Stasiland_ Stories From Behind the Berlin Wall - Anna Funder [78]
They kept him in the cell for two nights and didn’t tell his wife where he was. He was permitted no outside contact, no lawyer, no phone calls. Standard procedure. On the third day, the Stasi and the DA searched his apartment for more ‘pornographic’ material as evidence. They didn’t find any. They questioned Mrs Koch, who experienced a strange mixture of relief and focused terror: so that’s where he is.
‘They asked her’—Koch’s voice goes soft with distaste—‘they asked her about our sex life. They told her that, if there was something wrong in that department, they would understand and “it might account for why your husband has taken up as a pornographer”.’
‘No, no,’ she started to cry. She said there was nothing wrong.
The DA said, ‘Well, then, in that case, Frau Koch, I put it to you that your husband would only have prepared this pornography—’
‘What pornography?’ She was desperate.
‘—this pornography,’ he ignored her, ‘at your instigation.’ The only sound was of the other men rifling through the apartment. ‘It seems you have nothing to say,’ he went on. ‘Let me ask you something. Is there anyone who could look after your little boy for the next five years or so?’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because I’m afraid, Frau Koch, that, as the instigator of a pornographic scheme, the penalties for you are severe.’
She started to cry. ‘I don’t understand! What do you want from us? What do you want from me? Don’t take my child from me, please!’
‘Frau Koch,’ the DA said, ‘the way I see it, the only chance for you would be if you credibly, and I mean credibly, distance yourself from your husband and what he has done. Only then would it be possible for me to recommend lenience to the judge in your case.’
‘What do you mean? What is it you want me to do?’
‘It’s quite simple,’ he said, opening his briefcase. ‘All you need to do is sign this application for divorce.’
I feel a mild physical shock.
Koch says an application for divorce was put on the table, and it was already filled out with each of their names in full, their dates of birth, identity numbers and address. ‘She signed it,’ he says quietly. ‘She signed it out of fear they’d take the child away. Then they came to me in prison with this—this thing.’ He is disgusted again even in the telling. ‘They said, “Have a look at this here. It would appear your wife wants nothing more to do with you.”’ Koch lowers his voice. ‘At that moment my world broke apart.’
‘Three days later my Party secretary came to see me in the lock-up. He was a man in his fifties with yellow hair and a red face. He said, “Koch my friend, I haven’t been able to sleep for three nights! For God’s sake what is going on here? You were always so punctual and reliable. So diligent and orderly. We have got to get you out of this mess.” He walked up and down in the cell. “The thing is, if you leave, knowledge leaves with you. Operational knowledge goes with you! And knowledge must stay! Either you understand you have made an error in thinking by trying to resign, or you will be locked up for four and a half years so that your knowledge stays here anyway.” He spread his hands in a gesture of sympathy. “You know Koch, you’ve really only got one chance left: you have to take back your resignation, and, as proof that you have understood the error in thinking you have made, you will renew your pledge to lifelong service.” He put two documents on the table, already filled out: a retraction and another pledge. “Oh, and what’s this I hear about your wife leaving you? Terrible. You know, it’s times like these that we, the Party, we will stick by you, comrade.”’
‘Did you believe your wife would leave you?’ I ask Koch.
‘I had it in writing!’