Chapter 44
If Amsterdam was aware it was under occupation, the city showed no sign of it. Sure, there were less lights at night and prices for
everything were going up each day. It was equally impossible to miss German troops marching through the streets and how people vanished every day. Yet, for every friend or uncle or sister who vanished, the Germans left many to their own devices. This was not France, nor was it Poland or Russia. Bombings were rare, open conflict even rarer.
If you could ignore the Germans, you could pretend that the war had never come to the Dutch city.
Unless you happen to be Jewish, of course.
The Jewish population in Amsterdam had it, relatively, easy. Even now. They were not deported nearly as often, they were still allowed to live in not-quite squalor, and the Dutch gentiles around them were much more kind than the Germans would have been. But it was impossible to forget that the Jewish quarter had been sealed off. That you were required to wear a star, marking you as a Jew for all to see. And that one twitch in the wrong direction...
"This is not the Germany I remember."
So spoke a young woman, as she tugged the high collar of her jacket up a tad. As much to deal with the cold, as to hide a hardening in her green eyes. It wouldn't do for a
proper Aryan woman to complain about what was happening to Jewish
untermenschen, would it? Especially with her comparatively thick northern German accent.
"I'm sure those your people have trod on would dispute that point, you know." An even thicker Dutch-accented voice reproached her, from the man walking by her side. Where the woman was tall and lean, he was short and thickly built. Where her hair was blonde, his was a dark black. And where she had a disapproving look, he wore nothing more than thinly-veiled anger.
"You aren't wrong," frustration leaked into the woman's voice, as she switched to flawless- if accented -Dutch. "The Admiral wasn't lying about this."
A snort answered that statement, a snort of mixed bemusement and annoyance. "Your Admiral at least knows what is happening. That is more than I could say for your countrymen."
Raising his hand imperiously, the man gestured across a canal to the walled off ghetto at the heart of Amsterdam. Barbed wire atop walls, that resembled nothing more than a prison. A prison walling off thousands of innocent people, for the crime of having a different religion.
What madman does something like this?
Green eyes turned away, as the woman looked down at the slowly churning waters of the canal. Little white eddies flowed around the few civilian craft allowed to ply the waters, as the sound of marching boots echoed up and down the streets. This city was not meant to be like this. Where were the lights and the happy markets?
Of course, she knew the answer to that. It was why she was here, as she turned to the Dutchman by her side. "We need to get in there fast. Your men
are ready for this, aren't they?"
"But of course." The man gave a sardonic bow, a small smile crossing his face. One bereft of even the slightest joy. "Make no mistake, my German friend. Just because we don't actively resist as the French do, does not mean that my people are silent. We are simply...hiding in plain sight. They will be here."
"I hope they are. For the sake of those poor people."
Neither German nor Dutchman could argue on that point, as they both looked out at the ghetto. They couldn't save everyone, no. But this would be the first of many attempts to get in and out with at least
some of the population.
It was the first blow against the Nazi regime, however small and insignificant it may be.
*********
"Mama! Papa!"
For those inside the Jewish quarter, life went on as it could. Children still played with their friends, even as they wondered where their other friends went. Parents told their children that everything was fine and that little Thomas was just away with family. It was a lie, of course, and they knew that. The adults knew that the walls and the Germans in their grey uniforms were there to keep them away from the 'proper' Dutch.
As if they hadn't been more or less equal for decades!
"Lisa, quiet down." One of those adults attempted to shush her little daughter, as the cheerfully innocent girl raced up to her.
"But Mama, someone wants to meet you!"
Even in the ghetto, in patched clothing that barely fit her, a little dark haired girl just couldn't be kept down. Her smiling face shone up at her mother, as a little arm waved at a woman dressed in what looked like a military uniform. That woman had a thin smile on her own face, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"I...see." Frowning now, the mother gently pulled her daughter behind her back. Everyone in the ghetto was at least passingly familiar by now, and she had never once seen this mystery woman. "Who are you, madam? My daughter is a handful, I'm sure, but surely she didn't..."
