Vienna Prelude (56 page)

Theo listened to the words, and a chill of horror flooded over him. Had midnight come for Germany? Was it too late for repentance? Too late to change the course that led irrevocably to damnation?

Theo’s heart beat in the rhythm of the terrible words.
Too late! Too late! Too late!
The first drop of innocent blood spilled; the first brutal laws of Nuremburg had marked the bloody path. And everyone who had been silent now was stained with guilt. Only the guiltless were within these walls. Inside the very churches of the nation, men prayed prayers that God could not,
would not
hear! They were prayers meant for Lucifer.
Gott mit uns
on the buckles of the soldiers should have read
Lucifer mit uns!

The voice, the unearthly whisper of the old man, uttered the last words of one soul, a million souls, who had made a covenant with Evil for the sake of fleeting pleasure:

Before his eyes, Theo saw a vision of jackbooted SS guards begging the stones of the rock quarry to cover them. The earth and air alike glowed red, and hot hail fell on their backs, just as the lash of their whips had torn the flesh of innocent men.

The professor stopped the recitation suddenly and turned to Theo. Even in the darkness, eyes covered by cataracts could see clearly, and he said with such sadness that Theo thought they would weep together, “Pity them, Jacob. Pity them for the evil they worship and the end that will surely come to them. Weep for our tormentors who have forgotten that they are also eternal. There will be a moment when it is too late to beg forgiveness.” Julius sounded weary now. The evening’s discussion was over. The professor was right.

The professor fell silent. Soon, his breathing became deep and even in sleep. But Theo lay awake in the gloom as the cries of Marlowe’s
Faust
echoed in his mind. For so many months Theo had believed that black had become white and wrong had become right. Wasn’t the whole world upside down? Hadn’t Hitler proclaimed that the masses could be made to believe that hell was really heaven? Yes, of course. That was plainly written in
Mein Kampf
, like the black magic of the books of Doctor Faustus. But one day Germany would cry out, “I’ll burn my books!” And it would be too late. The Nazi murderers would cry for mercy, but they were judged already.
The stars still move, time runs, right is still right, and there will be an end to evil one day.

In the cold, the filth, and the stink of Dachau, Theo Lindheim found consolation in the recitation of the old professor. He was suddenly glad that he was the man being beaten instead of the man who swung the lash. There was something holy and sacred in the foul swill and the crust of bread that they were fed each day. In the dust of the rock quarries, their lives became a cathedral dedicated to a righteous God. It was better, somehow, in Germany these days, to die behind these walls. Because all souls are eternal and the hell of Dachau would only last for a brief moment in time, it was better to suffer now than to cause suffering.

From that night on, Theo was no longer afraid. The fierce hatred he felt for the well-fed SS officers and guards settled into a quiet pity.
“
Burn your book of Aryan magic!”
he wanted to shout.
“
There is a hell more fierce than Dachau, and it lasts forever!
”
But he did not speak to his tormentors. Instead he spoke quietly of the end of suffering to those who were tormented and dying in this place. Every night, like the priest and the cantor, he moved among the moaning men, a shimmering light of hope. They died in his arms. They died with the names of wives and sweethearts on their lips. They died with kaleidoscopic visions of color and stars and hope dancing before their eyes. And unlike Faust, their tormentors could not reach them in the morning.

38

The Nightmare

That long and terrible night, Thomas shared the dark plans of the German High Command with Elisa as she sat next to him. Words that were meant only for the ears of British Foreign Minister Anthony Eden and Winston Churchill now tumbled out of him. Since he could not comfort her with hope for Theo, he explained, could he not offer some consolation in hope that the madness in Germany would end?

“I know why you think you cannot care for me,” he said, staring at her hands.
Those same hands that caressed me so willingly.
“But you must know the truth. All of it, Elisa. I cannot carry such knowledge. I cannot go on unless you know the truth of who I am and can believe in me as you once did.”

She did not reply. She seemed not to hear. Was she thinking of the walls of Dachau? Or her father and the flash of the machine gun?

Thomas continued. It did not matter if she heard him. He would at least
try
to explain! “In July of 1936—” he spoke as though to a judge and jury, his voice a monotone—“just before I was ordered not to see you again, Hitler instructed the general staff to draw up plans for the occupation of Austria. It is called Plan Otto.”

Now Elisa’s eyes flashed angrily. “Since July? A year and a half ago?”

“I had only heard rumors of it. I could not say anything. I am under suspicion myself.” He waved his hand as if to express the horror and frustration he felt at such a plan. “So many of us feel the same.” He stared toward the window shade as though he sensed something—someone—outside in the rain. Then he looked back at her. “A year later, on June 24 of this last year, Hitler gave a special directive making the plans official. Three months ago he told the chiefs of the armed forces that Germany must have more living space, and that this could best be found in eastern Europe.”

Elisa simply stared at him when he paused to let the implications of his words sink in. “Poland?” she asked incredulously. “He has set his sights on more than just Austria?”

