Chapter 18
Lizzie said she had visited the Tiergarten several times and had seen the gate. ‘That’s perfect, thank you. How shall I recognise her?’
‘She’s a tall, striking woman who walks with a limp. She said she’ll wear a bright blue scarf so you can easily recognise her.’
Lizzie had prepared for the meeting by studying various rail routes and timetables and had concluded through a rigorous process of elimination that the Berlin-Stuttgart-Basel-Bern line was the winner for her new courier route.
She and Hannah had travelled from Stuttgart to Berlin, so she knew what to expect for a portion of the proposed journey.
If possible, she must validate the entire route with the new contact, so she was excited to meet her.
Things were gaining momentum, and she already knew her way around the centre of Berlin and the major landmarks.
Lizzie took the S-Bahn into the city and walked towards Brandenburg Gate, thinking of Hannah, who would still be at work nearby. It was a shame she hadn’t known the details of her meeting, or they could have traveled back to the boarding house together.
It was a dry, crisp day, and Lizzie watched passersby hunch further into their coats as the fierce chill of early evening set in.
The view that greeted her as she approached Brandenburg Gate was magnificent.
The sky was a blazing red-orange, and the sun hung low on the horizon like a glowing bauble.
This was the golden hour, its beauty only blighted by the frequent sighting of German uniforms and Nazi flags draped throughout the Pariser Platz.
Nearby stood Berlin's famous luxury Hotel Adlon, which the SOE had briefed her on as a place of interest where Nazi officials, journalists, and foreign collaborators stayed.
Lizzie came to a stop near the gate a few minutes before 4.
10 p.m. and gazed around her, looking for Frau Fischer’s friend.
A tall woman stood on the other side of the gate, but she wasn’t wearing a blue scarf, and soon another woman hurried to her side, and they moved away and entered the park.
It was a popular meeting point, so several people came and went whilst Lizzie waited, pulling her scarf closer around her neck to block out the wind as twilight approached.
She checked her watch, and on the dot of 4.
15 p.m. a tall, impressive-looking woman with a blue scarf limped over to her and stopped at her side.
‘Frau Weber?’ she said, her voice a murmur.
Lizzie nodded. ‘And you are?’
‘Hildegard Bauer. Shall we walk in the park before darkness falls?’
They walked side by side, the sky now a swirl of gold and orange hues as they entered the park.
It wasn’t busy at this hour, but they walked down a path until they reached a secluded area covered by trees. Frau Bauer got straight to the point. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have long, as I must get home to my children. How may I help you?’
Lizzie could still glimpse her face bathed in a golden light that seeped through the bare branches stripped of their leaves by winter, and she was relieved that the woman seemed to be agreeable, with a kind smile.
When Lizzie met new contacts in enemy territory, it was one of the greatest hazards of undercover work.
It was critical to expand her network, but every new contact presented a possible danger that could blow her cover.
‘Thank you for meeting with me,’ Lizzie said. ‘I mentioned to Frau Fischer that I need some Swiss stockings and other items, and she said you might help me.’
Frau Bauer’s voice was barely more than a whisper as the naked trees shivered in the wind. ‘You understand it’s illegal for you to purchase these items on the black market?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘I do. If you would prefer me to purchase through a store that does business with your company, I can do that.’
The woman glanced from side to side and then shook her head. ‘You’ll never get Swiss stockings in the shops these days. They’re like gold-dust—only those with special connections can buy them.’
‘That was my understanding from Frau Fischer, and why I thought to meet with you. If I can pay you directly and it helps, I’m happy to take the risk if you are.
Their voices were a murmur as they discussed Lizzie’s order and agreed on their next meeting.
They had concluded their business and were walking back towards the park exit when Lizzie asked the question she needed an answer to.
‘I have always wanted to visit Switzerland, and I understand you work with a Swiss company.’
‘That’s right,’ the woman confirmed.
‘Frau Weber may have told you, I am a war widow and recently arrived in Berlin to start a new life. I’m eager to work but don’t enjoy being confined to an office or factory.
I wonder if you might have any opportunities in your import/export side of things where I could travel to Switzerland and help you with your business? ’
The woman’s limped gait paused, and she turned to look at Lizzie. ‘There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?’
