I can't remember the details specifically, all I do remember is that I was playing in the street in front of my father's café with Pablo, our border collie, when two moss green army trucks rounded the corner, stopped, and at least twenty fully armed soldiers scuttled out. I thought nothing of it at the time so I continued playing, throwing the ball against the wall for Pablo to try and catch. It was not until I heard the first rounds of fire that the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
My father came hobbling out if his café, an angry and confused look on his face, looking as if he were about to shout down the soldiers who had caused the racket. He was a big man my father, he had easily managed to keep his large muscles and fit physique despite only having one fully functioning leg. But his face instantly paled ghostly white as he looked down the street, towards the soldiers.
The only person, in the whole world, I thought could never be frightened looked across at me with terrified, almost animal like fear in his eyes. He beckoned me to him and dropping Pablo's ball I ran over. He scooped me up and held me tightly, crushing me to his chest, it hurt but it made me feel safer. I asked him what was going on.
"Nothing, flower; everything is going to be alright." He answered me quietly and as confidently as he could, but I unwillingly saw through his lie.
He wasn't looking at me, so I followed his gaze and found that three of the soldiers were walking towards us. I recognized the lead one, he was a regular at our café and we knew him well enough to call him friend. I eased a bit, but my father's grip on me tightened.
"Hans, what's going on?" my father asked him.
"I'm sorry Albert, but you have to come with us," the young soldier said, genuine grief in his familiar kind voice. One of the soldiers had gone into the café while the other was knelt beside Pablo stroking him and talking to him softly.
My father nodded slowly, then looked at my confused expression, smiled solemnly and positioned me more securely on his hip, "We all knew this day was coming," he sighed to himself, then he reluctantly looked back at Hans, "Take good care of her," he said in a strong, almost threatening, voice.
Hans hesitated, "You know I can't promise that, Albert," he said painfully.
"I know, but it will put my mind at rest knowing that you'll try everything in your power to, at least, keep her safe."
After a moment, Hans nodded sincerely, "Whenever you're ready, Albert, but I can't stall them for long." He walked away to allow my father to say his goodbye.
I looked at my father, confusion along with fear now etched onto my face. He smiled.
"Now, you need to be a good, brave girl for papa now, I don't want to hear a bad word said about you from Sergeant Hans, now, can you promise me that?" I nodded profusely as tears welled in my eyes, I had read his mind; I knew what was coming. We would be separated, possibly forever, onto the two different trucks, he with the men and me with the women and children. "No tears, Evie," he chuckled, knowing what I had just seen. He gently wiped the tears from my cheeks, "You are a citizen of Berlin, your family has lived here for generations, therefore you are a proud German, no matter what religion your parents practiced; don't let them tell you otherwise." By the manner of his tone, he could have been tucking me into bed having just read me a bedtime story and given me an extra cookie with my supper, but I knew differently, he had just told me that the situation I was in would require me to be strong.
I nodded again and wiped all the wetness from my face to show him I would do what he asked. I giggled lightly as he smiled broadly with pride and tapped my nose affectionately.
"Ready, Albert," Hans was back.
My father angled his head to the sergeant in reply. Then he wrapped his arms around me, kissed my nose, after which I snuggled into his warm, protective chest, then, with one last squeeze he whispered in my ear.
"Ich liebe dich, meine wunderkind."
I love you, my miraculous girl.
