The Secret of Lions (22 page)

I covered my sore nose with my hand. A
stream of blood ran from it. I didn't think it was broken, but it
hurt like hell.

“You are to forget your mother; she killed
herself. Remember? She never loved us. She never loved you. She
left us. We are alone. No more lions and no more paintings. Only
Germany matters. Only I matter,” he said.

Later on that day, Hitler was speaking to
one of his public advisors. He told him he didn't want Germans
reading books that were not pro-Aryan. And he didn't want them to
be plagued by art that wasn’t state approved. It was because of my
painting that the Nazis burned books and torched paintings.

It was my fault, my fault that my mother
killed herself. That was what he wanted me to think. And over the
next couple of years, he brainwashed me into believing it.

For years, I thought she’d killed herself
because of me.

Chapter
Eight

In the Forest of the Night

Warsaw, 1939

69

It was October, and the winter had begun to
show its snowy presence. The winds picked up on Europe’s eastern
front. Hitler, the German army, and I were together in the Polish
city of Warsaw. That fall, I’d turned fifteen. I almost completely
believed I was a full-blooded Aryan. Hitler had convinced me I was
his only son and that my name truly was Peter Hitler and not Willem
Kessler.

The truth was locked in my memory. And I
trusted every word Hitler told me. I learned every lesson. I had
become his replica. I was buried deep within my false identity.

Anna and I were engaged. Only her close
relatives and Hitler knew. His Italian friend, Anna’s father,
suggested that the two of us should be married. And since we were
close already, it did not bother either of us. I suspected that one
day I would marry her. Even though I didn't love her, not truly,
not in the sense of the word as I have come to understand it. At
the time I was convinced it was a good match. In many ways, I
wanted to marry Anna. No, Peter Hitler wanted to.

Hitler stood with his staff of SS guards,
soldiers, and fellow politicians. They overlooked the remains of
the Polish city. The city was ours. We had conquered it.

In terms of defeat, the citizens were much
harder to control than Hitler’s generals had predicted. Still some
rebel factions were spread out among the Polish communities.

Hitler’s Germany had stunned the world only
a month and a half earlier when they’d formed an agreement with
Russia. The two countries agreed not to go to war with each other.
This mandated Hitler’s plan to invade Poland. With no threat of
Russian retaliation, Germany could begin conquering its neighbors
and enemies. We were not afraid of anyone standing in our way.

Nightfall was near, and I could not wait. I
was going to see Anna. We had agreed to walk the city that night
and drink a bottle of wine she had stolen from her father’s
cabinet. It was a 1901 bottle from a winery in Italy I had never
heard of before. I was excited to see her.

At that moment, I stood near a journalist
who was snapping pictures of Hitler. The Führer stood with a pair
of binoculars looking out over a horizon filled with buildings and
crowded streets.

There was no truth in what he was doing. He
was merely playing to the camera. It was to show the German people
that our Führer was leading us to victory. It was the game of
politics. A published photograph of Hitler leading our military to
victory would make him look strong.

I looked out over the landscape and felt the
urge to paint. I had not painted in two years. My father had
instructed me to give up painting. He never said why. But I
suspected that painting was unbecoming of a soldier.

I could remember a time when my father had
encouraged my painting, but that stopped early on. It was some time
near my mother’s death, which at the time I remembered as a
suicide. The horrible truth of it was easy for Hitler to suppress
in my youthful mind.

After I stopped painting, I was expected to
take up more governmental studies. I still drew and painted in
secret. Hitler said that painting was a great gift, but I had more
important things to concentrate on.

“Peter, you return to the encampment,”
Hitler said. He handed the binoculars to a soldier standing next to
him and disappeared into the crowd of spectators and Nazis. He
shook hands as he walked away.

I looked down at the ground for a moment. My
shoes sank into the Polish soil. The Nazi army had fortified its
control over Poland. Hitler had committed the military to the
permanent occupation of Poland. A breeze swept around me and I
watched as particles of dirt wafted between my legs. Everything
seemed heavy to me. All of my thoughts, feelings, and worries
weighed heavy on my shoulders. I did not fully understand my
surroundings.

