White Rose Black Forest(26)

“Hitler is making Germany strong again.”

“For the people, or the Nazis themselves? This will end in war.”

“The führer is being praised all over the world. Inge, my troop leader, showed us an article in the paper where David Lloyd George, the British prime minister during the last war, called Hitler a great leader. He wishes the British had a statesman of their own like him.”

“He sounds like a fool,” Sarah said.

“I know the Nazis better than he does,” her father said. “They are wolves preying on the German people, and I’m afraid, Franka. I’m afraid of the effect they’re having on you. Being with a boy like Daniel is only going to exacerbate that effect.”

“I’ve found my place within the revolution, Father. The National Socialists are instituting policies for the good of all Germans—you included.”

“What about women?” Sarah repeated. “They’ve been barred from many sections of the workplace. And the Jews? They’re being frozen out of German society.”

“I don’t know about the Jews. They’ll find their place in our new society.”

“Have you not listened to Hitler’s speeches? This man you follow proudly preaches hatred against the Jews. And what about your brother? What place is there for him in this new, perfect Aryan world?”

“I don’t know anything about that.” Franka stood up. “I think we’ve had enough political discourse for one night.”

She left them there, and her determination to follow the path of National Socialism only strengthened within her. She wasn’t going to let their quaint notions hold her back. This was her time, not theirs.

The next day, as Daniel held her in his strong arms, he asked how she thought the dinner went.

“It went well,” she said. “My parents thought you were an upstanding young man, and an ideal partner for me—the very picture of a young, Aryan National Socialist.”

Franka, like all the others, had been encouraged to report on her parents’ opinions and thoughts. All contrary thinking had to be rooted out at the source. She knew that any word to him would be reported to the local authorities. They would have dinner with his parents from now on.

Sarah proved everyone but Fredi wrong and indeed lived to see the summer of 1934. And though Franka was busy with her troop, she tried to make it up to the cabin to see her family as much as she could. Fredi’s body was growing, but his mind remained mired in childhood, as they had always known it would. The sweetness of his nature and the purity of his soul overwhelmed anyone who met him. He was perfect, untouched by the evil swirling all around him—above it. He and Sarah grew closer and closer as her health deteriorated. They all still hoped for the miracle she’d promised them, but with the passing of time, its possibility seemed more remote. Franka missed much of that idyllic last summer with them. There always seemed to be something to do with her troop, and there were so many young girls who needed guidance from someone as experienced and committed as she was. She knew her parents understood, even if they voiced their disapproval.

Franka was named troop leader at the end of the summer. Her mother missed the ceremony where she received her sash, had been too ill that day. Daniel was there, however, leading the applause, shining in the sun.

Those last few months of her mother’s life were agonizing in their beauty, miserable in their wonder. Her mother slipped away with effortless grace. They had the escape of one last Christmas together, and then the new year came with a ruthless reality. Sarah wanted to be at home. Her sisters came with their plethora of children but eventually went home to Munich. Sarah clung to life, defying expectations, and when the end finally came it was a surprise. Franka had somehow hoped—no, believed—that the doctors were all wrong, and that miracles could happen.

Sarah was with her family as she lay dying on that freezing January morning. Franka remembered her grandfather explaining that it was up to her to look after Fredi now, and that her brother could never truly understand, but she knew he was wrong. Fredi sat by the bed, resting his head on his mother’s chest, never crying and never moving. He knew exactly what she needed and was selfless in giving it. No one else knew what to say, or think, or do. Only he truly understood.

Sarah asked to speak to Franka alone, and the others left the room. The light of the morning was dull through the window and shone white against her mother’s pale skin. Her hair was gray now, the fire in her eyes reduced to embers. Her hand was cold as Franka took it. Somehow Franka wasn’t crying.

“My beautiful daughter,” she said, squeezing Franka’s hand with surprising strength. “I’m so proud of the young woman you are, so excited for the strong, mature woman and mother I know that you’ll become. You’re going to be a wonderful nurse. Don’t let anyone dictate to you who you are, or what’s in your soul. Only you know that. Remember that you’re my daughter, my beautiful, intelligent girl, and you always will be. I’ll be with you always. I’ll never leave.”

Franka had to wipe away the tears to see her mother’s face.

“Don’t let the new ideas of the National Socialists change you or let hatred twist your soul. Remember who you are.”

The funeral was five days later, attended by all of the members of Franka’s troop, as well as most of the local Hitler Youth. Franka wore her League of German Girls uniform, and Daniel held her as she cried afterward, her mother’s final words echoing through her.