CHAPTER 6 - OLDENBURG, GERMANY—JULY 18, 1916
Anna, her eyes filled with fatigue from working the night shift, entered the kitchen.
The pantry was bare, except for bits of wilted potato and carrot.
She lit a wood-burning stove, drizzled a miniscule amount of sunflower oil into a pan, and then sautéed a handful of leftover potato peels.
When was the last time I made Vater ham and eggs for breakfast?
Rationing limited citizens to only one egg per week, which was used in increments to add nutrient to meals.
Last year, the German government ordered the Schweinemord, the slaughter of over five million swine, which they deemed as competitors for scarce food resources.
But the bureaucratic government’s endeavor to produce food and preserve grain had not taken into account the use of pig manure on farms, and fear of a disastrous fall harvest was rampant.
The shortages were becoming worse. Grain was scarce and bakers resorted to using potato flour to make the black war bread called kriegsbrot, which often contained various additives, including corn, lentil, and sawdust. She wondered, although briefly, if Germany would be able to survive the British naval blockade, which forced the country to be self-reliant with producing food.
Anna’s stomach grumbled as she prepared a pot of substitute coffee made from tree bark.
But the ache in her abdomen was not solely due to hunger.
For the past several weeks, the frequency of Bruno’s letters had dwindled.
When he did write, his words were sparse, and he provided little detail about what was taking place on the front.
He might be occupied with fighting, or maybe he’s trying to protect me.
It saddened her to think that he was carrying his burden alone, and she wished that there was something she could say in her letters to end his solitude.
“Good morning, Anna,” Norbie said, entering the kitchen. His clothes sagged on his thin frame, and an extra hole was cut in his leather belt to hold up his trousers.
You’ve lost weight. Anna scooped sautéed potato peels onto plates, making sure to give Norbie a larger portion. “Did you sleep well?”
“Ja,” Norbie said. “How was work?”
“Okay.” Anna buried images of a soldier with gangrenous legs who died during her shift. I’ll tell him about it later.
Norbie poured the bark brew into cups.
“We’re out of coffee beans,” Anna said.
He took a sip. “It’s lovely.”
“That’s sweet,” Anna said. “But we both know that it tastes like ash.”
They sat at the table, and Norbie said a prayer, asking for peace and the safe return of soldiers.
“You gave me more,” Norbie said, forking a bit of potato onto Anna’s plate.
“I sometimes get extra food at the hospital,” Anna said.
“But you’re off from work today,” Norbie said.
“How did you know?” Anna asked. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you that Emmi and I traded shifts.”
“You’re wearing your engagement ring, and your mutter’s locket.” Norbie, appearing proud of his detective skills, tapped a finger to his temple.
Anna clasped the silver heart-shaped locket, which had been an anniversary gift from Norbie to his wife. Inside was a Lilliputian-size clock, which Norbie had crafted from a tiny, second-hand watch.
“I always wear the locket,” Anna said. “I keep it hidden under my uniform.”
“I’m glad,” Norbie said. “Your mutter would have loved seeing you wear it.”
Anna nodded.
Norbie ate a forkful of food. “I never knew potato peels could taste so good.”
She smiled, feeling thankful for her vater’s efforts to lift her spirits.
“What do you plan to do with your free day?” he asked.
“I have clothes to mend, and I need to pick up our rations.”
“Nonsense,” Norbie said. “You haven’t had a day off in weeks. The weather is beautiful. You could take a book and spend the day in the park.”
Anna took a bite of potato.
“Or perhaps you could pay a visit to the guide dog school,” Norbie said.
“Another time,” Anna said, putting down her fork. “I have much to do here.”
Weeks ago, Dr. Stalling gained approval from the government to open the world’s first guide dog training school.
According to the newspaper, the town of Oldenburg was selected because it already housed the headquarters for the German Red Cross Ambulance Dogs Association, but Anna believed it had much to do with Stalling’s influence, as well as his desire to help blind veterans.
The opening of the school, which was to take place in a few weeks, was often a topic of Anna and Norbie’s meal conversations.
He’d encouraged her to talk to Dr. Stalling about serving as a volunteer or, even better, getting a job at the school.
Although she desired to be part of something that could have a long-lasting impact on a veteran’s life, she’d dismissed Norbie’s suggestion on the basis that she knew nothing about training canines.
“The mending can wait,” Norbie insisted. “I’ll pick up the rations.”
“The lines are long, and you have clocks to repair,” Anna said.
