Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [168]
His eyes were red from sleeplessness and his voice so soft it forced an ethereal silence on the assemblage.
“I stand,” he said slowly, “in favor of the anti-Fascist front. We in the Magistrat have worked well together, all four parties. In these days cooperation among us is urgent and this can be attained only by pulling together. And ... we must be strong enough through such unity that never again will a Nazi madness take us over.”
The rest of what Berthold Hollweg said was hardly important. When a figure so great made an acceptance so spiritless, it brought them all back to reality.
Hollweg continued, in effect, to say: Where are the Americans with their great democracy? Why do they leave us naked? Where are the British? Where are the French? Why fool ourselves into believing we can do something about all this? Why invite the terror again. We are alone, abandoned, and weak, and the alternative is the midnight summons, the beatings, the kidnapings.
Tears welled in many eyes. Truth was bitter, but truth was truth.
When Hollweg returned to his seat the Action Squad people stomped and whistled, but the rest of the hall was stunned.
“I call upon Ulrich Falkenstein.”
He walked alongside the long, green-covered table, stopped for a second behind Hanna Kirchner, his hand squeezing her shoulder, and she could feel the tremor boiling within him. He stood at the rostrum for several moments, looking down on them like an angry Moses whose children had betrayed God. The face of Ulrich Falkenstein, a mirror of German conscience, penetrated every soul in the room and they became transfixed.
In that instant Sean O’Sullivan realized a giant was among them, and Nelson Goodfellow Bradbury knew a moment of magic was happening.
“Berliners!” Ulrich Falkenstein said in a way that hypnotized them.
“Berliners! Are we to hand over our freedom twice in our lifetime without raising a finger!”
“No!” someone shouted from the rear.
“No!” another voice cried.
“Does any man or woman in this room doubt what this referendum means?”
“No!”
“No!”
“Berliners, if we do not stand, we deserve another Hitler!”
Men began standing around the room.
“We will not bend! We will not kneel! We will meet this test and the next and the next and the next! We will be free!”
The hall was on its feet. The roar became deafening!
“Freedom!” he cried from the depths of his being.
“Freedom!” responded the delegates.
“Those of you who stand for freedom will cast your vote now by following me from this hall!”
Hanna Kirchner was at his side. The two of them walked from the stage into a sea of aroused humanity. The SND and the Action Squads were dumbstruck at the sudden massive uprising.
A chant began as row after row emptied behind Ulrich and Hanna. “Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!”
And in a moment there was a handful of them left in the hall and the two colored sets of ballots remained on the stage. Berthold Hollweg sat ashen faced.
Sean O’Sullivan shook his head. He looked out into the streets where the chant rose to a new height.
“Freiheit! Freiheit! Freiheit!”
Chapter Fourteen
YOUR BELOVED FATHER PASSED AWAY QUIETLY IN HIS SLEEP LAST NIGHT. YOUR MOTHER IS HOLDING UP WELL UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES.
The emergency telegram, sent through the Red Cross, was signed by Fr. Dominick Fragozze, a priest Sean had known all his life.
It was not the same as losing Tim and Liam. This was a decision he and his father had made together and knew would happen. He was now given to wondering if he should have stayed home and done more. It was the hour of guilt every man knows after losing a parent.
His friends came by to express their sorrow, and realized he wished to grieve quietly, to remember his father and relive words and scenes of earliest childhood.
And General Hansen came by and asked him how he