CHAPTER 11 - OLDENBURG, GERMANY—OCTOBER 1, 1916
Anna retrieved a harness from a hook on the barn wall and approached Nia, standing on all four paws.
“You’ve made good progress over the past two months,” Anna said, patting the dog on the head. “But you have much to accomplish to become a guide dog.”
Nia wagged her tail.
Anna peeked through a warped glass window. On the obstacle course, Fleck and the trainers were working with Paul and his guide dog. With the exception of Emmi, who was trimming a shepherd’s toenails, she and Nia were alone in the barn.
“Let’s squeeze in a little practice,” Anna said, placing the harness on Nia.
“You better not let Fleck catch you doing that,” Emmi said, peeking over a stall.
“He won’t if you do a good job as a lookout,” Anna said.
“Okay, but make it quick.” Emmi scooted her stool near a window and resumed grooming the shepherd. The sporadic sound of toenail clips filled the air.
Anna placed a series of buckets and a shovel over the floor. She fetched a walking stick and tied a blindfold over her eyes, blacking out light. Clasping the handle of the harness she said, “Forward.”
Nia padded ahead, veering around a bucket to give Anna ample clearance, and then navigated around the remaining obstacles.
Anna gave a downward and backward jerk on the handle.
Nia stopped.
Anna removed her blindfold, kneeled, and stroked Nia’s back. “Good girl.”
Nia swished her tail.
Emmi stood from her stool and pretended to clap her hands.
Anna’s chest swelled with pride.
For the past several weeks, Anna worked with Nia each evening and on her days off from work.
Most of her free time was consumed with healing Nia’s paw and her surreptitious training.
Using a homemade harness, which Norbie constructed from scrap leather and metal tubing, she taught Nia to navigate a mini obstruction course, made from chairs and broken clock remnants, in Norbie’s workshop.
After Nia mastered the skill of guiding Anna, blindfolded and holding a walking stick, to ascend and descend the steep stairs of their three-story home, they ventured outside.
The trainers typically used blindfolds and sticks to simulate the behavior of a blind person, but Anna refrained from using the items in public.
She feared that news of her training might reach Fleck, who had strict rules on assigning instructors to dogs.
Although the homemade harness was rather unique, she believed that she could, if questioned by Fleck, provide the excuse that she was merely taking Nia for exercise, which was part of her and Emmi’s responsibilities at the guide dog school.
Together, Anna and Nia traversed the cobblestone streets of Oldenburg.
Mimicking the actions of the trainers, Anna taught Nia to stop at curbs, both up-curbs and down-curbs, as well as to navigate crowded streets, all the while giving ample room to avoid pedestrians.
Her training did, however, come with mistakes.
On one occasion, Nia attempted to cross a road in front of an oncoming wagon, and to prevent the collision Anna jerked backward on the harness and said, “Nein. Bad dog.” Anna disliked giving reprimands, which were tactics used by the trainers, but it enabled Nia to learn how to safely guide a partner across the street.
Also, after some trial and error, Nia learned to disobey Anna’s commands to go forward when encountering traffic or excavation on sidewalks.
Although Nia was intelligent and eager to please, her learning curve for guide dog training was shortened, Anna believed, by her ambulance dog experience.
Despite regaining use of her front right paw, Nia often limped—as if she had a thorn stuck deep in her pad—when subjected to consecutive hours of training.
Anna worried that Nia’s frail paw was a chronic ailment that might never go away, but neither she nor Emmi expressed concern to Fleck.
Instead, they predicted that Nia would, in time, make a full recovery.
Based on Anna and Emmi’s favorable prognosis of Nia’s condition, Fleck permitted Nia to begin working with trainers.
But after a few hours of drills the dog’s paw began to rise, and Fleck had her removed.
Although he was impressed with Nia’s performance on the obstacle course, he viewed her as feeble.
As days passed, Fleck grew reluctant to include Nia with training, which hindered her ability to form a bond with any of the trainers.
Anna knew, from her time at the school, that it was crucial for a trainer and a guide dog to form a strong partnership.
This relationship was critical, since it enabled the trainer to create trust between the dog and a blind veteran.
Nia was the odd dog out, like a fragile child who was shunned by classmates to participate in a hopscotch game of Himmel und Holle (Heaven and Hell).
Therefore, Nia spent much of her time in the barn, lying with her chin on the ground, while Anna and Emmi shuttled healthy dogs to and from the obstacle course.
Anna yearned for Fleck to allow Nia more time with the trainers, but as summer turned to autumn and the war raged on, time was running out for Nia.
“Let’s try this again,” Anna said, glancing over the makeshift obstacle course inside the barn. She covered her eyes with the blindfold, and then clasped the handle to Nia’s harness. “Forward.”
Nia padded ahead, veering away from a bucket.
Anna tapped her stick over the ground, searching for obstacles.
“Fleck is coming!” Emmi hissed.
Anna’s skin turned cold. She dropped the harness handle. Struggling to remove her blindfold, she tripped over a shovel and fell. A twinge shot through her forearms. She pulled down her blindfold and worked to remove Nia’s harness.
Emmi darted to Nia and unfastened a buckle.
Nia licked Anna’s ear.
“Not now,” Anna whispered, loosening the harness.
The clack of jackboots grew.
Anna’s pulsed pounded. She slipped off Nia’s harness, shot to the wall, and placed it on a hook.
