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Authors: Martin Freud

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Any Survivors (2008) (19 page)

BOOK: Any Survivors (2008)
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‘What is an absolute national disgrace?’ I enquired of the Baron. I had only managed to catch his last words.

‘They didn't send any reporters, Gotthold,’ he informed me promptly. ‘My friend, you look like a piece of cheese that has been in the open for three days. It is a good thing you are here now. You can help me to persuade Adalbert. The one time I demand a favour from a friend and all I get is hesitance and refusal.’

‘What does he want you to do?’ I asked the Student.

‘No, you had better let me explain,’ the Baron interrupted. ‘Listen. Adalbert has to wish for something a little piquant or sensational so that all the reporters flock over. I desperately need one present when the panel asks me for my wish. Here, this is what I will ask for.’ He took up his pose, relishing the opportunity of a dress rehearsal.

‘Heil Hitler, fellow members of the party. All my life I have had one wish only: to fight for Germany's naval prestige against the British arch-enemy. This wish has already been granted, so I have no further desires. Hey? What do you think?’

He was expecting applause, I think. ‘I can understand,’ I said, ‘that you have no real desires because we already have all the money we need. But why you find it necessary to proclaim such fatuous nonsense is beyond me. Everyone knows that you enjoy playing golf, smoke navy cuts and normally rave about England.’

‘You don't understand,’ the Baron complained. ‘I only want my declaration to make it into the papers and, provided that the party bigwigs read newspapers, I’ll catch their attention and they will realise: “Oh, here is someone who is so good at lying. He is wasting his talents on a U-boat and should be working for the Propaganda Ministry
.
”’

The Student took pity. ‘If it really means that much to you I will help you. What is the sensational thing that I should wish for?’

The Baron thought long and hard. ‘Why don't you wish for a lady of the night?’ he finally said. ‘Whether they will be able to grant you your wish or not is irrelevant, but in either case it will cause a stir. Women are your weakness after all.’

The Student grinned sheepishly. ‘Let's go inside.’

We pushed down the handle gently and entered the room. There was a long table arranged in such a way that it divided the room into two halves. The area behind the table was the officials’ area, housing the panel, which consisted of a bald, middle-aged man with short legs wearing pince-nez and an imposing lady with white streaks in her otherwise black hair, wound in thick plaits around her head. She had one of those enormous swastikas on her silk blouse, normally only worn by those unfortunate enough to possess slightly hooked noses or those failed in other ways to look like northern Europeans. I learned from my mates that they were married and were the owners of the largest pharmacy on the marketplace. He was the president, she the vice-president of the local KDF organisation. Next to them there was an impressive array of presents under a Christmas tree: books, catalogues and boxes carefully packed up so that we could not make out any details.

The Student forged ahead and approached the makeshift counter. The female commissioner gave him her full attention and the sweetest smile: ‘Someone has to make a start. Please do go ahead. What is it that you wish for? Something pleasing to the eye maybe? Or some delicacy?’

The Student answered: ‘I thank you kindly, my lady commissioner, but I desire something for the heart!’


Liebe ist eine Himmelsmacht.
Love is a heavenly power,’ she sang with a pleasant voice and good pitch. ‘I have thought of such wishes and have not come unprepared. See here, we have a lovely photo album bound with proper ersatz-leather with the pleasing title
Anmut huldigt der Tapferkeit
– Grace pays homage to bravery. We will insert pictures of the prettiest women in this city. Personally I think you shouldn't have only young women represented since I firmly believe that a female's traits improve with age, gaining beauty and dignity, but I will not insist, not for you sailors. You can have a nice album of beautiful young ladies; don't worry, our photographer is not prudish. There are some risqué pictures of fine young women with wreaths of flowers in their hair and substantial décolletage, a gauze veil, artfully draped around their shoulders. In my day, when I was young, young ladies would have never allowed such pictures to leave their hands, but nowadays young people are more free.’ With this she sighed, much happier too. ‘We will get every young lady to write an inscription under each image. I have some templates just in case the young things are unable to think of anything appropriate. With this album you will have a wonderful memento; something to last you a lifetime and to provide a warm feeling every time you take it in your hands.’

