The Trial

The battered Opel Blitz (1) rumbled through the streets of Berlin. Its creaking and wheezing reminded Gertrude of the death rattle of an old man. The tarp covering the back, ripped and smelling of mold, fluttered in the wind. Its exhaust belched a foul black smoke that stank of diesel causing her nausea. Looking out the open back flap, she found it difficult to recognize the city that had been the pride of the German people. Buildings were reduced to rubble and scattered like a jigsaw puzzle whose missing pieces had caused it to be tossed carelessly into the trash.

She watched though a haze of smoke and dust as the Berliners walked along the broken sidewalks. Their faces showed no joy or pain, just the apathic dullness the brink of defeat brings to a proud nation. They appeared as grey and lifeless as their surroundings. Emaciated children dressed in rags, played among the devastation as if it were the most natural of settings. As they passed a balcony, she saw a woman hanging from it. The placard hanging around her neck read, "I stole from my fellow Germans."

Gertrude turned to the solider sitting across from her. Dirty and in a uniform two sizes too large, the boy could not have been more than thirteen or fourteen. She saw that he had seen the woman also. As if reading her mind, he shrugged a shoulder and replied, "She was found digging through the rubble for things she could sell on the black market in order to get food for her children."

"That is terrible."

"She got what she deserved. We are all hungry. Even though everyone in the apartment building had been killed in an air raid, it did not justify her stealing." The boy's tone was not impassioned or angry, neither was it compassionate or pitying. It was flat without emotion as if he were reading some technical manual. The war seemed to have burned everything out of him.

Gertrude turned, unable to look at him anymore. How low had Herr Hitler brought her people. She wondered after the war, if there be anything left.

They came to an abrupt halt as the chains binding her to the wooden siding bit into her flesh, maintaining her position on the seat. She heard the slamming of the driver's door and the click of his jackboots on the pavement as he walked to the rear of the vehicle. Her young guard got to his feet and pointed his rifle at her. Reality narrowed until its focus was only on the end of the barrel, three inches from her face. She heard the rustle of the tarp and the rocking of the truck bed as the driver climbed into the back. The tinkling of keys and his jerking of her arms to unlock her bonds told her they had arrived at their destination. Pulling her to her feet, the driver helped to the pavement and along with the corpse-like youth, marched her to the red brick building known as Plötzensee prison. (2)

Her cell was an empty cinder block room with straw on the concrete floor to sleep on and a bucket to relieve herself in. Gertrude had held herself together reasonably well but when that heavy metal door clanged shut and she heard the key turning in the lock, she felt her composure slip away. She slid down the wall to sit in the far corner. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and laid her forehead on her knees.

Gertrude worried about her brother. She had not been able to get a message to him. Under the Nazi's rule, there was guilt by association. Albert could fall under suspicion. She had done this crazy thing not only for Otto, but for Albert as well. The Allies had promised her he would not face any war tribunals. Everything she had sacrificed could well be for nothing. Self-doubt and second-guessing her actions clouded her mind.

The door opened and a familiar face walked into the room. His beady rat eyes gleamed with glee and satisfaction. She did not bother to get up off the floor. Hochstetter appeared satisfied with her where she was.

"Frau Linkmeyer, I hope you like our accommodations."

Gertrude thought of a biting response but found she could not get it past the large lump in her throat. Instead, she sat in silence and stared up at him.

"Your accomplice, Oskar Danzig, was killed trying to flee arrest. (3) Your brother was suddenly reassigned to the Easter Front. It took us all by great surprise. And where is the famous Papa Bear? Are you not worth his attention? No", he said shaking his head sadly. "No attempts to free you. No one has come forward who will speak in your defense. You are truly alone. Abandoned by those you sought to protect. What loyalty have they shown you that you should remain silent? Save yourself. Give me the names of your contacts."

Unwilling to trust her voice, Gertrude kept quiet.

"Tell me!" Hochstetter yelled, causing her to flinch in response.

"We have ways to make you talk," Gertrude whispered, bowing her head and looking at her feet. She felt a sharp blow to the side of her face causing her see flashes of lights before her eyes. When her head cleared, she could see it was not Hochstetter who hit her but the guard who had entered the cell with him.

"I am tired of asking nicely. Now tell me what I want to know."

