Chapter 8

Theresa's baby was born in July, on schedule this time, another boy. He was smaller than Thomas had been, and the birth went quickly. She was holding him in her arms the first time Heinrich saw him, and he looked at his wife with a proud smile.

"You're getting good at this," he praised her, and he had a handsome son. Theresa was only twenty years old, and Heinrich had just turned thirty. They named the baby Wilhelm after Heinrich's father.

"Next time, I want a girl," she pouted prettily, and he put a sapphire bracelet on her wrist. Bernhard and Ursula came to visit her the next day, with gifts for the baby, a silver cup and spoon, and a teddy bear. Theresa was already up and walking around her hospital room and wanted to go home. The baby nurse was holding the baby, and Theresa's hairdresser had come to do her hair. Heinrich couldn't wait until she could go out again and they could see their friends. Her room was full of flowers from those who had heard the good news.

She wrote to Sophia from the hospital, and the letter arrived at the convent in August, after it passed the censors, but there was nothing objectionable in it. It was all about the baby, and the birth, and Heinrich. Theresa still sounded like a little girl to Sophia, who smiled when she read the letter. She existed in another universe from Sophia, and always had, but more so now, married to a wealthy man. He still had no news of his parents' whereabouts. His lawyer in Zurich had told him that there was no way to find out where and how they were until after the war. But it had begun to seem less and less likely that they had survived. Life in the camps was too hard for people their age. Sophia and Theresa were in the same situation, unable to find out anything about their father, although they at least knew to which camp he'd been sent. Heinrich didn't even know that.

Sophia was busy at the convent and the hospital in September, and time seemed to be rushing past in her daily life with so many chores and so much to do. But the war news had been dragging, nothing seemed to change, just more countries falling into the Nazis' hands.

Greece and Yugoslavia had surrendered to the Germans in April. The Luftwaffe had bombed London mercilessly in May. The British took revenge on Hamburg the next day. The German Navy had sunk the British ship HMS Hood, and three days later, the British Navy had sunk the Bismarck, the Germans' largest battleship. At home in Germany, Hitler's generals, led by G?ring, were preparing the Final Solution, to eradicate all Jews from the face of the earth. But in a broader sense, there was more happening abroad than at home.

The Jewish children who had escaped the first roundups had been in hiding for two or three years by then. It had been two years since war was declared. Claus was busier helping to blow up munitions depots and supply trains than moving hidden children around Germany. He had been missing meetings lately, engaged in dissident activities, away from Berlin. Sophia still attended the meetings faithfully, and she missed seeing him when he wasn't there.

In October, the German army was active on the Russian Front, advancing on Moscow, and the Russians were a formidable opponent. The British were refusing to be defeated by Hitler, protecting their island with courage and determination. There was a lot to keep track of in the world, and Sophia tried to stay well informed. The news in Germany was increasingly depressing, with concentration camps overflowing and Jews exterminated in massive numbers whenever possible.

She saw Claus at a meeting in October. He looked tired and thinner, and she hadn't seen him in two weeks.

"Where have you been?" she asked in a whisper when he sat down next to her. She noticed that his fingertips were blackened, and guessed that he'd been working with explosives.

"Don't ask," he whispered back. He looked distracted at the meeting, but there was nothing new to hear. They were talking about even more restrictive laws for the Jews, and the gas chambers at Auschwitz. The Führer and his generals were obsessed with his plan, called "the Final Solution," to obliterate all Jews from the planet, and they were confident they could achieve it.

Claus followed her out when they left the meeting and stopped walking for a minute. "I hate to do this, Sophia, but can I ask you a favor? I have a kid I've moved four times in six months. He has no family and we're all he's got. The neighbors are nosy everywhere I've put him. He's seven years old, and he's been in hiding for three years. I got a call tonight, and I have to move him. But I need to be in Wiesbaden tomorrow, I'll be driving tonight."

"Where is he?" He hadn't asked her for a while.

"Right here in the city, not far from you. If you move him for me tonight, I'll take him to Munich to a long-term situation when I get back. I need to get him to a friend now, who will keep him for me. She has three kids, he'll get lost in the crowd, and she'll keep him out of sight."

