Berlin blood

June 1934 Summer evening in Berlin. The sun had almost set below the horizon, but the rays still remained on the tallest buildings, and their reflections illuminated the city instead of lanterns. The heat of the day gradually disappeared, giving way to the coolness of the evening. The streets were gradually filled with people tired from work, evening cafes opened, lanterns were lit, showing the way to easy chairs, where it was so pleasant to have dinner. Berlin lived another day. Returning home after work, Oberscharführer August Scholz put his briefcase with documents on a chair and, taking off his jacket, hung it on the back. He exhaled, feeling relieved that the mask of a leader confident in his actions and words could be removed. He lit a cigarette, and, blowing smoke from his mouth, began to recall with pleasure how he received his first award from the hands of Himmler. It, along with a promotion in rank, was awarded to him for the surrender of the first three concentration camps. His authority increased and among people close to Himmler, they began to pay attention to August. Concentration camps continued to be built, but now he was not torn between them, trying to personally control everything, he only directed the process, sorted out documents — others were running around. In addition to career success, the relationship with Charlotte, which was developing well, brought joy. Everything went the way he wanted: no bouquets and picnics on weekends, she still works as a secretary and work does not affect personal communication. Not everyone could understand his wishes, and with Charlotte there was no need to explain. There are no rules or restrictions, and none of them tries to test the boundaries of what is permitted. Many would call their love platonic, although Augustus was simply in no hurry. Charlotte often comes to him to discuss work or just read together, and August likes to lie on her lap, listening to her voice. They talked a lot about literature, music, and art. August bought tickets to movies and theaters, and Charlotte did not refuse him. They observed all decorum: Charlotte was invariably at home before ten o’clock, no displays of feelings in public, except for the very fact of their meetings. They didn’t need their friends' approval. They found themselves in their own little world, in their own universe. And, if one felt bad, the other always helped to forget. Their relationship seemed wrong, not by the standards of the books or movies. August was in no hurry to share a bed with her. He wanted to know her soul. What’s the use of the body? He saw many beautiful women and he never wanted to know any of them. But with Charlotte… With her everything was different. She was always a mystery, no matter how much he talked to her. She was crazy, and no one saw it except him, because the girl knew how to pretend to be normal. Sometimes it seemed that in front of him was a completely different person, she changed her behavior so quickly. He would not say that Charlotte was trying to somehow put pressure on him. Freedom in the relationship was the main thing for which they both valued each other. They understood that if one of them began to limit the other in any way, this balance would be disrupted. August sat down and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Oh, how he liked having money and a title, it was flattering. He was not arrogant, but passing a personal report to Himmler out of turn was worth a lot, and August smiled like a fox when he happened to leave someone to wait. However, even this paled in comparison to his love for and concern for Charlotte. How long will she be with him? It sometimes seemed to August that every day was their last. Secretary Charlotte Brown will work for him forever, but the girl Charlotte, the one who reads him books and lets him rest his head in his lap, will she be with him for the rest of their lives? August realized that it was not in her habits to be faithful to someone or something alone. In addition, he was worried about her psychological state. She says she stopped taking the drugs, but is that true? Is it so easy to forget the past? The only thing he realized only now was that the silence in the apartment oppresses him. It’s lonely at home when Charlotte isn’t with him. Even on days when hard work drained all strength and silence could be the best companion, Augustus sometimes thought about Charlotte’s warm hands, about her smile. He thought that every person in this city and in this country is lonely. How do all these people perceive their loneliness? Do they choke on it or enjoy it? Maybe they are filling it with important things, or maybe they are looking for meetings? Augustus accepted him calmly, realizing that he was not ready to give up loneliness in the near future. Loneliness is freedom. This is very valuable to him. Apparently Charlotte was thinking about the same thing, which is why she didn’t rush him into making decisions. Loneliness is tedious, and company is tiring. August looked at the city in the light of the moon and the blue-white reflections of the roofs seemed to him signs of what he was thinking about. Loneliness. *** Charlotte was in a hurry to get to work. Today she allowed herself to lie down for ten minutes, and it cost her too much, despite the fact that Augustus was kind to her. He hated it when people were late, even for a minute. When Scharführers and Unterscharführers were late, he always reprimanded them to the fullest extent. Therefore, Charlotte