Lizzie shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m not sure what you mean. I merely wish to be useful, and as my dear husband and I used to talk about visiting Switzerland together, I thought this could be my chance to do something worthwhile.’
‘I see. Well, we operate in Switzerland, but we already have staff who take frequent business trips to Bern to negotiate with Swiss suppliers and handle the administrative side of things.’
‘I understand,’ Lizzie said. ‘Forgive me if I overstepped. Sometimes my eagerness offends, so if that is the case, I apologise.’
The woman resumed walking and said she wasn’t offended and was only sorry there wasn’t an available position to offer her, but she would keep her in mind should something arise. ‘We need people like you,’ she said, narrowing her eyes as she studied Lizzie.
Lizzie thanked her again, and before they parted, she asked casually, with a smile, ‘If I were brave enough to take a trip to Switzerland by myself, what route do you recommend?’
Hildegard immediately switched to professional mode.
‘Our people take the evening train to Stuttgart and in the morning, they travel to the border at Basel. From there you can continue freely on to Bern. That’s the business route.
You shouldn’t encounter any problems as long as you have the correct papers to get into Switzerland.
It’s a long journey, mind you. It can take the best part of a full day.
Our people need another day to recover when they reach Bern. ’
Lizzie thanked her new contact again before they parted, and they went their separate ways.
The Brandenburg Gate was now a dark silhouette against a violet shimmering sky with only traces of blood red on the horizon.
The streets were busier as Lizzie walked back to the station, and administrative workers left their offices in the government quarter and hurried home.
Windows were covered for blackout, and although there was no official curfew for Germans, Frau Fischer had warned them not to go out after dark.
Over dinner that evening, Lizzie and Hannah talked about their day, sharing only things that were safe to share in case they were overheard.
Frau Fischer’s young daughter, who was usually on dinner duty, was clearing the lodger’s plates when an eerie wailing sound echoed through the large house, growing louder by the second.
Lizzie immediately recognised the haunting noise of an air-raid siren and jumped to her feet, as others rose from their tables, panic in the air.
Frau Fischer instructed them all to go to the shelter immediately, and they rushed out of the dining room and down the dark steps. They filed into the cold basement, all talking at once and jostling for a position in the dim light.
‘We haven’t had a siren for ages,’ said one lodger as another fumbled in the corner and lit a torch.
Soon the weak beams of several torches cast shadows onto the pale walls.
Lizzie and Hannah let the older lodgers sit on the shabby sofa on one side, whilst others sat on crates.
It was obvious most of them had followed the drill before, and once they settled down, the panic dispersed.
Lizzie listened for the sounds of approaching planes, and she and Hannah exchanged a knowing look, both thinking of the Allied pilots who were risking their lives.
Lizzie thought of her sister’s fiancé, Oliver, who flew with the RAF, and she prayed he was safe.
It had been some time since Juliet had received a letter.
It was strange to be on the receiving end of the Allied efforts.
Lizzie looked around at the other lodgers, but they seemed fairly calm. There had been no major bombing in Berlin, and soon Frau Fischer dismissed the air raid as another false alarm. ‘It’s good to be prepared, but the enemy isn’t bombing us.’
And sure enough, the all-clear sounded a few minutes later. The excitement was over, and the landlady offered them a cup of tea in the parlour so they could listen to the radio broadcast before they went to bed.
The radio crackled to life, and for the first time, Lizzie heard Nazi propaganda live on air in Germany.
‘Another failed attack by the Terrorflieger, repelled by our brave Luftwaffe. You can all sleep soundly in your beds tonight.'
Back in the attic and in their single beds, Lizzie whispered, ‘It’s odd to experience an attack as a German, isn’t it? What was the word they said on the radio?’
‘Terrorflieger. It means Terror Flyer. They call the Allies “air pirates” too. I read a lot of this stuff when I type the reports. Captain Garbles loves his propaganda!’
Lizzie stifled a giggle as she laughed at Hannah’s name for Goebbels. ‘That’s a new one!’ she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Lizzie said goodnight and drifted off to sleep, grateful Berlin hadn’t been bombed that evening but conflicted in her relief.
Hannah lay there, wide awake until the darkest part of the night, dreading what news she would discover when she managed to access the filing cabinet.
Had she lost Henry forever?