All the other woman did was raise a hand and wave off the words. "She wasn't a problem at all. I was actually hoping to find someone to talk to anyway."
If the Jewish mother was on edge before, she stiffened even further now. There were enough guards that she knew a German accent when she heard one, and this woman was clearly German. Not Dutch and certainly not a fellow Jew.
"Why? Why would you want to talk to a Juden?"
That was one German word she knew very well. It was shamefully displayed on her frayed dress and on her daughter's patched breast. As it was on all her family and everyone she had ever known.
To her credit, the German winced slightly. "Alright, I did deserve that. But I'm actually here to help you."
"...you want to help?" Still suspicious, the woman stepped forward. Her eyes trailed across the German woman, taking in the scars on her face and the lean build. She was hardly the classic image of German beauty that the Nazis kept cheering for. Perhaps...well, what did she have to lose at this point? "My name is Sophie. You?"
If Sophie had relaxed, her counterpart remained tense and coiled as if she were a spring ready to snap. "Frieda. Frieda Hacke."
"Ok,
Frau Hacke," that was another German word she had heard before. If less often. "Why are you here and how are you going to help me? Your people have taken everything but my wedding band and my family."
It was impossible to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Centuries had taught the Jewish people to not resist when something like this came, but things in Amsterdam had always been so good for her family...
"Get you out of here," Hacke didn't even hesitate. The thin smile on her face just thinned even further. A furtive glance looked for any sign of German troops, though there were none.
"Get us--get us out of our
homes?" Sophie couldn't hide the shock in her voice, even if she wanted to. Her own blue eyes just widened as the words echoed in her head. "You want us to leave our homes, the one thing we still have!?"
It was too good to be true, after all. She's just like all the others, trying to take what we have. It wasn't enough to take everything else, now they want our homes?
And yet, Frieda Hacke only raised a finger to her lips. The scars across her cheeks and over her left eye twisted as her face scrunched up, giving her an even more imposing air than before. "Quiet! I'm not here to take anything from you, I'm here to save you!"
"From what?" Sophie's suspicious tone said everything she felt about that.
Hacke sighed, as her eyes continued to scan for any sign of other Germans, "That's a very, very long story. I didn't even know myself until...well, until recently. Please, hear me out. We don't have much time before my friends get here and we move. I want to get as many people out as I can."
Every instinct Sophie had told her she shouldn't listen to this woman. But when her daughter was tugging on her arm and looking up at her with such an innocent gaze...
"We can go to my husband." The Jewish woman finally relented, only hoping she wouldn't regret this choice.
********
To little Lisa Jansen, what her parents and
Frau Hacke had talked about didn't matter. She didn't really understand it all that much, not at six years old. All she knew what that her mother had her gather up what little she had, and follow the pretty German woman out. Not that Lisa had that much! Just...just a little ragdoll that her Aunt Tess had made for her. Before she left and made Mama sad.
"Mama needs you to be quiet right now, honey," Mama smiled at Lisa, as she put her old coat on the little girl. "Can you do that?"
"Mhm!" Lisa nodded happily. But there was something... "Are you sad, Mama?"
Her mother twitched slightly, her own smile fading a bit. "I--everything's alright, Lisa. Come on, let's get going. We don't want to keep
Frau Hacke waiting!"
Lisa didn't know what was bothering her Mama, but she also didn't let it bother her. Because her new friend was waiting with a smile of her own, her hand in her pocket.
"That's--is there nothing else?"
A smile that went away when she saw how little Mama and Papa were carrying. Lisa looked between her parents and the blonde German with a confused expression. Weren't they just going away for a little while? That's what Papa had said.
Papa's face had a frown on it. Just like he always did lately. "It's everything we have left. That we can carry, at least."
Frau Hacke shook her head, "I can't believe this. The Admiral told me to expect this but..."
