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Heart in the Clouds
Heart in the Clouds
Heart in the Clouds
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Heart in the Clouds

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Love is blind. It isnt something you findit finds you, even in the most unlikely of places.

Two souls, searching for humanity and hope amid the unspeakable horrors of war and the devastating authority of hatred, find themselves cast together in the Sachsenhausen work camp during the Second World War and the murderous Holocaust that came swiftly with it. One is in the Nazi labor camp by force, the other by one choice or another.

Ingrid Hoffman, a gifted ballerina from Hamburg, and Axel Engel, a promising man fresh from school in Munich, experience an immediate and spontaneous pull to one another. Their budding love, as forbidden as it is blessed, becomes the precious center of their lives. But as essential as it is to their emotional survival in the camps, its very presence puts them at mortal risk amid the camps vast and pitiless machinery of death.

Discovery will surely mean death for them both.

Together, Ingrid and Axel find ways to help each other get through the day and stand up against the atrocities of Sachsenhausen as two people can. The strength they draw from their relationship is the only way they can protect any measure of humanity the Third Reich seeks to destroy. Paradoxically, the greatest danger to the star-crossed couple comes when Russian troops liberate their lives of abhorrence in the spring of 1945. The price of their freedom is rough justice. Can the lovers survive this one final challenge to their happiness?

LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateAug 15, 2014
ISBN9781491742334
Heart in the Clouds
Author

Danny Rittman

Danny Rittman is a chip designer with broad interests, especially those regarding spiritual matters. In his work he’s found extraordinary possibilities in numbers and science which inspired him to write this book.

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    Heart in the Clouds - Danny Rittman

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    HEART IN THE CLOUDS

    Copyright © 2014 Danny Rittman.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    iUniverse

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    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4917-4232-7 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4917-4234-1 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4917-4233-4 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2014914110

    iUniverse rev. date: 08/14/2014

    Contents

    Ingrid Hoffman—Hamburg

    Axel Engel—Munich

    A sudden change

    Labor Camp

    To the Hamburg Ghetto

    Work camp, 1942

    The Hamburg ghetto

    Arrival at Sachsenhausen

    Alone

    A button on a tunic

    A second meeting

    Courtship inside Sachsenhausen

    Selection and the camps to the east

    Reunion

    Morning orders

    Intimacy

    Atrocity

    Confession

    A visit home

    Fear

    The Voice of Heaven

    Faust’s quarters

    Adela comes to a resolution

    A friend

    Loss

    Another Loss

    News

    Kunder

    Kunder at work

    A new life arrives

    Liberation

    Heart in the clouds

    Munich

    Freedom, 1958

    The heart has reasons that reason does not understand.

    —BLAISE PASCAL

    heart.jpg

    You don’t find love. It finds you…

    —ANAÏS NIN

    Ingrid Hoffman—Hamburg

    I ’m fl ying!

    Ingrid steadied her slender body in midair and landed gracefully on a single foot, as she’d practiced a thousand times. She stood quite still for a few moments, fighting off the need to wobble or bend a knee or even take a deep breath. She extended her arms high above her, forming an archway and imagining herself standing high in the heavens. She was at one with the Brahms piano work played on an old Victrola. She breathed deeply then leaped into the air using only her lower legs to propel herself. Her back stretched back to an almost impossible degree, flinging her long hair far behind her. She sent her hands ahead of her and hoped she resembled the delicate swan she’d seen taking flight in a picture book from school.

    It was her audition before the Hamburg Ballet—a remarkable accomplishment for a girl still in her teens. She effortlessly caught the approving eye of her trainer in the wings and thought for sure that her parents were elated in the fourth row of the auditorium.

    Ingrid closed her eyes and concentrated on the next motion. A quick breath and again she was soaring above the floor and above the concerns of daily life. There was no clock or even gravity. The landing of course would be critical. It was what she’d trained hardest for over the last few months. It was what her trainer had prepared her for. It was what the judges would pay special attention to.

    Down she came. The instant seemed to take forever. She felt the floor touch the bottom of her foot then she came to a flawless position as though in a porcelain Hummel work or a Degas painting. She stretched her toes and ankles until she heard the music fade and the rapturous applause erupt from a demanding and grateful audience. Only then did she look for her parents and find them coming to their feet, her mother dabbing a tear or two with a handkerchief.

    She bowed gracefully and perhaps a moment or two longer than usual. No one noticed. If they had, they wouldn’t have cared. Everyone felt for this young girl.

