“I want to walk around Berlin, but they say I can’t.”
“It’s not advisable.” Herr Rudolph pled his case in German to Mr. Forwood, who spoke the language as fluently as he did French and English.
When they were finished, Mr. Forwood pulled Amelia aside, out of their hearing. “I think you should stay here.”
“Why? What are they afraid I’m going to do? See something I’m not allowed to see?”
He flashed a look that said that was exactly what they were afraid she might do. The truth dawned on Amelia. They weren’t here to see the real Germany, but a pretty picture postcard with none of the ugly things she’d glimpsed during the car ride here. Amelia glanced over his shoulder at the butler and maid watching and trying to listen. They spoke fluent English. She hoped they didn’t speak French. “They’re spying on us, aren’t they?”
He nodded, then answered in French, “They probably think you’re a spy too. This isn’t Paris. Things are different here and I can’t vouch for your safety if you veer from our itinerary.”
He was right. She’d read newspaper stories about American gentlemen being mistaken for Germans and punched when they didn’t give a proper Nazi salute. She didn’t want to be pigheaded and get herself in real trouble.
“I’ll stay. I have things to do anyway,” she replied in English loud enough for the maid and butler to hear. They exchanged relieved looks then returned to their work.
“Thank you. I’ll try and arrange an outing for you.”
Amelia removed her hat and set her purse on the table, then thought better of leaving it where anyone, including Herr Rudolph, could riffle through it. She set up her portable typewriter on the desk near the window. The view from the hotel was all of Berlin she was going to see.
“It’s exactly like it was when I was here in 1918.” The Duke slapped his knee in excitement at the picturesque views of farms, fields, and rolling, tree-covered hills on either side of the Autobahn. “Of course, we didn’t have this magnificent road then, but everything else is the same. I had so much fun with Uncle Willie and Aunt Augusta. This brings it all back.”
“This road is one of the finest in the world. Feel how smooth it is.” Dr. Ley positioned his squat body between the two rows of seats. He raised his hands to show how steady he was then wobbled and quickly grasped the backs of the seats.
“He’d be a great deal steadier if he weren’t constantly drunk,” Wallis whispered to Amelia, who choked down a laugh. Dr. Ley often took discreet sips from the bottle of schnapps he kept in his uniform pocket whenever he thought no one was looking.
“His Royal Highness should be careful where he lights his cigarette. It might ignite the fumes surrounding our host,” Amelia whispered back, and Wallis’s face lit up in amusement.
The two of them sat together near the back of the large and luxurious Mercedes bus ferrying them to a military school on the Pomeranian border. The Duke sat at the front and reveled in the view of the German countryside. Amelia didn’t care what she saw so long as it wasn’t the same four walls of the Hotel Kaiserhof. She’d barely been outside since their arrival, buried under a constant stream of press inquiries, callers, deliveries, and cables. Despite Mr. Forwood’s assurance, no sightseeing had been arranged for her but more work had piled up. She suspected someone was making sure she had extra tasks to keep her busy and off the streets of Berlin. She’d diligently done what was asked of her until Herr Hermann Goering had insisted she change the Windsors’ Leipzig hotel reservation because the hotel owners were Jewish. Amelia had politely declined, turning the onerous task over to Mr. Forwood.
“We have all the modern conveniences on board.” Herr Goering, a barrel-chested man with dark, slicked-back hair, pointed to the telephone on a small shelf beside him. “Wireless telephone, we can call anyone from anywhere.”
“Marvelous.” The Duke was thrilled by the custom Mercedes bus with its large windows, small kitchen, and the two waiters in white coats and black trousers who served canapés and drinks. A radio played a selection of music from Wagner’s operas.
The flatness of the Autobahn soon gave way to the rolling hills of the Crossensee as the bus climbed up a winding mountain road.
“There it is, Ordensburg.” Dr. Ley pointed out the window at the stoic fortress of angles and hard stone perched on the side of the hill. It was an austere and chilling place with long, low buildings broken by a single, ominous tower.
