Opposite Sides (76 page)

It had been just over an
hour when a figure from the distance made a definite pathway
towards her. It was a young woman in her mid-twenties. She wore a
brown felt hat slightly tilted to the left. As she got nearer, Jan
smiled a little uneasily and picked up her large parcel. The woman
spoke to her in very good English.

“
Guten
Tag
.
Staff-sister
nurse Turner?”

“
Yes.”

“
I’m Ilke
Horsch.”

They shook
hands.

Very
formal
, thought Jan.

“
Sorry I’m
late. Come with me. You can stay with my family. But we have to be
very careful. There are so many spying eyes and talking tongues.
It’s dangerous. There are soldiers and guns everywhere.” Ilke
handed over a grey coat for Jan to put on over her British nurse’s
jacket. “This makes you look like one of us. It makes you a lot
warmer. Hopefully, we won’t be stopped and checked.”

“
What do we
do with this?” Jan indicated the parcel.

“
I hold it.
See, very close.”

“
It’s food
for you and your family. I hope I did the right thing.”

“
Danke
schön
!
It is most
kind. We have not much food. Thank you.”

They walked through the
damaged streets, making their way down Unter den Linden where, Ilke
told her, they could help from another contact who would help them
to get to one of the suburbs where Ilke and her family lived. Jan
noted that many people walked so wearily, dragging sorry little
wooden carts behind them. They picked their way between the narrow
pathways of cleared rubble, making their way past damaged buildings
and tortured wall remains shrouded in a thousand pitiful notices
together with the mute, staring faces of the missing and
dead.

“
We are at
our next meeting place . . . almost there.” Ilke pointed ahead. “My
brother has made already inquiries for you.”

‘
Has he found
out anything? Anything at all?”

“
Not yet. We
will try still.”

A young man, guarding
three precious bikes, was seen leaning against one of the street
lampposts. He waved to them as they approached. After a short
introduction, the young man led them through Mitte and on to
Berliner Strasse where Ilke and her family were living.

There were tanks and
soldiers everywhere but luck was on their side, for they were able
to make the journey without the customary checks. Ike’s brother,
Odo, spoke hastily with his sister for several minutes. Ilke
reported that Odo had stressed that Jan should take great care
moving around anywhere within the ruined city, for every day there
were more stories of people disappearing, never to be heard of
again. Jan’s English papers might help but, on the other hand, she
should not have risked crossing the border into the Russian sector
at all.

Early next morning, Ilke
took Jan to one of the damaged office buildings which had become a
headquarters of sorts for information regarding lost people. As
this was not an official site, Ilke felt that they would receive
more sympathy for Jan’s plight. The woman behind the desk wrote
down details, shook her head and pinned yet another name on the
crowded wall. One more missing person among the hundreds, even
thousands. One extra person trying to achieve the impossible: to
find a friend, relative or loved one; the same drama taking place
throughout any of the big cities of Europe as people try to repair
their shattered lives. Jan had not realised the enormity of the
problem: almost a half of the city’s population trying to find
friends or relations. It was worse than trying to find that needle
hidden in the haystack.

Every day was the same.
Bread with some sort of warm drink for breakfast and then out, Ilke
asking, asking, asking until utterly exhausted and cold, the pair
returned home to the warmth and safety of the little ground-floor
apartment. The top of the building had been damaged and nobody was
able to occupy most of the rooms that were there. Ilka had spoken
to the others in the building and each one had promised to mention
anything that may prove of help.

On the last day Ilka took
Jan back to the streets around Unter den Linden, so that she was
close enough to make the return border crossing that afternoon.
They had decided to take shelter inside the museum, when they were
approached by an elderly man in a thick, black woollen overcoat. He
had been studying them for some time, listening to their hushed
conversation. He spoke softly to them in very slow English, taking
great pains to find the foreign words.

“
Excuse, lady
. . . you English?”

Ilke motioned to Jan to
remain quiet. It could be a trap. The man switched to
German.

“
Are you
looking for a man who came here from the west?”

Ilke spoke in a low,
quiet voice.

“
Why? Do you
know something?”

The man continued. He did
not speak loudly and kept glancing over his shoulder as he spoke to
them.

“
A man
¨C
had the mannerisms of
a military man, an officer. He told me he’d come from the west. He
was trying to find his child.”

“
We are
looking for a man who is looking for a child. His name’s Herr
Resmel. Did he give you a name?”

“
Maybe. I
think he did.” The man rubbed his chin. He looked around for a
minute or two before facing Ilke again. “Sorry, I can’t be sure.
But he did say he’d come here from the west. Been a prisoner of
war. His wife and child lived around here for a time. His child’s
missing.”

Ilke translated for Jan,
then questioned the man further.

“
When did he
speak with you?”

The man looked beyond
both of them as he tried to recall the moment.

“
It was . . .
it was . . . er, just before Christmas. Yes, then. Not so long
ago.”

“
What did he
say? Can you remember?”

“
We met here.
Near the bridge. Like this. He said he was looking for a little boy
. . . three or four years old. He showed me a photo of a child not
more than two. Said his name was Siege . . . ”

Jan interrupted. She did
not wait for a translation. There was excitement and urgency in her
voice.

“
Siege.
Siegmund Resmel. It must have been Hans!”

The man in the dark coat
looked at her in surprise. He spoke directly to Jan in English once
more.

“
Yes.
Siegmund. Yes. I . . . ”

The man tapped his
forehead and nodded. Jan implored Ilke to ask him more.

Was he staying in
Berlin?”

“
No.”

