‘The very next day I got my movement orders. The Adjutant came and handed them to me personally.
‘“See you again, Unteroffizier Martin,” he barked, hypocritically, as I crawled up on the lorry to the other candidates for death who’d made a balls of it at my general’s funeral.’
‘Lord save us,’ sighs the Old Man, ‘there’s not all that ceremony when one of us lot kicks the bucket for the highly beloved Fatherland!’
Letters arrive, and we forget the general’s funeral. There are three letters for the Old Man. His wife, Liselotte, has been promoted to Chief Tram-Driver. It’s a safer job during the air-raids, since there are more shelters close by. When you’re an ordinary tram-driver you’re not always close to a shelter when the bombs start falling. All this talk about alarms going off in good time is nothing but propaganda. Usually the sirens do not start to howl until the bombs begin to fall, and the way they bomb now there is not much chance of reaching a shelter alive. Earlier they just dropped their bombs anywhere. Nowadays they pick out an area and flatten it to the ground. Even the rats get wiped out.
Heide is astonished to find that there is also a letter for him.
‘Heil Hitler,’ he mumbles, reverently, when he realizes it is from the Gauleiter of the Rhineland himself. He holds it up for us to see the over-dimensioned shiny party eagle. With the reverence of a Pope leafing through the Bible, he opens the envelope.
‘At last! At last!’ he is jubilant. ‘They’ve given me the Black Eagle! And about time, too!’
‘Black Eagle?’ asks Porta. ‘Where the devil we goin’ to keep an eagle?’
‘Idiot!’ snarls Heide. ‘It’s a Party Order, one of the highest, too.’ He holds up the document triumphantly in front of Porta’s nose. ‘What d’you say to that? Like one, wouldn’t you?’
‘No, thank you very kindly,’ says Porta. ‘It could cost me a snapped neck when the neighbours turn up an’ Adolf and his party’s part of the past!’
‘I’m warning you,’ hisses Heide, like an angry cat which has had its tail trodden on. ‘With this order I’m letting nothing pass! Anybody who insults the party goes on report!’
‘The salad come with it?’ asks Tiny, leaning forward inquisitively.
‘No, that’ll be along through regiment,’ answers Heide, proudly. ‘The CO’ll decorate me with it personally!’
‘I’ve heard they’re hard at work, stamping ’em out day and night,’ grins Porta. ‘25 marks for 100 kgs, an’ the Gauleiters can shove ’em out in bucketfuls.’
‘Obergefrieter Creutzfeldt!’ shouts the clerk, throwing a letter over to Tiny. ‘Gawd struth!’ cries Tiny, holding the letter as if it was a grenade with the pin out, and sniffing at it cautiously. ‘Who in the name of ‘Ell’d be crazy enough to write to me?’
‘You’ll find out easy enough if you openit,’ laughs Porta.
With a thick, dirty finger and tears the envelope open clumsily, and unfolds the greasy bundle of writing-paper inside it. For some time he sits staring at the pencilled scrawl on the cheap paper.
‘’Ere, you read it for me, will you?’ he asks, handing it to the Old Man. ‘My eyes aren’t all that good today. All the shit there is in the air in this Commie country ruins a man’s eyesight.’
The Old Man packs his silver-lidded pipe phlegmatically, and lets his eyes run along the closely-written lines. He shakes his head. ‘What a family you have got!’
‘Who’s it from?’ asks Tiny, staring at the letter.
‘Your sister,’ answers the Old Man, beginning to read aloud:
Obergefreiter loader Wolfgang Ewald Creutzfeldt
FPO no 23645
The German Defence Forces
Russia.
Dear Brother,
You mustnt think I like you because I start my letter with Dear and Brother. You are a drunk-Wolfgang -everybody says so. I am writing this to let you know you have no reason to go round happily thinking your youngest sister Emilie Louise Bock-Creutzfeldt as used to be – has been killed dead by some of the stuff the English and the other untermensch lot are dropping on Hamburg just now.
