‘Can we not take another route?’
Friedrich shook his head. ‘It will look too suspicious. The best way to hide is in plain sight.’ He sounded confident and assured but Clara could see the way he tapped his finger agitatedly on the side of his coffee cup that he was anything but.
‘What do I say to them?’ asked Clara.
‘Show them this.’ Friedrich handed her a manila folder containing several official-looking documents. ‘Transportation authorities. You are moving the three women from the Charité to the medical facility in Neuruppin. They need a nurse on hand, hence your presence.’
Clara shivered at the idea but as Friedrich had told her, keeping as close to the truth and real facts as possible made it more believable and more importantly, easier to remember. Clara scanned the Wehrmacht letterhead and official stamps. ‘How did you get this?’
‘I requisitioned the paper legitimately. The authorisation codes are all real.’ Friedrich’s jaw tightened. ‘The only issue will be if they try to verify the codes against the specific mission which is why passing through the early morning checkpoint is vital. Less people about for them to contact and verify. It’s a risk.’
Her hands trembled slightly as she slipped the paperwork back into the folder. Friedrich covered her fingers with his. ‘Listen carefully,’ he said. ‘If they start taking too much of an interest, tell them to ring the number on the paperwork at the bottom where the signature is.’
Clara flicked through to the last page, her eyes resting on the name and signature. One she knew better than any other. She looked up at her husband. ‘You?’
He nodded. ‘I will be in early tomorrow morning, just in case.’
‘But you’re implicating yourself directly. There will be a paper trail leading back to you.’
‘I know.’
‘You can’t.’
‘I can. I will. It will give you enough time to clear the checkpoint. They won’t be able to verify anything until later in the day when you will be long gone.’ He covered her hand with his. ‘I will do everything to keep you safe. Every document you carry has my authority behind it. If I thought it was too dangerous, I would find another way. This is the safest way. In plain sight.’
The bitter December wind cut through Clara’s coat as she slipped through the pre-dawn streets of Prenzlauer Berg, her medical bag clutched tight against her chest. The snow from earlier in the week had melted but frost now glazed the cobblestones making each step a potential hazard as she navigated the side road to the tenement building where Max and the women waited.
She had left Paul strict instructions to fetch her immediately if Anna’s pain worsened. The fact that he hadn’t appeared at her door might mean Anna was stable or something terrible had happened and they could no longer risk sending for her. Clara’s stomach knotted as she considered both possibilities.
Clara’s checked her watch. It was five thirty. Friedrich’s instructions had been precise. Arrive no later and no earlier than five fifty-eight. She had worked a night duty and had feigned illness, and fortunately Frau Lange had agreed to let her leave early. Despite the lack of sleep, adrenalin was now fuelling Clara.
Paul was waiting in the foyer of the building, his young face tense with exhaustion. The men and children had already departed, slipping through backstreets and alleyways towards the city’s edge where patrols were lighter and escape routes plentiful.
The first thing Clara did when she entered the cellar was to check on Anna. She was relieved to hear that the pains had eased for several hours and although they had started up again, it convinced her that they were indeed Braxton Hicks and not imminent labour.
‘You have all the documents?’ asked Max without preamble.
‘Everything is here.’ She took the documents Max needed as the driver. ‘These are your travel papers.’
Max nodded, before folding the travel papers and placing them in his pocket. ‘We need to get moving.’ Max clapped his hands together. ‘Los geht’s,’ he said decisively. Let’s get going.
Clara, with the assistance of Max, carefully helped Anna to her feet. Clara supported one side, Max the other. Anna moved slowly, one hand pressed to her lower back. Progress up the stairs was even slower but eventually they were on the ground floor, heading out through the rear of the building where, as Friedrich had promised, an ambulance was waiting.
Once Anna was comfortable on the gurney and the other two woman on the bench seat, Clara took her position in the passenger seat alongside Max.
They travelled in silence. Clara’s nerves stretched taut as the vehicle made its way out on to the main route.
The checkpoint materialised out of the grey dawn mist like something from a nightmare. A wooden barrier across the road, flanked by two soldiers who looked as cold and miserable as Clara felt. Her heart hammered against her ribs as Max brought the ambulance to a halt, but she forced her breathing to remain steady.
‘Papiere, bitte,’ demanded the first guard, a thin man with stubble darkening his gaunt cheeks. His breath formed clouds in the frigid air as he approached the driver’s side.
Max handed over their travel documents with practised calm while Clara clutched her medical bag, ready to play her part as the district nurse. Behind them in the ambulance, although she couldn’t see, she could feel the tension emanating from the three women.
The guard examined their papers with bleary eyes, clearly exhausted from his night shift. ‘Transportation to Neuruppin,’ he read aloud and then looked at his colleague who was approaching from the other side. ‘Look at this. District nurse taking expectant mothers to the medical facility I was telling you about.’
The second guard, older and even more worn looking, barely glanced at the documents. He gave a cursory look beyond Clara’s shoulder to the back of the ambulance. ‘Everything is stamped and in order,’ he said with a dismissive wave. ‘I’ve been on duty all night, Werner. I want to go home to my warm bed, not spend the next hour making phone calls and filling out paperwork only to look like an idiot when it all checks out legitimate.’ He handed the papers back to Max with obvious irritation. ‘Besides, the morning shift will be here any minute now. Let them deal with the bureaucracy if they’re so inclined.’
Werner looked like he might protest, but another guard, who Clara hadn’t noticed until then, called out from the hut, ‘Coffee is getting cold!’ That settled the matter. Werner waved them through with barely another glance, already turning back towards the promise of warmth and caffeine.
