Chapter 10

The day after the Officers' Dinner, Lieutenant Hans Mahler came to the tailor shop again.

"I came to tell you that you were right," he said in a low voice. The others had all gone to lunch and she hadn't left yet, but he was careful anyway. "I complimented my boss on how well he looks in his uniform, and how well he does his job, and he invited me to spend Christmas with him and his wife at his house." He grinned at Sophia victoriously and she smiled at him. Officers of the High Command were given houses just outside the camp, and had their families with them. And Lieutenant Mahler's boss was second in command, and he was his aide.

"And I want to order another uniform," he said. "He admired how well mine fits. I told him he should have you make him one. Maybe he will. Thank you for the good advice," he said.

"Thank you for the ‘tip,'" she said cryptically, and he laughed. He had had another idea and wondered if she would be willing.

"An inmate cleans my quarters, a poor girl from Linz. She doesn't clean very well. If you do it, we could talk," he said, blushing, "and I could leave you some food." It sounded to Sophia like a form of prostitution, cleaning his house in exchange for food, and whatever else he had in mind. He clearly liked her. She was tall and graceful with a good figure and a pretty face, and even in the prison uniform, he thought she was beautiful.

"Lieutenant," she said, and he stopped her.

"Call me Hans. When no one is around of course." She nodded, not sure if she would.

"There is something I need to tell you, that you don't know about me. And thank you for the very generous offer. I'm not just a nurse, I'm a nun too." He stared at her in disbelief, speechless for a minute.

"A nun? Seriously? You've taken all your vows? How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. I've taken the first ones, not the final ones. I'm a novice." He looked relieved.

"Then you can still change your mind."

"You can always change your mind," she said quietly, "but I don't want to. I've always wanted to be a nun."

"That's ridiculous and a terrible waste. You're beautiful and you're smart. You should marry and have children."

"God got me first." She smiled gently at him, which made her even more desirable. "I'm married to Him."

"No," he corrected her. He was Catholic too. "You're engaged. You can break an engagement if you meet someone else. It wouldn't need a divorce."

She laughed at the analogy. "I just thought you should know, with your kind offer to clean your house."

"The other woman comes twice a week. Maybe I could have you one day, and her one day, so no one is suspicious."

"And what would you like me to do, in addition to clean the house?" she asked him directly, and he blushed. He was actually well brought-up and treated her with respect even though she was an inmate of the camp. To him, she was just a very beautiful woman, and he loved talking to her. She was smart, and kind.

"That would be up to you," he said respectfully. "I know what my wish would be, and maybe in time.... I won't force you to do anything you don't want." Oddly, he looked a little like Claus, both tall, blond, Aryan, aristocratic-looking men, at opposite poles politically, and now poor Claus was dead. And Hans was very much alive.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. He could have raped her if he wished or done any number of horrors to her, and she knew he wouldn't. He was technically and practically her enemy, but she trusted him. And cleaning his house would mean food she could share with the others. "It sounds interesting, and since it would only be once a week, maybe they would let me keep this job."

"I can arrange it," he said. And then he looked serious for a moment. "Your records say that your father was a traitor and defied the Führer's orders. What did he do?"

"I don't know exactly," she said. "I think it had to do with something medical that he wouldn't do. My father is very principled." A shadow crossed his face then. He wanted to be sure her father hadn't been part of a plot to kill the Führer, or something equally serious.

"Maybe it had to do with Aktion T4," Hans said, guessing randomly. "The euthanasia program, of ‘undesirables,' ‘for the good of the Fatherland.'"

"My father would never have done that," Sophia said, and Hans nodded. "They destroyed his beautiful private hospital, and our home, after he was arrested."

"They're not kind to traitors. And I looked at your records. You were out late at night, that's all? Your records say you were suspected of illegal activity, but it doesn't say what."

"That's all. They said they expected the daughter of a traitor to be one too. And my sister escaped to Switzerland with her husband when he discovered he's a quarter Jewish."

"They don't forgive that. So now you're paying for their sins," he said, sorry for her.

"And my own, whatever they are. Not very serious ones." It wasn't entirely true, but it was best if he believed that.

"I can tell. You're not listed as a nun, you know," he told her.

"I haven't changed my identity papers since I joined the Sisters of Mercy, and I'm Sister Anne."

