Uniforms

Spring 1936:

Lukas and Jacob return to der Spree to complete their training for the Olympic Games. In the changing room, Lukas noticed that Jacob had filled out more over the winter. “I see that you have been enjoying lots of Papa’s good cooking over the winter, Kiva!” He laughed.

“Yes, I have! Just you try to keep up with me in the shell, Luka!” Jacob smiled back at him as he pulled on his lifejacket. Lukas pinned his silver pocket-watch to the top of his swimming trunks.

Lukas and Jacob go out on the water in the shell. “Paddle!” Lukas shouted. They did a couple of circuits around der Spree to warm up. The cherry trees are all in bloom, like fluffy pink marshmallows, and they breathe in the familiar, musty tang of the river. “Look, I will time us now.”

“At the catch! Ready all, Row!” Lukas clicked the top of his pocket-watch and off they paddled down towards the Oberbaumbrucke. Nearing the bridge, Lukas clicked the pocket-watch again and peered down at its face, “8 minutes and 37 seconds. Not too bad for so early in the season, but we will need to amp it up a bit if we want to beat Evan’s team! They are speed demons!”

Returning to the dock, the Rowing Master eyed the pair in their long swimming trunks and ratty runners on their feet, “You boys can’t compete in the Olympic Games in those rags. Hitler would be mortified! You need proper German Olympic team singlets and uniforms.”

“How much do the uniforms cost, Herr Rowing Master?” Lukas asked.

“For the honour of rowing for Germany, 20 marks!”

“20 marks! I think that is what Mutter pays for our flat each month!”

“Don’t worry Luka, I will ask Papa for us.”

The Rowing Master minced, “Isn’t that sweet, your boy is going to ask ‘his Papa’ for the money to pay for your uniform.”

…

At suppertime that evening, Jacob said, “Papa, if you don’t mind, I have a boon to ask of you.”

“Speak, Kiva.”

“At practice today the Rowing Master said that we need proper rowing gear and uniforms, if we are going to compete in the Olympic Games.”

“Yes, this makes sense to me, Kiva. How much do you need?”

“He said that the whole German Olympic team kit would cost 20 marks.”

“Here, let me fetch some marks for you, then.”

“Papa, Luka needs a kit too.”

“Oy, his mother cannot afford this?”

“Unfortunately, this is so Papa.”

Papa walked into his bedroom and opened the top drawer of his dresser, where he kept some money for emergencies. Returning to the dining room, he passed Jacob a 50-mark banknote.

“Thank you so much, Papa,” running up to hug him. “Luka will be very pleased.”

“I hope so, Kiva.” He removed Jacob’s arms from around his neck. “Listen, I would like to meet your friend’s mother sometime. Will you invite them to dine at Seder with us, at Passover?”

“Yes, Papa. I will ask Luka at our next practice.”

…

After practice the next day, Jacob went up shyly to the Rowing Master, “Here is the money for our uniforms.”

Taking the 50-mark note from the boy he said, “Gut! There are some Olympic kits on the table at the back of the office. You boys go and grab one each. One each only, mind! I will be counting them!” He returned a handful of marks to Jacob in change.

“Jawohl, Herr Rowing Master!”

Lukas and Jacob tried them on in the changeroom. There is a rowing singlet for the actual race and a uniform for the opening ceremonies consisting of a set of black breeches and a white polo shirt emblazoned with the German Eagle. Jacob looked very smart in his and Lukas started to feel flushed. “That looks really good on you, Kiva!”

“Danke, Luka. By the way, Papa has invited you and your mother for Passover on Monday. Will you come?”

“Ja, I will certainly come, Kiva. I want more of your Papa’s cooking! I will ask Mutter if she will come, also.”

“I hope so, Luka. Papa really wants to meet her.”

