The Voice on the Radio

A birthday celebration cast in shadows

Helene's hands shook as she sat by the little stove, trying to darn Heinrich's socks. The stove wasn't on, despite the chill permeating the living room. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and checked to see that her little girls still had them on as well. The coal had run out before the winter was over. With the war going on, they were lucky to have gotten any at all. It was only because of Heinrich's ties to the Nazi party that they had enough food and coal to last through the coldest parts.

That evening, they were listening to Berlin Radio. Heinrich was reading over some paperwork by candlelight at the table while Trude and Christel were playing with their dolls on the floor. It was April 20, 1943, Hitler's birthday. Apparently, the Fuehrer's birthday was being met with a lot of celebration, despite the war on both fronts. The Hitler Jugend was a large part of making the celebrations happen. In fact, Helene's own son, Guenther, was one of them out there, parading and doing who knows what else in the name of the Vaterland.

On the radio, the broadcasters were summarizing the day's festivities. As the family sat there peacefully, it was currently replaying a speech from Gauleiter Joseph Goebbels: "If one could draw the nation's face," he said, "it would most likely show the profound wartime changes which we find with serene pride in the Fuhrer's face—furrows of hardness, determination, suffering, endurance, sacrifice, bitterness, and strain.

"Germans often complain that the Fuhrer, although a decisive factor in the whole political and military trend of events, is almost completely hidden by work. This is in eloquent contrast to the practice of nonentities in the enemy camp, who never miss an opportunity to show themselves in the full brilliance of the world's footlights."

Suddenly, the broadcast was interrupted when a ghost voice cut in saying, "Hitler's henchmen have been in power too long. German people, awake. The time has come to finish with the Nazi gang. Down with Hitler, down with his gang On the day of Hitler's downfall, the war will end. Five hundred thousand people have been made homeless by British raids. The raids won't stop but will increase. Germans, whom do you want to suffer?"

The ghost voice was in German, a voice of furious treason that cut through the calming reassurance of their leaders. Looking over at Heinrich, she saw that his face was turning a deep red; you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. "Komm, children," she said. "It is time for bed."

"But, Mamma!" Six-year-old Trude complained. "I'm not tired!"

"We have a long day tomorrow, and the candles are running low. It is time to sleep." She quickly ushered her complaining daughter as well as Christel, the three-year-old already falling asleep. She knew that her husband would be unbearable tonight. His belief in the Nazi Party and an undefeatable Deutschland made him hot-headed at times. Her hands shook as she tucked the girls into their beds. Darn these frail hands! If only she were healthy and strong, but alas, she would just have to wait out the night and hope that as the sun rises, so will her spirits.

The ghost voice was like a nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Although Hitler insists that the war is going well, rumors quietly circulating suggest otherwise. The allies are gaining ground; she heard the whispers from the Zwangsarbeiter, the Polish workers forced to labor on their farm. She prayed fervently that the war would come to a quick end. Their family had been lucky not to have been sent to the front due to their farming exemption. However, Guenther, at 15 years old, wouldn't be eligible for the draft for another couple of years, but there were rumors that the limit may be lowered soon.

She hoped that the ghost's voice wasn't a prelude to things to come. Germany would be victorious, her children, even young Annegrete, who had already been sent west to Helene's sister, would come home, and all would be well once again. She could only hope and try to still her trembling hands.