Emmi tossed the walking stick and shovel into a stall. She turned to Anna. Her eyes widened. “Blindfold.”
Anna removed the blindfold hanging from her neck, and shot her hands behind her back.
Emmi clasped Nia’s collar, and they ducked into a stall.
“Fr?ulein Zeller,” Fleck said, entering the barn.
“Ja, sir,” Anna said, straightening her spine.
“Dr. Stalling and members of the Ambulance Dogs Association will be arriving this afternoon for a reception in honor of our first graduate. There will be a photographer, so I want things to be in order.” His eyes locked on the buckets on the floor.
Anna’s mouth turned dry.
“You can start by cleaning up this mess.”
She nodded.
“Find Frau Bauer, sweep out the back of the building, and then clear the field of dog piles.”
“Of course, sir.” Anna squeezed the blindfold.
He turned and left.
Anna exhaled, feeling as if she’d come within inches of a speeding train.
Nia poked her snout through a gap in the stall.
Emmi stood from her hiding spot. “Maybe you should limit your obstacle training to Norbie’s workshop.”
Anna nodded.
In the afternoon, over a dozen members of the Ambulance Dogs Association, including Dr. Stalling, arrived at the school.
There was a demonstration with trainers and shepherds on the obstacle course.
Afterward, a brief ceremony, lacking cake or celebratory drinks, was held in the barn to recognize Paul Feyen, the first graduate of the guide dog school.
Although Anna and Emmi had limited interaction with Paul, due to Fleck’s strict protocol on roles and responsibilities, they’d gotten to know him by caring for his shepherd.
Paul was gentle and soft-spoken. He worked tirelessly with Fleck and the trainers, and he developed an affectionate bond with his shepherd.
He’d come to Oldenburg a broken man who’d been blinded by an exploding shell.
Now, he would be leaving with confidence, a loyal companion, and the means to live an independent life.
Despite her supporting role, Anna was grateful to play a part in shaping his future.
And as Paul posed for a photograph with his dog, a sweet black shepherd with rather large, bat-like ears, Anna beamed with pride.
“Fr?ulein Zeller,” Dr. Stalling said, approaching Anna. “How are you?”
“Well, Doctor,” Anna said. “And you?”
“Splendid.” He gestured to Paul, patting his dog. “It’s a new beginning.”
“For both of them,” she said.
“Indeed.”
“The world’s first guide dog school,” Anna said. “Congratulations.”
He smiled. “This would not have been possible without everyone’s effort.” With eyes filled with gratitude, he looked at Anna. “Danke for your service.”
“It’s an honor.”
“How are you adjusting to your new work?” he asked.
“Good,” she said, despite her longing to train shepherds.
“The hospital staff often inquires of you and Emmi. If either of you should ever wish to return, please let me know.”
Anna’s role as a nurse felt like a lifetime ago. I was quite bad at giving injections and measuring medicine. “That’s very kind of you, Doctor, but I’m quite happy here.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “Here at this school, we are restoring sight with living mobility aids.”
Through the corner of Anna’s eyes, she saw Fleck approaching. Her heart rate spiked.
“Excuse me, Dr. Stalling,” Fleck said, stepping to them. “May I have a word with Fr?ulein Zeller?”
Her skin prickled.
“Of course.” Stalling tipped his hat to Anna, and then mingled into the crowd.
“Come with me,” Fleck said.
She swallowed, and then followed him outside.
“I have a problem,” he said, turning to her.
Oh, no. Anna clasped her arms.
“Several veterans will be arriving in Oldenburg for training,” he said. “There’s an issue with a boarding assignment for one of the men.”
“Oh.” Anna’s shoulder muscles relaxed. “My vater and I have plenty of room—”
“I wasn’t finished,” he said.
“Sorry, sir.”
“A trainer, whom I will not name, prefers not to have one of the veterans in his home.” Fleck retrieved a cigarette from his pocket but made no effort to light it. “Because he’s a Jew.”
A man fought and sacrificed his eyes for our country, Anna thought, yet he’s not permitted to sleep in a trainer’s home because of his religious faith. A burning bile stirred inside her.
“If the other trainers express a similar reservation, he will stay with me. I have no apprehension of having a Jew in my home. However, before I attempt to realign the boarding arrangements, I wanted to inquire if you would be willing to board him.”
Anna was glad to hear that Fleck, if needed, was willing to house the man, but she was disheartened to know that a trainer was intolerant of Jews.
She wondered, although briefly, if Fleck was worried that other trainers, if asked, would express similar concern.
Burying her thoughts, she looked at him and said, “Of course. He can stay with me.”
“Do you need to speak with your vater?”
“Nein,” Anna said. “Like me, he will be honored to have him in our home.”
“I’m glad this is acceptable.” Fleck placed his cigarette back into a silver case, and then rejoined the reception.
Anna entered the barn. With her eyes, she glanced to the trainers and wondered how anyone who nurtured the blind could harbor anti-Semitic beliefs.
She hoped that this was an isolated case, and that Fleck would have no tolerance for prejudiced behavior from the trainers.
Having lost her desire to celebrate, she slipped away to a stall where Nia was curled on a pile of straw. She kneeled and stroked the dog’s back.
“You wouldn’t treat someone badly because they were different, would you?” Anna whispered.
Nia nuzzled Anna’s leg.
Anna ran her fingers through Nia’s fur. If people were more like dogs, maybe the world would be blind to bigotry. She patted Nia until the congregation dispersed.