Thomas nodded. “Czechoslovakia. Poland. White Russia. The Ukraine. The chiefs of staff know that this would involve a major war, and as for the people already living in those countries—what does Hitler plan for them?” He looked genuinely frightened. “There are men”—he chose his words carefully—“in the general staff who see the total folly of such a plan.” He did not mention names, many of whom Elisa would have known. A few had served with her father twenty years before and were men he once called friends. “Hitler has said that Germany will have to reckon with her two hateful enemies, England and France. For them, a German Colossus in the center of Europe would not be tolerable. And yet—” he shrugged helplessly—“our army grows each month while the lack of willpower by the British government and France spurs Hitler on in his belief that now is the moment to begin.”

“And Austria? What of Austria?”

“Plan Otto will be the first of the steps undertaken, unless—”

“Unless what, Thomas?” she asked. Clearly his words had driven grief for her father temporarily into the background temporarily.

“Hitler has broken every article in the Versailles Treaty, and he is wild with his success. First he rearmed Germany. Then he established the draft. Third, he reoccupied the Rhineland and has established the military barricade of the Siegfried Line along the border of France.” He turned his eyes on Elisa. “Now he has established a strong friendship with Mussolini in Italy.”

“And so,” she said thoughfully, “the time is right for this Plan Otto? He will invade Austria soon?”

He saw the realization, the horror hit her. What had happened in the Judenplatz—the bloodbath—would also happen here. He could almost hear the tramp of jackboots on the peaceful street below. What had come to Berlin would come here as well.

“But, Thomas, you said
unless.
Unless
what
?”

He did not answer right away. “What Hitler has not been able to do with bombs and terror and money to support the Nazis in Vienna, he is quite ready to accomplish through diplomacy.” He took her hands in his and held them. His eyes begged her to understand why he had stayed away so long, why he had been unable to run away from his duty. “I have been sent to certain high officials in the British government. I was instructed to share at least part of Hitler’s plan with them. They are aware of Hitler’s aims for Austria, at any rate.”

“And?” she demanded.

“The chief of staff, General Blomberg, is ready to take over the German government . . . if the British are prepared to
strongly
resist the takeover of Austria.”

“You have told the British this?” She was amazed, ashamed that she had not even dreamed that Thomas would be part of a force within the German command to stop Nazi tyranny.

“I did not mention Blomberg by name, of course. But there are many others who stand with us. With every victory that Hitler wins because of the diplomatic appeasement of other nations, he becomes more wildly popular with the German people! Elisa, what he says is believed and acted upon as though he were a god. He has such power over the people! He needs to have a few defeats before they will see. He needs to be stopped cold in his tracks by the great nations standing up to him. The German nationalistic fervor is at such a high pitch that we must move carefully. Do you understand what I am saying?”

She nodded and squeezed his hands. Then she reached up and brushed back a tumbled lock of his hair. “I’m sorry I doubted you.” She could barely speak. “I should have known there was a reason you stayed.”

“I was ready to leave.” He frowned, not quite able to accept her praise. “I am such a small cog. I did not know about all this until after I wrote you. I believed that the German High Command was simply letting it slide away. Himmler and his Gestapo have been undermining Canaris and the Abwehr for over a year. The maniacs work the hardest to drive the same men out. And it is working.” He drew a deep breath. “But there is hope. Fritsch and Blomberg are holding Hitler back by their disapproval of the plan. They keep begging for a little more time.”

“I remember them both as very strong men.”

“They are not blameless, though.” Thomas looked sad. “Some of the guilt must fall on every man in the High Command, every officer in the military.” He bit his lip. “Even the very small cogs. I can remember cheering when Hitler announced that we were going to reoccupy the Rhineland. It was, in a way, like saying my father had not died in vain in the last war . . . we would all be Germans and
proud
once again! And that is the poison which has infected our country, Elisa. Beyond that, there is a madness, an evil, which I cannot explain. It is that evil that has claimed men like your father as victims. I am more afraid of this than anything. If Austria is taken, Hitler will bring the madness with him. And Austria is the door to Czechoslovakia.”

“My mother and brothers—”

“And Czechoslovakia is the door into Poland. If it begins, this terrible eclipse, it will not stop until the darkness is accomplished.” He looked exhausted. He laid his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes as she simply stared at him. Like her father, Thomas had carried on a secret life that she had not suspected. Elisa touched his head softly and his mouth curved in a slight smile. He knew he was forgiven. Could he hope again that she might love him as she had before?

After a few minutes, he sighed deeply and fell asleep on the sofa. She got him a pillow and tugged off his shoes, then covered him with a blanket. How long had he gone without sleep? she wondered.

She was exhausted as well, but all that he had told her spun in her mind as she lay down and tried to sleep. She thought of her father. Theo would have told her that the life of one man must sometimes be sacrificed for the good of others. Theo had lived that belief to the letter. And now Thomas too had in a way sacrificed his life. For the sake of what he believed was right, he had turned away from her. She could forgive him easily for that, but tonight she could not find the love in her heart that she had once felt for him. The world was threatening to explode in an all-consuming flame. How could she think of herself? of her own fate? There was so much more at stake. Thomas knew. Theo knew. Thank God someone in the German High Command knew. And there were people like Leah and Shimon and Rudy, people like the Wattenbargers, who
sensed
what was coming and chose to fight it on a personal level. They could do nothing to stop the massive international tidal wave that threatened now to engulf the world, but they would at least find high ground and provide a lifeline for all who were struggling.