Some Sunny Day 1/1
By Mistress V
This is a postscript to my HH story, "I'll Be Seeing You." I am posting it separately because it can stand alone, however, and its rating is K. For those who wondered…here's my view of things a few years later. All of the characters here appeared in the prior piece. The concert I describe here didn't happen, but many like it did. The title comes from the WW2 song, "We'll Meet Again."
October 3, 1993. Berlin.
Werner Klink gazed out the window onto a sunny October Sunday. It could not be more perfect a day, yet his mind wasn't on the weather. He paced back and forth, wondering what lay ahead.
"You're going to wear a hole in that floor," Johann Schmidt chided his friend. "Just relax and accept the inevitable. It's finally here, no matter how many times we thought this day might never happen."
"I'm thinking," Klink replied. "Thinking about everyone that won't be with us today." His mind wandered over the names, those lost in the 1953 uprising, and those whose time had run out before that happy day just two years before when all of Germany shouted in one voice, "Wer sind EIN Volk!" Faces came to him unbidden. Klaus Muller, Herr Markus, his parents, Uncle Wilhelm, Hogan.
"Now don't get all melancholy on me, you old coot. How would it look for Berlin's most popular Bezirksburgermeister to have such a sour expression on his face today, of all days?" Schmidt sounded exasperated but his expression was one of longtime affection.
"The same as it would for the chief political analyst for German television," Klink responded drily. He took a deep breath and adjusted his tie. "It has been a long journey, my old friend, has it not?"
"That it has," Schmidt agreed. "Here, let me fix that. Thirty years with the Berlin Philharmonic and you still cannot tie it properly. "
The two men made their way down a long corridor, out the artist's entrance and onto the Parisplatz, which was thronged with people. They stared at the Brandenburg Gate, open now for some years but still a sight to behold. The famous trees on Unter der Linedn, replanted decades ago, now rose proudly from there, their view unobstructed, along the heart of what used to be East Berlin. They shimmered and showed off their autumn colors like an old dowager airing her finest jewelry for a special occasion.
The free concert was touted as "One City: Endless Music!" and had brought together musicians from across Berlin, from many disciplines. Werner and his old friend would join two other artists in selections from Beethoven's String Quartets, Opus No. 18. Despite their busy schedules and the odd places life had taken them, the two never lost their love for music.
The concertmistress, a woman born in East Berlin during the first days of the wall's construction, strode to the front of the platform and tapped her tuning fork, then played a high, clear A for the rest of large orchestra to follow. Claudio Abbado, the Berlin Philharmonic's esteemed conductor, came forward and raised his baton. All of Berlin settled back to listen.
vvvvvvvvv
"Smile, Mum!" Robert Hogan said as he focused his camera. "One for everyone back home."
"Honestly, Robert, you and those pictures. But I guess this is a special day, so I'll oblige you." Margaret Hogan, now a still-youthful 76, smiled happily.
"Now, Mom," Susan Hogan reminded her mother-in-law, "the kids love getting pictures of you, you know that."
"I know," Peggy sighed. "But I only wish…"
Robert sat down and took his mother's hand. "We do too. But Dad's here with us in spirit and I'm sure he'll enjoy this concert as much as we will."
"He always said he'd watch over us," Peggy continued a little sadly, adjusting a fine green loden cloth coat around her against the breeze. Then she smiled again. "But it's not a time for sadness, this is a special day."
"That it is, Frau Hogan." A white-haired man in his 60's leaned forward to address Robert Hogan, Sr.'s widow. "Were it not for the bravery of your husband, my uncle would not have made it safely to America. We'd thought him lost in the war, and then one day I opened Der Standard and saw his photo."
"It was quite a shock, you can imagine," Frau Sabine Haller added. "Poor Ernst thought he had seen a ghost. Fortunately, Uncle Gustav was very much alive and we were able to persuade him to visit Vienna. And we also saw him in Nevada. "
"We cannot thank your husband enough for bringing the remnants of our family together again," Ernst Haller said gratefully.
"It wasn't just his effort," Robert replied "In fact , here are two more reasons the mission was a success." He pointed to the program, which listed an all German selection. Two familiar names were listed. "You'll meet them after the concert."
vvvvvvvvv
Robert Hogan got to his feet and looked around the table at Harry's Bar. He raised his martini and spoke.
"I'd like to propose a toast. I know we've already drunk to absent friends, but this one's to my father, General Robert Hogan. If it wasn't for his connection, none of us would know each other, nor would we be here today on this special occasion. I know he's not with us any longer, but I think dad's spirit lives on, especially tonight. So, here's to Dad."
Everyone clinked glasses and drank.
"And now I have something for each of you," Werner Klink added as he passed out small envelopes. "For years, this photo was classified because of the threat it could pose to operations in Berlin. Only a handful ever saw it. I am happy to say you may now each have a copy. I believe it…sums up the spirit of the man I came to know as Robert. He was a good friend to many of us and I was proud to have made his acquaintance."
The group exclaimed over the picture and laughter soon rippled around the table.
"Dad always did like masquerade parties," Robert said, wiping his eyes. "Thanks, Werner, it's a classic."
"You are most welcome."
The image was a bit faded, but still showed Hogan, Klink and Schmidt posing as Soviet army officers for the night, the night Dr. Gustav Haller was spirited out of East Berlin in a most unconventional way. Everyone was soon deep in stories about the outrageous escapade.
Peggy Hogan touched her husband's image and smiled softly to herself. "We'll meet again," she whispered. "I know we will, honey. Until then, be well."
The End. If you'd like to know more, read "I'll Be Seeing You," which is posted on the list under that title. It is rated M, but the adult content is mild and noted at the start of that particular chapter.