Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part Two Page 37

  Then came the question of her horse, Lillian, with large tears flowing down her face about her final safety and well-being. Colonel Niemev was a great lover of horses and a very good rider.

  “Bring your horse down. We all will take care of her. You can keep her inside, as one cannot be sure. People fight over any horse for meat.”

  She ran up the steps and walked her Lillian down, taking their compliments, feeling they were very justified. For Isabella, the war was momentarily over. She took her father’s future better than anticipated, feeling he would be back. She was more worried about being found by the SS troops than by the Russians, for whom her father risked his life. The place was in disorder, with many new wounded brought in who desperately needed care. The Reinhardts and the newly arriving doctors worked quickly to ease the pain for everyone as well and as fast as possible.

  The mansion was now in good hands and so was the castle in Lindenfels. The hiding of mostly Russian prisoners was solely responsible for the good treatment they received in return. They, too, brought plenty of food for their wounded ones who fought in Vienna, and their new Major General Dimitrov Piotrev made sure that everyone not only respected him, but also feared him. He was an avowed Communist who fought in the revolution, and lost almost all his family save for one brother who lost both legs. Among the officers, he was called ‘Commisar’ and was proud of it, as after his return to Russia, he would be in politics. His wife Yelena was one of the first female pilots in Russia and was somewhere in liberated Poland.

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  While these two Reinhardt “hospitals” were lucky, their main Marie-Louise Reinhardt hospital was not.

  Most of the Lieutenants and Sergeants arrived drunk, having raided several empty villas in Lindenfels. While they were looking for some hidden Germans, they found instead wine cellars filled to the brim with bottles. Vienna’s wine was famous like Rhine wine and the soldiers made the best of it. Of course, nobody should underestimate a drunken Russian. For them it is perfectly all right to get drunk until they are unconscious. It’s like a sickness which cannot be helped. In general, the Europeans get weak and, in the end, pass out. Not the Russians. They get stronger and are still able to wrestle three men at a time or overturn the heaviest pieces of furniture. And he is always excused, including of committing murder. Although he may be like an angel when sober, he turns beast-like when drunk. The strange thing about them is no one is ashamed afterwards. It’s like a fit of epilepsy which cannot be stopped.

  When they came to Lindenfels hospital, they were far from the point of oblivion but drunk nevertheless. They raped everyone in sight, including nuns they had to chase, which many times resulted in broken bones or bleeding noses trying to defend themselves. The doctors could only stand by helpless.

  By now, all Vienna was informed about or had experienced the liberating rapists, who mostly took watches and women. Screams could be heard in every district they entered. And every hospital was willing to perform what was referred to as a ‘therapeutic abortion’. One was only left to wonder what those poor nuns were thinking, as Vienna’s hospitals were mostly cared for by those noble, selfless women.

  The Russians’ loud improvised radios created another problem as they played all during the night. Hunger and the lack of sleep, aside from the fear of getting raped all over again with new soldiers arriving daily, was not Austria’s only tragedy. They felt they deserved better, conveniently forgetting that their defeated army did worse… much, much worse for that matter. But to be a Communist or on the side of the Red Army was, as of now, the new thing in Vienna. The chaotic conditions had to be once more learned the hard way, like a few years earlier when the Germans got a proud Nazi salute followed by an even prouder ‘Heil Hitler’. Like after the First World War, they were left to fend for themselves without a leader. But at least they were free and somehow, they would make it.

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  Old printed leaflets were seen on billboards telling Vienna that America’s President Franklin Roosevelt had died, and his Vice President Harry Truman had taken over. It meant less to them than the following lines, which let them know that on April 17, the Americans were closing in on Nuremberg and on April 25, the U.S. 69th Division and Russia’s 59th guards met at Torgan in a celebrating mood. Two days later, some of the Americans reached Munich and the Austrian border. Now there was a reason to get in a happy mood.