    Ingrid, that was magnificent. I am speechless. Her trainer embraced her as she left the stage. She glanced over to the judges and saw them looking at one another in appreciation and awe. There can be no doubt. You are one of them now!

    Ingrid couldn’t contain her joy but then she began to weep amid her elation until her parents met her in the wings.

    You dance so beautifully, sweet one. Her father kissed her forehead.

    Ingrid felt so proud. She was perspiring from her display but it didn’t matter to her parents and friends who hugged and kissed her.

    I am so proud of you, my child, her mother told her and pressed her to her heart.

    She was only seventeen and a future with the city ballet beckoned. She’d accepted important parts and enjoyed the praise of newspapers and audiences alike. Did you hear? Did you hear? she asked her father, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. The program manager told me that the Hamburg Ballet wants me to join them. Isn’t that wonderful news?

    Absolutely wonderful! We’ll take care of the papers immediately. His daughter’s joy was her father’s joy.

    Over the next year Ingrid became part of the renowned Hamburg Ballet and traveled across Germany, from East Prussia to Bavaria, improving her grace and skill and renown. The review said Ingrid was a jewel, a talent unseen in decades. Soon enough she earned a respectable income from her craft and her fame only grew as she performed in Hungary, Poland, and Czechoslovakia.

    Love of the arts ran in her family. Ingrid’s father was a pianist in Hamburg’s conservatory where he performed weekly. His command of works as disparate as Mozart and Bartok was remarkable. Her mother was a pediatrician at the Israelitische Krankenhaus—a Jewish hospital dating back to 1839. The Hoffmans lived a comfortable upper-middle life in an old district, not far from the hospital. Although Ingrid was already in her early twenties and successful in the ballet, she preferred life with her parents as she had little time to find a beau.

    Ingrid’s graceful motions were complemented by her beauty. She was fair of hair, with delicate white skin, hazel eyes, and frail lips. Grace and beauty blended with a cheerful and engaging demeanor. All wanted her company and many a young man sought her attention, though she could not settle on anyone yet. What’s the hurry, she once told her father as he gave her a paternal talk about not waiting too long. I want to be hopelessly in love with the man of my dreams, the man who will be the father of my children—your grandchildren. I want to have at least two children. I would like that my husband be an artist—a musician, painter, sculptor, writer or a dancer—like his bride! I want him to love art and be close to art.

    Her father laughed and encouraged her to compromise with life. You never know who you will fall in love with. You can always hope that you’ll find the one of your dreams. Be forewarned though, you have to accept the possibility that he may not be as you imagined. Love is unexpected, love is blind.

    She always smiled hearing his words. She recalled a few times when her eyes would meet those of a young man in school or in the ballet and there seemed to be a magical connection. It invariably passed in a day or so. Sometimes it vanished in the blink of an eye. Don’t you worry, father. I know I’ll find the right man in time. 7Someday, somewhere.

    Well, as long as your children come into this world while I’m alive, I’ll be happy.

    He spoke in jest but she sensed a kernel of worry. Her father was getting gray and each month seemed to bring another wrinkle on his brow.

    There is still time, she thought as she studied his face. I’ll find someone in the next few years. I know it.

    Life was happy and her future promising—despite the political and economic uncertainty in Germany. Then on January 30, 1933 her country had a new leader. President Paul von Hindenburg named a firebrand to be the one to form the next government.

    Adolf Hitler and the National Socialists had come to power.

    Axel Engel—Munich

    E mely and Andreas Engel could hardly hide their joy when their son came into the world and his swift growth into a young man was no less wondrous. So fast, said Andreas. So soon! added Emely. Axel was about to complete his Abitur at the Wilhelmsgymnasium and the graduation ceremony was nearing.

    The Engels lived in a lower-middle-class district of Munich. The neighborhood was quiet, meticulously maintained, and populated by Protestant and Catholic families both. Andreas was a metalworker in a factory related to the automobile industry. Emely was a librarian in the municipal library. They worked hard, saved as best they could, and got by the hard times of the early thirties. Their virtues and morals were passed on to their son Axel. Emely’s job did not take up her entire day and she was able to devote time to the most important thing in her life, raising Axel. Weekends almost never demanded work from either parent and those two days were dedicated to spending time together, fixing odds and ends about the house, and hiking the nearby foothills.

    Emely fidgeted in her chair and Andreas had to soothe her by patting her trembling hand.

    You know, I remember when our Axel was just born, so gorgeous, such innocent eyes, pure skin. I can’t believe that today he graduates from gymnasium. I can still smell his baby scent, she told the woman that sat near her. She smiled appreciatively at the pride of another mother.