"Okay, where is he?" Sophia asked again. He wrote down the address in a simple code they used, and she shoved the piece of paper in her pocket. He looked serious when he said goodbye to her. "What are you up to?" she asked him. "You look worried." She knew him well after years of friendship.

"I've been doing some big stuff lately. High-stake gains, big wins, a little stick in the wheels of the SS, but riskier than usual."

"Don't do anything too crazy," she warned him.

"If I don't, who will?" he asked seriously. "We all have to be a little crazy to stop them, or they'll win in the end." It was a daunting thought, and she knew he was willing to risk his life for what he believed in.

"Just be sure you come back."

"Don't worry, and if I don't get back, my friend will take the boy to Munich. She has the details and the contact. I just have to get him to her."

"I'll take care of it," Sophia promised. She went back to the convent then, intending to slip out again that night. The person who had the boy was expecting her at ten o'clock. She didn't have far to go with him, once the streets were empty and there were fewer people around, but with patrols, nothing was as simple as it looked.

She didn't know why, but she decided not to wear her habit that night. A nun riding around on a bicycle at ten o'clock would look more suspicious than a young woman. She kept a set of black clothes in a small suitcase under her bed for missions like this one. She slipped into black trousers, a black sweater, and a black jacket. The nights weren't too cold yet, but it was chilly. She was going to take one of the nuns' bicycles and say the boy was her brother if she got stopped. Her official papers were still in her own name, not her religious name, which was convenient in a case like this.

No one stopped her when she left the convent. All the lights were out, and she didn't see Mother Regina watching her from an upstairs window with a worried frown. She could guess what Sophia was doing, and she said a prayer for her as she saw the bike disappear down the street, with no lights on it, and the slim figure in black fading into the night.

The woman who opened the door to Sophia at the address Claus had given her looked elderly and kind, like an ordinary grandmother. The boy had been with her for a few weeks, but she was afraid her neighbors were watching her, and she didn't want to risk the child. She had no children and wasn't worried about herself. She introduced Josef to Sophia, and he gave the woman a fierce hug before he left and said he would come back to stay with her after the war. He thanked her for the cookies she had made him. She had tears in her eyes and hugged him tight. He was nicely dressed and was taking nothing with him, except a small teddy bear named Fred tucked into his jacket.

The two women exchanged a serious look, and Sophia put him on the bike in front of her so he wouldn't slip off the back. She stood up to pedal and he had the seat. They didn't speak, and she chose the streets carefully, aware of where the main patrols usually were. It took them fifteen minutes to get to the address Claus had given her. They slipped into a garage as prearranged. The woman was waiting for them, and Josef disappeared as soon as he thanked her. And Sophia took off again, mission accomplished. Terrifying but easy. Nothing was really easy anymore. There was risk in everything.

She was almost back at the convent when a police car with its light off came out of nowhere and stopped her. The officer who got out of the car asked to see her papers, which were in order, and she handed them to him. She was sorry now she hadn't worn her habit, but she didn't want to attract attention or be hampered by it on the bike and could move more freely without it. He looked carefully at her papers to make sure she wasn't a Jew, and asked where she'd been. She said she'd gone to see a sick friend. He handed the papers back to her with a suspicious look, but he didn't stop her, and she could hear them following her at a distance. She didn't know whether to go back to the convent or not. He might find that even more suspicious, and if she said she was a nun, what was she doing out of her habit? She decided to go back anyway, as it was safer than riding around aimlessly on the bike. She drove the bicycle into the convent garage, left it there, let herself into the house with her key, hurried upstairs to her cell, and quickly put away the clothes she'd been wearing and put on her convent nightgown. She lay in bed for a long time, wide-awake with her heart pounding, but nothing happened, and after a while she fell asleep.

She got up with the other nuns in the morning, dressed, and went to Matins, their first round of communal prayers for the day. After breakfast, she was helping to clean up the kitchen when a police car pulled up in front of the convent. One of the sisters opened the door, and two SS officers asked to see the Mother Superior.

Mother Regina gave Sophia a quick questioning look when she walked into the kitchen, and Sophia shook her head, to let her know nothing had happened the night before. She had been stopped, which she couldn't say with the other nuns around. But the officers had let her go.

