CHAPTER 33 - OLDENBURG, GERMANY—FEBRUARY 20, 1917
Anna, wearing her best Sunday dress beneath a tattered wool coat, accompanied Max and Nia into the barn for the graduation day ceremony.
Attendees—comprised of trainers, veterans and their guide dogs, and board members of the German Red Cross Ambulance Dogs Association—gathered near the woodstove.
Unlike typical school graduations, there were no diplomas, caps and gowns, or family attendees.
The only outsider invited to the ceremony was a photographer, who was setting up a backdrop in a straw-covered stall.
A mixture of joy and sadness swirled within Anna. She leaned to Max and whispered, “You did it.”
He looked toward her and smiled. “It’s all because of you.”
“And Nia,” she said, rubbing the dog’s ears.
He nodded and patted Nia.
Over the past several days, she’d brought up the subject of him staying in Oldenburg, and each time he’d declined, claiming that he wanted to give living on his own a chance.
She admired his mettle, as well as his determination to regain his independence.
But selfishly, she didn’t want him to leave.
I care deeply for him, and I can’t imagine my life without him, she’d thought while transcribing his piano suite.
Although she wanted to act upon her emotions, she’d harbored her heart, as if it were a dormant flower bulb stored in a shed to prevent it from blooming.
They’d went about their final days together, much like they had before.
They’d woke early and drunk substitute coffee with Norbie, trained until sunset, ate a turnip dinner with additives from Max’s government-issued lunch, and then sat together at the piano to record his composition.
Despite their aligned schedules, she’d had few opportunities for personal conversations with him, except during their time at the piano.
Fleck had instructed the veterans and their dogs to traverse the city on their own for much of the week, leaving the trainers with idle time.
And Anna was disheartened that her final days with Max would entail few walks with him and Nia.
“Gather in!” Fleck called, standing at a makeshift podium made from stacked wooden crates.
Anna joined Max and Nia near the center of the room.
Fleck—a structured, ex-military man who valued concise commands over verbose explanations—gave a brief but thorough speech.
He announced the names of each of the veterans and their dogs, gave a handshake to each of the men, and then turned the ceremony over to Dr. Stalling for closing words.
The doctor scanned the crowd and placed his hands on the podium. “I thank you, veterans, for your valiant efforts to protect our country, families, and loved ones.”
Anna glanced to Max, his blank eyes staring in the direction of the podium.
“I’m indebted for your service,” Stalling said. “You’ve sacrificed much, and the German people will never forget your selflessness to preserve the Fatherland from enemy peril.”
Max lowered his hand to Nia’s head, and the dog leaned to him.
“Today is a day of renewal and resolve,” Stalling said.
“You have completed your guide dog training, and I congratulate you. You should feel proud of your accomplishment. And in addition to regaining your own lives, you’re paving the way for many battle-blinded men to follow in your footsteps.
” He removed his eyeglasses and rubbed his eyes.
“I pray that your shepherd will be a trusted companion—and a beacon of light to guide your way.”
Stalling stepped away from the podium, and the group applauded.
Anna wiped tears from her eyes.
“Are you all right?” Max said, turning toward her.
“I couldn’t be happier,” she said, her heart breaking.
Dr. Stalling mingled through the crowd and approached Max. “Hallo, Max. Anna.”
Nia raised her snout, her eyes locking on Stalling, and wagged her tail.
“And you too, Nia,” Stalling said, patting her head. He clasped Max’s hand and shook it. “Good luck to you.”
“Danke,” Max said. “Anna has given me and Nia all the skills we need to manage on our own. I’m sure you already know this, but Fleck is quite fortunate to have her as a trainer.”
“Indeed,” Stalling said.
Anna forced a smile. She hadn’t told Max that Fleck called her aside yesterday afternoon to tell her that—since Nia was leaving—she would begin rotating between caring for dogs with Emmi and substituting for trainers.
Instead of Waldemar being on the sidelines, it would be her.
And she hadn’t informed Max because she didn’t want to dampen his mood on graduation day.
I’ll work hard to elevate my status as trainer, and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll inform Max in a letter.
“I’m glad things are coming along nicely for you, Anna,” Stalling said, appearing unaware of her recent change in duties. “And Max, I wish you and Nia the best in your journey together. Someday, I hope our paths cross again.” He tipped his hat and left.
The conversations dwindled, and the crowd dissipated from the barn.
Anna said her farewells to the other veterans, and then she, Max, and Nia hitched a ride home in a trainer’s horse-drawn wagon.
Inside the house, they were greeted by Norbie and Emmi, who had prepared a celebratory meal of acorn coffee, fried turnip, and slices of black bread drizzled with a spoonful of plum butter—which Norbie had bartered in exchange for an antique carriage clock.
With a few hours remaining before Max’s train departure, they gathered in the living room. On top of the upright piano was Max’s finished composition, Light Suite, that Anna had transcribed for him.
“You don’t want to forget your manuscript,” Anna said, retrieving the stack of papers. “May I place it in your leather case?”
“Of course, danke,” Max said, taking a seat at the piano.
As Anna inserted the composition into Max’s case, the scent of his freshly washed clothing filled her nose. He’s really leaving. Her chest ached.
“Would you honor us by performing Light Suite?” Norbie asked.
“Ja,” Max said. “But the pleasure is mine.” He positioned his hands over the keyboard and played.
A deep sadness swelled within Anna. We might never sit together at the piano again.
Memories of their shared moments flashed in her brain.
The night he opened his heart and revealed how his parents perished in the sinking of the Baron Gautsch.
The compassionate manner in which he empathized with her having lost her mutter at a young age, and how he labored to tune her mutter’s piano to honor her memory.
