“Let’s go to the roof,” Greta suggested, nudging Libertas toward the door.
“Save some cognac for me,” Adam called.
“No promises,” Libertas teased as the door closed behind them.
They settled on the rooftop on two weathered wooden chairs another resident had left there long before. Sipping cognac, breathing deeply of the fresh spring air, they sat for a long moment in silence, the blackout darkness complete except for the quarter moon and the faint light of stars.
“You could almost believe the city wasn’t there,” said Libertas softly, a note of deep weariness and strain in her voice.
“Almost.” Was it the cognac that allowed her friend to let down her guard, or was it because it was just the two of them, with no husbands there to observe and appraise?
“Greta, Hitler must be stopped. He’s a monster.”
“I know he is.”
“You think you do but you don’t.” Libertas paused to refresh her glass. “Terrible things are happening, worse than your worst nightmares. It began in Poland but it’s spreading. Harro has access to the classified reports at Luftwaffe headquarters. The Nazis are committing terrible crimes—enslavement, torture, gruesome killings—”
Despite the warm summer air, Greta went cold. “On enemy soldiers?”
“Soldiers, civilians, Jews—especially Jews. Entire families are marched from their villages into the woods, shot, dumped in mass graves—” Libertas drank deeply, then clutched her glass in both hands just below her chin, shivering. “In my deepest heart, somehow I still cannot believe that the German people are capable of committing such horrific deeds. I know what Harro suffered when he was imprisoned years ago, and poor Hans Otto, and the Jews, and the foreign workers here in Berlin, and countless others. But mass murder, the slaughter of entire peoples—”
She broke down in tears. Greta put her arms around her friend and held her, rocking her gently, stroking her back. “Hitler will fall,” she said softly. “His time is almost up. He will pay for his crimes, I promise you.”
Perhaps the Soviet army would strike the blow that toppled the Führer from power, and sooner than he could possibly imagine.
As the end of June approached and the German military’s preparations entered the final stages, Harro and Arvid compiled one last, meticulously detailed memorandum for Erdberg about Operation Barbarossa. Nine German armies with the force of 150 divisions would begin an offensive at dawn on June 22. The report included a list of the Luftwaffe’s primary targets and the plan for the German civilian administration of occupied Soviet territories.
On the evening of June 21, Greta and Adam set the blackout curtains and talked quietly over dinner about Adam’s idea for a new novel, a letter Greta had received from her brother, and the clever, amusing things their son had said and done that day. After they put Ule to bed, they settled down on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders, her head resting upon his chest. Together they finished off the bottle of cognac, for despite her teasing, Libertas liked Adam and even in her distress had remembered to save some for him.
Tomorrow Germany would go to war with the Soviet Union, expecting certain victory thanks to the element of surprise and overwhelming force. But the Soviets knew what was coming. The resistance had given them sufficient time to prepare their defenses without alerting their erstwhile Nazi allies that they knew war was imminent. Even now the Soviet military could be taking their positions and waiting for the dawn.
Sunrise would herald a new day, the beginning of the end.
Chapter Fifty-two
June–July 1941
Mildred
Mildred woke shortly after dawn on Sunday, June 22, to find Arvid already awake, staring up at the ceiling. “Did you sleep at all?” she asked, snuggling closer, kissing him on the cheek.
“A little.” He kissed her forehead and stroked her arm gently, but he radiated tension. “By now the German army has crossed the Soviet frontier. What an ugly surprise the Wehrmacht must have discovered waiting for them—the entire Red Army, firmly entrenched and on high alert.”
Mildred shuddered, imagining the bloodshed and chaos. “Let’s hope the Soviets took measures to protect civilians in the path of the advance.”
“Let’s hope.” Arvid kissed her and sat up. “Time to face whatever comes.”
They washed and dressed, and as Mildred set out breakfast, Arvid turned on the radio. “No news yet,” he said, shaking his head as he tuned in one station after another and found only music and a weather report.