Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part Two Page 36

  He aimed his carefully pre-written notes especially to Theresa von Walden. “Your family is also ours and very welcome to hide in our place.” Andreas and his wife gave a grateful sigh of relief. “As I am sure, with the exception of Peter of course, no one knows that our wise ancestors deepened all existing cellars in their different homes after Napoleon decided to bombard Vienna in 1809. The same goes for our wine and food cellars which can be reached via a staircase,” he smiled. “Fortunately, as I met my lovely wife that way.” Isabella applauded loudly, causing sincere laughter. “However, others can only be reached by lifting certain floor panels which are hidden under heavy rugs. The reason no one is ever told about it is simple. I was never sure who would be questioned by an enemy, as right now the Germans would be sure to do, and you could never be trapped while questioned if you don’t know it,” he smiled.

  “Then, in 1848, with revolution spreading all over Europe, Otto Reinhardt lost no time in disguising storerooms and oversized closets, for whatever purpose, by having panels made and painted by artists who a few years earlier did the hallways. It matched the walls perfectly and no one would ever suspect any hiding place, as the gilded frames had a certain place that would open the entrance.”

  No one looked more surprised than Theresa and Isabella. One thought of her family, the other of her horse Lillian. She was extremely relieved that all was on the fourth floor, as her Russian ballet teacher Mme. Platikova told her Russians hate to climb stairs. Lillian would just have to learn in a hurry, which shouldn’t be any problem. The late Empress Elisabeth, a known horse-lover and equestrian, taught her horses to climb stairs at their residences, including the Castle of Schönbrunn.

  “As of today, I will have to teach my Lillian to walk up and down stairs. They would surely take that beautiful creature as soon as they saw her,” Isabella spoke up almost shaking all over her body.

  “It will take very little effort, Isabella, and I will show you the room best suited for her. She needs one with open windows and a large enough space to be comfortable.”

  Lillian was now known more as Isabella’s ‘demi-god’ than as a horse. With a hug and an almost teary ‘thank you’, she appeared more relaxed and listened to Paul’s lifesaving ideas. Of course, she would stay in Lillian’s hiding place.

  Theresa and Andreas drove to her parents. Doctors still had the luxury of getting enough gasoline, though strictly rationed for emergency visits. He considered this one of them. The Bauers were relieved and would send her sisters the following weekend. As for Theresa’s mother, their family lived in a large, four-story apartment house, having the fourth floor to themselves, with six other families occupying the third and second floor. Their leather goods store was closed, and their valuable items hidden in the attic, hoping no direct hit would get them. But her jewelry would be sent via Theresa to the Reinhardts’ place to be put in a cellar. Peter went to the Fosters to offer them refuge but to no avail. Since their valuables were already safe at the Reinhardts’, they felt they had nothing to lose. When Peter told them that Russian soldiers were known to rape women, he showed him proudly his hidden gun. All advice, that they would arrive in groups and behave like savages, was only shrugged off.

  “I tried my very best,” Peter told Paul, who was very worried.

  “Those are the kindest human beings we know,” he said, teary-eyed.

  A few more of their close friends were visited by Peter or Paul, as they both felt there was no time to lose. But all women were gone, with the men and their servants guarding their homes. Most of their help was from Czechoslovakia and was hired many, many years ago, so they were also familiar with the Russian language. They, too, were all indifferent to the Reinhardts’ suggestions. They both felt they did their duty and let it go at that.

  The first district looked like an over-crowded camp. However, after the severe winter, spring was exceptionally warm. The people were only in need of food. Some primitive portable sanitary equipment was installed and emptied by the poorly fed Russian prisoners. Otherwise, there were more of Hitler’s teenagers with their swastika armbands and old men over sixty years old carrying hand grenades, expecting to defend the city of Vienna from the Russian onslaught.

  On April 2, Vienna heard Minister Joseph Goebbels’ short broadcast via a radio station called ‘Werewolf’ for the last time. He expected suicidal resistance and repeated several times that it is better to be dead than red. Some comfort!