I turned and made my way back to the
encampment. I went into a building that used to be the capital
building in Warsaw. This building had become Hitler’s personal home
for our stay in the city. His SS police arrested the local mayor
and most of his staff. If there was a government official with an
office inside the federal building, it was confiscated, and he was
arrested. Sometimes they were shot in the street. Anyone who
resisted was shot, no questions asked.

Inside, the guards immediately recognized
and saluted me as they would a higher-ranking officer. I shared the
rank of an officer. It was my birthright. The Führer did not bestow
an official title on me, but the guards referred to me as Sohn des
Kanzlers. This meant “son of the Chancellor.”

I walked past them without acknowledging
them. I walked up the stairs and turned into the room Hitler had
set aside for me to sleep in. Anna was down the hall under the
guard of two SS police officers. Her access was limited at the
request of her father. She was allowed to go outside as long as she
was escorted. That night I would have to escort her out. For now,
she slept.

70

Nightfall shadowed over Warsaw. Outside the
window, a fog crept up to the sill of my room. The fog was tall
enough to make it up to the second floor of the federal building. I
opened my eyes and squinted in the shadowy darkness. I sat up and
furrowed my eyebrows. I yawned and stretched my arms. I got up and
closed the window.

One hour remained until midnight. Most of
the officers slept on cots. Others slept in neighboring buildings.
They were used to sleeping through heavy gunfire, including
artillery. No matter how much I endured, I could never sleep
through the sounds of gunfire. The noise made me uneasy. Even
though most of the army was asleep and the largest resistance had
been over for hours, shots still echoed throughout the city. The
Todesgruppen, or death squads, were still out rounding up Jews.

Tomorrow the infantry was scheduled to
finish putting up the brick wall in the city’s ghettos to
quarantine the Jewish population. Some of the wall was already up,
yet much of it was still under construction.

Tonight Anna and I would walk the streets
and watch the cleansing of the city.

I got dressed and opened the door. I entered
the hallway and noticed the number of guards that were posted had
depreciated since I’d gone to bed.

I made my way to Anna’s door. A single guard
remained at his post, standing outside her room. He saluted me and
allowed me access to her room. The guard was rather young. He was
slightly older than me but not much.

I knocked. “Anna, are you awake?”

“Come in,” her voice sounded muffled through
the door.

I entered. Anna was already dressed in a
boy’s street garments. Her hair was tucked under a tattered
cap.

“What are you wearing?” I asked.

“This is so I blend in with the common
people. You know there are still Jews and murderers out there who
might like to take a stick to a girl’s head? Don’t you think that
this way is safer?” Anna asked.

“No, you are right. I don’t know what to
expect. I hope we don’t encounter any insurgents. My father said
not to wander too far from the compound. And that was during the
day. He said the rebels are violent and will kill us on sight.”

“I think we’ll be fine, Peter,” Anna
said.

“Right,” I replied.

“Okay, let me get my coat,” Anna said. She
grabbed a worn coat from the back of a chair and slipped it on. The
two of us made our way out the door and down the stairs.

Near the front door to the capital building
a guard was posted at a desk. This seemed unusual to me. I was used
to seeing more than one guard at this post.

“Where are you two going, sir?” the guard
asked. He stood and saluted me at the same time.

“We are going for a walk. We won’t go far.
Just want to get a good, fresh breath of air,” I said. I placed my
hands in the pockets of my trousers for a moment as I waited for a
response from the guard.

The guard returned to his seat and scratched
his head. Then he replied, “That should be fine, sir. I do ask that
you be careful out there and try to stay near the compound. Also,
it’s a good idea if you two stay clear of the north part of
Warsaw.”

“Why that part?” Anna asked.

“There are insurgents there. They’ll kill
you. Our soldiers will be fighting with them throughout the night.
They have become restless and emboldened ever since news of the
Führer’s departure spread outside these walls.