“You’ve received quite an honor today,” Herr Goering said as the bus pulled to a stop at the front of a column of black-uniformed soldiers standing in front of a contingent of students in identical khaki shirts and green shorts. “This is where the SS Totenkopf train. They’re the elite of the elite and here to welcome you.”
“What does Totenkopf mean?” Amelia whispered to Mr. Forwood as they followed the others off the bus.
“Death’s head.”
That couldn’t be good no matter how much Herr Goering or anyone else talked it up.
The soldiers in their high, shiny boots and black uniforms broken by red swastika armbands threw up their hands and shouted, “Heil, Windsor!”
His Royal Highness raised his right arm in return as the Death’s Head band played “God Save the King.” The British anthem drifting over the brutal fortress and surrounding countryside was more chilling than the cold fall day.
I should have stayed in Berlin. She’d wanted to see Germany. Now that she’d had a good look at it, she didn’t like it at all.
Nothing about the salutes or the rigid line of soldiers bothered His Royal Highness. He inspected them as if they were his old Welsh Guards regiment, stopping every few feet to speak with the soldiers in German and accepting and returning their salutes. The train station had practically been a melee. This was a well-coordinated show of strength and power.
They passed from the parade ground into the school’s main building, where more students and officers greeted them. The interior was as austere as the outside with heavy, exposed-beam ceilings and stark white plaster walls broken by a large map of Europe with Austria and Germany painted as one country.
“In the Great War, I used to inspect the troops like this. They loved me and I couldn’t get enough of them,” His Royal Highness said to Wallis before he stepped up to the line of officers and officials inside who showed him the military respect he’d been denied since leaving Britain.
After the formal greeting, Herr Goering and Dr. Ley escorted His Royal Highness on a tour of the school. Frau Goering took charge of Amelia and Wallis.
“Ladies, if you’ll follow me, I’ve arranged for a nice tea.” Frau Goering led them to a small sitting room, clearly a man’s office given the dark wood walls and the lack of decorative pillows or patterned furniture. Large windows showcased the stunning view of the tree-covered hills and the young men doing calisthenics on the field below.
“Quite the stoic institution.” Wallis sat in one of the wood and leather chairs surrounding a low table. A silver tea service engraved with the Nazi eagle sat in all its Art Deco formality in the center beside a similarly decorated china platter with tea sandwiches. The gold eagle was also stamped on the china cups, saucers, and teaspoons.
“It’s an honor to attend Ordensburg. Only the best are selected for admission. Students receive a very comprehensive education in strengthening the body,” Frau Goering explained in her heavily accented English as she poured the tea. She was a stately Swedish woman with wavy blond hair parted in the center and pulled loosely back from her oval face. According to Wallis, she’d been a famous actress in Germany before she’d married Major General Hermann Goering. “The rest of the time they attend classes on racial biology and German history.”
Amelia didn’t ask what a class in racial biology was, not sure she wished to know.
“They also study politics, especially Bolshevism.” Frau Goering handed Wallis her teacup. “One must know their enemies to face them.”
If the Germans placed so much emphasis on studying the Russians then perhaps His Royal Highness was right about the two countries fighting it out and leaving the rest of the world alone.
“I noticed the map in the entrance hall doesn’t have the border between Germany and Austria,” Amelia remarked, earning a scrutinizing gaze from Wallis, who barely touched her food.
“Germans in Austria dream of being reunited with the fatherland. In time they’ll decide to make that dream a reality.” Frau Goering turned to Wallis. “I must offer my deepest condolences on His Royal Highness being forced to abdicate. Herr Hitler feels it is a great loss to Britain and Europe. You would have made a glorious queen.”
“How kind of you to say so.” Wallis practically glowed under Frau Goering’s flattery. “His Royal Highness was driven from England because they were afraid of his desire to make peace instead of war. Rest assured, His Majesty’s Government will regret what they’ve done, perhaps not today, but in time.”
