my fingers, right up my wrist. It made my body cramp and my mind go blank. For a moment everything went white. Sparks seemed to erupt in the air between me and Lisa and I couldn’t help myself from crying out in pain.

I snatched my hand away and bent double, holding it to my stomach, smothering it against my jacket, searching for some way to stop the pain.

‘Stand up,’ Wolff said.

I gritted my teeth and straightened up, refusing to look at him. Instead, I looked at Lisa and tried to smile, to show her not to be worried. But the fear was clear on her face. She was afraid of what was coming next.

‘Be strong,’ I said to her, then I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to watch Wolff hit her.

When Wolff had finished, Lisa was holding her hand just as I was, but there was no way to make the pain go away.

‘It saddens me to see two young Germans like you dragged into the mess created by these criminals,’ Wolff said. It was warm in the room and there was a thin film of sweat on his brow that shone in the glare from the chandelier above him.

I looked up at him, letting him see the hatred in my eyes.

‘People like these Edelweiss Pirates get under your skin and tell you lies and make you believe them, but it’s the Führer who loves you,’ he said to me. ‘He loves all his children and he knows they will make Germany strong.’

‘He sent my papa to war,’ I said.

Wolff shook his head. ‘Your father went to war because he loved Germany and he wanted to make it strong. You shouldn’t believe what you read in leaflets that fall from the sky.’

‘Papa didn’t want to fight.’

‘Did your mother tell you that? Did she put those ideas in your head?’

‘No.’

‘Your brother, then, and those criminals he hangs about with. They say it’s just about long hair and music but they’re saboteurs,’ he said. ‘They attack the Hitler Youth, daub slogans on the walls. What will be next? Blowing things up? Murdering policemen? And now you listen to their lies,’ he said, going back to the seat behind the desk. ‘And I’m wondering what it is I can do to persuade you to be a good German.’ He sat down and looked at each of us in turn. ‘Perhaps some time away from home might do you both some good. I know of boot camps that are perfect for children like you.’

‘No.’ The word escaped Lisa’s lips before she could stop it.

‘No?’ Wolff turned to her. ‘You don’t want that?’

She shook her head.

‘You don’t want to go to a camp like your father did?’ he said, twisting the leather strap, making it creak. ‘You know, when I arrested him, he begged me to let him go, but I can’t have Communists wandering the streets. That’s almost as bad as having Jews running their dirty businesses on our doorsteps. Not to worry, though,’ he leaned back and smiled. ‘We won’t be hearing from him again for quite some time. Perhaps never.’

His last words were like deadly bullets. They took away any hope that Lisa might have had of seeing her papa, and her breath escaped her in one quick rush of air. Her body went limp and her knees buckled. Her legs gave way and she toppled like a felled tree.

I reacted quickly, reaching out to catch her as she collapsed. If I hadn’t been there, she would have fallen flat on her face. As it was, I wasn’t strong enough to stop her, and all I could do was slow her fall. Her weight took me down onto my knees.

When she opened her eyes, Lisa looked about as if she had forgotten where she was, then there was a flash of realisation and she turned onto her side, curled into a ball and began to sob.

‘I hate you,’ I said, looking up at Wolff. ‘I hate you.’

Wolff stood up, the leather strap still in his hand. ‘You two will spend the night in my cells while I decide what to do with you. And there’s something I want you to see. Something that might make you change your mind about what kind of German you want to be.’