Projekt Liebe

Abendessen mit Nazis

"Your German is so good!" The German army captain's wife remarked to the brunet boy sitting next to me. "If I didn't know your father was the Irish ambassador, I would think you grew up here in Berlin!"

I bit my cheek, holding back a sigh. I knew German too; it wasn't that hard. You just say du, die, ein, eine, and voilà—you're practically fluent. I straightened my collar and took another bite of cake.

"Michael's always had a good head for languages," his father said across from me. "We've only been here for six years, but he already speaks German better than I do!"

I smiled politely and nodded, "I can tell. He is quite amazing at it!"

I looked at the boy that they were talking about. Michael was about my age. I had never met him personally, but he had held the door for me earlier this night- so I didn't have anything against him.

Besides the fact that he was a Nazi.

I don't have anything against the Nazis- well, I do. I have plenty of things against the Nazis.

But I'm a Nazi as well. I'm also a hypocrite.

I'm also Birgitta Bernadotte. And I'm also part of the Jungmädelbund.

"Michael's always had an exceptional memory, haven't you, son?" His mother said, disrupting my thoughts. And by Michael's body language, I could tell it disrupted his as well.

"It's true," my father said. "Michael reads in German, tells jokes in German. I think he even dreams in German!"

The adults around us at the table gave him a polite laugh and turned back to their dinner.

"You are a better German than some Germans," A Nazi said to him. His name was Trumbauer, and his rank within the SS was Obersturmführer, which meant senior assault leader. He was not a pretty sight, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Just today, we raided the home of a German couple who were hiding a Jew in their attic. Right here in Berlin!" He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the stupidity of some people.

"How did you know they were hiding a Jew?" I asked. Honestly, how would he? Jews looked the same as normal people. If you lined them up I couldn't tell the difference.

SS-Obersturmführer Trumbauer cut out a bite of cake with his fork and lifted it. "Good question- Their son reported them."

"What happened to them?" The O'Shaunessy boy asked.

"Hmm?" SS-Obersturmführer Trumbauer said, swallowing his cake. "Oh. The Germans were taken into protective custody at Dachau, of course. The Jew was shot while trying to escape."

I covered my mouth and gasped, but after realizing I was getting strange looks, I shook my head, "I'm sorry. I still have not gotten used to the mention of death quite yet, even in the case of Je-"

I was cut off by the sound of glass shattering.

The O'Shaunessy boy dropped his glass and stained his uniform sleeve.

"Oh, dear!" His mother, Megan, said, standing up. "Is there someplace where Michael can get cleaned up?"

I pulled up my bag and ran to him, "I could help! We learn first aid in Jungmädelbund- in case he got any glass in his hand! Even the smallest piece can be quite fatal. Also I know how to get stains out of clothing! In case the juice won't cooperate very well."

He pushed away my medical bag and shook his head, "I can do it myself." He shot at me before hurrying out of the dining room.

His mother apologized for him. "I'm sorry. Now that he's thirteen, he won't let me do anything for him, either. He'll be all right."

I nodded my head as I sat back in his chair, "I understand how that is. I can be tricky sometimes as well." I said with a laugh.

As the adults continued with their chatting, they eventually moved onto cigarettes and coffee. I fanned the air and coughed, "May I please be excused for a moment?" I asked my father.

He nodded, and I quickly slipped out of the room.

As I climbed the stairs, I could hear the butler moving around with a clinking glass on his tray. I quickened my steps, hoping to get to the bathroom fast to avoid an awkward encounter.

I looked at some paintings on the wall, and as I turned my head back forward, I smacked straight into the butler.

"I'm so sorry, Sir! I- why are you holding a drink if there is nobody upstairs?"

His cheeks flushed and he shook his head, "No, No, I was headed downstairs. Do not mind me!"

He rushed down the steps as I gave him a look before continuing down the hall. I heard a rattle in the bedroom and walked in slowly. Hopefully there wasn't anyone changing in there.

I walked inside to see the O'Shaunessy boy looking at Mein Kampf. It was the book that Adolf Hitler wrote while he was in a jail cell in Munich for trying to overthrow the government.

"Which part are you on?" I piped up as the boy snapped his head towards me.

"I- what?" He asked.

I walked up to him, picking up the book, "Page twenty four. You're at the start of chapter two. My favorite chapter is chapter two. It's quite interesting, the beginning is nice as well. I went to Vienna once. Have you ever been?"

"No, I haven't been out of the country much," he responded. I could tell he would much rather be doing something else than engaging in conversation.

I nodded, "That's alright. Maybe you can come with me someday. Say, shouldn't you be in the powder room? You still have the stain. Let me help you."

"I can do it myself," he responds hastily. "B-besides, I only came in here to take a look at the book," he finishes with a slight stutter.

"Are you sure? I mean I-"

"I said I can do it myself. Thank you, though." He rushed downstairs and I followed shortly after, only to find that he and his family were gone.