Mom’s still alive too. You can bet your boots on it but she dont know you any more and I wasnt to send you none of her love. I know how hard it is for you to read letters. So Im writing this one very slowly sos you wont get confused when you read it. Im looking forward to it coming back sos I’ll know your dead.
Your a rotten dirty pig thats what you are. Everybody here says the fightings hot in Russia and theyve all had somebody in the family shot. Mom was dead certain youd got blowed up too by one of them shells they shoot all over the place out there. But as usual you do us in the eye. We have not forgot the time you pinched all the money out of the gas meter and the coppers came from Davids Station along with the gas collector and were going to arrest Mom.
We was very disappointed I can tell you when the NSFO as has moved in to the old cloth museum back of the Main Railway Station you know it that big grey place with the old Kaisers eagles on it where you and David pinched the curtains when we wanted to do the place up a bit – when he told us you had not come to any harm in the war. Mom collapsed with disappointment when she heard and she cried an awful lot too. Shed been working out what her pension would be after you. The NSFO comforted her and said he was sure youd soon get yourself shot and he gave her an extra butter ration and some bread coupons.
I am sorry to have to write this letter me being your sister and all to tell you your a no-good that nobody really ought to write to at all. If you ever come to Hamburg again and ride the U to Altona – as I hope you never do do – you wouldnt never know our place again. Were moved out to Langenhorn on the other side of the SS barracks. Theres always a lot going on there. If we look out the windows early in the morning we can see them shooting traitors and such-like to death. When there aint any traitors to shoot they practise at cardboard figures so we dont need an alarm clock any more which is a lucky thing because our old one has stopped going. They begin shooting at five every morning and thats our time for getting up.
I am still cleaning on the trains and getting a free ride while Im cleaning. I have been made a State Railway Cleaning Assistant second class and have blue braid on my shoulder. I am allowed to eat with the five that work in the post waggon now.
I was in Dusseldorfflast week. I had it off with a Supply Corps bloke as give me 20 marks to do it with him. We went into the toilet in the first class. You wouldnt believe how posh they are. Herbert Bock my husband and your brother-in-law – though I have to tell you from him that he wont have it your being his brother-in-law – so remember that. Theres that many blots in your copybook that nice people wont belong in the same family as you. Well anyway my husband Herbert Bock has got a new job with a uniform and two stars on his collar and a navy blue hat with a cockade on it and a lot of people under him. Hes looking after a churchyard. There is not a lot to do even though he is the only one there. All the people he used to work with have been called up and have gone off to help win the war.
Do you remember Limpy Egon? It was him you and the fur Jews son David was always with when you were on the streets doing unlegal things. Hed got a new job at the Hansa Breweries and then he died. Drank himself to death they called it. He got dizzy looking down into one of them big beer vats and fell into it. But hecouldnt never keep away from the drink. They do say the beer tastes better since Limpy fell down into it.
You havent ever in all your life seen as much rain as weve been having in Hamburg for the last nine weeks and three days and all the accidents that have happened. Here they are then. The Elbe went up over the red line and thats you and your mates fault. We have got no lifeboats. You took them all with you to Russia. It isnt right you taking everything off to Russia with you and us having to do without at home. Were Germans too you know and just as good as you soldiers. The Führer keeps on saying were a Herrenvolk. Up you Jack. I reckon Germanys the arsehole of the universe and theres a lot more as says the same. To be hones
t with you Wolfgang you ought to get up and show theres some good in you. Tell your mates to stop this stupid war. You can do it if you want to. The parson said you could. You know him, the bloke that goes knocking on doors with the word. I can’t remember what hes called. Something foreign but who cares anyhow. Stadthausbrucke 8 picked him up so we wont be seeing or hearing his Bible words no more. But it was barmy of him to be a traitor. The Führer dont like that kind of thing.
The other day me and Emma found one of them secret papers the ones your not supposed to read but we read it anyway. A persons only human after all. It said in it that the German soldiers ought to just go over and make pals with the Russians and the whole world war would be over. Remember now to tell your mates about it. But dont let nobody from the party hear you saying it. Now the secret paper dont come any more. Them who was writing it have got picked up by Stadthausbrucke too.