“Fixing timepieces can wait.” Norbie pushed away his plate. “I know that you want to be part of what is happening at the school. What’s holding you back from talking with Dr. Stalling?”
Anna shifted in her seat. “I’m not qualified, and I’m quite sure that all of the trainers are men. It’s unlikely they’d require someone like me on their staff.”
“Maybe a nurse is exactly what they need,” Norbie said. “I thought the purpose of a guide dog was to care for the battle-blinded men. In a way, aren’t the dogs serving as nurses?”
She hadn’t thought of it that way, but Norbie’s words resonated with her. “I suppose you’re right. But even if I were permitted to volunteer, we can’t live without my one-mark-per-day salary, even though I’m only paid every three months.”
“We’ll find a way to survive,” Norbie said. “What harm can come from talking with Stalling?”
Anna wiggled her toes inside her shoes as she attempted to think of a rebuttal. “Most of the hospital staff, including Dr. Stalling, must know that I’m one of the least technically competent nurses. When the war is over, I’ll likely be let go.”
“You’re as good as they are.” Norbie clasped her hand. “Harbor your heart.”
Harbor your heart, Anna thought. It was the affirmation that Norbie seldom spoke, but in times when Anna needed it most. It was his way to symbolize how one can protect their heart in the worst of emotional storms. He’d first spoken the affirmation when he gave Anna her mutter’s silver locket, soon after her mutter’s death.
She’d visualized placing her heart inside the locket to protect it from the wretched sorrow swelling in her chest. And now, when Anna had horrid days at the hospital, he used the phrase to provide comfort.
Norbie’s affirmation was, and always would be, his mantra to protect and encourage his daughter.
Anna squeezed his fingers. “Okay, I’ll talk to Dr. Stalling. But when I come home, I want us to drop the subject of me training dogs.”
Norbie grinned. “Of course.”
* * *
After a thirty-five-minute walk to the outskirts of Oldenburg, Anna arrived at the Schützenhof, a large property with towering pine, poplar, and beech trees.
The grounds were recently acquired for the purpose of housing the guide dog school by the Grand Duke of Oldenburg.
In a clearing was a long, barnlike structure with white siding and a wood shingle roof.
Her disquietude mushroomed as she approached the building.
She clasped her purse, which contained a lunch of black bread and sliced, raw potato that Norbie had insisted on packing for her.
An authoritative, male voice, tending to make one think of a military drill instructor, shouted from behind the building.
Her skin prickled. I came too far to turn around now.
She buried her angst and followed a stone path, which led her to the source of the noise.
Three trainers, wearing light gray uniforms, walked over an obstacle course with German shepherds.
Black bandages covered the men’s eyes, simulating blindness.
In one hand, each trainer held a wooden cane.
The opposite hand clasped a rigid handle, which was attached to the harness of a shepherd.
Together, the trainer and dog traveled around the course, littered with stationary obstructions: puddles, rocks, felled limbs, wooden barrels, and mock curbs.
Walking against the flow of traffic was a supervisor, holding a clipboard, who appeared to be serving as a pedestrian obstruction.
Anna’s eyes locked on a shepherd, guiding a blindfolded trainer around a series of logs. She smiled. Vater is right—a dog can be like a nurse.
“Hallo, Fr?ulein Zeller,” a familiar voice said.
Anna turned. “Dr. Stalling.”
He tipped his hat. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“I have the day off from the hospital.” Anna, attempting to collect her thoughts, fidgeted with her purse.
“Did you come to watch them train?”
“I came to speak with you,” she said.
“Oh,” Stalling said, sounding surprised.
“Halt!” the supervisor shouted. He pulled down a trainer’s blindfold. “Don’t rely on your cane. Follow the dog’s lead.”
The trainer nodded. He fixed his blindfold and resumed his position beside his dog.
“Rolf Fleck is the supervisor,” Stalling said, lowering his voice. “He’s a bit rough on his trainers, but he has a stellar track record of producing top-notch ambulance dogs. I’m counting on him to do the same with guide dogs.”
Anna nodded.
“Why did you want to see me?” Stalling asked.
Her pulse quickened. Harbor your heart, she thought. “I’d like to work at the school.”
Stalling paused and rubbed his chin.
“I hope you do not view me as presumptuous,” Anna said. “If there isn’t a vacancy, I’d be honored to serve as a volunteer.”
“Are you unhappy at the hospital?” he asked.