Axel repeats.
“There’s probably just some wood lying around waiting for us. And if not” he points at the saw, “we just cut the trees.”
Axel expects some applause or at least some appreciation for his great idea. But Paul’s thoughts have already wandered off. He still thinks about the conversation he overheard.
Father is right, the Behms and Herr Braun always cheer so much for the Führer and tell exactly the same rubbish. Paul remembers the summer well, when the Führer visited Hamburg and held a speech on the city hall’s balcony.
Father and Paul stood all the way in the back close to St. Peter’s church and could only make out a tiny brown haired man on the balcony, gesturing like a maniac while he was talking.
The excited crowd cheered, jumped around and applauded. Just in the back, where they were standing, people didn’t cheer. Those were all comrades and friends of Father’s: Communists and some Socialists.
The man on the balcony could be heard from the very last row. He shouted so everybody could hear him. Paul can remember the people in front of him that were all ears and hypnotised by everything that man said. He talked about German pride, German unity and the upcoming victory of the German troops. Back home Paul learned from his father that the Führer wasn’t even a German, he was born in Austria.
At school, Herr Wolf told them about the ‘German Ideal’ and the ‘Race Theory’ that puts the Arians on top; and the Jews rank at the bottom as they are the inferior race. A real German has to be tall, blonde and blue eyed. Moreover, a real German has to be slim, athletic, brave, earnest and faithfully. Back then Paul already doubted that this is really true. At last there are many honest people that have dark hair. They may not be athletic, but earnest and good.
He also believes that others could be just like this – the English, the French, the Russians, the Polish or the Jewish. Are you really able to use the hair- or eye colour of an individual as an indicator for personal qualities?
Paul knows many people that are blonde as well as blue-eyed and they are bad, mean and cowards. A good example would be boys like Gunnar Berger, he knows from school. They are swollen with pride, when they wear the black uniform of the Hitler Youth (HJ).
He knows the opposite, too. Father neither has blonde hair nor blue eyes. But you can always rely on him. In addition, he is righteous and truth-loving.
Maybe hazel brown curls are an advantage, when it comes to athleticism. At least, if someone has long legs and is skillful like Paul. Back then, he always was the best in class, when it came to running, jumping or tossing. Better than Axel or Kalle that are both blonde and blue-eyed. He can’t really tell, if he is particularly brave. But he is earnest and honest, something not many can say about themselves.
At least, he is more brave and honest than, for example, Herr Braun and Herr Wolf. They just parrot the Führer and don’t have their own opinion anymore. If they had one and would stick to it like Father, they could be considered brave.
“Here, bag this.”
Axel hands Paul some branches. They are in the zoo. The trees already lost all their leaves. And many didn’t just lose their leaves; most of them are cut down. Paul takes the pieces of wood Axel hands him and packs them in their bags.
Suddenly Axel jumps down from the tree, grabs his bag and starts to run. Paul looks around. Damned, a zoo guard! He grabs his bag and follows Axel.
The guard shouts something after them, but Paul only thinks about escaping. And Axel seems to think the same. They both run down the street until they think the guard won’t catch up anymore. After this, they lean against a wall to catch their breaths.
Paul feels side stitches. He was breathing too much cold winter air in a short amount of time. Axel appears to have the same problem. He is panting and holds his left side.
Suddenly they are both startled.
“Those were shots!” Axel whispers.
Paul nods. They shoulder their bags and carefully sneak up to the next street corner. When they take a peak around, they back off quickly: SS-men have closed off the path between a house entrance and a truck.
People with their hands up step out of the house; they are all wearing the star. They are followed by three men in long, dark coats. A man dressed the same way waits next to a car.
“Jews!” Axel whispers.
He noticed as well, when they picked up the Lipowetzkys last night. Alina had already died, when the SS-men rumbled up the steps.
The men, women and children vanish in the truck that drives off instantly. The Gestapo struck again. The street is empty and deserted, except for the SS-men.
Behind the uniformed men, Paul and Axel can clearly see three dark bodies in the white snow. Some SS-men take the corpses to an open truck that is parked across the street and drives off right away as soon as the men are done loading.
The remaining SS-men split. One part walks off in the same direction as the trucks drove, but the other part is walking directly in Paul’s and Axel’s direction.
Nervously they look at each other. Then they quickly retrieve into the next house entrance. When Paul takes another careful peek, he can see the SS-men walking down the street. They got lucky, Axel and him. As fast as possible they try to make it home.
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