Johann and Daniel
by Charles Lacey
Chapter 5
Johann.
Gottfried and I didn't meet all that often. It was wartime and we were discouraged from being on the streets more than was avoidable, and of course at night time there was the curfew, after which being outside without a very clear reason could lead to one's being casually shot and killed by a Nazi soldier. But having been instructed by him in the practice of onanie, I did the same as boys have no doubt done since the world began: I continued in it upon a regular basis.
I always, of course, attended Mass with my parents on Sundays and Holy Days. From time to time the good Father Moritz, or even the Bishop, would deliver a fearsome sermon on either the Sin of Sodom, or the Sin of Self-Abuse, and the spiritual consequence of such practices. Fortunately, I did not connect this with my gentle self-stimulation or my interest in other boys, and Papa, if asked for information, would be evasive and change the subject. I continued to apply myself to my school studies, and did well enough. Things at home were not easy; it was becoming more difficult to find supplies of food. Traudl, bless her, did her very best for us, but all sorts of disagreeable substitutes were coming in. Ersatz coffee, for example, made from roasted acorns.
I turned fifteen, and joined the Hitler Jugend. I had not the slightest desire to do so, but Papa pointed out that if I did not, it would mark me out as not supporting the Nazis, and that could be dangerous for us all. So I joined them, learned the Horst Wessel Lied and drilled, and marched, and sang with them. I will admit that the constant vigorous exercise helped to continue my physical development and I became quite sturdy and muscular.
But I went to a summer camp, with several hundred boys and youths, and we occupied tents in groups of two, three or four. I was in a tent with two other boys, Albert Gluck and Hermann Schmidt. Albert and I formed a friendship straight away, but Hermann was a fanatical Nazi and treated us with suspicion, as he did everyone not actually wearing Nazi uniform, from the outset.
But perhaps he was right to do so. For the friendship between Albert and myself was far from innocent. It started when we were changing one morning from our night clothes into our uniforms. Hermann had gone out on some business or other, and Albert and I had been slightly dilatory in getting out of bed. We took off our night clothes, and each of us noticed the other covertly studying our bodies. Both of us had partial erections and when Albert noticed mine, he gave his own a little stroke. This had the inevitable result of our both getting fully hard, and then – I don't know exactly how it happened – but we both started to stroke ourselves, and then each other. Just then, we heard footsteps outside, and sprang apart just in time. Hermann Schmidt came in, reprimanded us sharply for our dilatoriness and told us to get moving.
So we got out, on parade, and did the things that were expected of us: drilling and marching and practising the dreadful Hitler salute. But that evening we undressed and once again started to stroke each other. I was surprised also to find Albert's hand feeling my backside, but I found it a pleasant sensation and did not try to dissuade him.
One thing led to another and before long we were taking the opportunity to feel each other and thoroughly enjoying it. I began to feel that the Hitler Jugend was not such a bad thing after all. Once the irritating Hermann had left in the morning we would sometimes get into one bed for a good cuddle. It was lovely, being that close to another boy, warm and reassuring. But then one morning disaster struck. We had got together in Albert's bed, and fallen asleep. The detested Hermann came in to see where we were, and found us there together.
Well, of course under the infamous Paragraph 175 of the German Penal Code, homosexuality was illegal, punishable in extreme cases by death. Hermann ran off, obviously to report us to the authorities. Albert and I put on our clothes as quickly as we could, but before we could do anything further one of the camp seniors arrived and we were frogmarched to the Commandant's office.
We were, as you can imagine, in the most frightful trouble. The Commandant ranted and raved at us. We were disgusting, we were a disgrace to National Socialism, we were insulting the Führer, and so on for several minutes on end. Eventually he gave a Hitler salute so rigid and violent that I almost wondered that he had not hurt himself, and handed us over to a couple of soldiers.
We were, of course, terrified. For anything we knew to the contrary, we might well be taken outside and killed by a firing squad. But we were put into a car and taken to Linz, to the Nazi governor's office. Then, just as we arrived, and were being dragged out of the car, some shots were heard and the noise of some kind of commotion came from round a corner. The soldier who had charge of us told us to stand still and not move, while he went to see what was happening. Well, of course as soon as he went we took to our heels. By then I was a pretty swift runner, and left Albert some way behind me, a fact that I have felt guilty about ever since. He was caught and sent to the concentration camp at Sachsenhausen where after the war I heard that he had died. But I knew that part of the city well and dodged through a good many side streets, aiming for Papa's office, when I ran full tilt into a lady. Of course I stammered my apologies, but she asked me what I was running from. "Quick!" she said, when I had explained, "come with me."
She led me rapidly through several streets and into a house, then pushed me through a door and down some steps into a cellar. It was windowless and dimly lit from one electric globe. "Stay here," she said, "and don't make a sound." She closed the door and I heard some furniture moving above my head. Then there was silence.
But after perhaps half an hour, I heard the furniture move again, and the lady came back. She introduced herself as Alicia and told me that she was a Resistance agent. I couldn't see her well as the room was only dimly lit, but she was quite tall, slender and fair haired, aged perhaps thirty-five or thereabouts. I'd already explained to her that I'd been caught in bed with another boy at the Hitler Jugend camp. To my astonishment, she had seemed to be neither surprised nor shocked. Now, she asked my name and address, and which school I attended.
