Berlin blood

“I hope they’ll let us in there.” “Ilsa said in a quiet voice, walking around a huge puddle. On the other side, Andreas repeated her actions. — Albrecht promised to take care of everything. “The man answered her when they stood next to each other again. Today, on the first chilly day of November, the trial of Gunther was supposed to take place, which Ilse was looking forward to. She hoped to see her lover, but her even greater hope was that Gunther would be released to her. She so wanted to meet the coming night in his arms. The rain poured down like buckets, and Ilse had to cover herself harder with a blue, plain umbrella. She thought about the upcoming event, not having heard Andreas’ last words at all, and nodded at him inappropriately. The courthouse appeared ahead, and Ilsa's feet began to walk faster. She hurriedly walked around all the puddles, but her boots were still wet through. However, Ilsa Becker did not care at all. Her heart trembled, worried about something else. She wanted to believe that the outcome of the trial would be good for everyone. Ilse and Andreas entered the building and immediately found themselves in a bustling atmosphere. People were rushing around, tension reigned in the air. This situation reminded Ilse of the day when Hitler committed suicide. Everyone then was also running around like crazy, and barely understood what to do next. A minute later, Albrecht approached Ilse and Andreas, who had recently found Ilse and gave her a message from Gunther that he was waiting for her at the trial. “Frau Becker,” Albrecht greeted Ilsa, and then shook hands with Andreas. Ilsa was embarrassed that everyone addressed her as Frau, because such treatment was reserved only for married ladies. However, she was sick of the word “Fräulein”, and therefore she never corrected anyone. And, besides, she could well consider herself a married girl from the very moment when she said her first “yes” to Gunther. Ilse greeted Albrecht back, and the inspector continued: “Follow me.” I'll take you to the correct courtroom. Albrecht led them to the end of the corridor and opened the heavy door, telling them to take the very last rows. There were already quite a lot of people in the hall, and Ilse noticed that besides her and Andreas, there were several other women sitting in the last row, who were dressed all in black, as if they had come to a funeral. Ilsa took her eyes away from them so as not to attract unnecessary attention to herself, and began to look around the room. The room was spacious with high ceilings. The walls were cracked here and there and the paint was peeling off, but overall the room created a pleasant impression. Although the situation was oppressive and tense, Ilsa did not yet feel how it was putting pressure on her. However, Becker’s palms still sweated from excitement. Several more people entered the hall, and Ilsa thought that one of them must have been from the prosecution. Judge of truth and justice. Today they will judge others, analyze their mistakes, and present facts. Have any of them ever admitted their mistakes? Did any of them have the courage to say that he was wrong? Ilsa thought that there were quite a lot of such people. Especially those who considered themselves superior to others, those who thought they were better. What happened to all of humanity that they became so blind at once? Since they immediately began to consider war an art? “Andreas, tell me,” Ilsa quietly turned to her companion, “is there a chance that humanity will come to its senses?” The man looked at Becker, sighed and, hanging his head, answered: “There’s always a chance, Ilsa.” But humanity is far from understanding which people should be valued and which should not. Unfortunately, our talented people are at the very bottom. And they have no way to shout to others. Just look what's going on around you. Surgeons became waiters, engineers became dishwashers. But who sits in the place of judges? Corrupt people who have enough money in their safes to feed an entire army. If you took all the money that is spent on war and politics every year and used it to help the poor, you could wipe out the slums from the face of the Earth, and also solve the problem of hunger forever. But humanity is far from this; first it would have to understand what it wants and what is true. We needed artists, writers, poets, musicians, sculptors, designers and many other professions who have a connection with God and speak to him more than we do and convey his messages to us through creativity. And they were. And what did we ultimately do in gratitude to these people? “Ilsa remained silent, Andreas continued: “We destroyed them.” They destroyed them, considering them trash. And now everything will have to be built anew so that the world does not collapse completely. Becker did not have time to answer him, as the judge entered the courtroom, and after him the guards brought prisoners, among whom she noticed Gunther. Her heart trembled, her palms sweated even more. Ilsa eagerly looked at his haggard face, at the bruises under his eyes, at his growing beard and hair. Gunther fixed his gaze on the floor, but then at some point raised his head, and his eyes met Ilsa’s eyes. Becker smiled faintly and nodded to him, noticing how a dull half-smile lit up Lieutenant Colonel Richter's face. The day promised to be long and hard. The rain outside the window intensified, and thunder rumbles were heard somewhere in the distance. The secretary announced the start of the trial, and the onlookers fell silent. Silence reigned in the hall.