would not want to be in their place. Today is Wednesday, which means there will be a planning meeting at the general headquarters of non-commissioned officers. August always left such planning meetings darker than a cloud. And all because he had to see his ill-wisher — Friedrich Lehmann. Lehmann is an Unterscharführer, a man of about thirty-five, with brown almost black eyes and black hair, short, slightly plump. He is extremely envious, especially towards those who quickly rose up the career ladder and became higher in rank than him. Augustus ignored his comments. He, as a true aristocrat, was above this, although the words of the envious man left an unpleasant residue. Charlotte, noticing the approaching trolleybus, ran to the stop, pulling on her gloves along the way. The car took her straight to the Reichstag building, where the planning meetings were taking place. Surprisingly, with the advent of the new government there were fewer free riders, and this was pleasantly pleasing. People either did not take public transport at all or paid for the ticket. Looking at the people in the morning transport, Charlotte noted to herself that the people who travel in the morning and the people who travel in the evening are different. Habits, behavior… If in the morning, when everyone is nervous and angry, a trolleybus breaks down for some reason, anxiety increases exponentially. And in the evening they react very calmly. Indifference to little things awakens in them, which perhaps saves many from stress. She was not yet late when she got off the trolleybus, but August was already glancing at his watch and smiled approvingly when he saw Charlotte. — Good morning! — He was the first to greet her. He looked her up and down and noted that she was clearly getting ready in a hurry today. But she still looked stunning: she wore a gray suit, styled her hair in curls and wore pink lipstick. The day promised to be quite long. And besides, it was not customary for the Reichstag to wear very bright makeup. — Good morning. “Charlotte noticed that August was no longer in the mood and, in order to somehow support him, while they were walking, she quietly put a small chocolate candy in the report folder. She knew that Augustus would look at it before giving his report, and she hoped that it would cheer him up. Having entered the Reichstag and presented their IDs, they went to the second floor, simultaneously looking at the employees, how many they had already received from their superiors today. They turned towards the meeting room. Noticing Friedrich from afar, who was already heading towards him to spoil the mood, August straightened up and straightened his uniform. He knew how to answer this man. We need to take him by surprise. “Oberscharführer August Scholz,” said Friedrich with a sarcastic grin. He was the uncle of Arthur Lehman, that red-haired boy who once sat with Augustus on the commission, and now serves as a private. — Friedrich Lehmann. It was kind until I met you. — August straightened his leather gloves and, taking Charlotte by the arm, pretended that the conversation was over. Leman almost violated etiquette by moving to grab Augustus and detain him by force, but only adjusted his collar. — Mutually, August. What, are you still hanging around with your secretary-lover? — He looked at Charlotte with contempt and disgust. Charlotte, accustomed to his gaze, responded in kind. She didn’t even think about interfering, why? August should enjoy it and put him in his place. — My secretary, unlike yours, does not disgrace himself before Himmler. Unterscharführer Friedrich Lehmann corresponds to his superiors — he singled out his rank in order to put pressure on a weak point. It was clear from Frederick’s eyes that Augustus had succeeded. Friedrich remained silent, measuring his opponent with his eyes. They would have continued the argument, but the office opened and everyone headed towards him. Secretaries and adjutants remained outside. Charlotte, to tell the truth, did not particularly like these meetings, since secretaries and adjutants also had their own hierarchy. They waited until the end of the meeting, and although everyone knew each other by sight, they never spoke to each other. It was an unspoken rule. All relationships ended with glances of approval or condemnation. In the office, Augustus took his favorite place: at the very end. He liked to read the documents again before turning them in to make sure everything was correct. He trusted Charlotte, she became his right hand, but he believed that he needed to know everything himself, so as not to run into paperwork after every question. August unfolded the folder and saw a small chocolate candy. He smiled, apparently Charlotte put it down while they were walking. He was touched by her little surprises. The little ways she showed her caring warmed him. After all, this is the highest form of love. He put the candy aside and began to read the documents while the Unterscharführer uttered familiar words that hardly changed from planning meeting to planning meeting. He read and noted Charlotte’s professionalism, her skills had clearly grown since she began working for him. At first it was difficult for her, but the girl learned quickly. The meeting went on as usual, Augustus reported, answered all the questions that worried the management, and, having handed in the documents as one of the last, was leaving the office when they called out to him: “Oberscharführer August Scholz, wait,” the unfamiliar Unterscharführer