Passover

6 April 1936:

Lukas stood in front of the glass in the lavatory shaving dark stubble from his square jaw with a straight razor. Then he oiled his dark hair and used the end of his comb to part it neatly to the side from front-to-back. He pulled on his only eveningwear, a burgundy brocade jacket over a cuffed white oxford cloth shirt and grey flannel trousers. He had purchased them from the old tailor in the F-Markt, with a promise to repay in installments. A serviceable pair of his father’s tasseled brogues completed his outfit. They just about fit him. He pinned the silver pocket-watch Jacob gave him at Christmas to his chest.

Lukas stepped into their salon to see that his mother had coifed her flame-red hair atop her head and donned her best dress and shoes. “You look very handsome tonight, my Luka!”

“Danke, Mutter. Are you planning to attend a ball at the old Kaiser’s palace?” He laughed.

“We must look our best for Jacob’s father, who has been so kind to you.”

“Jawohl! Are you ready to go, Mutter?”

“Yes,” she said, grabbing her purse. They took the U-Bahn over to the bookshop in central Berlin.

Lukas led his mother around the back of the shop, and rapped three times. Jacob came bounding down the stairs and opened the door. “Come, in come in, Gertrude and Luka!” He looked at his friend in his eveningwear with brown eyes as big as saucers. “You look beautiful tonight, Luka!” Gertrude rolled her eyes.

All three went upstairs and sat down on the chesterfield. Through the archway they can see Papa is just setting the roast lamb out on the dining room table. He is wearing his ceremonial Kittle over his eveningwear, a white linen robe. He came over to clasp Gertrude’s hand. “It is so nice to finally meet you, Gertrude. I am Patricius. Patric, for short.” He said in his deep voice.

Standing, she said, “I am glad to make your acquaintance too, Patric. I want to take this opportunity to thank you for purchasing my Luka’s Olympic Games uniform. I hope that we can repay our debt to you, someday.”

“It is nothing, a small trifle. I am pleased to be able to help out. Hello, Lukas, it is also nice to see you again.”

“And you, Papa.”

“Now, shall we begin the Seder? Please come and sit down at the dining room table.” As Jacob sat down, he knew that Papa had laid the table with their finest china, silverware and crystal, only brought out at Passover.

Sitting at the head of the table, Papa’s eyes took on a far-away look as he recounted the story from the Book of Exodus. “The Pesach ceremony comes from the time when our ancestors were enslaved by Pharaoh in Egypt. Yahweh sent ten plagues against the Egyptians as punishment for detaining them. The tenth and last was to be the death of each family’s firstborn. Our ancestors were told to mark the lintel of their door with the blood of the lamb, so that Yahweh’s Angel of Death would pass over their houses and spare their firstborn from the same horrible fate. Thus were our ancestors able to flee from Pharoah’s captivity.”

Papa sharpened the ivory carving knife and used it to carve thick slices of roast lamb onto a big platter. He turned to Jacob, “Since you are the youngest here, Kiva, will you recite the ritual four questions and answers?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Why is it that on all other nights during the year we eat either leavened bread or matza, but on this night, we eat only matza?

We eat only matzah because our ancestors could not wait for their breads to rise when they were fleeing slavery in Egypt, and so they were flat when they came out of the oven.

Why is it that on all other nights we eat all kinds of vegetables, but on this night, we eat bitter herbs?

We eat only Maror, a bitter herb, to remind us of the bitterness of slavery that our ancestors endured while in Egypt.

Why is it that on all other nights we do not dip our food once, but on this night, we dip them twice?

The first dip, green vegetables in salt water, symbolizes the replacing of our tears with gratitude, and the second dip, Maror in Charoses, symbolizes the sweetening of our burden of bitterness and suffering.

Why is it that on all other nights we eat meat either roasted, marinated, or cooked, but on this night, it is entirely roasted?

We eat only roasted meat because that is how the Pesach Lamb was prepared during sacrifice in the Temple at Jerusalem.

As counterpoint, Papa replied in his deep voice, “We do these things on Pesach night, in remembrance of the persecution and hardships our ancestors had to endure, and in gratitude for our freedom.” Turning to Gertrude and Lukas he said, “Let us now take a sip of Manischevitz, and eat!”

