We discovered that the black market was alive and thriving. The Reich Mark was fast becoming useless. The best currency was American cigarettes. Supply and demand drove the value of a pack. At times, it might buy one pound of butter, at other times two pounds. Cigarettes became the preferred payment for my translation services, thanks to Erich. Sometimes he would drive me to where I was needed. I had introduced him to the Americans I worked for. Often the soldiers were wary of German men who weren’t imprisoned, and sometimes they were hostile. But perhaps because of his association with me, Erich soon developed a rapport with the Americans, learning English very quickly. Before long he was almost as proficient as me, much to my chagrin.

My pregnancy was progressing well. The morning sickness had been less severe this time, abating after the first few months. Although I was still unable to put on any weight, I was nowhere near as tired. Erich ensured I ate a little extra to help the baby grow well and to keep me going. I refused to rest and be pampered when there was so much to do. Still a little nervous leading up to the five-month mark when I had lost my boy, I noticed Erich watching me carefully for any tell-tale signs that there was something wrong. But there was nothing.

At night when the electricity was working, we listened to the radio. American music was all we heard now, big bands like Glenn Miller, boogie-woogie and jazz. Besides the music, there were announcements of rules and regulations and broadcasts naming missing people with their ages, the name of their home, military unit and the date they were last seen. I found those lists wore me down. They made me wonder how many would be found alive and well, how many would have everything they knew stripped from them – loved ones, family, home and livelihood. We still had no idea what had happened to Erich’s parents, where they were or if they were even still alive. Erich reached out to the Red Cross, filling out files on his parents. There was nothing more he could do except wait to hear back. Communication was still haphazard and nearly impossible in the Russian zone where Silesia was. From one of Vati’s letters, I knew that Heinrich was still detained in a refugee camp in Denmark but had no idea how he was.

By March, further changes were made to the Fragebogen. Now all Germans over the age of eighteen were required to fill it out. An air of resentment sprang up around the town. The removal of all traces of the Third Reich and Hitler was understandable to most but now ordinary Germans who had endured so much were made to feel guilty for what the leaders of our country had done.

‘But not all people who belonged to the Nazi party were bad,’ I tried to explain to an American soldier one day. We were standing outside one of the partially repaired school buildings. He and Erich were smoking a cigarette while we chatted. ‘Many were members of the party because they had to be for their professions. They had nothing to do with the party’s workings or politics.’

Erich stubbed the butt of his cigarette against a piece of old timber, watching me carefully under hooded lids.

‘You don’t understand how many of us feel,’ said the soldier bitterly. ‘We’ve seen what the Nazis are capable of, what Hitler gave his blessing to… I was there when Dachau was liberated. I thought I knew what to expect, but I was wrong.’ He shook his head, pain flitting across his face.

Erich and I glanced at each other. We had heard stories, terrible stories of the brutality of the Nazi Party. Those seen as enemies of the Reich, especially the Jews, had been treated in an abominable fashion.

‘Before we even arrived inside the camp, we found over thirty railway cars on the siding outside. The stench was terrible. I knew what I would see inside but it didn’t prepare me for the sight. The wagons were full of dead bodies, the stripes of their prison uniforms lying chaotically, one over the other. I don’t know how they died… probably from starvation and sickness. They were nothing but skin and bone. Many had their eyes open, like they were staring at us, as if telling us to seek retribution for their murders.’ The American took a long draw on his cigarette, blowing slowly out as he gathered his thoughts.

I shuddered, appalled, and reached for Erich’s hand. He grasped it tightly, as if he could protect me from the images that had formed in our minds.

‘That was nothing compared to what we saw inside the camp. Pitifully thin prisoners suffering severe malnutrition, some waving small scraps of cloth like flags, hysterical at their liberation. Others looked fearfully away at our approach, like mistreated dogs. They were walking skeletons and some were too weak to stand. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The conditions in which they survived were horrendous. You wouldn’t treat an animal like that.’ He stared into the distance, his eyes haunted, the cigarette between his fingers forgotten.

I stood rooted to the spot, horrified by his words, by the images that tumbled readily in my mind. I squeezed Erich’s hand tighter, his warmth and immediacy my only link to the present. His eyes were clouded with despair. We remained silent. What could we say?