  “The war will be ending soon,” was the only thing which could be heard all over Vienna, everyone wishing sincerely that they were in the hands of the Americans.

  Between 1943 and 1945, Vienna had fifty-two bombing attacks, which was considerably less than most German cities that were now in rubble. About 40,000 homes were totally destroyed, thousands damaged, and some guessed that about 8,000 or more lost their lives, never mind their soldiers, the wounded and still missing for several years. One would always remember the long lines of prisoners, heavily guarded and marching towards Russia.

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  On May 7, Germany’s high command surrendered unconditionally. The fighting ended officially on May 9, 1945. America’s new President gave a short speech while his people were dancing in the streets. And why not? Their sons, husbands, and fathers fought gallantly in a war far away from their shores. Their losses, too, would be in the tens of thousands, not counting the wounded and captured ones. And for them, Japan was still to be fought.

  While the Reinhardts in Salzburg celebrated with a small circle of friends, Paul Reinhardt was already on a large ship on the way to Russia. So far, he had nothing to complain about except being away from his family. From time to time, he reminded himself how lucky he was. The Germans could have come first, and no telling what the result would have been. On the ship in the evenings, the three engineers had a glass of fine wine together. Everything was from Hungary, including the well-equipped ship. They would be near Odessa, he emphasized one day before the landing. “Paul Reinhardt will like it so much he may never want to leave.” Paul wondered if this was a hint. He only replied, “I hope so,” but thought, “God forbid!” Once more, he felt under a dictatorship; say one thing while thinking and wishing another.

  The day they arrived in Odessa, where the Danube flowed into the Black Sea, Austria was an established Republic. It was May 14 and the new government was formed under Russian sponsorship. Austria’s Marshal was Fyodor Tolbukhin and he asked a former concentration camp inmate from Austria’s former government to help him with Vienna’s hungry population. Both liked each other somehow, possibly having hunger pangs in common. Austria also had a new President, Karl Renner, who had his own bad experience with the Nazis.

  Thanks to the new liberators in uniform, regardless of how hard they fought and how much they suffered, their communist party never gained any strength in Austria. The voters gave them only 0.6 percent. No one wondered why.

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  It didn’t take all of Austria’s liberators very long to partition Austria. The very east was Burgenland and lower Austria belonged to the Russians, who stole and shipped everything back to their homeland. Upper Austria and Salzburg were occupied by Americans. Carinthia and Styria belonged to the English, and somehow the French got Tyrol and Vorarlberg, the most western parts. But the rumor persisted that Vienna, too, would be divided. At least every Viennese hoped for the best. They were amazed at their own efficiency and capability to have, just two weeks after the battle of Vienna, some trolley cars clatter down the Ringstraβe again, with many returning soldiers feverishly working on transportation. And very typical of the Viennese, while they looked for any kind of food scraps, their small undamaged theaters opened, bringing first class performances, even funny musicals! Some coffee houses opened again, dealing more in the black market than their own substitute coffee, which left a lot to be desired. The two hospitals worked as well as the Russians permitted Reinhardt places to do. Somehow, they managed to bring a large supply of food, having, by now, doubtlessly opened every warehouse in Vienna. Not that anyone minded. The citizens helpe
d to plunder too. Their children were crying from hunger. The food stores, like many others which slowly opened, only bartered. Money had lost its value again, with the dollar once more the only good currency.

  Colonel Yuri Niemev was now in possession of Paul Reinhardt’s car, as there was no one else who cared to have it at that time. General Gromov liked only military vehicles and had his own chauffeur. Aside from that, Niemev’s car was a German-made Mercedes. Peter, as a doctor, had permission to drive his own.