Lukas took a sip of his wine. The ruby-dark wine is warm and very sweet, not something he would like to drink very often. In addition to the roast lamb, there is what looked like chicken soup with balls of dough swimming in it. He poured that into his bowl from a large tureen in the middle of the dining room table. There is also salted spinach as a side vegetable dish in a yogurt sauce. He filled up his plate with a bit of everything, including thick slices of the roast lamb, topped with a sharp mustard sauce. Turning to Papa, he asked, “What is this white fish?”

“That is what we call gefilte fish. The carp is caught in Lake Muggelsee, ground up and then formed into small round patties and fried.” Lukas decided to quietly pass on the fish.

They all took their first bites and complimented the chef in turn.

“Danke.” Papa turned to Gertrude, “I hear you sing at the Kaftan, Gertrude.”

“Ja, it keeps me out of trouble.” She laughed.

“I myself have been there a time or two. It is a very interesting place. Each night you may see different things there.”

“Yes, you should have seen the night I dressed up in Hitler drag and sang The World has Become Small. I never heard the end of it from the owner, Max.”

Papa laughed his rich deep laugh. “That IS something that I wish I had seen! Oy, and I hear that you have a cat TOO!” He said sardonically, lifting his eyes skyward.

“Schatten is very cute, he hangs around our flat looking for treats.”

“Mutter spoils das biest!” Lukas laughed and took a small sip of his wine.

Changing the subject, Gertrude asked, “May I ask what happened to your wife, Patric?”

“Marta died in an automobile accident. We were coming back from a book-hunting trip in Paris. Jacob was only very little, at the time.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Patric.”

Jacob piped up then. “Luka, what do you think our chances are of qualifying for the Olympic Games this summer?”

“Look, we will need to practice very hard to beat the Rowing Master’s Helfer. He is unnatural!”

“Rowing, rowing, rowing. Olympics, Olympics, Olympics. That is all I hear about these days!” Gertrude exclaimed with a moue of disdain. “Patric, my Luka will also be graduating from Oberschule this June.”

“Oy, that is some news, Lukas. Are you going on to Universität in the autumn, then?”

“I am not sure Papa…” He hesitated. “I am not really one for school, not like Kiva here is, what with his Hebrew studies and all. I think I will make my mind up after the Olympic Games, assuming that we qualify, of course.”

As they were all near to finishing their dinner, Papa said, “Let us chant the Echad Mi Yodea (Who Knows One), to conclude the Seder.”

One is Hashem, one is Hashem, one is Hashem! In the Heaven and the Earth;

Two are the tablets that Moshe brought;

Three are the Fathers;

Four are the Mothers;

Five are the books of the Torah;

Six are the books of the Mishnah;

Seven are the days of the week;

Eight are the days ‘til the Brit Milah;

Nine are the months ‘til the baby’s born;

Ten are the ten Commandments;

Eleven are the stars in Joseph’s dream;

Twelve are the tribes of Israel;

Thirteen are the attributes of Hashem!

“Would you like to play that Monopol game you gave me at Christmas, Luka?”

“Sure, we could try it out.”

Papa and Gertrude cleared away the plates into the kitchen while Jacob brought the game out from the sideboard in the parlour. The two boys set the game up on the dining room table together. “I will be the banker,” Jacob said.

“Gut! I will mind the street cards, then. Mutter will you be playing also?”

“Ja, I want to see what this game invented by l’Américain is like.” She sat down at the table. Papa joined them, looking at the colourful game board unfolded on the dining room table, “This game looks like it could be great fun!”

Lukas read the rules to everyone from a small sheet of paper and then they each picked out their game piece. Lukas picked the tin lantern, while Jacob settled on the rocking horse. Gertrude chose the purse, leaving the little tin top hat for Patric. They each took turns rolling the dice, moving around the board buying properties and charging rent to their fellow players. All told it was quite an enjoyable game.