grabbed August by the elbow and took him a little to the side. — Heinrich Himmler demands you personally, but this is not about the camps. — August felt uneasy. — OK I understood. Having said this, he walked out, his heels clicking, to Charlotte, who remained alone in the corridor. — Well, how did it go? — her gray eyes instantly made me forget about the bad. He walked around her and, bending down so that their eyes were at the same level, said: — Himmler wants to see me, there is some business and this does not concern the camps. So now we go to him. “Yeah…” Charlotte was noticeably embarrassed. She was always embarrassed, as if for the first time, when his face was so close, although they kissed more than once. Charlotte had already turned in the direction of Himmler’s office when a firm hand stopped her on the shoulder. “Are you addressing me as ‘you’ because we’re at work, or because you’re embarrassed?” — Charlotte blushed so much that it became visible even through the pale powder on her cheeks. “I…” she tried to find words. “Because we’re at work,” she blurted out in a whisper. August just laughed at this and, grabbing her by the waist, led her to Himmler’s office. In the secretarial room, as always, there were many people waiting for an audience. The Reichsführer himself had not yet returned from the meeting of senior officials. The Oberscharführer and his secretary stood at the end of this line. While they were waiting, August pulled a small box of candy from his pocket, opened it and offered it to Charlotte. The girl loved all kinds of candy, so she took it without hesitation. Augustus noted long ago that Charlotte loves everything hard and sucky. Toffees, caramels, lollipops. He himself had never enjoyed sweets, especially in hard form, but he bought them for Charlotte. Seeing Himmler walking along the corridors of the Reichstag from the Fuhrer’s reception room, where angry remarks were heard. He looked like a cloud, and his cold, calculating gaze cut through space. Himmler walked past them into his office, nodding cursorily. Apparently today the planning meeting did not go well not only with August, but also with the highest ranks of the SS. August and Charlotte looked at each other. This was the first time they had seen him like this. It was even scary, but August intuitively understood that he should not be afraid. Following Himmler was Hedwig, you could see how nervous she was. Everyone who had been waiting in line for a long time immediately attacked her with questions, but the woman could not utter a word and disappeared into the office. Ten minutes later, she left the office with empty eyes and walked towards them with a light gait. Her movements were constrained, it was clear that every step was difficult for her. — August, go to the Reichsfuehrer’s office. Charlotte, he asked you to stay here. August and Charlotte looked at each other with concern. — Okay, I’m on my way. He disappeared into the office, and Charlotte received a sympathetic look from Hedwig. Scholz’s secretary could hardly cope with her excitement. August entered the office, which he now knew by heart. There were no special features about it other than the imprint of Himmler’s personality. The mere presence of his figure changed everything. The atmosphere in the office directly depends on the mood of its owner: right now he was in a state of cold rage. August stopped, almost touching the door with his shoulder blades; he did not dare to come closer. Finally, Himmler calmed down a little, the darkness in the corners dissipated and Augustus risked moving forward. The Reichfuehrer calmly, like a boa constrictor watching a rabbit, watched as August struggled with himself and approached his desk. When Scholz was at the proper distance, Himmler began: — Oberscharführer Scholz, I wanted to discuss the workers who are employed in the concentration camps, both those already built under your leadership and those just under construction. “Okay, Reichsfuehrer,” he said it clearly, without hesitation and with enough emotion so as not to seem rude. “Sit down,” he pointed to a black leather chair that stood to the left of the table. — I’m listening to you, Reichsfuehrer. — If I’m not mistaken, many German workers have already been included in future projects from the SA? — Yes, it is true. “And just like last year, they’re going on strike, right?” “Nothing has changed,” he grinned. — Yes, this is really a problem. And quite serious, since it causes dissatisfaction among other workers, too.” August sat on the edge of his chair and felt the tension in his entire back. “The fact is that a large-scale operation is being prepared; the SA may interfere with its implementation. All you need, August, is to shoot the workers who are in the opposition groups. You will be informed of the date and time, new workers will be sent in the next couple of days. This will not affect the delivery of objects in any way,” he finished and looked away briefly, giving August the opportunity to cope with himself. “I understand,” he barely managed to say. — If that’s all, can I go? — He tried to say this in a more or less collected tone, but nothing came of it. “Free,” Himmler nodded and raised a cigarette to his lips. August stood up from his chair, turned around and, on weak legs and with the full feeling that he had been hit on the head, walked towards the exit. He did not distinguish between space and time, he moved as if under water. He opened the door and, taking a deep breath, walked out to Charlotte.