    Andreas looked to the ceiling with discernible impatience. His wife had been making running comments to anyone near them for the past hour or so, and he was wearying of the same words over and over again.

    What do you think, Andreas? Emely nudged him.

    Yes, yes. I also remember him as a baby, he said and then continued mumbling to himself. As I’ve already told you fifty times in the last hour."

    What? What did you say? Did you say something?

    Oh no, my dear, nothing at all. He spoke quietly and looked at the stage hoping that Axel would soon stand there.

    A few more students walked across the stage and then it happened. Axel ascended the steps and stood in front of his teacher and the other members of the faculty. The teacher whispered something to the young man, probably words of praise and which way to go next. Axel straightened his head and cleared his throat.

    This is it, Emely. It’s our boy’s turn. Steady! Andreas felt the need to adjust his collar and pat his hair. How do I look? My hair? He nervously asked. They both knew his hair tended to lose its place even indoors.

    Your hair is fine. As though taking a cue, she made minor adjustments to her dress and hat. We are about to go on the stage to share in our son’s award. Andreas, I…I think I am going to cry!

    Stop it, Emely, you’ll be fine. Just hold my hand.

    Axel Engel!

    The PA system spoke his name clearly and loudly and Axel strode to the center of the stage where his teacher and principal waited for him with his diploma and award certificate. Herr and Frau Engel, you are invited to stand with your son.

    That was their signal. They walked up the steps carefully.

    Please stand to the left of your son, the teacher whispered to them before turning to the audience once more.

    Axel Engel is a remarkable student—dedicated, bright, and hardworking. Punctual, tidy, and organized. He learns out of a keen interest in life. He is ever a good friend to fellow students with every question and issue. We are pleased to honor him today among our many esteemed students. Axel, please step forward to receive your award certificate.

    The high praise caused Axel to blush but he remained poised enough to step forward. His mother covered her mouth to hide her excitement and his father beamed proudly. Axel Engel, I hereby bestow upon you the Most Honored Student Award. We foresee a rich and prosperous life in front of you, whatever path you embark upon. We would love to see you graduate from Munich University and become one of Germany’s renowned academics.

    Axel had to steady himself for what he had to say that night. He looked at his parents and his heart pounded. He knew his plans and what he would say.

    I just hope that my plans are not too much of a shock to my folks.

    The teacher turned to Axel expectantly. Axel, I have already expressed my hopes for your future. Now, we would love to hear of your plans. Well, then, what direction shall young Herr Engel take after he leaves the Wilhelmsgymnasium this evening for the last time?

    Axel looked at the audience and saw their keen interest. Many of his best friends and their families were there, eager to hear his words. They’d all been to previous graduation ceremonies where Axel’s predecessors had laid out their plans for their lives. Axel glanced at his parents and received their loving smiles.

    My intentions will be startling but they’ll understand, in time. They always do. The university can wait. There’s something more challenging, more important. Something that will make my parents very proud of me. Something that will make the whole school and all Munich proud of their son. It will be something for all Germany, the whole Fatherland. There is more glory and honor on this path than any other I see before me.

    Axel composed himself, breathed in deeply, and began to speak.

    My fellow students, family members, and my fellow Germans. I know what I am going to do next.

    Many of the girls released a long sigh at his staunch posture and unmistakable confidence. It was no secret. Axel was one of the more handsome and charismatic boys in the school and most girls vied for his company.

    He looked at his parents one more time and then into the crowd.

    Today Germany faces many challenges, at home and abroad. It is important for the finest young men to stand up at their nation’s hour of need. My path is clear to me and I hope it will be accepted and respected by all here, especially my beloved mother and father. Fellow Germans, I shall soon enter our nation’s armed forces where I shall train to become an officer in the rapidly growing army.

    His mother became unsteady, his father had to hold her. His teacher was astonished, even perplexed.

    There are many here this night who would see me attend university. To them I say that I shall, but that will come later, after I serve my country. It is important for me and for all of us in this chamber tonight that I dedicate myself to helping Germany become the great nation it once was.

    His father smiled faintly and his mother took out her handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her brow. The teacher knew that Axel’s decision had been made and would not be unmade by anyone. He extended his hand and the audience erupted into applause which soon included boisterous cheers.

    Axel kept his vow and became a soldier. After a year of faithful service as a humble private he was judged worthy of officer training and off went to the school in the old Prussian territory near Berlin. His parents indeed came to accept his decision and spoke proudly of their boy and showed pictures of him in his uniform to all who would look.

    After his term of service, he will attend the University of Munich, Emely. You know he will.

