Berlin Wolf Read Online Free Page A

captain?’ he said over and over.
    Most of all he felt guilty about Sara. For whilst his wife grieved for the loss of their son, he had knowledge that would have relieved her suffering. Knowledge he had kept to himself: ‘Peter is alive’. He repeated the words in his head.
    Seconds after he had argued with the Captain on the boat and bright searchlights ahead had almost dazzled him, he had turned away to shield his eyes, just in time to see the familiar bobbing head of Wolfi. Not only Wolfi, but the shape of a young boy behind being towed to shore. He had almost shouted for joy and demanded the Captain turn the boat around, when the orders ‘this is the Gestapo. You are under arrest. Bring the boat to shore’ reached his ears.
    The shocking realisation of the impending events and their certain capture, was softened only by the knowledge that his son had escaped, for now. He could not give the game away. Peter needed every chance. Wolfi had twice done his bit to save Peter today, now he must do his. Much though he ached to, he could not tell Sara as they were roughly pulled from the boat. Nor could he break his silence as they were searched.
    All the time the soldiers, assisted by the Gestapo, searched the riverbank for Peter, he dared not tell Sara that he knew their son was alive. Even in the agonising moment when the Captain had vouched that he had seen him drown, he could not relieve her pain. As they prodded bayonets into crevices he could say nothing.
    Now, some hours later in the stinking dusty cattle wagon on a train siding at Anhalter Bahnhof he could at last break his silence. Certain that the enemy was not around, he leaned forward the few centimetres to his wife’s ear and whispered, ‘Sara my darling, our boy is alive. I saw the dog tow him from the water.’ She did not react. He repeated it a little louder this time.
    â€˜Our boy is alive. I saw Wolfi tow him from the water. Our boy has survived.’
    Finally the news registered. Sara’s body shook as her sobs worsened. Tears of mingled grief and gratitude snaked down her face.
    â€˜He will be all right Sara. Wolfi will look after him and he will look after Wolfi. Together they
will
survive.’ He emphasised ‘will’ more in prayer than firm belief.
    * * *

    As soon as he could Peter left the concrete path running alongside the river. He had found it difficult to prevent the sound of his footsteps echoing and the surface was hard on Wolfi’s paws.
    â€˜Only ten kilometres to home, Wolfi, so a nice long walk for both of us,’ he said.
    Where possible it was better for both to walk on soft ground. They were less likely to come across any other pedestrians if they avoided the paths. The combination of the blackout and the blackness of the night allowed them to cover ground rapidly. Whereas a man might struggle across rough terrain in the darkness, Wolfi’s instincts enabled him to lead Peter around the various bushes and shrubbery that might otherwise have been an obstacle.
    Peter’s navigation technique was quite simple: he would retrace their route and stay as far as possible next to the river. This admirable approach was successful to a point; however he knew that in parts the river opened into lakes and tributaries making for tiring detours. In normal circumstances he would have relished a long walk with Wolfi. He was exhausted from the two recent duckings, he was cold and still very wet and most of all, apart from Wolfi, he was alone and scared.
    As he walked he still wondered about the wisdom of returning home. He knew, in spite of Papa keeping it from him, that they were on a list to be deported. He had heard Papa telling Mama the night before their flight. Perhaps the Nazis would be waiting for him?
    â€˜Where else can we go?’ he thought. With no obvious alternative, they continued their journey, only stopping to try and regain their bearings.
    After some time he noted that they