The Student said, ‘Thank you very much, my lady commissioner, but I was thinking of something a little different. I don't mean to appear rude but in this instance I would much prefer to talk to your husband. My wish is a little bit of a gentleman's thing.’

She lifted her monocle to her eyes and looked at her husband who had remained silent throughout, and said: ‘Theobald, this is a case for you. A sailor with similar instincts to you, you will get on better with him than I. Please take over.’ The lady beckoned me towards her but I pushed one of the others forwards. I was not sure I would be able to talk to her and hear the end of the Student's story, and I was desperate to hear how it would pan out. Anton the sailor, whose turn it was, quickly declared: ‘I would like a venison roast with cream sauce and berry compote with fried potatoes.’ He was very loud and I moved away so that I could more easily follow the Student's conversation with the male commissioner.

The Student was aware of the fact that the others were trying to listen in and tried to speak very quietly into the man's ear – something he was bound to be used to as the owner of a pharmacy. The pharmacist listened intently with a professional mien. Then all of a sudden he must have realised that he was not at work but in fact representing the Führer and the party. He proclaimed loudly for all of us to hear: ‘I see, you would like sensual pleasure!’

Everyone laughed. The Student's patience was wearing thin and he confirmed, ‘That's right. I'm so glad we finally understand each other.’

‘Fine,’ the commissioner said, regaining his professional composure. ‘Not a problem.’ He took the telephone receiver out of his wife's ear, thereby interrupting her order of venison, and dialled a number.

‘Who are you calling, Theobald?’ she enquired, but he was not answering.

The respondent could be heard saying, ‘Vice Squad, how can I help?’ which led to further grinning in the circle. The female commissioner blushed and her colour intensified by the minute. She no longer knew where to look. ‘Excuse me,’ the man said, ‘is there another line I can use?’ and waited to be connected. His wife had given up trying to order the meal via the telephone and had handwritten the order on a slip of paper, detailing the weight of the roast and the provenance of the order, then gave the paper to the orderly.

Her husband had returned in the meantime, waddling in on his short legs, grinning at the Student. ‘Everything is being organised for the fulfilment of your wishes: the female is on her way and Office No 14 is being prepared for it.’ We all knew that this room contained a large sofa and we were all devilishly pleased for the Student. He, however, was embarrassed by the whole thing and wished he was miles away.

The lady addressed Anton again with her sweet smile, ‘Would you like your berry compote with or without sugar?’

Her husband was already occupied with the next in line, a sensible request finally and one who was satisfied with two tickets to the cinema. Two tickets, rather insensibly after all, for every day of the week and to include two viewings in a row. It took a while to reach an agreement and then they were interrupted by the telephone. There is a ‘lady’ at the gate who says she has been ordered, the watchman said, is it okay to let her in? The commissioner replied: ‘Of course, of course. Will one of the sentries lead her in, please?’

The Student cleared his throat nervously and shifted from one foot to the other. I would have liked to have lent him support but I didn't know how I could help. ‘Would you like your venison larded?’ the lady pharmacist asked Anton, after a long whispered conversation with an emissary from the kitchen.

I made my way towards the door as I was reluctant to see my friend suffering. Here I had the fright of my life as a truly horrific creature was about to enter the room accompanied by one of the sentries. She was tall, dark, very skinny with sharp knees, a long sharp nose and an unattractively lop-sided mouth that was crudely painted a deep shade of crimson. The rest of her make-up looked like she had applied it in too much of a hurry, running down the stairs without a mirror perhaps. Behind her a companion stood – a thin man in civilian clothes with a pad and paper in his unkempt hands.

‘Here is your lady, sailor boy,’ the commissioner shouted leeringly across the room. Rather than going to meet her, the Student made his way towards the counter and began to argue with the pharmacist. At the same time, his wife enquired further of Anton: ‘Would you like a beaten egg in the sauce or perhaps a spoonful or two of rum instead?’

The Student was speaking so loudly that I could understand every single word from my position at the door.