"You are Sophia Alexander to me. Remember, you're only engaged to God, not married," he teased her, and they both laughed. He hadn't convinced her, and she knew he never would. No matter how nice he seemed, he was a Nazi officer at a concentration camp. She hadn't lost sight of that, no matter how handsome he was, and how much he wanted to help her with privileges and food. And more, if she let him. "I'll see about getting you the assignment to clean the house," he said, and then he had to go back to his office. "And don't forget the second uniform."

"Yes, Lieutenant," she said, smiling at him, and waved as he left. He was beaming. He had a plan, and loved the idea of being alone in his house with her. Sophia knew what she was doing was wrong, but he was offering food she could share with her friends, and maybe other favors down the line. She wasn't going to do anything bad or have sex with him, and she liked him, as much as was possible given who he was. The prisoners did what they had to do to survive here. She felt lucky to have met him, and grateful for what he wanted to do for her. But she was never going to love him, or sleep with him, no matter how handsome he was.

Hans was smiling when he went back to his office. He wasn't going to rush her, but he knew he had met the woman of his dreams. And one day, she would forgive him for his job during the war. He could tell she was a kind, generous young woman and she'd forgive him, he was sure. He was no fan of the Führer's either. He had no choice in the matter. He was a soldier and had to do as he was told.

The request to have Sophia clean his house once a week went through quite simply. He filled out a form, made out a request for a change, and it was approved. And the other young woman kept the job once a week. No one challenged it. They didn't care which prisoners cleaned his house.

Sophia started right after the New Year. She continued to work in the sewing rooms, and his second uniform fit perfectly now that she had learned what to do.

She was allowed to leave work at noon on Fridays, in order to clean his house. He had a small cozy place to himself, and he was impeccably neat. He was there the first time she went, having arranged something for himself that allowed him to leave his office early. She looked nervous when she arrived, but no one was there except Hans. He looked meticulously immaculate, and she had tried to look as clean and orderly as she could in the prison uniform. The first thing he did was walk her into the kitchen and open the refrigerator and the cupboards.

"Eat whatever you want," he said generously, "just don't make yourself sick." She couldn't believe all the good things he was offering her. Fruit and vegetables, milk, eggs, a ham, orange juice he squeezed himself, fresh bread. They were on rations, but the SS were generous with themselves. With his encouragement she made herself fried eggs and a slice of ham, a piece of toast, and drank a glass of milk. She felt slightly sick the first time, unaccustomed to eating anymore, but she kept it down, and was stunned by his generosity. She took slices of bread for her friends, and some slices of ham, and two oranges. Thanks to him, she could keep all five of them alive, and eat a real meal once a week herself. It was the best gift he could give her, life force for them.

In gratitude, she cleaned his house until it was spotless. He admitted that he gave food to the other young woman too, though not as lavishly, but always some fruit, or bread, or a slice of ham, or some sausage.

When she finished cleaning the house, he made tea for both of them, with honey, and they sat and talked for an hour, like normal people in another world. He was twenty-seven years old and had been studying economics in Berlin when he got drafted into the army when the war broke out. He wanted to work in finance after the war, like Heinrich. His father was a lawyer. Hans was the kind of young man she should have met long ago and never had. And now he was an officer in this hellhole where untold horrors happened, and unimaginable suffering was inflicted on the prisoners on the Führer's orders.

Sophia knew she would never be able to get past that no matter how kind he was, or how well he fed her. He didn't believe in many of the principles of the Reich, but he was still following orders to inflict harm on others. She couldn't bear the thought.

Hans told her about the news of the outside world at times. He told her that on December seventh, the Japanese had bombed American military installations in Hawaii. The United States and Britain had declared war on Japan the next day. Then Hitler declared war on the United States three days later. That was shocking news. And he told her that German U-boats were sinking ships off the east coast of America, which surprised Sophia too.

Their arrangement worked well. Sophia spent a whole afternoon at his home once a week. Hans was usually there, gazing at her, wishing he could put his arms around her and go to bed with her. She was true to her vows, but they talked a lot, and she ate. There was a lot she liked about him. He was responsible and honorable and a kind person, but also a Nazi, which she couldn't stomach. He didn't like the war either, or Hitler, but he was loyal to Germany and his commanding officers.

