The Willow Wren Philipp Schott (best free e book reader TXT) 📖

“Ludwig, I’m going to escape to the West. What you heard today is exactly why I need to go. The Russians and their friends here are starting to do the same kind of shit Hitler and his gang did. Different words but the same nonsense. I can’t go through that again. I’ll check the route and the situation in Worpswede and then you and the others can follow.”

I was shocked. I should not have been, as Theodor had dropped strong hints before, but I did not believe that he would follow through and leave us. “We need you here, Theodor! And how do you know Papa wants you to go? Maybe you will be on your own in the West, on the street!”

“You don’t need me. The money Papa sends more than replaces my wage, and the economy here is not good, so my job is not secure in any case. Herr Grün has been grumbling that he can’t afford me unless people start buying more electrical goods that need repair. And I have written to Papa. He wrote back to say that I could come. It would be tight quarters, but I was welcome. I’m sure Mama suspects. She hasn’t said anything though, and I am worried about her. It’s the only thing that holds me back.”

I wrestled with the contradiction between knowing that Theodor was right but not wanting him to go. With respect to Mama, despite her likely distress at seeing Theodor go, this could end up being the nudge she needed to allow us to make the same move. It takes a minute to write this but less than a second to think it, so after the briefest of pauses I replied, “You are right. What you say makes sense, especially if you can live with Papa. How are you going to do it? Escape, I mean?”

“I have been quietly asking around. Peschel has lots of contacts, but I’m not sure I trust him. Do you remember Gerhard in my class? Well, he left last month, so I asked his sister how he did it and she put me in touch with someone in Grimma who organizes escapes through the Harz. This fellow is willing, and he says that I am lucky with the timing, as winter is best. The patrols are less and there is more fog. I’m leaving in a month, in the first week of December.”

The Harz were the mountains I mentioned before in reference to the witch legends on their highest peak, the Brocken. They straddled the zone boundary and were famed for their dark forests. “That sounds dangerous,” was all I could think of to say.

“Maybe.” Theodor shrugged. “But after being sent with a Panzerfaust against Russian tanks, danger seems very much to be a relative concept. And this border runner has a good reputation. He has obviously not been caught or killed yet, otherwise he would not be in business!”

“How will you pay him? Mama has all the money.”

“She’ll agree. Don’t worry about that.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

December 1948

And she did. Mama gave Theodor the money to pay the border runner. She said that she could not hold him back. Theodor was an adult (he had turned eighteen in September) and he had been earning money. Maybe he was right about life in the West, maybe not. We would see.

We all got up at four o’clock on one icy cold early December morning when Theodor got ready to walk to Grimma as the first part of his journey. Mama was to tell Herr Grün that he was sick and could not come to work; we were not sure whether he could be trusted with the truth or not. She hugged Theodor fiercely and wished him good luck. I called after him that he should write immediately when he got to the other side. He turned his head, mouthed “of course,” and then marched off into the dark.

True to his word, two weeks later a letter arrived.

Dear Mama, Ludwig, Clara, Johann, Oskar and Paul,

I am here in Worpswede with Papa! What an adventure! We took the train from Grimma to Leipzig and then to Quedlinburg via Halle. Wernigerode would have been much closer to the border, but my guide (I won’t use his name in case this letter is read by others) said that the border security people watched those trains much more closely. It was better to get off further from the border and walk the extra distance. It was only fifty kilometres in any case. Normally that would take me no more than two days at the very most, but in winter and in the mountains, it is a different story! There had been a large snowstorm the day before, which made the going slow, especially as we stayed off the main trails, but it also meant that the patrols were less frequent than normal. My guide knew a spot (I won’t say where in this letter and in any case it would be too rough for you when you come) where the patrols did not often go when the snow was heavy. I should mention that these are Russian Red Army border troops, and they have dogs and trucks. In some places they are starting to use VoPos instead, but only at towns and roads — not places you want to try to sneak across! But despite the weather and the carefully selected spot we almost got caught! We came to the border in the middle of the night. In these remote areas it’s still only marked with a few posts, there are no fences there yet, but the Russians must have known that these parts of the Harz were becoming popular for people like the guide and me because they seemed to be waiting for us. Fortunately they can’t cover every metre, especially in the dark, especially in the deep snow, so we were