  His first visit after the fall of Vienna was to the Fosters, accompanied by a Russian. He found the house empty and stripped of everything. He went to their former Communist neighbors who told him that his own wife and three daughters were raped while he and his sons had to watch at gunpoint. The girls screamed for help, possibly warning indirectly the Fosters. “The man had his gun in his hand,” the former communist was saying and burned his red arm bands afterwards. “Some other neighbors buried the Fosters a few days later behind their property,” was all he could stammer, starting to cry. He told him their name and repeated in parting, “Give me a Nazi any day.” Peter was too upset to respond.

  Vienna had a lot of lowly people, he thought, and planned to get the Fosters dug up and buried in the Reinhardts’ grave site. After all, their son was married to his sister.

  By summer, the situation in regard to rape and plundering had slowed down. Most of the trolleys and railways worked, and the Viennese went further into the countryside trying to find food for their freezing winter ahead. Mail had begun to arrive. It took two to three weeks from Salzburg to Vienna, but that was to be expected. Gaby had received the news about Paul’s departure to Russia. And although she felt saddened, it could have been much worse. Deep in their hearts, all the Reinhardters in Salzburg felt he would be back.

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  So far, no letter had arrived from him, and when Peter asked the General, he only replied that his work was ‘Top Secret’, but he could assure him that Paul was fine. Peter was relieved and wrote to Salzburg about it. The Russian doctors who worked with Isabella in the mansion’s hospital proved to be great treasures. Isabella could sleep wherever she liked without any worry of harassment. Everything was well organized, and nothing escaped General Gromov’s or Colonel Niemev’s eyes, who were permanently stationed in Paul’s office with a staff of sixteen officers and five enlisted men. There was plenty of food and the kitchen help was constantly busy, between the wounded soldiers and the staff. For some reason, those female doctors made very sure every dismissed soldier was in the best of shape, as he had weeks to travel on a slow train.

  Isabella decided to sleep in the mansion’s huge food storage room, which had to be emptied with bags of food, even to be put in the music room and library, so her own bed could be brought down and her Lillian could stay and sleep right next to her. She would ride her everyday under the watchful eye of Colonel Niemev and some enlisted men on the balcony overlooking their garden. Life had become tolerable again, though not normal. That would take quite a long, long time.

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  The rumors of the city being partitioned into four parts had finally come to pass. It took many months of negotiations with all parties involved until an agreement was reached that the first district would also be occupied by the four winners of the war. The Russians didn’t like it. They fought so hard to free the city from more damage as far as destruction was concerned. And General Gromov and Colonel Niemev didn’t like it, as they loved the setup in the Reinhardts’ mansion. It meant not only moving his staff, but some heavily wounded ones as well. Most had an arm or leg still infected and needed more operations, or they had two arms or two legs missing. Peter suggested Lindenfels’ two hospitals for personal reasons.

  He got to know the strict General well and knew he would keep his discipline up, saving the castle from damage. He drank very little and only with his meals. By now, the General and Colonel’s wives had arrived. Both were still in their Captains’ uniforms, working in a different office from their husbands. They, too, were educated and kind, living in Peter’s large villa, which was only occupied by two servants. In the evenings, they played cards or listened to their wives playing the piano. Whenever possible, Isabella joined them, and Peter counted his blessings.

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  By now, it was an open secret that September 1 was the official day to bring a big change to the Viennese. Many Russians had left by now, either to be back in Russia or more spread out among their own territory in Austria.

  The American 7th Army Corps had arrived a few weeks earlier from Salzburg via Bavaria. They linked up with the 5th Army the day the fighting stopped. It was May 5th, three days before peace was signed with Europe, but many Americans were shipped right to the Pacific. As they had the best villas and apartments in Salzburg, they planned to have the same in Vienna by arriving earlier than the English or French. Since their sections were designated, it didn’t really matter to the average Americans, but General McCain needed a headquarters and wanted a beautiful, large, and convenient one at that. Otherwise, there were many sumptuous villas left from former Nazis. Now those monsters, Gestapo or any other sadistic leaders, were either in hiding or in many cases took their own life. Vienna became known to be the city with the most suicides in Europe.