She had never heard anyone speak of him as part of the mistreatment of prisoners, but he was there, still a Nazi and part of the SS. She and her friends were benefiting greatly from the food he gave her. It always had to be small enough so she could carry it without being noticed, which she hadn't been so far. She and her four friends looked better and had more energy now, and Tamar wasn't coughing as much. She still didn't look as well as the others, but she was older. Age was not an advantage at Ravensbrück. You had to be young and fit and have endurance to survive. So far they all had, now thanks to Hans.

Sophia was lying on her bunk on a Sunday in April. She had been in the camp for six months by then, and Hans had been feeding her and her friends for four months, since she started cleaning house for him. If it had been discovered, he would have been shot. He was risking a great deal for her.

Hans had said he wished he could see her on Sundays, since they were both off, but there was no way he could without exposing their friendship. That would have to wait until after the war. He had his heart set on more than that eventually, or sooner, once they knew each other better. For now, he was trying to respect her vows, which was hard. Sophia had just turned twenty-three, and she was surviving the hardships of the camp that they had to endure, in part thanks to him, but also due to her own strength and will to live. She refused to give up and let the brutal treatment by the Nazis kill her. Hans wanted to protect her as best he could, but there was only so much he could do without putting them both in grave danger.

She was lying next to Jo on their bunk when she had an idea and whispered to her. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Of the barracks? You mean for a walk?" Jo whispered back, not sure why they were whispering, except if Sophia had another chocolate bar from the lieutenant. His gifts, which Sophia shared equally among them, were making life almost tolerable for them. Jo had the hardest job of all on the construction crew. And a new rule had been put into effect two weeks before, whippings as punishment, to incite the women to work harder. The whippings were vicious, and it was something more for Jo to worry about and endure.

"No, I mean out of here," Sophia said more precisely.

"The camp?" Jo said even more audibly, and Sophia nodded.

"There has to be a way. There are five of us, we can figure out something." Some of the camps had been declared impossible to escape from, but with so many of the inmates with outside jobs, there had to be a way to confuse the guards at some point and slip away. Sophia was convinced of it. Jo nodded excitedly.

"I'm game. I'd rather risk it and die, than stay here." She had no idea whether or not her husband was still alive. Since he was Jewish, there was a strong likelihood he wasn't, although none of them ever said it. "What about the dogs?" The soldiers used them to find people if they tried to escape.

"Let's think about it," Sophia said.

It took her a week of constant thinking. She whispered her idea to the others in bed one night, when all four of them were huddled together on their bunk, under their blankets. "On the nights when there are night shifts at the factories, we slip out with them, and get on the trucks. The guards don't watch them that closely, because they're the most trusted inmates here. We make our escape from the factory. They don't take roll call on the trucks or when they get back. I asked. We take off from the factory. They may not even notice until the next morning, when we miss roll call. That gives us a head start."

"To where?" Hedi asked. "And in what?"

"To anywhere. On foot, just as far and as fast as we can get."

"In our prison uniforms?" Brigitte whispered, dubious of the plan, but anxious to escape too. But the plan had to be a good one.

"I have access to the closet," Sophia reminded them, where all the fancy confiscated clothes were, which came from rich Jewish women, and which were then offered to the wives of the SS High Command. There were some spectacular clothes there, with fancy labels from big designers. "I do all the repairs before they go back to Berlin for the wives to pick through them." They had never thought of that. "We can look like ordinary women and then disappear. We can wear them under our uniforms on the way to the factory." They all fell quiet then, thinking about it.

"We'd have to walk a long way to get out of the area and hide somewhere. We have no papers," Jo said.

"I have some contacts," Sophia said softly. "They can get us out of the area, maybe to the Swiss or French border. I can call them once we're out. We can hide in wooded areas and forests along the way." They talked about it for a long time and then fell asleep. None of them were sure, and it was a daring plan, not easy to pull off, but not impossible either.

Sophia talked about it to Tamar the next day. They wanted to include her, although she was the least healthy and would have the hardest time keeping up, but they wanted to offer it to her. She was the quickest to agree.

"I want to do it," Tamar told Jo and Sophia. "If I don't get out of here, I'm going to die. I just get sicker and sicker lying here. Will you really let me go with you?" They both nodded.

"We won't go without you," Jo said, and Sophia agreed.

"We have to figure out which factory truck we want to join, I think the one with the greatest number of workers." And often they didn't use the dogs on factory nights, because the inmates allowed to work outside the camp were known to be trustworthy.

