Read Nightmare in Berlin for Free Online Page B

time to a craven delusion, not to end up standing — again — in his own parlour as a spurned host, rightly despised. It’s true! he said to himself then. I saw it coming with the persecution of the Jews. Later I often heard things about the way they treated Russian prisoners of war. I was appalled by all this, yes, but I never actually did anything about it. Had I known then what I know today about all these horrors, I probably still wouldn’t have done anything — beyond feeling this powerless hatred …
    This was the other thing that Doll had to come to terms with entirely on his own: that he bore his share of guilt, had made himself complicit, and had no right, as a German, to feel that he should be treated like people from any other nation. A man despised, a figure of contempt — when he had always been proud of himself, and had children furthermore, four of them, all still unprovided for, all not yet able to think for themselves, but all expecting a great deal from this life — and now to be facing a life such as this!
    Doll understood only too well whenever he heard or read that a large part of the German population had lapsed into a state of total apathy. There must have been many people who were feeling just like him. He hoped that they, and he, would find the strength to bear the burden that had been laid upon them.

CHAPTER THREE
    The deserted house
    Outwardly, the life of the Dolls changed dramatically in the first few days after the entry of the victorious Red Army. They had always kept themselves to themselves, living quietly at home and going about their business; but now, following a public proclamation, they were forced to report for work duty like everyone else in order to earn bread — a very small piece of bread initially. Shortly after seven in the morning, the two of them had to make their way to the designated assembly area in the town. On the way they were often joined by neighbours, but usually they managed to shake them off and be on their own, as they had been accustomed throughout their married life.
    They walked side by side in the fresh May morning, Doll normally deep in thought and only half listening to the chatter of his wife, who was quite content with the occasional interjection of ‘Yes, quite’ or ‘I see’. His wife’s ability to carry on talking endlessly had prompted Doll to dub her his ‘sea surf’. He said she reminded him of long walks he had taken earlier along the beach, accompanied by the constant rush and roar of the sea next to him.
    When they reached the assembly area — the school yard — the togetherness they were used to, and the sea surf, came to an abrupt end: men and women were lined up separately, counted, registered, and assigned to all kinds of different work duties. If they were lucky, they could at least call out to each other as they were leaving and tell each other what kind of work they’d been given, so that each would know what the other was doing all the time they were apart. ‘I’m going cleaning!’ she might call to him. And he would reply: ‘Stacking sacks!’ Later on, both were given a fixed job: he was sent to mind the cows, while she was put to work carrying sacks.
    They often didn’t see each other again until the late evening, both of them exhausted by the unaccustomed physical labour, but both doing their best not to let the other know. Then he would talk derisively of his labours as a cowherd, where a herd of over a thousand cows, which were not from the same farm and therefore had no sense of solidarity, had to be kept together and prevented from getting into the cornfields. There were eight cowherds on the job, but his colleagues were inclined to stand around in the same place and pass the time chatting. It was the usual men’s talk: how long would things go on like this, and the meagre ration of bread they got wasn’t enough to feed a single