Mother Regina was calm and pleasant when she spoke to the officers in her office. One of them said that a young woman had been seen riding around the neighborhood the night before, after ten o'clock, and had let herself into the convent. He wanted to know if she was aware of it, who the woman was and if she lived there.

"Probably one of our postulants," Mother Regina said with a smile. "They're very young. They're not part of the order yet, and they're not used to our restrictive lifestyle. And some of them don't make it much further."

"Her name was Sophia Alexander," the officer said, consulting a small notebook he took from his pocket. "Is she a postulant?" he asked pointedly.

"A novice, just one step further. And a very dedicated nurse," the Superior said, vouching for her, as Sophia waited nervously in the kitchen. "She may have had a difficult case at the hospital yesterday and needed some air. It's irregular, I'll admit, but these are young women, and troubling times. I'll speak to her and see that she doesn't wander around late again. I apologize, Captain."

"May we speak to her?" he said, not easily diverted.

"Of course. She hasn't left for the hospital yet." She went to the kitchen and whispered quickly to Sophia. "What happened last night? I saw you leave."

"I got stopped by a patrol on the way back. I was alone, they never saw the boy. But it was late, and I was in street clothes. I thought it would be safer." Mother Regina nodded.

"They want to talk to you. Stay calm," she warned her. Sophia followed her to her office, looking serious and contrite. The SS officers seemed surprised to see her in her habit. She looked very dignified.

"What were you doing out so late last night?" the captain asked her as soon as she sat down.

"I was going to see a friend. I didn't realize how late it was, and when I did, I turned back."

"Were you wearing your habit?" he challenged her.

"No, I wasn't."

"Why not?"

"Sometimes I don't, if I go to see a friend," she said, looking apologetically at the Superior, who nodded. "I haven't taken final vows yet. And it's hard to ride a bike in a habit."

"Are you any relation to Thomas Alexander?" the captain asked her, his voice harsh, and Sophia was startled by the question.

"He's my father," she said softly. He had thrown her off balance with the question.

"I'm sure you're aware that he was arrested for treason against the Reich, sentenced to hard labor, and sent to Dachau."

"Yes, I am," she said, looking devastated, which was genuine.

"And your sister and her husband fled Germany to avoid arrest. He's a Jew. His parents were deported." He had done his homework. "You have a colorful family, Miss Alexander. And what about you? Are you a nun or simply masquerading as one, and a criminal like the rest of your family, committing crimes against the Reich?"

"No, sir, and I am a nun, and a nurse." He stood up then, and so did Mother Regina.

"I can vouch for Sister Anne wholeheartedly. I've known her since she was a young girl, before she came to us to enter the order."

"I'm sure a nun's habit is an excellent disguise for any criminal. Traitors come in all shapes and guises these days, even young women dressed up as nuns. Heil Hitler!" he said, and saluted them both. They returned the salute, and Mother Regina escorted him to the door. "We'll be back," he said ominously, and Sophia was shaking after he left.

"Oh goodness, Mother, I don't want to cause you any trouble."

"You won't, but you can't go out again like that," she said sternly. "It's too dangerous for you, and for us. I'm sure you'll get out of it this time, but you can't engage in secret activities, or go to the meetings anymore. They might follow you back here." Sophia nodded, knowing that the Mother Superior was right, and that she had been lucky so far, for three years.

She was about to leave for work when there was a call on the convent line, someone asking for Sophia. She almost panicked when Mother Regina told her, and she took the call in the Superior's office. Sophia didn't recognize the voice and the caller didn't give a name. It was a woman, and she was crying.

"I thought you'd want to know. Claus was killed last night. He was setting explosives on some train tracks. They saw him and shot him. He always told me to call you if anything happened. I'm sorry," the caller said, sobbing.

"So am I," Sophia said, her eyes full of tears, and she hung up then. The other woman was already off the line. Beautiful, sweet Claus who had taken Theresa to safety was gone. He had died trying to stop the Nazis one more time from destroying the country he loved. And he had been too brave for his own good. "My friend Claus died last night," Sophia said to Mother Regina after she hung up.