“Father is gone?” I asked.

“Yes, he had to leave for the night, but he
will return for you in two days’ time. They left by train earlier
tonight. I’m sure it was urgent or he would have told you.”

My eyes focused on the guard’s desk for a
moment. It was the first time, excluding when I was in school, my
father had left me alone.

“Well, thanks,” Anna said. She turned and
began to pull me out the front door. She was ready to take the wine
bottle out from under her coat. It was bulky and uncomfortable to
continue holding it there.

“Wait,” the guard called out behind us.

I turned slightly and made eye contact with
him.

“Take this with you, just to be safe,” he
said and pulled a Colt 1911 pistol from the desk drawer.

I looked at Anna for a moment and then
picked up the gun. I looked at the guard and said, “This is an
American pistol.”

“Yes, I found it on one of the police
officers we shot on the way in. It’s American, but they make good
weapons. You should take it with you for protection. There are only
seven rounds in the clip, so if you need to use it, do so
sparingly.”

I pocketed the gun inside my coat and
followed Anna out of the building. We walked along the streets. The
city was structured like a giant skeleton. It had living systems
that acted like organs.

The bombed and destroyed structures were the
bones. They jutted out of what was once a great living city. And
now it was just an open wound. The Nazis had invaded Warsaw. Like a
parasite, the Nazi army became the mechanism which controlled the
living functions of the city.

The residents of the city who remained did
not want us there, and I knew it. Yet my father would say
differently. He would argue with me privately that the Aryan Polish
were secretly grateful.

“Finally, the Germans have come to clean us
of our Jewish problem,” he had said. “Finally, our prayers are
answered. We can return to the fatherland.”

“Where do you want to go, Anna?” I
asked.

“Let’s go to the north side of town,” she
replied.

“I don’t know,” I said. “That side of town
is forbidden. You heard what the guard told us.”

She took me by the arm. “Come on. It’ll be
fun.”

I deliberated for a moment.

“Please, Peter? It’ll be more interesting
than staying on the safe side. Besides how am I ever going to
understand politics if I never get to see a menacing Jew for
myself?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, I’ve never actually seen a Jew. I
mean I may have seen them on the street, but I didn’t know it for
sure. My father keeps me sheltered. This is the first time that
he’s ever let me travel with any other family. He trusts that I’m
safe with your father. Besides, I heard that the Polish Jew is one
of the most despicable. Have you ever seen one?” she asked.

“Well, to be honest, I’m not sure that I
have ever seen a Jew. My father has never allowed any near us,” I
said.

“Don’t you want to see one? We can see how
bad they are. My father says they smell,” Anna said.

“I guess,” I responded.

I followed Anna down the street and into the
depths of Warsaw. We walked for thirty minutes before we reached
the restricted part of town. We had to hide in a doorway at one
point because a couple of Nazi soldiers walked down a neighboring
street. I thought that it would be best if we were not discovered
by anyone.

“Peter, look,” Anna said. She pointed at a
brick wall that blocked the passage to the rest of the street. The
main street we traveled on was sharply curtailed because of this
wall.

The wall was new. I recognized the bricks
were newly laid out, unscarred by wind or erosion. I walked up to
the newly built wall and pressed against it for a moment. I knew
Anna did not understand what I was doing, but I felt drawn to the
wall.

The purpose of the wall was to separate the
rest of the town from the Jews who lived on the other side. I
stepped back and stared at the buildings on the opposite side; they
towered over the eight-foot wall. The buildings appeared to have
been in good working order a few days ago, but now they were shells
of their former selves.

Large holes riddled the sides of the
buildings. The once wealthy side of Warsaw was now the ghetto. The
Jewish side of town had been nicer than the rest of the town. My
father once told me that Jews leeched off the good Christians of
Europe and controlled everything. They enjoyed their wealth while
the rest of the people strived to get by. The Jew was the weak
race, and it had control over the stronger Aryan race.