They got their legs broke before they got shot. It must hurt a lot to get your legs broke. Do you remember when I broke my little finger? It did hurt and it must be a lot worse to break a whole leg. You have to watch your tongue here if you dont want your legs broke and your head cut off after. Im going to be careful to say Heil Hitler to everybody. Then they cant say I aint faithful.
Things are happening all the time here in Hamburg and so we dont have to worry about what to do to pass the time with. Last night we had five warnings and the Martens that live in Altona got a bomb right in the middle of their bed. Lucky for them it was cause the Gestapo turned up an hour later to pinch them. They were very annoyed that there wasnt nobody to pinch. Them English ought to have been a bit more careful.
Our sister Eva says too its better to get killed than picked up alive by the Gestapo and our sister knows what shes on about. Shes gone up in the world she has and has got a job wiping the dust off the desks at Stadthausbrücke 8 where she sees things your not supposed to. She saw a bloke being interviewed they call it the other day. First they broke all his fingers then they pulled the nails off his toes. Then they whipped him with steel wire and put electric current through him that he had to pay for himself. They put everything on the bill says Eva so it must cost a bit to get arrested. Then this bloke fell out of the window from the fourth floor. He must have come down head first cause it was all bashed out of shape and nearly crushed. He got to pay for the window he broke too.
Our sister Trudy – you know her that was born in the milk shop – shes had a nipper but she cant remember whose it is. She never said if it was a boy or a girl so I cant tell you if your an aunt or an uncle.
The Baumüllers over in Altona have had a wedding. We went to it and never sobered up til after Easter. It was their lodger Long Hans that got married but the Gestapo came for him and they say hes dead now. His name was on the red posters they stick up all over the place when somebody gets his head chopped off at Fuhlsbüttel. It was the funniest party I ever went to. Long Hans never got married but he had a lovely Polterabend. Hed have been happy about it still if he hadnt got his head chopped off in the meantime. We all went off on bikes to the Louise on the Reeperbahn. Us girls sat on the crossbars cause there wasnt enough bikes to go round. There was two that got run over by a tram. They got killed. Then there was one that fell down a cellar stairs on his bike. He got killed too. His bike was ruined but lucky for him it was one he had pinched. One of them got himself caught in the door of the elevator to the Elbe tunnel. He wasnt really with us just a gate-crasher he was. But he was lucky. He was going that fast he went straight into the Elbe elevator. His bike hadnt got no brakes on it. If hed stopped a No 1 tram that was coming rushing down the hill from Fischmarkt would have killed him stone dead.
We was over at The Louise about seven. I know Ive got the time right cause my gent had his wristwatch on and said it was seven and it was a good watch as had once belonged to a Jew.
Us ladies got champagne and cherry wine. I drunk a whole bottle and got that happy I forgot about Wolfgang and all my other sorrows. The gents drunk Bummelunder* and beer from the time they come in the door til the coppers turned up from David Station.
Jensen from Hansa Platz 7 got into a row with the bridegroom. They pulled their knives and the bridegroom cut Jensens nose off. How he did bleed but we were that happy we didnt care. Then Jensen cut the bridegrooms hair off and he bled even more.
Then we had a bit of a dance and had some more champagne and cherry wine. Then the knives come out again. Emmy her with the glass eye got her ears cut off. It didnt suit her a bit. The bridegroom went right off his nut after hed drunk a whole bottle of Bummelunder with beer in it. He lost his mind altogether and started swinging a long knife round over his head. Hes some kind of a foreigner from Austria. You must excuse me but if I was to meet the Führer Id ask him if he couldnt keep all these foreigners out of the country. They do nothing but make trouble. But we probably wont ever meet. People who get up on top of the tree dont remember where they came from.
Then the bulls come running from the David. Theyd got helmets on with straps under their chins so we couldnt knock them off. What a row there was. There was no windows left in The Louise after cause a lot of the coppers and guests left that way and all the chairs was broken cause of people sitting down too hard on them. Then they started throwing the tables at the tecs but the Flying Squad turned up and put a stop to the party. The kitchen was all smashed up and there was never a pot or pan left without a dent in it. So then they arrested us and took us all over to David and there we sung that loud they could hear us down at Landungsbrücke and people come running down to see what was going on. There was a crowd.
