Chapter 17
When they were woken early the next morning, Michaela felt shattered. Not even a night-long vigil at a patient’s bedside had ever exhausted her as much as the previous day.
Her head was still spinning from the intensity of the teaching. It was worse than before her state examination, when she’d had to memorize entire anatomy books consisting mainly of Latin terms.
By contrast, Leonore sprang out of bed with a sprightly bound.
“Amazing! Yesterday was absolutely amazing. Are you as worn out as I am? And I’m so hungry!
I hope they give us a proper breakfast. Do you think we’ll learn how to use guns, and things like that?
That would be fantastic! The first thing on this morning’s timetable is radio transmission. ”
“Nellie, stop!” Michaela covered her ears. “I’m not even awake yet.”
Leonore bit her lip and managed to keep silent for a full thirty seconds before continuing her cheerful chatter. “This is all so much more fun than working at the factory. Aren’t you excited for the break from routine?”
“To be honest, I’m pretty exhausted. My head feels full to bursting, like you wouldn’t fit the slightest bit more in.”
Leonore grinned mischievously. “As a doctor, you ought to know that the human brain is never full. We can absorb so much more than—”
“Stop! Please. I need to wake up first.”
Leonore nodded with obvious reluctance and got dressed while Michaela dragged herself out of bed. “I’m getting old.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re barely forty. That’s not old. My grandmother died at ninety, that was really old.”
Michaela gave up. Shutting Leonore up was harder than giving a small child a dose of bitter medicine.
She didn’t seem to mind that Michaela didn’t answer any of her questions and simply babbled on until they left the room.
Outside in the hallway, she transformed from one second to the next into a different person.
In a grave tone, she said, “Today will prepare us a little more for our work for the Reich. For my part, I am very proud to have been chosen as an agent.”
Michaela inwardly rolled her eyes. Of course they were expected to act as if they genuinely had been recruited, but there was no need to over-egg it. There were already others in the breakfast room, instructors perhaps, or prospective agents.
Leonore spotted Herr Lange and Herr Seifert and steered Michaela to their table, where they sat next to a stocky man with a bright red face who was busy shoveling breakfast into his mouth.
Her years of medical practice led Michaela to suspect heart disease and high blood pressure.
For a moment, she wondered whether she might have something suitable in her medical bag, before she pulled herself together. She hadn’t come here as a doctor.
The stocky man introduced himself as Robert. “I am your communications instructor. That includes, among other things, radio messaging and microfilm.”
“I can’t wait,” muttered Herr Lange, whose hatred of this charade showed clearly on his face.
“I’m glad to hear it. It’s an important part of your work as agents,” responded Robert, his voice frosty.
Michaela felt sorry for Herr Lange. If it was difficult enough for her, how hard must it be for a person over fifty to learn so many new things? But she admired him for the skill with which he had navigated their mission so far.
Herr Seifert, on the other hand, had suffered no visible injuries in the last war.
On the train journey, he had told her that he suffered from a brain injury that caused paralysis in his extremities from time to time.
Michaela knew of similar cases where patients sometimes fell over without warning simply because they had lost control of one of their legs, and she made a mental note to keep an eye on Herr Seifert.
She smiled to herself. What a strange collection of agents we are: two war-invalids; one overenthusiastic journalist; and a doctor.
It was probably better for the Reich that they were only pretending to be agents. But they had no time to think, because Robert cut their breakfast short with the words, “Let’s go. Off to work. We have much to do.”
Leonore immediately approached Robert and engaged him in a conversation, which gave Michaela the opportunity to lag behind. She turned to Herr Seifert.
“Are you well?” she asked the visibly exhausted man.
“Well is a relative term. This is all a bit much for my old brain.”
“It’s not just you. We probably won’t need everything we’re learning here, nevertheless we should memorize every detail. It will be very useful in an emergency.”
He nodded in agreement. “You’re right of course, Heloise.”
Michaela flinched at her code name. Why did Lieutenant Hesse have to name her after that unfortunate woman?
The group spent the morning with Robert, who introduced them to the mysteries of radio transmission and photography techniques. On their way to lunch, they passed a room where documents were being forged. Several forgers were sitting at tables creating precise copies of stamps and signatures.
Taking a closer look at one of the documents, Michaela spotted a British passport. It gave her an idea. Even before she could ask why the forgers didn’t simply produce identification cards or emigration permits, her question was answered by Robert.
“Here we forge anything associated with a hostile nation. We aren’t permitted to forge documents of our allies, much less German documents. The Gestapo has sole responsibility for creating those.”
Too bad, thought Michaela.
After lunch came their scheduled session on fighting techniques. Michaela envied Grau and Mark, who were exempt, and instead rushed off to take extra classes in Morse code. Leonore, naturally, was excited to learn how to defend herself.
Michaela watched in wonder as the petite woman took on a man twice her weight and size and slammed him to ground, after being shown the move just once.
When it was Michaela’s turn, she froze, thinking of the very real possibility that she would break the man’s bones.