"Nowhere is safe anymore. Everything and everyone is dangerous," Mother Regina said. "You have to be satisfied with your life in the convent now, or you'll be the next one who's killed, or one of the children you transport." Sophia nodded, unable to speak as she thought of Claus. They might have been lovers if she hadn't entered the convent. Perhaps the woman on the phone was his lover. He never talked to her about women, and he had always been a little bit in love with her, or maybe a lot, while she loved him as a brother and a friend. It was a huge loss. Another one. The war had cost them so many friends and loved ones.

She went to work then with a heavy heart, worked all day, thinking of Claus, and came straight back to the convent afterward on the bus. When she got there, the same SS officers were waiting for her in Mother Regina's office. The Superior looked pale when Sophia walked into her office after she summoned her. The other nuns looked frightened.

"We have considered your case, and your family history," the captain said coldly. "Your sister ran away, rather than facing her crime of marrying a Jew, and he escaped with her. Your father refused a direct order from the Führer and in doing so, committed treason, and is now an incarcerated criminal. And what will you do? Will you run too, and go to your sister, wherever she is? Switzerland, probably," he guessed accurately, "where her husband must have been hiding money, defrauding the Reich by doing so. Her father-in-law was a Jew too. He and his wife died in Sachsenhausen, executed two days after they got there. Your entire family are criminals, Miss Alexander, and I believe you are too. Your nun's habit doesn't fool me. I am certain you're an enemy of the Reich, like your father and sister. You're under arrest, before you can continue any subversive activity you may be engaged in. You belong with other political criminals like you. We have places for people like you now, not behind convent walls. We have stronger walls to keep you from harming the Reich. You are coming with us." Sophia looked shocked and Mother Regina more so. She tried to object but the SS captain wouldn't listen. He was convinced of Sophia's guilt.

Sophia knew he wasn't wrong. He just didn't know what she'd done for the past three years, helping to hide Jewish children and escorting them to safety. Whatever punishment they meted out to her now, it would have been more severe if they knew the truth. She was being punished now by association, for her sister's flight, for Heinrich being a quarter Jewish, and for her father's alleged treason, which she still didn't believe, and never would. In fact, her crime was worse than the others, and she had done it many, many times in the past three years, with and without Claus and other dissidents. She had been terrified when the captain started speaking, but she wasn't afraid now. In her heart of hearts, she knew how many times she had broken their laws, which were a crime against humanity. Hers were a crime against a madman who had seized the country and was destroying it, and killing thousands of people, even children.

Sophia stood silent and tall, as the junior officer grabbed her arm and led her from the room in her habit. Tears ran down Mother Regina's cheeks. She could only imagine what they would do to Sophia now. The other nuns had gathered in the hall, worried, and they saw Sophia go with the two SS officers, to an unknown fate, but one she was willing to endure. She had no regrets about a single child she had saved, even if they didn't know about them. She did, and was proud of every child she had taken to safety, and she would do it again if she could. She looked back once at Mother Regina and the other nuns before she left, and she smiled.

"I'll be back," she said quietly. One of the nuns said later that Sophia looked like a saint.

"God bless you and keep you," Mother Regina said as the door closed behind her, and a minute later, they drove Sophia away.

All the nuns could do now was pray for her, that she'd survive whatever punishment they devised. All the officers could prove was that she had been out late at night. She had committed no crime that they knew of. But nowadays they shot and killed people for less. People were arrested and tortured for mere suspicions without proof. And there were Jews who had been killed for far less, even for sport, and police and soldiers were encouraged to do so. One fewer Jew was a gift to the Reich and the Fatherland. Sophia wasn't Jewish any more than her father had been a traitor, but she hated everything the Reich stood for, and was willing to die trying to stop them from harming even one more human being.

She thought of Claus as they pushed her into the car and locked the doors, and whatever he had done on the train tracks, he had been willing to die too, ever since it all started. For Sophia, it had been a decision, like the one to embrace the religious life. She couldn't stem the tides of history, or stop them, but she could commit herself heart and soul to do whatever she could, one human being at a time. And if they killed her, her life would have served a purpose. It was the only way to change an ugly, dangerous world—one step, one human being, one life at a time.