‘Worst of all were the mounds of corpses next to the crematorium, in varying states of decomposition.’ The American’s voice broke and he wiped a hand over his face. ‘Typhus was rife in the camp. There were men, women and children – thousands, too many to count. Piled neatly nearby were sorted stacks of folded clothing: clothing of the dead prisoners.’

Erich pulled me to him and I buried my head in his chest, muffling the sob that burst from my throat, clinging onto him as if for dear life. What insanity had created such horror? I felt a fine tremor pass through Erich. I knew he was as disgusted as me. Images of Fräu Andree and the unknown relatives Willi had told me about sprang to mind. What had happened to them? Had they survived or perished in one of the concentration camps? Had my uncle suffered for his Jewish affiliations? I felt faint, my fingers suddenly icy, not sure I could cope. Erich held me close, as if to take away my terror.

The American hadn’t finished. I turned to look at him, still in the protective embrace of Erich’s arms. His face was ashen.

‘We were all enraged, incensed and profoundly disturbed at the brutal treatment these people had suffered at the hand of their Nazi captors. Many of our men had to be restrained from wanting to kill the guards who remained. It was as if the normal rules of human decency didn’t apply. We wanted retribution so badly… but this was not the way.’ He sighed and shook his head again. ‘I never in my life imagined I would see such a thing, humans degrading another human being in such a manner. I wake up from nightmares drenched in sweat from what I’ve seen.’ His eyes hardened. ‘But I tell you, I will do whatever is in my power to make sure this never happens again. If it means rounding up every person that had anything to do with the Nazi party and the monsters that did this, well, so be it.’

There was nothing we could say. It was hard to believe the stories, hard to believe that our fellow citizens, Germans like ourselves, could be capable of such cruelty. Everything I had believed about this war, which we had put our hearts and souls into, was not so. I began to understand the obsession with finding any ties to the Nazis. I felt ashamed to be German.

*

Tante Susie, Erich and I were made to fill out our forms. We debated as to whether Tante Susie should lie on her form about her Nazi Party membership, which was taken out so Onkel Werner had a better chance at promotion in the hospital before the war. We decided it was too risky. They already knew Onkel Werner had had a membership. Plastered all over the newspapers and the questionnaire itself, and also on the radio, were warnings of the stiff penalties for providing false information. Thank God, Erich had no connections to the party because his civil service positions in the Luftwaffe were wartime appointments, and I had never climbed the ranks of the BDM.

We were doing laundry when Wolfgang came running in. ‘There are two men at the door who want to see you, Mutti,’ he said.

‘What are you doing answering the door?’ asked Tante Susie crossly, wiping her hands on a towel.

Wolfgang’s angelic face fell. ‘You didn’t come, Mutti. I’m a big boy now, so I answered the door.’

I tried to hide my smile as Tante Susie sighed.

‘It’s all right, Wolfie. Come on, then, and we’ll see what they want.’ She took his pudgy little hand and Wolfgang solemnly led her to the door while I continued to scrub the clothes.

‘Lotte, can you come to the door please?’ Tante Susie called a few moments later.

Dropping the washing, I wiped my hands on my apron and hurried to the front door.

‘Wolfgang, could you please go and check on your brother and keep him occupied while I talk to these gentlemen for a moment?’ Tante Susie hugged Wolfgang tightly, kissing him on his blond head. ‘You’re such a big boy.’ His chest swelled with the responsibility as he nodded and went off to play with Hansi in their bedroom.

As Tante Susie stood, she met my eye and I knew there was trouble.

I glanced at the front door and saw the two policemen waiting patiently. It couldn’t be! Reaching Tante Susie’s side, I grasped her hand tightly, my heart beginning to race.

‘They’re here for me,’ she whispered.

‘They’re not taking you.’

‘We have no choice. Don’t make a fuss. I don’t want the boys upset.’

‘Ready, Fräu Jüngst?’ asked one man.

‘What about a bag?’ I asked indignantly.

‘You can bring a bag to her later today. Her case has to be processed here in Windsheim before she’s sent to a women’s camp.’