Natan returned to the ghetto a few times throughout January and February as he received tips about new vacancies, but otherwise the Weitzes settled into the Friedenau flat as if they intended to stay. Restrained by the curfew, Sara spent most of her evenings in her room with her books or listening to the radio with her parents, but occasionally she went to Greta’s flat forKaffee und Kuchen, or to mind the baby while Greta ran errands for her freelance work or the resistance.
Travel restrictions imposed on Jews meant that Sara saw Mildred even less frequently than she saw Greta. She could no longer accompany her friends and one-year-old Ule on walks through the Tiergarten, nor could she join her former classmates for friendly debates at any of the cafés near campus. Increasingly isolated, she lingered at Mildred’s flat after a study group meeting even though she risked being caught on the streets after curfew, just so she could pour out her heart to her sympathetic teacher and friend.
“Is emigration any more likely?” asked Mildred.
“We could leave Germany tomorrow if we had anyplace to go,” Sara said, fighting back tears. “We haven’t been able to get entry visas.”
Mildred nodded and drank the last of her coffee. Then she fixed her calm blue-eyed gaze on Sara and said, “How would your family feel about Norway?”
Sara’s heart leapt as she recalled how Mildred had helped the Jewish editor Max Tau escape to Norway in the weeks afterKristallnacht. Mildred had divulged few details, and she probably would have said nothing at all except to ease Natan’s worries. The two men were friends, and in the aftermath ofKristallnachtwhen Max Tau had disappeared, Natan had searched in vain for him, fearing he had perished in a concentration camp.
“I’ve always wanted to see Norway. I’ve heard it’s beautiful. But—” Sara hesitated. “Switzerland would be better.”
Mildred smiled. “Of course. Let me see what I can do.”
“What can you do? Ambassador Dodd is gone. The American embassy is nearly empty.”
“But not entirely so.” Mildred glanced at the clock. “You should be on your way, unless you’d like to spend the night?”
Sara thanked her but refused, knowing her parents would worry. Impulsively she hugged Mildred and darted out the door, and as she hurried home through a flurry of icy snow quickly turning into slush beneath her boots, she decided not to mention anything rather than give her family false hope.
She sustained her own hopes, alone, as the winter passed without any word from Mildred’s contacts. In March the winds softened and the days lengthened, and she imagined the first buds of spring appearing on the trees and in flower beds in the Tiergarten. She longed to stroll there one last time, but doubted she ever would.
Then, at the end of March, Mildred surprised her by turning up at her family’s apartment, eyes shining. When Mildred invited her for a walk, Sara quickly threw on a sweater and accompanied her outside.
Sara was banned from the nearby parks, so they kept to the sidewalks, saying little until they came to a smallPlatzand sat down upon an empty bench where they would see anyone approaching. “I have entrance visas for Switzerland,” Mildred told her.
“Really?” Sara gasped. “Oh, Mildred, how will I ever thank you?”
“Sara—” Mildred hesitated. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I could only get two.”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh. I see.”
“I might be able to get two more in a few months.”
“Two is better than none.” Sara clasped her hands together in her lap and squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly lightheaded. “My parents will insist that my brother and I take them. My brother will insist that my mother and I do.”
“The choice is yours. I’m sorry to give you this burden. I wish—”
“It’s not a burden. This is a gift, a great blessing. Two of us are going to get out.”
And two would be left behind.
As they walked back to Sara’s apartment, Mildred promised to keep trying to acquire more visas, and Sara promised not to lose hope.
She needed only two days and one heated debate with her brother to confirm the choice, which in truth she had made moments after she and Mildred parted. She only wanted her brother’s blessing first.
Her parents were overjoyed when Sara announced that within a month they would be in Geneva with Amalie and their grandchildren. Natan offered to book the train tickets to give them more time to tie up loose ends and bid old friends farewell.
“How thankful I am that we won’t need our country retreat after all,” Sara’s mother said with a sigh on the eve of their departure, as they lingered over a late supper. Four suitcases and two trunks were already packed and waiting by the front door. Their precious family heirlooms would remain at Schloss Federle for safekeeping.
The next day, April 20, dawned bright and sunny, bursting with the full, verdant beauty of spring. Sunshine from cloudless blue skies bathed the city in warmth and light. On the radio they were calling itFührerwetter, as if nature itself had joined in the national holiday celebrating Adolf Hitler’s fiftieth birthday. Every German household had been ordered to fly the swastika flag in honor of the occasion—Jews were prohibited from doing so—and more than fifty thousand troops would march in a grand parade before an anticipated two million spectators. It was expected to be the greatest event the Nazis had ever staged, an elaborate spectacle of historic significance, and the Weitzes were all too happy to miss it.
They tried to hail a cab; several sped past without slowing down, discouraged either by their luggage or their suspect Jewish appearance. Eventually one halted and they piled in, and as they drove to the station, Sara’s mother inclined her head toward the ubiquitous swastika banners they passed. Leaning closer to Sara, she murmured, “I certainly won’t miss all this.”
Sara pressed her lips together to hold back a sob and forced a smile, turning quickly away so her mother would not see her tears.
All too soon they were standing on the platform, awaiting the arrival of the train. Natan paced nearby, his hands thrust in his pockets, working off his agitation. A distant whistle caught his attention, and the announcement that their train was approaching brought him to a halt. He threw Sara a despondent look, and she knew it was time.
