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MUNICH
December 1933
Leila gingerly drove Viktor’s battered old Mercedes on the icy road leading out of Munich towards the village of Dachau. The route was familiar, as she and Viktor had often visited the village in happier days. It sat amidst pretty countryside, and on many summer Sunday afternoons the family would picnic on the banks of a river. There, the couple would lie in the shade of low-hanging willows while the children paddled and fished for minnows. It seemed horrifying that this place – once associated with such happy memories – had now been chosen for the Nazis’ first internment camp.
Throughout Viktor’s incarceration at Stadelheim, and now at Dachau, Leila had written to her husband – sometimes as much as twice a week – but she never received a reply. Through her lawyer, Manfred Adler, she made frequent requests to visit him, but they were constantly rebuffed.
So she was astonished when she received a letter from her lawyer telling her that the authorities had finally agreed to let her visit Viktor at the new camp. She should present herself, along with her identity papers, at the entrance to Dachau at 10a.m. on 21December.
As Leila drove up the narrow bumpy lane that led to the camp, snow began to fall from a darkening sky. Finally, the road petered out, and ahead of her she saw a clearing, surrounded by barbed wire.
A uniformed guard flagged her down. ‘Papers.’
She handed over her identity papers, along with Adler’s letter.
He studied the documents ponderously, before nodding and handing them back. He peered in the back of the car as if checking for uninvited visitors. ‘You’re early. Park the car here by the fence, and wait. When the others arrive, you will be given admittance.’
She waited nervously, watching the snow settling on the car’s windscreen and bonnet.
A black Volkswagen soon drew up next to her. Inside she could make out Charlotte, Julius Zerfass’s wife. Leila braved the thickening snow and knocked on her car window. Charlotte smiled, beckoning her into the passenger seat, and the two women hugged each other firmly.
‘I wondered if you’d be here, Leila.’
‘And I you… I’m so glad to see you. It’s all rather unnerving, isn’t it?’
Charlotte nodded, her green eyes filling with tears.
‘We must stay strong for them,’ said Leila, taking her hand.
‘I know.’ Charlotte wiped her eyes. ‘Have you been before?’
‘No…you?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘But I did receive a letter from Julius.’
‘Oh, what did it say?’
‘Not much – I suppose they censor them. He just said he and Viktor were working in the gravel pits.’
‘That must be hard work,’ said Leila quietly.
‘Brutal, I’d have thought…’
Leila, who until then had managed to keep hold of her emotions, began to weep.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Charlotte hurriedly, ‘that was crass of me. I’m sure they’ll be OK.’
Leila wiped her eyes. ‘I hope so. And although Viktor is much older than Julius, he’s very fit, you know. And our lawyer assures me they’ll be out by the summer. We just have to be patient.’
‘Yes…of course, you’re right.’ Charlotte hugged Leila to her tightly. ‘We must have hope – we’re finished once that’s gone.’
The clearing began to fill up with people, some arriving on foot despite the weather. At precisely ten o’clock, four guards marshalled the whole group towards the camp gates. Set above the entrance was a metal arch inscribed with the wordsArbeit Macht Frei– ‘Work sets you free’.
Charlotte and Leila linked arms as they were funnelled into a guardroom to the right of the gates. Here they again had to show their papers, before being searched. ‘It’s as if they thinkweare the accused,’ murmured Leila.
The group was herded through the snow across a large parade ground, into a wooden hut on the perimeter. As they filed inside, Leila detected a smell that she couldn’t quite place – sweat, perhaps, or urine. The room was gloomy, dingy and depressing. It was also freezing cold and Leila was grateful for her fur coat and warm gloves. She wondered how Viktor – who had always suffered from a weak chest – could possibly cope without his own warm winter coat.
Long trestle tables had been laid out in parallel rows, with chairs on either side. The visitors were ordered to sit at the tables, all facing the same direction. Leila looked around as everyone took a seat. They were almost entirely women – wives, mothers, daughters, sisters, she presumed. As they removed their headscarves and hats, shaking the snow onto the floor, some looked anxious, others hopeful and expectant. One or two even took out powder compacts and powdered their noses. It was an act of touching normality, thought Leila. Like her, these women had probably not seen their menfolk for months, and simply wanted to look their best.