  The first Russian tanks appeared three days later on the outskirts of Vienna with the Nazi demolition force again blowing up every bridge save for one to halt the very fast approaching enemies. Fierce street fighting followed, as the Germans were still holding a large area between the Danube River and the canal. They found themselves in the famous district of Leopoldstadt, which had been the mainstay for thousands of Jews since the first World War. Also, another famous Vienna landmark became its new victim by the now desperate SS. Their artillery shelled the giant ferris wheel, the roller coasters, and the merry-go-rounds in the beloved amusement park, opened in 1896. For the poor or even middle-class Viennese who had a few schillings to spare and a happy time in mind for his family, regardless of age, it was just as important as operas or concerts for the well-to-do.

  No one dared leave their shelters and witness the burning gondolas falling to the ground, as the brutal SS was going from desperate to insane, but with an unbelievable determination to hold the city, never mind the aftermath or their personal dislike for the lazy Viennese. It was still their Germany and their Führer. But then again, many Austrians deserved no better. After all, they screamed themselves hoarse with ‘Sieg Heils’ as they met the first crossing German army in their splendid uniforms, smiling from their tanks while taking flowers and embraces in stride. They were positively seen as liberators who would turn their misery caused by the unemployment around. They found fast work alright, but it was for Hitler’s well-calculated war machine. September 1, 1939, came the payday. World War II had begun, and Germany wanted to have it all.

  Now some of the SS troops had reached a Jewish hospital in the second district. They killed those poor, skinny old men and women while shouting, “I thought Vienna was free of every dirty Jew by now! How has this been overlooked?”

  “Easy,” his friend retorted. “Vienna was always a Jew-loving city. I bet some are still hidden.”

  “Then let’s find out while we are still here.”

  They left the hospital laughing while some Jews were still alive, lying in blood. But upon leaving the Jewish district they found themselves listening to the shouts of the pursuing Russians, trying to encircle the German army or what was left of it. Street fighting and house-to-house searching, with one looking for the other enemy became routine. The main difference was that some Russians were sure the war was won; they had nothing to fear and started to rape the still naïve and unsuspecting women.

  Paul Reinhardt’s factories were located in the northern part of the outskirts of Vienna. It had a very wide road needed for transportation, with housing for his workers on the other side. With very few exceptions, like the engineers, they only had to cross the street. The factories had their own railroad tracks leading to the north train station. Somehow the Russians knew about his three adjoining places. It was not only a foundry and two ball bearing factories, but also produced many parts to supply the war machine. To them, it was of great importance, and their soldiers did their utmost to beat the Germans to it by rerouting their carefully planned strategy.

  It was April 8, and the last heavy air raid took place by the Russian aircrafts to let the shivering and frightened citizens know who was in charge. They were already entering the Ringstraβe with a house-to-house search and fighting was unavoidable. Some SS men managed somehow to climb the stairs of St. Stephan’s Cathedral and set the wooden roof, which was previously damaged, on fire; sort of a ‘goodbye’ to their lost war in the most cruel way.

  The Reinhardt factories had stopped all their work, knowing it was
just a question of hours until either the Germans or Russians made their appearance. The long, wide road leading from Vienna to the countryside had been almost eerie with stillness since the morning. Paul slept now at the factory office and put during the nighttime all his Russian, Polish, and Yugoslavian prisoners in his well-concealed cellar, knowing they would be the first ones shot. With the few remaining French and Belgian, as well as his old Austrian workers, they took the same chance as himself. They all knew he could have fled a long time ago.

  While pacing rather uneasily back and forth, he kept hearing the roars of the first tanks and reached for his binoculars. Somehow, he was relieved to encounter the unmistakable Russian tanks with their foot soldiers beside them, carrying their rifles over their shoulders. They were doubtlessly assured the enemy was nowhere in sight.