Detective-inspector Nass called us all sorts of things and nearly went crazy. Outside the whole Reeperbahn was singing and inside the wedding party was singing but nobody was singing the same song. If you dont all shut up soon Im finished with you lot shouted Detective-inspector Nass. Then they took us in in groups and questioned us.
You got no nose said Mr Nass to Mr Jensen. The man who cut that off must be punished. Thats been seen to inspector said Mr Jensen. It was that Austrian bridegroom but its all fixed up. Ive got his prick in my pocket.
Well later on the whole wedding party met in the jail. It wasnt too bad. They still have single cells but nobodys in them on their own. The prisons are that full up there aint hardly room for the warders. We got ersatz coffee with powdered milk and some army bread. Two slices a piece with a spoonful of turnip jam. There was a lot there could tell about things you never heard of usual. Well we got out again but not all of us. I dont know where them as didnt get out went to but nobodys heard of them since. Everybody at home sends their good wishes and Mom says your to do something brave for the Führer and the Fatherland. If you get a big medal your pension will be bigger when you get shot. You could at the least do that much for Mom and dont forget your not part of my husbands family.
Goodbye for now
Your sister
Emilia Louise Bock born Creutzfeldt
State Railways Cleaning Assistant
Hamburg/Al tona
‘That brother-in-law as is married to my sister Emilie an’ won’t be related to me can just wait till I get ’ome,’ growls Tiny viciously. ‘’E’d do well to count’is bones, so’s’e’ll know which of ’em’s missin’ afterwards!’
We have only been asleep a short while when the company orderly comes rushing in to tell the Old Man he’s to report to the OC immediately.
‘Heavenly posting for you,’ he grins, maliciously. ‘This time you’re going to get your backsides burnt proper. The order’s from right up top, and it got TOP SECRET stamped all over it, back and sides.’
‘What the devil’s up now?’ growls the Old Man sourly, pulling on his ankle-length winter cloak, and swinging his machine-pistol over his shoulder.
‘Clear as mud,’ grins Porta, scratching at his pigeon breast with both hands. That’s where the lice have a tendency to hold their get-togethers. ‘It’s Sally at the War Ministry who’s pushing all the buttons needed to get us of
f on our private gold-prospecting mission. Put your warm woollens on, my boys! It’s goin’ to get very cold, cold as all Hell, before we get home again with our gold.’
‘Here goes the curtain for the first act,’ says the Old Man, when he comes back. ‘The official order says we’re to cause disturbance and create panic behind the enemy lines, and we’re to bring a General Skulowsky back with us, whoever the guy is!’
‘Create panic! We’ll do that all right,’ says Porta, laughing shortly. ‘But who the devil’s this General Stink-anovitch? We can ask our way, anyhow. Maybe my bint’s feller knows him!’
‘And remember. All this stuff’s TOP SECRET,’ the Old Man goes on. ‘Our heads an’ necks both are on the line if anything leaks out! We’re not even to talk about it amongst ourselves. “War Minister” Sally must’ve used up all the ink in the ministry stampin’ TOP SECRET on everything. Field-Marshal Keitel’s name’s on the bottom of the order, only he don’t know it, and the plan’s been made by Field-Marshal Walter Model, who doesn’t know anything about it either.’
‘Cojones! They’ll shoot us three times over if they ever find out,’ sighs Barcelona, nervously. ‘But they do say the cheekier you are the better things go for you!’
‘If this goes the way we want it, I’m goin’ to buy a big medal for Sally,’ roars Tiny, slapping himself happily on the thighs.
In the course of the night we were issued with Russian uniforms, and the tanks painted with red stars and Cyrillic lettering.
‘If Ivan Stinkanovitch gets his claws into us, we’ll have had the most of our lives already,’ says Barcelona, gloomily.
It is snowing heavily, and visibility is no more than a couple of yards, when we load the tanks on to runners. Horses are to draw them through the Russian lines to avoid the rattle of tracks and the noise of the motors.