He used her hesitation and seconds later, she lay on her back, gasping for air.
“Why did you wait? He was opening up his side for your attack!” Leonore seemed aghast.
“I just…” She took the trainer’s outstretched hand, allowing him to help her up. “I’m a doctor, I don’t usually try to harm my patients.”
“Nobody here needs to know your real profession,” he said in a sharp tone.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Michaela wanted to slap herself for the misstep.
Grueling hours of physical exertion followed until it was time for dinner, after which they were finally allowed some free time. Michaela longed to lie down on her bed and nurse her aching muscles. Her roommate though was still full of energy. “Come on, Michi, let’s go for a walk to the lake.”
“Leo, I don’t know how you can summon the energy after the day we’ve just had,” she protested.
“It’ll do you good, you’ll see. The fresh air will blow the cobwebs away and you’ll be able to think clearly again.”
“You sound like a doctor.” Michaela had to admit there was something to Leonore’s statement. Reluctantly, she got up, laced her shoes, pulled a shawl around her shoulders and said, “Alright, let’s get it over with.”
As they walked by the lake, Leonore suddenly asked, “Do you think it will work?”
“What?”
“Our emigration. As far as I know, the Gestapo hasn’t approved it yet.”
Michaela stopped. She had asked herself the same question, and with every passing day she was feeling more uneasy.
Coming to the agent training center at the Quenzgut had given her new hope that things were finally moving forward.
Leonore’s question struck her like a surge of cold water.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Every day, I swing between hope and fear.
I get up in the morning full of courage, which turns into despair over the course of the day.
” She looped her arm through Leonore’s and resumed their leisurely walk.
“It doesn’t help to worry about it. We can only take things one day at a time. ”
“That’s not exactly my forte.”
Michaela had to laugh. “You can say that again. Try to be patient. Herr Lange speaks of his contacts in the Abwehr in the highest terms and is always saying that Operation Seven is more than just a job to them. They’re doing this out of a deep inner conviction.
That’s why I hold on to the hope that it will work. ”
“Lieutenant Hesse is quite handsome, don’t you think?”
“Have you taken a shine to him?”
Caught off guard, Leonore winced. “Maybe a little.”
“A relationship with him is completely out of the question.” Michaela shook her head.
Relationships between an Aryan and a Jew were now called racial defilement by the Nazis and both the Jewish and the Aryan partner were punished with harsh sanctions.
Her grief over Dieter hit her suddenly with such force that she felt dizzy.
She stopped and leaned forward, waiting for the spinning in her head to stop.
“Are you not feeling well? Do you want to sit down?” Leonore looked at her in dismay.
“No, I’ll be all right. It’s just…” Michaela shrugged helplessly.
She didn’t want to talk about Dieter, or she would burst into tears on the spot.
They had been together for so many years, had weathered good and bad times together, had always been there for one another, and now he was no longer there for her.
Even though she had shouldered most of the burden in recent years due to his illness, she missed his silent encouragement.
The way he had filled her with renewed confidence and energy with a loving look, or the caress of his thumb against the back of her hand.
Even during his final days, she always felt his support, that she could rely on him, that his love for her would never end.
Defiantly, Michaela wiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s just that things have been getting too much for me lately.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Leonore looked at her friend with eyes narrowed.
“Definitely not.” Dieter had been too weak for that for several months.
“Phew. That’s lucky.” Leonore’s hand flew to her mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, but the coming years in exile will be hard enough without a baby to think of.”
“You’re right.” The thought of their imminent escape to Switzerland drove away the overwhelming grief and a gentle smile crept onto Michaela’s lips. “Which brings us back to Lieutenant Hesse. A dalliance with him would put Operation Seven in jeopardy if it came out.”
Leonore rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid. But a girl’s allowed to dream.”
“As long as it remains a dream. Lieutenant Hesse is our ticket to freedom. You can’t even risk a flutter of the eyelashes. Everything has to appear above board.”
“Just like our stay here.” Leonore giggled. “Did you see how Herr Lange’s face almost froze with disapproval? When he had to compose a radio message, he stared at the radio as if it were alive.”
“Yes. He’s taking it very seriously that we will only be pretending to be agents.” His behavior had caused Michaela plenty of concern. “If he doesn’t pull himself together, this whole charade might fall apart because of his distaste at our training.”
“Well, I think it’s phenomenal.”
“Herr Lange’s attitude?” Michaela frowned.
“Of course not. The spy training. We’re learning so many exciting things here. Invisible ink, microfilm, forgery… who knows when it might come in handy?”
Michaela could almost see the wheels turning in Leonore’s mind. “Keep well away from it,” she warned. “At least for as long as we’re trapped in Germany.”
“Understood, Frau General!” Leonore stood stiff and upright, holding her free left hand to her forehead. She was truly impossible.
As much as Michaela liked her, she wished Leo would take the operation more seriously. This wasn’t an adventure; it was literally a flight for their lives.