“
Did he say
where he was going?”

Again, Ilke translated.
The man made some wild gesturing movements and pointed northwards.
Then, he spoke quickly so quickly, Ilke had trouble keeping the
translation going.

“
He said he’d
heard a rumour that a child of that name had been seen on a notice
board somewhere, north of the city. Angermunde, I recall. He said
he was heading off in that direction.” Ilke frowned as she looked
directly at Jan. “You said that when he was a baby he and his
mother lived in Neubrandenburg?”

“
Yes,” Jan
replied. “"Her parents lived in Ang-mung, or something. I sort of
know the name as there’s an Angmering in Sussex and the names are
quite similar.”

“
That could
be it!” Ilke was finding that Jan’s building excitement was
contagious. She threw her arms into the air with enthusiasm and
then took the stranger’s hands and began to shake them most
violently. “
Danke schön
! Thank you! Thank you so much.” She let his hands go but did
not notice how the bemused man shook and rubbed his fingers to get
some sort of normality back into them. Ilke turned to Jan. “What
extraordinary luck bumping into someone like this.”

The man smiled and had
relaxed somewhat again. He was prepared to practise his English
some more.

“
I walk here
often. Before the war I work in the university.” He pointed to a
building across the road. “There it was I worked. I like here stand
to think over the good days. I visit since then the museums. A
great pastime of mine, er, before the war. Now, it is much
difficult. We are watched.” His eyes swept past the two women again
before he continued the conversation. “ I wish you both
luck.”

“
Thank you.”
Jan smiled and nodded slightly.

The man reached into the
depths of one of his deep pockets and pulled out pen and paper and
began writing. This time he reverted to German and spoke only to
Ilke.

“
Here is my
name and address. Tell the lady I can be contacted at this address.
I’d like to know what happens, especially if she finds them.” He
faced Jan and touched her gently on her arm as he dropped into
English again. “You are careful. Watch all the time. Things are
here yet very, very danger.”

He glanced furtively
around in all directions before handing his note to Ilke, wished
them both a fruitful search again and scuttled away to merge into
the greyness of the cold, winter city street.

In a couple of hours Jan
would have to return to the west. The two women wandered for a
while along the banks of the river. Ilke took Jan to one of the few
remaining places where they could buy a hot soup. As they stood
sipping the hot liquid, Ilke promised Jan that she would head north
of the city and find out what she could. Meanwhile, with east-west
relations deteriorating further, Jan’s only hope of hearing any
more news, was to apply for a second pass into the eastern sector a
few weeks before her service in Germany came to an end.

“
If you’re
intending returning to the eastern sector,” the Commander of the
British Occupying forces told Jan, “we’d better make sure the
Russians understand that you’re one of our personnel and that we
expect you back in one piece. There have been really nasty stories
floating about regarding their treatment of some of the civilians.
The way their lot treated the Ruskies, I’m not really surprised
but, all the same, we don’t want you getting messed with any of
that. We’ll make things very official. It’ll be safer that
way.”

The paperwork increased
as permission was sought for the second excursion. This time Jan
had asked for six days in the hope of making a journey deeper into
the Soviet zone. She was briefed on the risks and also given papers
which would enable her to bring either Hans or Siegmund out from
behind the Iron Curtain. Everyone hoped the papers would be
honoured and that her mission would prove fruitful.

Jan, in her nurse’s
military uniform, stood at the border anxiously waiting for her
papers to be verified and stamped. This time, things would be more
official and her time the other side would be constantly monitored
by the Russian authorities. She had agreed to meet with Ilke at the
damaged museum and catch up with any extra information Ilke had
managed to find. But there had been a few weak leads and Ilke
apologised for her failure. This time the two would not be left
alone, for the Russians had demanded a military escort. All
arrangements had been made.

“
Sorry. I’m
so sorry. I couldn’t get to Angermunde. People are still
disappearing. But, I’ve been told that a major was making inquiries
around the town. Sounds like your Herr Resmel.”

“
Thank you,
Ilke, for trying. I could ask to be taken there. I just hope he’s
still around.”

“
I hope so,
for your sake.” Ilke removed her gloves and held out her arms. The
two women hugged each other as though they had been friends for
many years “Good luck with your search, Nurse Janine.” Ilke smiled
deeply. “Do call for me, if I can again help you.”

Jan handed over another
food parcel and the two parted. Jan stood watching as her new
friend hurried down the steps, and with a wave of her hand, merged
into the moving backdrop of Berlin’s survivors. Her Russian escort,
a military man in his thirties, opened the back door of the car
which had been commandeered for the journey, and immediately
settled himself down into the driver’s seat. It was an official
journey. The small red flag above the bonnet fluttering gently in
the light breeze indicated that this was an official vehicle with
the authority to travel unheeded throughout the occupied
zone.

“
It take
little time,” he commented as he turned his body slightly in her
direction. “But, I get you there.”

Jan settled back into her
seat and gazed, submerged in her own private thoughts, as the car
wound its way through the streets and headed north-bound away from
the city centre. They were forced to stop several times to make way
for troop convoys or small groups of manoeuvring tanks. The entire
countryside had the feeling of one huge armed camp and even though
Jan was under escort, she still felt apprehension. Her driver had
not spoken since she had entered the vehicle and without some form
of communication, she felt vulnerable and alone.

After three hours, they
arrived at Angermunde. Everywhere there were Russian troops. The
inhabitants watched them in suspicious silence. The car pulled up
outside the old Rathaus, draped with a large Russian flag and
guarded by four Russian soldiers.