‘You owe us equal treatment,’ he reasoned. ‘I can't believe that for a simple meal, every small detail is approved, but no one asked me about my taste in women. As it happens I only like chubby blonde women with lots of dimples. This one here is dark-haired and bony.’

‘I'm sorry, sailor,’ the commissioner responded coolly. ‘How was I to guess your specific wishes in regards to the amount of fat on a woman or her hair colour? Unfortunately it is a little late now. In a kitchen it is always possible to make last-minute changes, add a little salt here or there for example, but you have ordered a woman for specific purpose, and here she is. Did you think you were a minotaur and deserved a virgin sacrifice? Oh, pardon me, I'm not sure if you understand my reference; you may not even know what a minotaur is?’

Now this was a true insult to the Student. We all knew that in his youth he had declined an academic post in ancient Greek history and culture, and this common pharmacist was trying to teach him a lesson, whose field of expertise was such that Greek sources were only looked at when searching for an exotic name to give to the latest miracle cream or newly patented hygienic rinser.

I was standing so close to the object of the debate that I felt obliged to speak to her. ‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘I am conducting research for the Office of Statistics and would like to ask you: how much is the party paying you for work this morning?’

She smiled her most seductive crooked smile, showing off her neglected teeth, and said, ‘Fifteen marks is what I am paid but the man from the paper has promised another twenty marks if I share my experiences with him. Pardon me,’ she burped loudly. All in all she seemed to be suffering a little from lack of sleep and being out and about at this time in the morning. She turned around and faced the newspaper man. ‘You always write about how the Jewish people tampered with food in the previous war, but what about what the landlords put into
gluehwein
these days? No one seems to take any notice.’

We were being interrupted. Now the Student made his way through the crowd, resolutely took the girl's hand and led her to Room 14. The whole mob followed with shouts of glee, only pausing once they had reached the door to the room. After only a few seconds alone in her company the Student emerged with an imprint of lipstick on his cheek, but dignified and transformed. He informed the superior who had come waddling out of his office with mock military posture, ‘I have pleasured my senses and declare myself herewith rewarded and strengthened.’

The reporter carefully took notes. The others wandered back into the commissioner's office and the Student's name was struck from the list as done. Sailor Anton was just finishing off his venison sauce and looked satisfied.

Now it was the Baron's turn. He said to me, ‘Make sure the reporter is listening’ and moved forward. The reporter was about to leave and I held his sleeve.

‘Listen,’ I said. ‘You must hear this man's epoch-making patriotic statement. You will not regret it. It deserves to be printed in bold in your paper.’

He resisted. ‘Please, you must let me go. I have ten minutes before my deadline. I will lose my job if I miss it.’

The Baron had already finished his three sentences. The man from the press had hardly listened as he was thinking of his deadline and how to escape my clutches. But my dear friend was unlucky in other respects. After his little speech the entire room erupted in laughter and ruined the effect. Once a prankster, always a prankster; even if you are holding a funeral speech people expect you to be joking. As there was nothing else I could do, I let the reporter leave.

Now it was my turn. The lady waved at me. ‘Now, my dear boy, don't be shy. Come a little closer. I don't bite. On the contrary, I will help you choose a lovely reward.’

‘What about a brand new rubber dummy,’ the Baron whispered helpfully, ever the joker. I looked dreadful, pale and drawn as a result of my illness and arrest. The woman thought I was much younger than I really was. Young people who look a little ill and helpless always have good prospects with women of her type. I was not given the opportunity to make my choice. As soon as I had reached the desk the people in the room began to shout: ‘Check mate, seize the king!’ My unlucky predecessor must have made no secret of his innermost desire to play a game of chess.

‘Aha! You would like to play a game of chess,’ the male commissioner interjected and pulled out the catalogue of a toy manufacturer. No one else had chosen anything from it yet but he had brought it just in case. ‘What would you like? We have a set made of fake ivory here or one made of fake milkstone. And these sets here made of cardboard or paper are also very practical and can give much pleasure in their assembling, even if they are cheap to make.’

BOOK: Any Survivors (2008)
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