CHAPTER 15 - OLDENBURG, GERMANY—DECEMBER 4, 1916
Using his left hand, Max clasped the handle of a harness attached to a German shepherd named Gunda and stepped onto the frozen ground of the training course.
On the opposite side of the dog was Waldemar, the trainer who had been assigned by Fleck to work with him.
Stationed around the course were teams comprised of a blind veteran, guide dog, and trainer.
“We’re going to practice the basic guide dog commands that we covered yesterday,” Fleck called to the men. “This afternoon, you’ll switch dogs and trainers. This will help me determine which shepherd is a good match for you—and which partner is a good match for the dog.”
Waldemar leaned to Max and muttered, “Clasp the handle overhand, not underhand.”
The man’s sour breath pervaded Max’s nose. He adjusted his grip.
“Trainers,” Fleck said. “You may begin.”
“Do you remember the commands?” Waldemar asked.
“Ja,” Max said. His mind raced, recounting each of the commands. Halt. Forward. Back. Right. Left.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Waldemar asked.
“Forward,” Max said. He felt a tug as the dog walked ahead. The pace of the shepherd was consistent with the other dogs that he had worked with the day before, however, he couldn’t help noticing how different it felt from his predawn walk with Nia and Anna.
Anna had insisted that Max get in extra practice before school, and she’d awakened him extra early.
They ate breakfast with Norbie, who had set his alarm clock to prepare coffee and fried turnip.
And while Norbie climbed back into bed for a bit more sleep, Anna, Max, and Nia traversed the still streets of Oldenburg.
Like an old friend who anticipated one’s thoughts, Nia guided him through town—to the train station, around St. Lambert’s Church, and to a pond near Oldenburg Palace.
Anna spoke nothing of Wilhelmina’s letter, and nor did he.
Although he was saddened by his failed engagement, he was relieved to have resolution.
It’s better to end it now than when I return home, he’d thought, shuffling over a snow-covered path.
But with the end of his relationship came a simmering dread.
I’m going to be isolated and lonely, unless I receive a canine companion.
He’d made his way to the training grounds, accompanied by Nia and Anna, with a newfangled resolve to do everything he could to graduate from guide dog school.
“Pick it up,” Waldemar grumbled.
“Schneller,” Max said to the dog.
They quickened their pace. Boots and paws padded over the ground.
“How long have you been working with shepherds?” Max asked, attempting to generate a conversation.
“Long enough,” Waldemar said.
Max probed further, but it soon became clear to him that the trainer had no intention of speaking to him, other than to give orders.
Under the direction of Waldemar, Max and Gunda traveled over the course, making several left turns, right turns, and stops.
Eventually, Waldemar steered them away from the obstacle area.
They entered a trail, which cut through a barren field.
The sound of the other trainers’ voices faded, and then disappeared.
Lumps of frozen earth and exposed rock made it difficult for Max to walk.
Using his right hand, he tapped his walking stick in an attempt to locate obstacles.
“Where are we going?” Max asked.
“Never mind where we’re headed,” Waldemar said. “Keep your focus.”
Maybe this is meant to mimic the difficulty of cobblestone streets. But why not do this in town? He buried his thought and continued walking.
Several minutes later, Waldemar requested him to direct the shepherd to stop, and then to back up.
“Halt,” Max said, giving a backward and downward jerk on the harness handle.
The dog stopped.
“Back.”
The dog and Max slowly stepped backward. The heel of his boot struck something hard, and he tumbled onto his backside. A sharp twinge shot through his tailbone.
“Watch where you’re stepping,” Waldemar said, his voice filled with irritation.
“Was that your foot?” Max asked.
“Ja,” he said.
Max stood and dusted snow from his clothing. How did your foot get behind me?
Waldemar glanced to Fleck and the trainers, who were far away and out of earshot. “You did badly yesterday.”
“Ja,” Max said. “I will do better.”
Waldemar approached the dog and patted its back. “Gunda is having trouble bonding with you. She’s the most amenable shepherd in the group, and I’m concerned that none of the dogs will grow attached to you.”
Max pressed his lips together.
“Maybe you’re not cut out for this,” Waldemar said. “You might want to think about resigning before Fleck has you removed.”
Max’s blood turned hot. “I won’t quit.” He clasped the harness and stared ahead.
For the rest of the morning, Max worked with Waldemar, who criticized him on his commands and maneuvers.
