Wartime lies - Louis Begley [23]
I tried to apply this notion to myself. It was clear that I loved Tania and my grandparents and, of course, my father, although he had left me behind and might be dead anyway. This would not change; we would remain true. I was close to loving Erika. I was not sure anymore about Zosia and preferred not to think about her. On the other hand, it was hard to imagine how the dirt and rubbish would disappear. The war would surely end someday, but what would happen then? Reinhard was convinced that Germany would win; it was winning. The occasional retreats of the Wehrmacht near Moscow, usually followed by advances, were just the hunter’s skill deployed against a dying bear; none of the other powers, not even England, could resist German hardness. I felt he was right. German soldiers were better. Nothing would stand in the way of their tanks and guns. But, in that case, were we not a part of the rubbish that had to disappear, perhaps even should disappear, for the sake of the future? How would that be accomplished? I put these questions to Tania. She would shake her head and say that nobody had ever defeated Russia or England; we just had to stay alive long enough. Deep in my heart, I did not believe her. The soldiers who were being routed on every front would not suddenly stop being inferior and weak. Besides, even if the war were to end without Germany ruling the whole world, I did not see how we could be rescued. The Gestapo would never allow us to walk out free from the apartment Reinhard had given us in Lwów, so that we could board some train for London or New York. The Germans would kill us as soon as they found out what Reinhard had done.
I missed Erika. She was a part of the future, even if the rest of us—Tania, grandfather, grandmother and I—were not. When we were still in T., she had told me about Germany and how strong Germany was. She was not in the Hitlerjugend, because she didn’t like meetings and marching around. Her uncle and aunt wanted her to join, but Reinhard didn’t care. Just like everyone else, though, she had done national service. It was required of girls and boys, first during summer vacations and then, for at least one year, full time. She had already finished her term in the countryside. She had worked on a farm. She learned to milk cows, to mow and bale hay and to work a harvester. They drilled just like soldiers. It was glorious. At night, they slept in large, airy barns, one for the boys and one for the girls, but if a boy wanted to take a girl into a haystack, he could. The life was healthy. She showed me how strong she had become: her breasts and the muscles in her arms and thighs were all hard. She could wrestle Reinhard’s good arm down anytime. The people of his generation had spent too much time in beer halls. That was why everything about them was so complicated.
She lived in Bremen with her aunt and uncle. Her aunt was her mother’s sister. She had been with them since her mother died, when she was a baby. That is what made her and me alike, two orphans, brother and sister souls. She thought her aunt liked Reinhard better than her husband. The apartment in Bremen was very small, nothing like this Jewish apartment in T. When Reinhard came to visit during her school vacations, he had to sleep with Erika in her bed, since there was no spare bed. Her aunt would get into their bed in the morning, as soon as the uncle went to work, and they would all joke together. The aunt would do anything to get close to Reinhard. My aunt was different, she and my grandmother were refined; they were ladies; one could learn from them every day. She didn’t care about Reinhard and my aunt; at least Tania wasn’t her mother’s sister. So far as she was concerned, it wasn’t our