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"That's not good enough."
Carla knew she should not intervene. If they found out she was not Jewish she would be in deep trouble. She did not look particularly Aryan or otherwise, with dark hair and green eyes. If she kept quiet, probably they would not bother her. But if she protested about what the SS were doing she would be arrested and questioned, and then it would come out that she was working illegally. So she clamped her teeth together.
The officer raised his voice. "Hurry up--get those cretins in the bus."
Rothmann persisted. "I must be informed where they are going. They are my patients."
They were not really his patients--he was not a psychiatrist.
The SS man said: "If you're so concerned about them, you can go with them."
Dr. Rothmann paled. He would almost certainly be going to his death.
Carla thought of his wife, Hannelore; his son, Rudi; and his daughter in England, Eva, and she felt sick with fear.
The officer grinned. "Suddenly not so concerned?" he jeered.
Rothmann straightened up. "On the contrary," he said. "I accept your offer. I swore an oath, many years ago, to do all I can to help sick people. I'm not going to break my oath now. I hope to die at peace with my conscience." He limped down the stairs.
An old woman went by wearing nothing but a robe open at the front, showing her nakedness.
Carla could not remain silent. "It's November out there!" she cried. "They have no outdoor clothing!"
The officer gave her a hard look. "They'll be all right on the bus."
"I'll get some warm clothing." Carla turned to Werner. "Come and help me. Grab blankets from anywhere."
The two of them ran around the emptying psychiatric ward, pulling blankets off beds and out of the cupboards. Each carrying a pile, they hurried down the stairs.
The garden of the hospital was frozen earth. Outside the main door was a gray bus, its engine idling, its driver smoking at the wheel. Carla saw that he was wearing a heavy coat plus a hat and gloves, which told her that the bus was not heated.
A small group of Gestapo and SS men stood in a knot, watching the proceedings.
The last few patients were climbing aboard. Carla and Werner boarded the bus and began to distribute the blankets.
Dr. Rothmann was standing at the back. "Carla," he said. "You . . . you'll tell my Hannelore how it was. I have to go with the patients. I have no choice."
"Of course." Her voice was choked.
"I may be able to protect these people."
Carla nodded, though she did not really believe it.
"In any event, I cannot abandon them."
"I'll tell her."
"And say that I love her."
Carla could no longer stop the tears.
Rothmann said: "Tell her that was the last thing I said. I love her."
Carla nodded.
Werner took her arm. "Let's go."
They got off the bus.