He was relieved when he and the veterans were given lunch, courtesy of the military, which consisted of black bread and a field sausage.
Huddled around the barn stove, the veterans ate their food.
Despite his hunger, Max only consumed the bread, and he stashed the sausage in his coat pocket. I’ll give it to Anna and Norbie.
Max contemplated telling Fleck about what happened with Waldemar, and he quickly dismissed the idea.
Based on his experience, nothing good came from a Jewish soldier complaining up a military chain of command, and he believed it would be the same for a Jewish veteran.
At the front, Jews were often given the more dangerous assignments, such as patrolling for enemy activity or conducting raids on Allied trenches.
Also, they were routinely assigned the less appealing duties of removing mud from the trenches, digging tunnels, and carrying away the dead.
And while stationed at Ypres, Max had witnessed a Jewish soldier named Konrad express dissatisfaction to an officer about a sergeant singling him out, because of his ethnicity, to empty rat-infested latrines.
Konrad was relieved of latrine duty but was permanently assigned to a unit—consisting mainly of Jews and insubordinate soldiers—to conduct nightly repairs to barbed wire in no-man’s-land.
Konrad lasted four nights until his body, ravaged by machine-gun fire, was found tangled in barbed wire, like a fly in a spider’s web.
Max resolved to keep his mouth shut. I’ll take everything Waldemar gives me, until I graduate or I’m kicked out of school.
For the afternoon, Max rotated with the other trainers, who were far different from Waldemar.
Although they were strict with their manner of instruction, they were kind and supportive and, during breaks, they expressed genuine interest in Max by asking personal questions and chatting like equal comrades.
And it became clear, to Max, that Waldemar was prejudiced against him because of his Jewish ethnicity.
Waldemar influencing Fleck to remove him from training wasn’t Max’s only problem.
He struggled to create a working rapport with any of the shepherds.
Although he liked them, and he assumed that they were tolerant of him, none of them were like Nia, who was gentle and smoothly carried out his commands, despite a slight limp in her gait.
He hoped that his lack of focus on his first day of training hadn’t tainted how the dogs viewed him.
For the rest of the day, he diligently followed instruction, like he’d done when he was taught to play the piano as a child.
With renewed determination—fueled by Anna’s kindness, as well as to prove Waldemar wrong—he practiced his commands with the shepherds, again and again.
At the end of the day, the trainers and veterans left, except for Max.
While he waited for Anna to finish her duties, he sat on a crate outside the barn.
A frigid wind stung his cheeks, compelling him to flip up his coat collar.
Although he was tired and cold, he was eager to hear Anna’s voice, and to walk home with her, Emmi, and Nia.
Having endured hours of commands, he longed for a cordial conversation.
Minutes later, the barn door squeaked open.
A patter of paws approached and he received a wet lick to the face.
“Hallo, Nia,” Max said, wiping his nose.
“How was training?” Anna asked.
“Better,” he said, not wanting to disappoint her.
“I’m glad,” Emmi said.
Anna paused, slipping on her leather gloves. “I told Emmi about Wilhelmina. I hope it was okay.”
“It’s all right,” he said.
“I’m sorry, Max,” Emmi said.
“Danke,” he said.
They walked to town with Max holding Nia’s harness.
Unlike the day before, he initiated conversation by asking questions about their duties and experiences with shepherds.
By the time Emmi took a separate route to her apartment, he’d learned about her nursing work with Anna, her husband, Ewald, who served as a medic at the front, and how Anna recruited her for the school.
Based on Emmi’s kind words about Anna, he determined that they were not only close colleagues but best friends.
Arriving home, Anna made a dinner of sautéed, diced turnip mixed with old bread crust. Max gifted Anna and Norbie the sausage that he’d stashed in his pocket, but they insisted that they share it.
So, Anna chopped the sausage into bits and added it to the food.
Finishing their meals, Max and Anna washed the dishes, and they settled into the living room where Norbie was sorting through a stack of phonograph discs.
“Max, do you mind if I play something lively?” Norbie asked. “The sausage has renewed my energy.”
“Nein,” Max said, feeling glad to have made a contribution to the meal. He tapped his walking stick over the floor until he located the sofa, and then sat.
Nia curled near Max’s feet.
“You might regret your answer to Vater’s question,” Anna said, joining him on the sofa.
“Why?” Max asked.