"I can hide you here for a few days," she said, "but not longer, as I will have other people coming. But if you stay here for now, I will make some discreet enquiries. I think your best option will be to try to get to Switzerland; in Vaud and Geneva cantons, I think, your kind of love is not illegal. It ought not to be illegal anywhere, but most people are so prejudiced. Perhaps after the Allies have won the war, you could make your way to Denmark."
It was a great shock to me to hear someone suggesting that the Allies might win the war, but in my inmost heart I hoped that it might be so. All patriots, we had been taught, be they German, Austrian, Czech or whatever, revered the Führer and desired only to become good German citizens. But secretly I hoped that the Führer and his party might be defeated so that we could all go back to being good Austrians again.
I could only thank Alicia for her understanding and kindness, but she brushed it away. "Love is love," she said, "and you find it in the most unexpected places." I was to learn, over the next few months, just how true that was.
I stayed in that cellar for that night and most of the next day. Then towards evening I heard the furniture move above, and a boy, very out of breath, came down the stairs. The furniture moved again, and we were left together in the dim light from the electric globe. We couldn't see much of each other, but he was dark haired and very slender. He looked to be about my age. We introduced ourselves; it did not surprise me to learn that he was Jewish; his name was Daniel Kohn. He was worried sick about his parents; they had been hunted out by the Nazi soldiers and thrown onto the street. He had run towards the only place of safety he knew, the synagogue, but had been frightened away by more Nazi soldiers outside. But Alicia had been nearby; she had heard Jewish people being attacked and had hidden near the Synagogue in the hope of rescuing one or two; she had grabbed Daniel and brought him to safety.
Poor Daniel was so frightened and emotional that I just had to put my arms around him. He was blinking back tears all the time. When he had become a little calmer, we sat down on the hard chairs that were the only furniture down there, and waited for Alicia. It was after midnight when we heard the furniture move above, and she came down, wearing a very grave expression.
"I'm so very sorry," she said to Daniel. "Your mother and father were taken by the soldiers. They will almost certainly be sent to one of the concentration camps. You will probably not see them again until the war is ended. And when that happens – and may God grant that the Allies are the winners, and that it may be soon – there will be a great reckoning." Next to me, I could feel Daniel trembling. I put out a hand to him and he grasped it tightly.
"Now," said Alicia after a pause. "I hope you can get to Switzerland. I don't know whether to suggest you go separately or together. Either way has dangers. If you are together you will be able to look out for one another. If you are separate you will be less conspicuous. On balance I think you would be better to go together." I think we had both already decided that would be the best thing.
"Oh, and Johann," added Alicia, "Don't, whatever you do, go home. The Gestapo, the secret police, will be looking for you. I will try to find a way of getting you out of Linz unseen, but after that you will be on your own." With this she went back upstairs.
Daniel and I sat on the floor, backs against the wall, covered with a blanket that Alicia had brought down. We didn't dare even to talk, but from time to time his hand sought mine. In the small hours of the morning Alicia came down again. "I have a friend who is a commercial traveller. He is taking samples from here to München and is prepared to take you both as far as there. You will have to lie flat on the back seat and be covered with a blanket. And if you are discovered, you will both swear that you found the car unattended and got in without the driver's knowledge. He is taking an immense risk for you, but there are special reasons why he is prepared to do so. But you need to decide now."
Daniel and I looked at each other and nodded. "Yes," I said, "we will go now. And I promise that if we are found I will tell them that we crept in unseen when the driver was away for a few moments."
Alicia led us upstairs to where a car waited outside. We crept into it and lay side by side on the back seat. It was a very tight fit, but it was a big car and we were both very slight. We covered ourselves with a blanket that we found on the seat and lay there silently. After a few moments we heard the driver's door open and close, the engine started and the car moved off. I was surprised by my thoughts at that time. I was lying close to a very good-looking boy of about my own age. I had no sexual excitement – we were both far too nervous and apprehensive for anything of that kind to happen – but I did feel already a kind of affection for him, if only as a fellow fugitive. The fact that he was Jewish did not even enter my mind. He was just another boy like me. And we were both frightened and running for our lives.
We drove for perhaps an hour, and then the car stopped and the driver got out. I took the risk of peeping out from under the blanket, but it was pitch dark. The driver got back in after a couple of minutes, and then to my surprise did not start the engine, but leaned over and said, "you can take the blanket off and sit up for a while."
He was a young man with an open, pleasant face. His German was correct, but slightly stilted. I thought perhaps he was Swiss. What I was not expecting was the stream of questions he asked. He seemed to want to know every detail of our lives, especially how we came to be on the run. But despite the endless questions, he seemed to be friendly. After perhaps half an hour of this, he let us out to do a necessary thing at the side of the road, and then hid us again under the blanket. "We must make good speed now," he said. "When you get to München, don't for God's sake try to go by railway. The Nazis are watching every train that goes through there. Travel any other way you can, but keep out of sight. If they catch you.... But when you get to Geneva, go to 171 Rue du Boulanger and ask for Madame Lenoir. Tell her you are friends of mine, friends of Christopher, and she will help you."
I wanted to know much more about this man, of course. But there was no opportunity to ask him, and anyway the less we knew about him the less we could reveal if we were caught.
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