Chapter 34 A Risky Move
A Risky Move
Berlin
There was still no news of Derek. The earth had swallowed him whole. Blaz was able to verify that Derek’s name did not appear
on any official detention list and that there were no charges against him listed on his records. Even so, Blaz kept pushing
his contacts in the Gestapo and the SS to find him. The danger increased with each passing day, as whoever had arrested him
could do as they pleased. The Gestapo was not bound by legal formalities but functioned with complete impunity. Derek was
one of the many who disappeared every day, leaving no trace behind.
Helene was driven to distraction with worry about her husband and with longing for her children.
She called Alexander and Matilde every day when Blaz wasn’t home, and she knew Gisela would make sure they were cared for.
But maneuvering life without them felt like walking around with half her body and heart.
The only worry she could do anything about was her concern for the Secret Library.
All the time and energy she couldn’t spend on her family, she poured into the books.
Working steadily, it took Helene, Lena, and Gabor several weeks to organize the transfer of the whole collection. She had
gone with Gabor to see the hangar, hoping that it would serve as the next resting spot, even if just for a time. But it was
too damp, and the books would not survive the winter there. They would have to find something more suitable.
They spent several days studying maps of Berlin and making calls. Then an idea struck Lena. Her family had a large summer
home in Grunewald, the densely wooded area on the west side of Berlin, overlooking the Havel River. They would escape the
city’s blistering heat there in the forest shade with the breeze coming off the river, but since the start of the war, it
remained unused.
Lena’s due date was close, so Helene went to see the house with Gabor, who was jittery with nerves about their baby’s imminent
arrival.
The house was perfect. There were plenty of rooms upstairs to house the books, as well as a large basement wide and tall enough
for several rows of shelves.
They starting making plans right away. It would take Klaus and Helene, working together with ten of Gabor’s friends, two or three days to box up the holdings of the Secret Library on Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse.
They would need to acquire four large cargo trucks, along with falsified approvals to get them through the checkpoints.
There were now dozens throughout the city, and the operation could go awry at any of them.
They would load the trucks one at a time, and each would depart right away, taking a different route.
That way, if one were intercepted, at least they wouldn’t lose all four.
When the trucks reached the Grunewald house, the drivers would start unloading immediately and then return the trucks.
It would be up to Helene and Klaus to organize the books later, but there would be time for that.
The urgency was getting the tomes from Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse to Grunewald.
Focusing on the details of the transfer took Helene’s mind off Derek and the kids during the day. But at night, sleeping alone
among the books at the Secret Library, she wept uncontrollably. The summer heat was just beginning, and Helene felt she had
been sentenced to an eternity in the inferno.
The entire crew was a ball of nerves on the day of the transfer. It was unseasonably warm, but at least there was no rain
on the horizon. The first truck arrived on time, and they got to work. With so many helpers, they had it fully packed within
thirty minutes. Gabor and one of his friends were the assigned drivers, and Helene gave them a nervous thumbs-up as they drove
away.
Loading the second and third trucks also went according to plan. Helene had assigned herself the last truck so she could stay
and close up the building. Gabor’s friends were all in peak condition, and those who were still there when the fourth truck
came worked as if they were fresh arrivals. It only took them a little longer than they had with the first truck. Helene had
made one last pass through the building that had been her workplace and then refuge for the past seven years, making sure
no book had been forgotten and no evidence pointing to any of her colleagues was left behind.
From the passenger seat, Helene glanced at the Gestapo building as the fourth truck pulled away.
She was glad to have it out of her life.
Seeing its gray facade had been a daily reminder of her own captivity, as well as the torture suffered by so many others.
She had no way of knowing that Derek, growing more emaciated by the day, was still languishing in an anonymous cell in the basement, as Kummer had managed to get no information out of him.
The third truck ran into trouble. Klaus and the driver, one of Gabor’s friends, had cleared all the checkpoints and were heading
west of downtown when a patrol car pulled up and indicated for them to stop. The driver slowed and parked the truck on the
side of the road. Two policemen walked up and motioned for the men to come out.
“Everything’s in order, officer,” Klaus said, handing over the paperwork.
“‘Cargo: paper documents intended for offsite storage’?” the policeman read aloud, skeptical.
“Yes, sir,” Klaus answered, imbuing his tone with the confidence of a man just doing the job he had been assigned. Sweat was
pouring down his sideburns, but, given the heat, that was not necessarily suspicious.
“We’ll have a look.”
The four men walked to the back of the truck, and Klaus opened the doors. The boxes were in neat rows, stacked to the ceiling.
One of the policemen hopped up, pulled a box down, and opened it. At first he was puzzled. Books were, after all, paper documents
like the authorization said. He pulled down a second box and saw the title A Farewell to Arms. He picked up the book and turned to the other officer.
“Isn’t this on the list of . . .?”
At that, the truck driver got scared and made a run for it. The first policeman reacted immediately, pulling out his pistol
and shooting. Gabor’s friend slammed to the ground just yards from the truck.
Klaus raised his own hands, trembling violently as he watched Gabor’s friend twitching on the roadside.
He did not know if he was strong enough to make it in a Nazi prison.
Klaus had always thought of himself as a weakling.
But at least he could not give his friends away.
Helene had made sure that only the drivers knew the location of Lena’s home in Grunewald.
And Klaus had never been good with directions.
Across town at the Grunewald home, once Helene’s truck was unloaded, she and Gabor waited at the house for a couple of hours.
Their hearts sank with every passing minute. Finally, they admitted that the third truck must have been intercepted. Looking
at the piles of boxes, Helene thought of Klaus, now likely detained—or worse.
Was a book worth the price of a human life? She could not answer. She sat on a box and wept bitterly. Gabor, his efforts to
console her useless, left her there to return home to Lena.