    Axel noticed that lads of his background had certain limitations in their army careers. The choicest posts—say, with the elite guards units or the newly formed panzer units—went to the sons of other officers, most of them Prussians. Word came of a new military formation that was outside the command of the old Prussians with their dueling scars and monocles. In this formation, one was judged by one’s talents and dedication, not by family connections. Axel was ambitious. He wanted to be belong to an elite unit. He wanted to contribute to his country.

    He applied for the new unit and to his delight he was accepted. Soon he would take off his regular army uniform and proudly don the daunting black uniform adorned by thunderbolts of the Schutz Staffel, or as it was better known, the SS.

    A sudden change

    "I ’m so excited. A goof performance tonight will solidify my position in the ballet."

    Ingrid and her father spoke on their way up the baroque stairs of the Berlin State Opera. It was a special performance. For Ingrid and her troupe had been invited by the arts council of the capital city that selected the finest musicians and conductors and singers and dancers in the land. The entranceway was bedecked with red carpets and in the spacious chandelier-lit hall, there were statues and paintings honoring Schubert, Brahms, and Beethoven. Ingrid felt like a lucky young girl called into the prince’s stately palace.

    Father and daughter peeked into the main chamber and gasped at the stunningly ornate elegance. This was where the finest dancers had performed before royalty and appreciative publics. This night she would take her place along the names Kreisler, Beck, and Dönau—the finest prima donnas of the previous century. As much as she wanted to gaze at the finely-fashioned domed ceiling, she had to meet with her trainer in the dressing room behind the now dimly lit stage.

    This is the state theater, my dear one. I have been here several times—at least four times with your mother—and each time I feel I’m in a mansion I helped create.

    Just think about this, father, I am about to dance here tonight. She could not control her joy and excitement.

    I can’t wait to see you tonight, sweet one. Her father took her by the hand and led her to a side area of the building where they found the dressing rooms.

    Ah, I see my trainer now! Ingrid pointed down the long

    hallway.

    They rushed to the woman who was talking with someone from the opera house management. She didn’t look happy to see them and led them to small dimly lit room off to side

    Good evening, Miss Meyer. Ingrid smiled to her with a polite curtsy. I shall not let anyone down tonight.

    Miss Meyer’s demeanor did not brighten. Well, yes, actually I need to talk with both of you regarding this night. Please follow me. This is rather difficult for me and embarrassing as well. I’m sure that the situation will be better one day but, how to say it, we’ve received new instructions from the state arts council. You know times have changed, and we are legally bound to obey their guidelines.

    Ingrid’s father looked at her without understanding the meaning of her words. Ingrid remained quiet.

    We love you, Ingrid. You are one of our most promising dancers, but I’m afraid we can’t permit you to dance in our group tonight—and not in the near future, either.

    Ingrid covered her mouth with her hand. Her hopes and expectations sank within her, leaving a sickening void.

    May I ask why? her father asked. Has she done anything wrong? Does anyone complain about her? He knew what was coming. He’d read the papers and seen events in the streets of Hamburg. He wanted to see if she would state the reason.

    It was painful for the trainer. She held Ingrid’s arm and her voice trembled. Dear young Ingrid, I am so sorry. You are like a granddaughter to me and I love you with all my heart. I enjoy your dancing, as do all fortunate to see you grace the stage. It is not me. It is, well, the new guidelines. She couldn’t say it clearly and tears welled in her eyes. With an uncertain hand she pointed to the yellow embroidery that Ingrid’s father wore on his coat, by law.

    The Star of David.

    It is because we are Jews. Her father summarized the dismal situation in a resigned tone as it was only dawning on Ingrid.

    I am very sorry for both of you. I hope this is just a passing moment. I am not in favor of these rules—my husband is Jewish. She looked around nervously. We hope to pass everything quietly. He is quite old now.

    Ingrid’s father hugged her to his heart. Let’s go, darling. There will be other performances someday.

    They left the building without saying a word. Ingrid sobbed softly.

    It was autumn 1935. A sudden wind swirled orange and brown leaves around them as they walked toward the River Spree.

    Labor Camp

    A xel marched smartly into the office, stood erect in front of the desk, clicked his boots, and saluted the senior officer seated at the desk.

    Hauptsturmführer Engel reporting as ordered, Herr Brigadeführer.

    At ease, Hauptsturmführer, please have a seat. The SS general was suitably impressed by the junior officer’s crisp demeanor.

    Young Axel hesitated as he was not used to sitting in the presence of high officers but a general’s request is an order and he sat on the chair, still straight and alert of course.