"When do we want to do it?" Tamar asked, and Sophia was quick to answer.

"June. It's warm. Six weeks from now. We need time to plan, and I need to steal the clothes, that'll take time too. We'll go on a Friday night—the guards are more relaxed on Fridays. And I go to Hans on Fridays, I can get enough food to last us for a couple of days or longer if we stretch it."

The plan was taking shape in all of their minds. They each had suggestions to contribute. What they would need most was courage to see the plan through, no matter how dangerous or frightening. The only way to do it was to keep going no matter what happened, even if they got hurt or shot at or attacked. The only reason to stop was if they were killed, which could happen too. But if they made it, they were free. It was enough to make them risk anything. Their eyes blazed with hope at the thought of it.

"What about your boyfriend?" Hedi asked Sophia.

"Who?... oh... I can't ask him. They would put him in front of a firing squad for sure if they found out. And he's one of them after all. We can't take that risk." They all nodded agreement and dropped the idea of enlisting Hans's help. It was one thing to smuggle food to them, and an entirely different thing, of unthinkable magnitude, to help them escape. He would be shot as a traitor for sure. Sophia doubted he would do it. She wasn't going to try. In the end, no matter how kind he was, or how much he liked her, the women were prisoners, and he was a guard.

May was the prettiest month Sophia had seen so far in Ravensbrück. There was a gentleness to it, a warm light. The weather wasn't hot yet, but warm enough, with sunny days and balmy nights. It meant that June would be even better, which would be good for them when they made their escape. They were almost ready and had refined the details of their plan. Sophia already had most of the clothes they needed but not all. She had them hidden at the back of a closet in the sewing room. She needed shoes they could walk in, and even run if they had to, and she had found those too. They had tried to think of everything, and had made steady progress to put the plan in place. It made them all nervous but they were excited too. Tamar was particularly hopeful. She could almost smell freedom in the air. She had been at Ravensbrück for more than two years.

Sophia was sitting with Hans in his garden on a Friday afternoon. She had already cleaned the house, and no one could see into his garden. They were enjoying each other's company, and she told him it was a special day.

"Why? You've decided to give up your vows?" he asked hopefully, teasing her. He brought the subject up often, to no avail so far, but he hadn't admitted defeat yet, and never would.

"No, it's my father's birthday." She smiled at him. "I hope he's all right." She'd had no news since his arrest, and it had been eighteen months. "You would love him, he's such a good person, a good man. He's a man of principle," she said, as a cloud crossed Hans's eyes, and she saw it. It was just a glimmer, but she'd known Hans for six months and she had just seen something that struck fear in her heart. "What?" He was silent for a long time. "Have you heard something?" Her heart was beating faster while she waited for him to answer.

"Sophia," he said, and gently took her hand in his. "When I looked at his arrest record and asked you about it, I saw something," he confessed.

"What?" She clutched his hand so tightly it hurt him.

"I didn't want to tell you. It was in the records. He died in Dachau last June." He said it so softly she could hardly hear him. She let out a cry and he held her as she sobbed and then looked at him again.

"Are you sure?" He nodded. "Did they kill him?"

"No, it said he died of illness. Lung disease."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to take away the little hope you had. It's so hard here. I didn't want to make it even worse for you. And I didn't know you that well when I saw the notation. It's in your file now. I've wanted to tell you since then, but there's never a good time. Every day is hell here, for you and the others. I didn't want to make it worse."

"You've made it better," she said sadly, with tears still on her cheeks. "I might have died before this, just from starvation." She was still desperately thin, but the sustenance he provided gave her strength and kept her going, and her friends too. It was minimal, and only once a week, but still an enormous, life-saving gift. All the others had nothing and there were dozens of deaths every day. And now her beloved father was gone. She had no hope of ever seeing him again. But at least she knew the truth. She was sure Theresa didn't know either. She would have to tell her when she saw her or spoke to her again, which might not be for a very long time, unless their escape was successful, and there was a very slim chance of that.

Sophia sat quietly in the May sunshine then with Hans, holding hands. He put an arm around her and she leaned against him. Some of the strength had gone out of her, hearing the news, which was what Hans had been afraid of. He would have kissed her if he dared, but he didn't. He just sat there, holding her, and desperately sorry for her as she grieved the man he would never meet and she would never see again. The price of war was too high.