Spirit of the Nation ★ Female America

3. Leaving Germany

May 13, 1955

Bundeshaus

West Berlin, West Germany

I unlocked the file drawer on my desk and pulled it open for the last time. Folders, letters, and various unclassified documents lay scattered inside. I released a sigh as I pulled them out one clump at a time. The final stack was enormous, representing ten years of difficult memories.

Today, the Federal Republic of Germany, or simply West Germany, became an independent government. Meanwhile, the communist government of East Germany, the German Democratic Republic, had become a satellite state of the Soviet Union in all but name. Negotiations on reunification had long grown cold—Germany would remain divided for the foreseeable future.

As one of the last foreigners in the building, my sense of urgency seemed to impede my judgment as I sorted the papers into my briefcase or the trash can.

Finally, I left the office and made my way toward the elevator—

"Hallo."

An unnecessary surge of adrenaline flooded my system. "Germany," I breathed out, my hand on my beating heart. "I...I was just leaving."

He wore his usual drab suit and guarded expression. He gestured in the direction of his office down the hall. "I was coming to say 'goodbye.'"

I smoothed the lace collar of my blouse. "See me out?"

He was only too eager to oblige.

Only the soft chime of the elevator's arrival broke the silence. I stepped inside, wishing it would simply teleport us to the ground floor. When Germany reached over to press the button, I moved back. We were about the same height, but he took up much more space than me.

The doors slowly, slowly slid shut.

I checked my watch. Germany cleared his throat.

"The Marshall Plan," he said, naming the elephant in the room. "West Germany will forever be indebted to the US."

How convenient, I wanted to say.

"Nonsense," I breathed instead.

My mind suddenly began to race. I realized that those billions of US dollars might have given him the impression that I wished to be friends. My eyes darted up to the floor indicator.

When I pulled the emergency stop lever, the elevator jolted to a halt between the last two floors. Unprepared, Germany stumbled and clutched the railing. He asked a million questions with his eyes.

Just making eye contact with him gave rise to the all-too-familiar pit in my stomach.

"I don't speak with Mexico," I attempted to explain. "I don't speak with Spain...or Japan. And trust me, it's not for their lack of trying."

After a moment, he slowly nodded his head. "Understood," he said vacantly.

I released the lever.

The elevator lurched downward, and then the doors slowly slid open. Thankfully, most of the American team had already gathered in the lobby. As I left the elevator, I pressed the button to send Germany back up.

I nodded to him as the doors began to close. "Good luck."

With a bit of an edge, he replied, "Auf Wiedersehen."

~

A/N: What do you think of their rocky restart? Comment and let me know!

Auf Wiedersehen | Goodbye.