    I’ve heard splendid things about you, Axel. The general smiled and switched to a less official tone. Your commanding officers have high expectations of you, as do I.

    Thank you, Herr Brigadeführer. Axel’s manners remained official.

    The general, in his mid-fifties, regarded Axel thoroughly. He then stood up and walked around the desk. Are you familiar with our Dachau camp, Axel?

    Yes, it is our first concentration camp, designated for criminals and political enemies. It is located in Bavaria. Axel had always been a voracious reader and he kept abreast of the momentous changes underway in the Reich.

    Very good, Axel. I am quite impressed by the breadth of your knowledge. Not too many people know about this camp. The general smiled in appreciation as he paced around the room, alternately in front of and behind the junior officer. As you note, Dachau is our first camp and we are going to build more, many more. All modeled upon it. Same system, same approach, and in some ways better suited for our agenda. He smiled in a manner that puzzled Axel. The general was somewhat disappointed by that.

    Hauptsturmführer Engel, you served as a trainer of young officers, is this correct? The general knew exactly what Axel did, he’d read his file. The question was clearly prefatory in nature.

    Yes, Herr Brigadeführer. My grades were superior, at the top, so they requested me as an instructor for new cadets.

    You are much too young to have served in the 1914 war of course.

    Yes, I’m afraid that’s so, Herr Brigadeführer,

    The general nodded thoughtfully.

    You requested training in the SS.

    Yes, Herr Brigadeführer,

    Do you know of the Reich’s plans for the Jews?

    No, Herr Brigadeführer, only many rumors by fellow officers.

    Yes, many rumors. Some true, most not. The plans will be finalized one day at a conference but for now it is important that you’ve been properly instructed regarding the Jews.

    I have indeed. It is an integral part of SS training, Herr Brigadeführer. I know the subject well. They are plague upon the Reich and upon the human race. They are our enemies and that’s all that I need to know. Axel had read the pamphlets and internalized them as part of being a good officer, though he felt them simplistic and overwrought.

    The general smiled and nodded. That is correct, Axel. We think you are an ambitious young officer and have a promising future with the Third Reich. We are opening a second camp, a labor camp. Then the general took a deep breath and directly asked, Do you think that you can serve as assistant commandant at this camp, Axel?

    Axel was surprised. He knew that only very promising officers were selected to be commandants or assistant commandants of such installations. Second in command. He never dreamed to be in charge of so many people so early in his career.

    Yes, Herr Brigadeführer, it will be an honor to be an assistant commandant at our new camp. I’ll do the best to my capabilities and not fail the Third Reich. Axel was sharp in his response. He was determined not to miss this opportunity.

    As you know, there will be some unpleasant situations in this camp. Such things happen in difficult times, in wars for example. Wars are ugly.

    I’m sure they are, sir. I’m sure they are.

    The general nodded in satisfaction. You’ll make a good assistant commandant and one day a fine commandant, Axel. There will be a two-month training course after which a promotion may come. The new camp will be built in Brandenburg, near Berlin. It will be a labor camp. Prisoners will work for the benefit of Germany. We’ll have a lot of work there, important work for the Third Reich.

    Axel could hardly hide his excitement. Thank you, Herr Brigadeführer. I’ll not fail you with this mission.

    The General patted Axel’s back. I know. Make us proud, Axel. Make Germany proud.

    I will, Herr Brigadeführer. Axel stood up, clicked his boots and saluted.

    Upon completing the training course in Silesia, Axel was promoted and assigned to the Sachsenhausen camp as assistant commandant. Axel was thrilled. He will be a high officer and his contribution will be significant. Who knows? The next step will be a commandant of his own camp. Such were the heady days of the late 1930s.

    To the Hamburg Ghetto

    I ngrid was frightened by the pounding on the door in the middle of the night. Soldiers rudely broke down the door with their boots and rifle butts. Her mother screamed in fear, her father tried to calm her down.

    Raus! Raus Juden! The soldiers shouted angrily.

    We’re doing as you say! Just don’t harm us. Her father tried to calm the SS soldiers. Their angry expressions suggested that they were a hair’s length from beating them. Alas, his words did not have any effect.

    Raus Juden! Schnell! Their shouts were soon followed by hard shoves from their Mausers.

    Ingrid screamed in terror, which had the unintended effect of one of the soldiers taking a long look at her and grinning worrisomely.

    Ah, what do we have here? A pretty young Jew. He approached her and she shrank in fear. She looked to her parents and saw their near panic.

    The family had witnessed the changes sweeping Germany since the Nazis came to power but they refused to believe that it would grow into this. Her father and mother were banned from

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