Chapter 5
In the early spring of 1941, while the last of the snow still lay on the ground, Karl, Peter and Leyna were building a snowman when they saw someone walking towards the village on the road leading from Fischhausen. The children stopped to watch the stranger approach. He was carrying a parcel under his arm. Leyna waved. Karl pushed her hand down: ‘Don’t wave at strangers, stupid.’
A moment later Karl recognised the man. He paused to make sure he wasn’t wrong and took off towards him, Peter and Leyna following.
‘Father!’ Karl grabbed his hand.
‘You’re too old to behave like a child,’ his father said, with no trace of a smile.
Karl paused before asking, ‘Did you bring some chocolate?’
By then all three children were standing in front of their father. When Leyna held out her arms, he smiled for the first time, bent down and picked her up. ‘Have you boys been helping your mother?’ he asked and kissed Leyna’s cheek.
‘We do everything,’ Karl said.
‘We even tidy our rooms,’ Peter added.
Their father’s face didn’t reflect their own excitement, but Karl and Peter could hardly contain themselves. Both ran for home, wanting to be the first to tell their mother that their father was here.
Ida was in the kitchen preparing a goose for delivery to a family in Bersnicken, the next village north of Germau – they were expecting their son home from Berlin: he had been sent to the capital after his promotion to Scharführer of his Hitler Youth unit. Although the shop was closed, Ida continued to make a little money dressing poultry. When she heard the boys come in noisily and run for the kitchen without taking off their boots, she marched to the kitchen door and yelled, ‘Go back and take—’ She broke off as she saw Paul through the living-room window with Leyna in his arms.
She went back to the sink, dropped the knife, rinsed her hands under the tap and began to cry. Her husband came in for the first time in almost two years.
Once she had controlled herself she turned round. Paul walked to the middle of the kitchen, but did not reach her. She stepped forward and put out her arms to embrace him. He stepped back before she was able to slide her arms round him.
For a few seconds she stood in front of her husband. Although there was only half a metre between them, it was as though she were utterly alone, as she had been since his departure for Paris. Tears filled her eyes again and at last seemed to provide Paul with an unspoken cue, for he relented. He moved forward, took her in his arms and held her tightly.
Throughout the morning, as word spread, people called at the shop to welcome him home. After Mr Laufer had insisted on a celebratory drink, Ida pulled Paul into the kitchen. ‘Please, not today. I haven’t seen you for so long. We must spend at least a day alone as a family.’
‘It’s only a toast. Surely you don’t want me to offend him?’
They heard another knock.
‘More drinks?’
‘What do you expect me to do? Tell them to go home? Some are customers. The war will end soon and we’ll need them to come back to us.’
‘Then let’s go to the coast. We can celebrate when we get back. We’ll have two or three days alone. Tell your friends to organise a party here at the shop.’
It was soon settled. Someone offered to lend his horse and wagon for their trip. ‘Could you take us to the station instead?’ Paul asked.
It was nearly dusk when they reached Sarkau. There was only one inn. A sign informed travellers that it was closed. Paul knocked anyway. A woman opened the door and pointed to the sign. ‘Can’t you read?’
‘I’m here with my family. We have nowhere else to go.’
‘We’re closed.’ She began to shut the door.
‘I’ve just returned from Paris,’ Paul said. ‘We need a room for two nights.’ He knew she wouldn’t refuse a soldier.
‘Very well. We’re expecting family at the end of the week.’ She opened the door and pointed up the stairs. ‘The two rooms at the top on the right.’
The following morning the family followed a snowy pathway through the pine forest towards the sea. Halfway there they climbed a small rise and a series of dunes came into view. Covered with snow, they looked like giant cumulus clouds turned upside-down and tethered to the ground. Beyond, waves lapped the shore. Karl ran ahead, climbing to the top of the highest dune, Peter behind him, trying to keep up with his brother. Surrounded by dunes, with the water stretching as far as he could see, Karl felt as though he had reached the end of the earth.
Later, as they walked back through the forest to the inn, Paul asked Ida why she had been so quiet all afternoon: ‘You hardly said a word on the train.’
‘I don’t like the games you’re playing.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You come home and can’t bring yourself to kiss me.’
‘You’re not the only one who’s hurting.’
‘I’m scared,’ she said.
‘Of what?’
‘I don’t know… of what’s going to happen. It doesn’t seem like the war will lead to anything great.’
‘It won’t last for ever. I’ll be home for good soon.’
‘That’s what you said when you went to Paris.’
‘Well, you don’t seem to want me here anyway.’
Ida didn’t answer. Paul slid his hand round her waist. This time it was Ida who pulled away, but when he persisted she laid her hand on his and their fingers interlocked.
On the morning of their departure for Germau the family walked silently to the road to flag down a vehicle going to Cranz to catch the train home. Ever since Paul could remember, the spit protruding from the northern shore of the peninsula had been a national park, closed to traffic, but while he had been in Paris a new road had been built through the middle for the heavy military traffic that went back and forth to Memel. Three trucks passed them without stopping. When the fourth approached, Paul stepped into the road. The driver and he exchanged a few words, then they all climbed into the cramped cab. Inside the air was stuffy and too warm. Ida rolled down the window a crack.
The driver was young, a boy almost, from Hesse. He soon became talkative, attempting to impress the higher-ranked Paul. He spoke with an accent Ida and the children found odd, but his words were clear enough.
‘It’s my first time in East Prussia. I never realised how far from home it is.’
‘Were you in France?’ Paul asked.
‘No, I was sent straight here.’
Karl and Peter sat