  Paul lost no time in hurrying to open his floor panels, shouting delightedly. “Come up in a hurry. Your soldiers are finally here!” They were running like wild animals that had been caged for years. He, along with his workers, had the door wide open watching their joyful embraces while all the tanks rolled forward with the drivers standing up and waving. In no time, white flags could be seen from the worker district across the street. Both prison guards had put on civilian clothes and hid in one of the many widows’ apartments. This particular brave woman was a staunch Catholic who lost her husband in a concentration camp and hated the Germans, risking her own life too. Now the tanks had stopped. A Brigadier General with several officers descended their tanks.

  So far, Paul counted fourteen of those powerful vehicles with other large cannons following. It was quite an unusual and confusing scene, Russian prisoner women crying and embracing the foot soldiers then walking back to the factory. Now they pleaded with the officers not to harm their Master in any way, as he was the best man they had ever known. He, too, risked his life for all of them and bribed their guards to look the other way. By now, some women were on their knees, crying hysterically.

  “Get up!” the General commanded firmly. “You are not dealing with the former Czar.”

  “Keep quiet. We are just as glad to be here as you are,” interrupted a tall, blonde Colonel in black uniform. With his short cropped hair and handsome features, he reminded Paul and his prisoners of a German in an elite SS unit, remembering how much one hated them.

  The General introduced himself as Boris Gromov and was in looks and behavior the opposite of the Colonel. Heavy, bushy hair and eyebrows with deep-set eyes, a wide large nose, and heavy lips, he was about fifty years of age and looked like many of his fellow prisoners, with the exception of his weight. Paul asked all to come into his two large offices and take a seat, while offering food. All smiled, pleased. They were hungry. Bread, sausage, butter, cheese, and tea were served. He would never serve alcohol, knowing their fast change in personality. He also noticed how blasé they were to each other’s rank. A Captain or Major interrupted their General with great ease, if they had in any way a better idea, like the main engineer who had the rank of a Major.

  Paul expected, sooner or later, that something was up once the food was gone. Presently, a French prisoner spoke up for all non-Russians. “Your people are now liberated,” he said in broken Russian. “but what about us? Is it safe to leave and look for our Red Cross to get transportation home?”

  “No, it’s positively not safe. The fighting is now mostly towards the inner districts where Germans can still be found hiding. So far, we took thousands of prisoners and put them in a place the SS destroyed without any reason of military value.” Paul thought immediately of the Prater, the people’s amusement park, which was on the way to him, but kept quiet. His thoughts were with his own family in the first district.

  “I converted my place to a hospital in the first district,” Paul said as calmly as possible. “I know you don’t belong to the Red Cross, but I hope you respect the flag as all inside the place are sick women and children.”

  “I only can imagine your place,” the General retorted. “You are one of many capitalists while we are communists.”

  The blonde Colonel introduced himself as Yuri Niemev and asked for the address. He agreed to talk to anyone and explain the present situation. “I give you my word of your safe future.”

  “That is a relief.” Paul smiled, but thought they had a plan for him, nevertheless.

  Now the General assured Paul that his factory would be guarded as long as Vienna was not free of all Germans. “According to my reports, which I received a few hours ago, it will be several days.”

  The General thanked Paul in the name of everyone for his food and hospitality and promised to return ‘once the enemy is completely defeated’.

  ∼

  They left several tanks, heavy artillery, and about a hundred soldiers with six high-ranking officers to guard their unscathed prized possessions, Reinhardt’s factories. Now, Major Leonid Metelev, who was the engineer in charge of it all, said to Paul matter-of-factly that he would travel with him, possibly by ship, to Russia because all railway bridges were destroyed except for one called the Reichsbrücke. Paul turned white and sat down.

  “You will have to teach my colleagues the precision of your perfectly made ball bearings, as the Germans destroyed every known factory in my country. Of course, your machines will go with us as we have none where we will be going. They will be disassembled right away, shipped with us, and re-assembled at our beautiful destination. You will love it there as it is one of the best places south of Russia.”

  Paul regained his color and only stammered slowly, “I care little about those factories. You can take every brick and door along. I care only about my family.”