Looking at the pile of cash growing on the table in front of Papa, Gertrude laughed. “Patric, you seem to have a knack for this game!”

They played and played and played, while Papa picked off each player, one after another.

“Ach, I have landed on Papa’s fancy Park Platz again,” Jacob exclaimed with dismay, and handed his father a fistful of orange banknotes from his rapidly shrinking pile of money.

“Mein Gott, will this game never end?” Gertrude said. She had been the first to go bankrupt. Standing up, “It is getting late, Luka we should probably leave Patric and Jacob in peace.”

“Jawohl, Mutter.”

Papa and Jacob saw them to the back door. “Be safe on your journey home, Gertrude.”

“We will! Danke for the lovely dinner, Patric! Auf Wiedersehen!”

A Book Burning

Mutter is out. Their telephone rang and Lukas ran into the kitchenette to answer it. Standing in front of the mouthpiece, he picked up the earpiece from its cradle and said, “Hallo?”

“Lukas? It is Evan.”

“Hi Evan. Funny that you are calling me right now. I was just thinking about you.”

“Aw, that is sweet, it makes me feel all warm down below.” Over the line, he can hear Evan taking a drag on his cigarette. “I didn’t see you at practice today, Lukas, is everything alright?”

“I picked up a bit of a sniffle. Mutter told me that I had better stay warm and dry. She has gone out to get some chicken soup for me from the delicatessen.” He laughed. “Look, where are you calling me from anyway?”

“I just got back from Stuttgart. I am staying at Vati’s flat in town. He is still away on business.”

“I see.” Lukas replied uncertainly.

“Listen, my youth group is staging a little demonstration tonight. If you are feeling up to it, did you want to come?”

“Perhaps. What are they planning to do?”

“They are going to make a bonfire out of a bunch of stupid books taken from Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität.”

Wishing to impress the large boy, he accepted. “Where and when?”

“Meet me down at Hackesche Hofe, at 21:00 hours.”

“Ach, why there, Evan?”

“Because it has the most bookshops in Berlin, of course.”

“Jawohl, I will be there.” He placed the earpiece back into its cradle.

…

That evening Papa and Jacob are in the parlour, playing the Monopol game. To Jacob’s great dismay, Papa is winning as usual. They heard a commotion on the street out front. “Vas is das?” Papa said, lifting his eyes skyward.

They looked out their front window to see that a lorry was pulling up. The back lifted and dumped its contents into the middle of the street, a pile of books. They can hear young people shouting “Juden, entartete! Homophilia, entartete! Degenerates!” and “Deutsche, defend yourselves. Don’t buy from Juden,” as more books were piled on top.

Jacob saw Lukas and Evan standing side-by-side in front of the lorry. He watched as Evan pointed to the jerry can beside the lorry. Lukas picked it up and poured petrol all over the pile, which had grown to the size of a large automobile. Evan tossed his cigarette on and the pile went up, with a great woosh. They had to step back from the conflagration to avoid the intense heat that was generated.

The unruly crowd laughed and warmed their hands as the bonfire slowly consumed the pile of books. Off in the distance, the sound of sirens approaching. The lorry backed up and drove away as the crowd dashed off into the night, leaving a great big mess for the Berlin Polizei to clean up.

Turning away from the window in disgust, Papa said, “That scene we witnessed just now misgives me greatly, Kiva. I will pray to Yahweh for their guidance.” He went into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Jacob, uncertain what his father’s reaction might be on the morrow, folded their aborted game into a drawer of their sideboard and went to bed himself.

…

Nobody at the bookshop or the flat in Horst-Wessel-Stadt slept very well that night. The next morning, Papa doesn’t want to make the morning obeisance to Yahweh. Instead, he said to Jacob, “Come into the parlour with me, Kiva, I have something important to talk to you about.”

“Yes, Papa.” They sat side-by-side on the chesterfield.

“What happened outside in the street last night was an absolute disgrace. Those youths burning perfectly good Jewish books, among many other books. I cannot find the words to adequately describe it. Blasphemy is the closest I can come up with.” He said in disgust. “What do you have to say about this, Kiva?”