The day Max, despite the risk of being removed from school, convinced Fleck to permit her to train him and Nia.
His gifts of food to help nourish her and Norbie, and his courage to play the piano, overcoming his inability to hear the high-pitched keys.
The tingling of her skin as Max, desiring to know what she looked like, gently glided his fingertips over her face.
And the periodic thumping of Nia’s tail in response to their voices as they worked on his piano composition. I’m going to miss him terribly.
Max played the movements of Light Suite, and as he finished, he slipped his hands from the keyboard and placed them on his knees.
“Bravo!” Norbie shouted, his eyes welling with tears.
Emmi clapped her hands. “It’s so beautiful.”
Anna drew a jagged breath, struggling to maintain her composure.
“I’m glad you like it,” Max said.
Norbie wiped his eyes, and then blew his nose into his handkerchief. “Excuse my weepiness, Max. Your piece is most divine, and it stirs up emotions inside me.”
“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Max said. “But I think I know something that’ll cheer you up before I leave.” He placed his hands on the keyboard and played.
“ ‘H?nschen klein,’ ” Anna thought. It’s sweet of him to play Norbie’s favorite folk song as a departing gift.
Norbie grinned and joined Max at the piano. He sang the verses, insisting that Anna and Emmi join him. And for the moment, everyone was joyful.
Max finished the song and rose from the piano. “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go.”
Anna’s chest ached. “I’ll walk you to the train station.”
Max nodded.
Norbie approached Max and hugged him. “I’m going to miss you, my boy.”
“Me too,” he said, releasing him.
Norbie kneeled to Nia and patted her head. “Make sure Max gives you plenty of treats and belly rubs.”
Nia swished her tail.
Max smiled, and then extended his arm in the direction of Emmi.
Emmi leaned in and gave him a squeeze. “Take care of yourself, Max.”
“I’ll be in good hands with Nia,” he said. “I’ll keep Ewald in my thoughts and prayers. And keep up the grand work with caring for shepherds—they need you, and so do all of the veterans who will arrive in Oldenburg.”
“I will,” Emmi said.
Anna retrieved her coat. She fought to steady her hands as she slipped on her gloves.
Max, running his hand along the wall, located the coatrack. He put on his coat and cap, and then picked up his leather case and cane. “Come, Nia.”
Nia padded to Max’s side, and then followed him and Anna down the stairs.
They spoke little on the way to the station due to heavier than normal pedestrian traffic.
Anna held back, allowing Max and Nia to focus on navigating the streets.
And at the station, a large crowd of people were standing on the landing.
Eager to have a few words in privacy with Max, she led him to an empty bench at the far end of the station.
Anna fidgeted with a button on her coat. “I packed some food for you and Nia. It’s in a paper sack in your case.”
“Danke,” he said.
“Do you remember the way from the Leipzig station to your apartment?”
“I think so,” he said. “If I have any trouble, I’ll ask for directions from someone on the street, and Nia will guide me home.”
Anna’s shoulder muscles tensed. “Do you have any neighbors in your building who can help you?”
He approached her, following the sound of her voice. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to worry about me.”
But I will.
A train whistle blew in the distance.
Anna’s breath stalled in her lungs. She kneeled and looked into Nia’s eyes.
“I’m so proud of you. You’ve come such a long way, my sweet girl.
You have a special job to do, and I know you’ll take wonderful care of Max.
” She blinked back tears. “I’ll think of you every day. We’ll see each other again—I promise.”
Nia nuzzled into Anna.
Anna kissed Nia on the crown of her head, and then stood facing Max. “I’ll write you.”
“I’ll find someone to read the letters to me,” he said. “And I’ll have them write you back for me.”
The whistle blew, closer and louder. Anna’s pulse rate quickened.
“I guess this is it.” Max leaned in and hugged her.
She squeezed him. Her heart battered her ribs, like a bird attempting to free itself from a cage.
He released her and picked up his case.
A decision boiled in her gut. Do I say something now, or do I tell him in a letter? Before she changed her mind, she stepped forward and said, “Wait.”
Max stopped.
“Please don’t go.”
Sadness filled his face.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” she said. “Stay here—with me.”
“I can’t.”
She approached him and placed a hand to his chest. “I know you want to live on your own but—”
The train rolled into the station and screeched to a stop.
“I must go,” he said.
“But—” Her body trembled. “What I’m trying to say is that I—”
Carriage doors opened and passengers began to climb on board.
Max, as if he sensed her turmoil, placed down his case and clasped her arm. “Everything will be all right.”
“No, it won’t,” she said.
His jaw quivered.
Tears welled up in her eyes. She squeezed the lapel of his coat, attempting to gather her nerve. “I’m afraid of letting you leave and never feeling—for the rest of my life—the way I feel when we’re together.”
“Oh, Anna,” he breathed.
“I know you might think it’s far too soon for me to say such a thing, but I began having feelings for you the moment you arrived.” She leaned into him. “And I think that you might be fond of me, too.”
He ran his hand up her arm and gently touched her face. “You deserve the best, and I want to give that to you. That’s why I must go.”
Her heart sank.
“You have a wondrous life ahead of you,” he said. “Someday, you’ll meet someone who will make you forget about everything—the war, Bruno, and me.”
“No,” she cried. Tears streamed down her face.
A whistle blew, signaling the train was about to depart.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, Anna.” He slipped away, clasped Nia’s harness and his belongings, and—led by Nia—climbed on board a carriage.
Anna, her eyes blurred with tears, watched Max take a seat by a window. The train chugged away from the station, leaving the landing empty except for her. Heartbroken and devastated, she slumped onto a bench and wept.