  When General McCain got his new orders pertaining to Vienna’s first district, he read them to Major William McAllister. “We got the nicest streets and location. There is no shortage of beautiful villas.”

  “That sounds great,” he replied equally happy. “Now find us one headquarters suited for kings!”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, still very elated. The McAllisters visited Europe on a yearly basis until 1938. His late brother and he were always included. At times, when they were in their teens, they would have loved to be away from their parents and the ever-present unattached Uncle Bill, but it was to no avail and never open for discussion. William knew Salzburg by heart, to the General and his staff’s delight, as his family loved the yearly music festivals and their plays. Also, the beautiful little villages with their mountains and crystal-clear lakes were to their liking.

  Austria’s last Emperor had his own hunting lodge in the health spa of Ischl and considered the quaint town the most magnificent place on earth. The result was that Major McAllister was now the perfect tour guide. He now saw Salzburg from a different perspective than as a teen.

  The same happened with the city of Vienna. His family stayed year after year at the Hotel Imperial, as it sounded more noble than the equally elegant and famous Hotel Bristol. General McCain was not only happy in choosing his personal aide McAllister for his commanding presence, or for being a great organizer to get things done in a hurry, but his former travels and knowledge about their cities was extremely valuable.

  Each WAC, single or married, found him strikingly handsome and many waited in vain to get a date, let alone to start a lasting relationship. He was exactly like his father, a Harvard man who also obtained a Rhodes scholarship. If that was not enough, everyone knew that his father was in the banking business, aside from real estate, lived in New York during the week, and spent his weekends at their estate in Scarsdale, Long Island. His favorite relative, however, was his Uncle Bill, after whom he was named. But William Grant McAllister was nobody’s ‘Bill’. He was known to be courteous but also demanded respect.

  “Now dear William,” the General ordered kindly as usual. “Find us the very best place in Vienna. Never mind that you are leaving us next year. Think of us as ‘leftovers’,” he laughed. “and take the two spaghetti clowns with you. Also, ask Captain Sheila Brown. It may get her in a better mood.”

  He only smiled and had them brought to his temporary office. WAC Captain Sheila Brown was overjoyed as always when she could be near William. They had a short-lived affair in Salzburg, strictly reserved for the bedroom in his confiscated villa. She wondered ever since those times how a man is capable of making perfect love without being in love. But she was too eager to g
et him, and with the slightest remark about what the future would hold for her, he told her very bluntly that he would have to be very much in love to make a commitment. He omitted that an easy woman was the furthest thing from his mind. Sheila Brown was a beautiful natural redhead with a great body and was a lot of fun to be with. But she was also twice divorced.

  Those two so-called ‘spaghetti clowns’ didn’t mind their title at all. They were always the life of the party and somehow had the talent to arrange one, no matter how low the company’s morale got. One had to like them. Captain Bradford Torelli and Joseph Respini were from New York. It was always ‘Brad’ and ‘Joel’, even for William McAllister, who at the present asked them and Sheila to help him find the proper headquarters.

  They walked for about two hours in the warm sun during the last days of August and decided to take a rest at one of the re-opened coffee houses near St. Stephan’s Cathedral. “What better man to ask than a waiter,” Brad suggested. “Major McAllister, use your ‘Harvard-German’ again,” he laughed.

  William did just that and was told that there was a place only two blocks from there, a large Baroque palace with a Red Cross flag hanging out. Two Russian soldiers were patrolling the place.

  “I know exactly the place.”

  Sheila replied again happily, “I admired the building for the grandiose staircase.” William only smirked, as he had pointed out many grand places in Salzburg to which she showed very little interest.

  “If you admired the outside, you will be astonished by the inside much more,” the waiter remarked, thanking them for their generous tip. They only ordered hot water and brought their own instant coffee, sugar, and cream all in paper wraps. Viennese coffee was like dishwater and they learned very fast to bring their own.