  “Colonel Niemev will eventually reach the hospital and give a full explanation to them. He speaks fluent German but so does General Gromov. Both are highly educated in several languages.”

  “So is my family.”

  “I never doubted that,” he said kindly. “I don’t want you to be afraid. You will be like me, a civil engineer in civilian clothes and treated with all the respect you deserve. Many of your former prisoners will work with you again, as they should be very skilled by now. We need them desperately.” He smiled looking in their direction, and they all applauded. But they also knew better than to disobey any order, although it may have sounded like a plea.

  “You speak Russian well. That will help you with our other engineers.”

  “I had plenty of training,” Paul replied. “My daughter, who is a nurse in our hospital, reads and writes Russian also. One of her tutors, Miss Platikova, lived for many years with us.”

  “She probably left with her family after the revolution,” the Colonel said with finality.

  ∼

  By April 13 in the early afternoon, the fighting in Vienna was over. The tide had turned. Now Paul and his former prisoners were free and standing on the street watching the tired and haggard Germans walking by, who with their once splendid looking uniforms, each one different in their conquered country, lost the promise of their Führer for a thousand year ‘Reich’.

  Three days earlier, General Gromov and Colonel Niemev reached Reinhardts’ hospital. The Germans entered one day before but asked only for food. The kitchen help gave them bread with margarine and a few slices of salami. They devoured it as fast as they could and were on their way.

  As the two Russian officers entered and asked for any “Reinhardt” to speak to, Peter appeared in a bloody-looking white coat, not knowing what to expect. After a short introduction, the General explained the present circumstances and Paul’s travel for several months or up to a year at the most. Somehow Peter believed them. They still had some rounding up to do, especially the slick and brutal SS who burned the amusement park down, which astonished and saddened Peter.

  They would be back, Colonel Yuri Niemev promised. “But as there are so many wounded Russians awaiting care and are presently in empty houses left by the fleeing Germans, they expected his hospital to be emptied and ready for Russian s
oldiers.” Peter had no time to answer as both left in a hurry.

  Now, on April 18, they all, including the Russians, sat in Reinhardt’s kitchen eating anything served. They had opened many warehouses full of food and brought large bags of flour, sugar, and beans, along with large containers of margarine, oil, and anything for their own soldiers to use. Peter was as happy as the cooks and helpers. A few heavily wounded German soldiers were still in beds when a Russian General arrived, but they were quickly put on stretchers and laid on the street.

  “Of course, we could shoot them,” Colonel Niemev suggested with a smirk. “That’s what they would have done to any of us.”

  Peter gave a nod and ordered his servants to do as told. Taking a look out on the street, he saw that it was the greatest mess he ever encountered. The war in Vienna was over but the troubles were just beginning.

  ∼

  Four female Russian doctors made their entrance, none of them speaking a word of German, but glad to be in the most beautiful hospital they had ever seen. The general set them straight on this matter and they walked up to the second floor. It was Gaby, Paul, Isabella, and little Robert’s bedrooms, along with their salons and dressing rooms. They would sleep here from now on, with four more female doctors on the way.

  Peter was extremely relieved, as it meant the hidden women, including Lillian, were free to appear. He talked with the General, Colonel, and doctors in his broken Russian, with the two officers replying to him in German while translating to the doctors.

  “We also hid many prisoners and wanted to make sure no Germans would ever be back to harm any of them.”

  “We can guarantee you that much, as the first district is surrounded by our tanks and troops. Every German is either rebuilding their blown-up bridges so we can transport our troops back, or they are on the march to a designated camp,” he smiled, for the first time satisfied.

  Now it was up to Peter to re-open the floor doors with the help of his servant to pull the rugs back. Up came an onslaught of smiling faces from several nationalities who had been hidden for the last several days. It was a joyous moment for all of them to see the descending women from their paneled hiding places. Isabella, on the arm of the old Mme. Platikova, was looking at the Russian officers. She addressed them in their language, watching their pleased faces.