Crowns, Crosses, and Stars by Sibylle Sarah Niemoeller Baroness von Sell

Author:Sibylle Sarah Niemoeller Baroness von Sell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crowns, Crosses, and Stars: My Youth in Prussia, Surviving Hitler, and a Life Beyond
Publisher: Purdue University Press
Published: 2012-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-Five

THOUGHTS OF HOME

The thought of my mother being alone and my father still waiting for his trial in his cell drove me almost out of my mind. So I decided to have a confidential talk with the commander. After listening to my story, he let me in on the secret that his family, too, had been hit by the Nazis, his brother-in-law executed. While in no position to officially grant me leave for personal reasons, he saw no reason why I should not be sent to Berlin on a very delicate and secret mission as his special courier. I left his office with a stern warning that one of the officers, a captain by the name of Winkler, was a Gestapo stool pigeon. I was able to return his favor with my news, namely that one of the girls in my dormitory had all the earmarks of a Gestapo snitch. Inadvertently, I had overheard a conversation between her and the officer in question, dealing with a new girl who had joined us directly from Nazi prison.

Barbara, confused and depressed, still suffering from torture, had been engaged to one of the plotters who was ultimately sentenced to death by Roland Freisler. She had been dragged before his court, and her own father, a Nazi general, had asked Freisler to impose the most severe penalty on his renegade daughter. Allegedly, even Freisler was somewhat irritated by her father’s request. Miraculously, she was set free and somehow joined our outfit. We soon discovered we were kindred spirits. However, because her was health ruined, she did not survive for very long, while her father, receiving a general’s pension, outlived her by decades. No one bothered to bring him to justice.

During the first week, a very special event was scheduled, one that I quickly decided would have to be celebrated in my absence—the oath of allegiance to Adolf Hitler, which took place in a ceremony on the drill square. Not that this forced oath would have meant anything to me, but I still decided to avoid it. Using the old trick of rubbing the thermometer to the necessary temperature of thirty-nine degrees Celsius, I reported sick, as a matter of fact, fatally ill. Suspecting something fishy, the medic informed Woelle, who came into our dormitory to judge for himself whether I was going to live or die.

On tiptoes, he cautiously approached my cot. Was it bad? Did I feel terrible? Should he summon the doctor? After putting his fat white hand on my cool forehead, he did not even bat an eye, but wished me a speedy recovery. As he was leaving, he turned around in the door to inform me that, unfortunately, this uniquely wonderful ceremony could not be repeated for my sake. Wasn’t that too bad?

One weekend, I was issued a twenty-four-hour pass, identifying me as the commander’s special courier sent to Berlin on some confidential mission. At the academy’s front gate the guard suspiciously examined the document from all sides, saluted, and I was on my way to Berlin.

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