Some Girls, Some Hats and Hitler by Trudi Kanter

Author:Trudi Kanter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scribner

8

I take a taxi to the Czechoslovakian embassy. Paying the driver, I’m shocked. On the pavement is a crowd of hundreds of people. A woman standing next to me says, “There are SS men at the entrance. They are letting people in two at a time.”

I learned at that moment that you must never allow yourself to be one of a crowd. You have to do something on your own.

“Fräulein.” I turn around. My taxi driver is behind me. “Fräulein, what is it you want here?”

“I need a visa for my husband,” I say, my eyes filling with tears.

“Come on, fräulein.” He smiles. “Don’t cry. I can help you.”

“How?”

“Come on.” He opens the taxi door for me. “Jump in. I think your troubles are over.”

He takes me back to Kohlmarkt. In the building next to the Vaterländische Front is a small travel agency.

“Go up there,” my driver says, pointing to the first floor. “He can help you. He specializes in taking groups to Pistian in Czechoslovakia. It’s a spa, mud baths—good for people with rheumatism. It’s easy to put in an extra passport.”

I get out and pay him.

“Thank you,” I say. “I will never forget you.”

We shake hands. “Good luck, fräulein,” he says. “You’re too young to die.”

Upstairs, I come face-to-face with a tall, blond, young German.

“Can I help you?” He has a charming smile. “Won’t you sit down?” He holds out a chair for me. “What can I do for you?”

I explain the situation.

“Is your husband a Jew?”

“What a question!” I laugh.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. They don’t give visas to Jews.”

“No one will know he’s Jewish! Just put his passport with all the others. Nobody will notice. If anyone asks, you can say that you know him, that he has to go on a business trip, that he’s in a hurry and can’t find his birth certificate, but you know he’s all right. Will you do that? Please?”

He hesitates, and my heart nearly stops.

“I might be able to help you,” he says, “but the official at the Czech passport office will want a lot of money.”

“How much is a lot?” I ask. He mentions a huge sum. “I haven’t got that sort of money,” I say. “You know that our bank accounts have been frozen. All my customers left, owing me money. I might be able to ask friends for help—I might be able to manage it—but I certainly won’t be able to find more than that. Can we do this deal now, immediately?”

“Today is Tuesday,” he says. “I am going to the Czech embassy on Thursday morning. Where will you be at one o’clock?”

I give him the number of Café Rebhuhn. “I’ll be waiting for your call,” I say. “Good-bye. Thank you.”

I haven’t the money to pay him. I am going to have to sell the large diamond clip that Pepi gave me. I know he won’t mind. I telephone my parents and ask them to come over to No. 11 straightaway. “Take a taxi, please,” I say to Mother.

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