Gertrude's reluctance to speak resulted in another blow that caught her on her left ear and sent her sprawling to the floor. She could feel the warm blood trickle down her neck. Before she could regain her bearings, the blows from the butt of the guard's rifle began to rain down on her like the wrath of God. Whimpering, she tried to curl herself into a ball. In what seemed like hours but in reality was a few minutes, pain and shock caused her to slip into unconsciousness.

She awoke sometime later, not sure how much time had passed. Stiff and sore from the beating, she laid still on the cold floor. She thought about her Drei and if he was hungry and scared. She wondered if anyone was caring for him. Her heart seemed to skip a beat when she thought of how far out she lived from town. Who would notice until it was too late for the little dog? She tried to tell herself it was just a dog, an animal, not a person but her screamed Drei was just as much a person as she was. If only she had the foresight to arrange shelter, just in case, this occurred. Her brain scoffed at her heart. What was she to do, go to a neighbor and say, "Oh by the way, the Gestapo might come and arrest me for spying. Could you be a dear and take care of my dog?"

She began to laugh at the image of her neighbor's faces if she had said that to them. The pain in her ribs quickly ended the mirth. So, she lay there, alone and frightened, sick with worry for Odie. "He was a good man. He should not meet his end, shot down like a….." Gertrude tried to think of something else. Some way to escape but she knew it was hopeless. People did not escape from the Gestapo. They would not allow it.

The door opened and two guards stepped inside. She braced herself for another beating. Wordlessly, they jerked off the floor and dragged out of the cell. She found her footing and was able, with some assistance from her jailers, to walk on her own.

Two large doors opened and she found herself in a courtroom. Looking up at the bench sat Judge Freisler (4). She had lied to herself; she had harbored some hope. Now, truly, all hope ceased to exist. The best she could hope for was a speedy and quick end. There was no lawyers, no defense, no witnesses called. She looked at the camera filming the proceedings. Herr Hitler did love his late night movies. She heard that he liked to watch the films of the executions too. She shivered a little at the thought of that monster.

The charges read aloud and the sentence pronounced. It was a quick, easy, production line justice. Somehow, she evaded immediate execution. She reasoned it was due to the shortage of workers. Whatever the reason, her sentenced was to die at some unspecified time in the future. In the meantime, she was to serve her time at Ravensbrük (5), to work for the country she had so viciously betrayed. As Gertrude left the courtroom with her guards, another victim took her place. The entire process had taken less than fifteen minutes.

Taken from the prison to the train station, she was herded onto a cattle car, along with a hundred other people. There was no room to sit or lay down as the crush of bodies pinned her into one place. Some were crying, some praying, some eerily quiet. The heat within the car was oppressive. With the smell of so many bodies in such a confined space, it seemed the air seemed to have been sucked from the car. Gertrude struggled to breath but between her aching ribs and the oppressive atmosphere it was nearly impossible.

Due to the poor conditions of the tracks, what should have taken three hours took three days. No food or water given, no place to sit or lay down, the doors remained closed so there was no fresh air. People had to relieve themselves where they stood. She thought she now knew what hell would be like. Again Gertrude was wrong. She knew that when the doors opened and she viewed her new home for the first time.

A/n:

Opel Blitz was the name given to various German light and middleweight trucks built by Opel.

Plötzensee about 150 prisoners who awaited trial in the Volkgerichtstaf or People's Court. Often there was no evidence presented or any defense given. The sentence was always the same. Death came two ways, swiftly by execution or a slow brutal one in a concentration camp.

As we all know, Danzig was injured fleeing the Gestapo in "That's No Lady, That's My Spy" but survived.

Roland Freisler was a real person and one of the Judges of the People's Court. According to historians, he was a brutal man. He died on 3 February 1945, after the Americans bombed various places in Berlin, including the People's Court. He was disliked to the point that no one in Germany mourned his death.

Ravensbrük was a concentration camp for women, located 90 km north of Berlin. Gertrude would wear an upright red triangle, which was for spies, enemy POWs and deserters. The yellow letters NN would signify she was a victim of nacht und nebel, "night and fog". When inquiries were made by the family, they were told of the only there had been an arrest. Nothing else, not even the charges. Their fate left to the imagination. This was to instill the maximum amount of fear into the population.