If she was going to say anything else, she didn't get a chance. A harsh knock on the door revealed a short man with dark hair, who didn't look nearly as nice as the German. His eyes looked over Lisa and her family in a way that made her grab her Mama's hand and hide behind her. Even her mother's soothing voice didn't do much good, as the man began speaking with
Frau Hacke in German.
"Shh...don't worry, we're okay..." Mama's hand squeezed Lisa's gently, as the man finished talking with her new friend and turned back to the little family.
"Come along now, quickly." The man's voice was harsh, but his Dutch flawless. It didn't help Lisa at all. "My friend here promises that we'll have sympathetic guards, but only if we go
now."
Lisa's parents nodded, and began following the man and the German woman out through side streets, where more men and other families joined them. It was all a bit of a blur to Lisa, as she was jostled back and forth until a smiling
Frau Hacke picked her up and started to carry her. The German woman didn't even seem to struggle that much, gently swinging the little Jewish girl back and forth. Lisa giggled at this, though her Mama looked a bit unhappy and her Papa was trying to stay beside her.
It went on like this for awhile, Lisa swinging in the German's arms while men with scary faces walked the families towards the big gates. Lisa had been told to stay away from those...her parents didn't want her to get hurt. But it didn't seem to bother her new friend all that much, as she moved quicker and went to the head of the little group.
"Can you be quiet for me, Lisa?"
Frau Hacke whispered with a conspiratorial tone and a wink of her left eye. Even her scar didn't look that scary like this!
"I can!" Lisa promised with a wide grin, waving her dolls hand like she was shaking it.
The blonde smiled back, before turning her head up to the gate and adopting a serious frown. Lisa followed her look, and saw a couple of men in grey jackets with guns in their hands. Those men were looking over their shoulders and whispering with each other in German, something that Hacke began to do as well.
Lisa didn't speak German so she didn't understand what they were saying, though...
"Alright...that's not what I was hoping for."
Frau Hacke switched back to Dutch, her eyes flicking down to Lisa, before moving back to the soldiers. Nodding seriously at those men, she turned around and headed back to the group of families. Specifically to Mama and Papa.
"Sophie, I need you to take your daughter back. My friends are keeping the way open, but that won't last very long. Someone's got to keep the other guards occupied at the edge of the city, or you'll not make it to hi...Louis." Shaking her head slightly, the German sat Lisa down gently and looked over at the scary man with dark hair. "You know what to do, right?"
The man nodded, "Of course. Don't worry, as long as the guards don't see us, we'll be fine. We know Amsterdam like the back of our hands and we've already removed the stars from their clothes. What about you?"
Frieda Hacke smiled grimly, as her hand pulled out a pipe from her pocket. She gently tapped it against her palm, looking back at the guards. One of them holding a spare gun out to her. "Oh, don't worry about me. I've fought worse odds than this before and come out the other side."
"There's a story there." For the first time, the scary man actually smiled.
The blonde laughed, her long blonde hair bouncing with the motion, "A very long story indeed. Maybe I'll tell you, some day."
As the man laughed back and started to gather the families up,
Frau Hacke leaned down and gently patted Lisa on the head. "Stay with your parents, alright? I want to finish our talk, one of these days."
"Will you be alright, Miss Hacke?" Lisa's voice was every bit as tiny as she was, as she looked up at her new friend with teary eyes. They'd only just met each other...
With a smile, Hacke stood back up and nodded sharply. "You can count on it. Now go, Louis will take good care of you. Tell him I'll be along shortly!"
And with those parting words, the blonde put her pipe back in her pocket. Her free hands tied her long hair back, before taking the rifle the German guard offered her. The last thing Lisa saw of her friend was the back of her head, as she walked into the distance.
Decided to split this one in two parts, for pacing purposes. Next chapter we'll get the families to their safe haven and continue with Hacke's bit of the story. Like I said, this bit is going to be 'ground level' stuff. Small scale, mostly revolving around saving a handful of Jewish families...but that's how the Resistance will operate for a long time. There isn't much more than this they can do, at the height of Hitler's popularity.
It was mentioned i think in Schrieber's first chapter.