“I agree, Papa, it was a very bad thing that they did, especially since we are booksellers.”

“Yes, we are booksellers, Kiva, but what I mean is, books should never be banned or destroyed, no matter their content. Books are our living memory! Without them, how can we remember our past mistakes, and learn from them?” Papa is beginning to choke up. “Do they think to play God, and silence our voices?”

“I am very sorry, Papa.”

Papa took a deep breath to compose himself. “It is not you who must ask forgiveness for the error of your ways. You saw your friend there, participating, did you not?”

“Yes, I did see Luka throwing books onto the pile and then lighting the bonfire, goaded by the Rowing Master’s Helfer.”

“Well, then. That dark-haired boy is nothing but trouble!”

“But I like him, Papa!”

“No! He is… is… a dirty Hund! He will do nothing except drag you down into the dirt with him, Kiva.” Papa put his foot down and demanded, “I forbid you from seeing him again!”

Head down and starting to cry Jacob said, “Very well, Papa.”

“Go into the lavatory and clean yourself up. We need to open the shop very soon.”

…

Gertrude, up very early that morning, rounded on Lukas in the salon in their flat. “Mein Gott Lukas! How could you do that, destroying important literature and terrorizing innocent people in the street!”

“Vergib mir Mutter… I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t think it was going to get that much out of hand.”

“Der Hitler Youth, that is their modus operandi. Are you running with that crowd, now?”

Lukas, with his head down, didn’t answer his mother.

“I am very disappointed in you Lukas. I thought that I had brought you up better than this.”

“Am I to be punished then, Mutter?”

“Nein. I gave you your life, my Luka. You are a man, after all, and have the free will to make your own decisions, the good ones or the bad, are your choice. But just remember what Howard your father used to say during the Great War: ‘Take what you want, and pay for it.’” She turned away.

“Mutter, if you don’t mind, I am going to talk to Jacob.”

“As you wish. I am going to make a pot of Kaffee.”

…

Lukas pedaled hastily over to the bookshop, wondering what he will find. Propping his bicycle against the window and entering the shop, the radio is on as usual in the background and he can hear a singer singing his sad song about a lost love.

Jacob came right up to him. It looked like he had been crying. “You can’t let Papa see you here,” he hissed. “I am very sorry Luka, but Papa has forbidden me from seeing you anymore. I am very, very sorry.”

Crestfallen, Lukas said, “Not as sorry as I am, Kiva. I will miss you very much. Perhaps we will meet again someday?”

“Perhaps.”

“I will respect your father’s wishes, then. Farewell, Kiva.” Lukas said over his shoulder as he closed the door to the shop. Lukas pedalled slowly along the Oberbaumstrasse, not seeing anything. The radio song kept echoing in his head:

Cry sad tears, then dry your eyes and mend your heart,

Life’s too short to waste sweet time, love is gone now you must start.

Deep blue eyes smile at you across the room,

You say that his were brown, and he is not the guy that you once knew.

Don’t go looking for, that heart you loved before,

You can’t replace him with the same kind of face.

Don’t dream that sweet old dream. Its not the final scene,

Be open to somebody else, someone new[1].

Without even realizing where he was going, Lukas found that he had pedaled himself back to the Rowing Clubhouse. He found Evan there already. “Where is your mate?” he asked.

“He is not coming anymore, Evan.”

“A pity. Well, would you like to train with me instead?”

“I guess so. I wouldn’t be able to find another mate now, and be ready in time for the Olympic Games in August.”

“Gut! My mate was never very good at keeping up with me anyway.” He smiled at Lukas. “Go change then, mate!”

“Jawohl, Evan!” He said over his shoulder as he sauntered into the changeroom.

[1] Don’t Go Looking, performed by Matt Dusk. Written by Steve N. Anderson and Thomas Mark Harmer Nichols.

Next Chapter: Chapters 15 to 17 - Things that Boys Can Do