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Miller H Caldwell, click here
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Progress to Chapter 4
4
There was a spark of shame in Fleur’s eye as she read the labels on her two trunks. They stared back at her making her realise she was past the point of no return. The mantelpiece was bare. Photos of Otto and his father as a small child playing on the beach at Sassnitz on the Baltic Sea reminded her of the happy family she once knew, snapped for a moment in time. A time lost in the current turmoil. Time she could not turn back no matter how much she wanted it to. That was why she convinced herself the right decision had been made.
The Grampian Empress lay impressively in the Vopak Terminal Dock. Fleur arranged for her two trunks to be transported to the ship and she accompanied them to ensure they were not inspected without her presence. She was aware she had developed a suspicious mind over recent weeks. This act reinforced this feeling.
Otto had said goodbye to his mother the night before she embarked and Karl and Renate spent the final afternoon with her. Herr Eicke’s warning was taken seriously and Karl promised to attend the rallies as required to make life bearable, even although it irked him to agree. When they parted each knew their futures were uncertain and so the hugs were prolonged, tearful and loving.
Fleur was escorted to her cabin by a crew member who was quick to pick up a Scottish accent.
‘There are not many Scottish women like you on board you know,’ said Able Seaman Rory Tait.
‘There are not many Scottish women in Germany,’ she replied.
‘Nevertheless there are many women on this trip. I guess families of Jews. They are not welcomed here, are they?’
‘You mean in Germany?’
‘Aye.’
‘They are victims of the State.’
‘I ken. Don’t think it’ll happen tae us.’
‘It won’t. That’s why they are on board.’
‘Aye, suppose so.’
Fleur’s hand luggage was eased through a compartment door leading to a carpeted aisle.
‘Ladies always need their extra boxes of perfume but there will be no ballroom dancing tonight, miss,’ said Tait.
Fleur turned round to see he was looking at her black box. She laughed.
‘That’s not what you think it is. It’s my oboe.’
‘Oh I see. Silly me. But there’s no orchestra on board either,’ he said.
‘I am not travelling to play publically.’
‘If it has any sense, that oboe of your should stay in its case on this voyage,’ he said.
‘Not keen on music are you?’
‘Not keen on rough seas. The barometer is low. It’ll be a rough crossing.’
True to able seaman Tait’s word, even before the Grampian Empress left the embracing harbour, a swell was detected. Nevertheless Fleur wrapped herself in a warm ship’s liveried shawl and made her way to the deck.
Spires and cranes stood erect proud of their past accomplishments. But everywhere were the flags of the moment. The bright red gave warmth and delight but it enveloped the black swastika on a stark white background. Mixed feelings swept through her memory. Germany had been her home since 1910 when as a recent language graduate of Aberdeen she came to Germany and met Willy by chance at a concert. Her honeymoon was recalled with pleasure in Scotland two years later. Then the fateful visit if Vera Caldwell her cousin in 1914 and the trials and strains of getting her home after the first guns had been sounded in that devastating war. Perhaps she might visit Vera this time.
Then the ship’s horn sounded and beneath where she stood, the thick rope harnesses were flung into the water and hauled on board. The Grampian Empress was at last free.
In the dying light of autumn, the golden trees of Hamburg waved her goodbye. She responded to the city which had brought her happiness, love, culture and family.
‘Till the next time Hamburg. I will return God Willing. Deus Volente, I will return.’
Fleur made her way unsteadily towards her cabin as the ship lurched towards the open sea. As she passed cabin 227 she stopped. She listened. She made a note of the cabin’s number.
After a meal in the restaurant which she ate all alone and noticed a dearth of single women aboard, she returned to her cabin and opened her black box. She dampened the double reed then left her room. Her steps unsteadily retraced her previous sortie until she was at cabin 227. A family chattering in German could be heard from the room. She knocked. Her knock silenced those internal voices. Fleur waited for the door to open. She knocked again. This time the door opened slightly. Fleur greeted her fellow passengers in German.
‘Good evening. I hope you don’t mind me calling,’ she said.
‘What have you there?’ she was asked.
‘It’s my oboe. I brought it to your door because I thought I heard music coming from this cabin earlier.’
‘You are German?’
‘Yes, I speak German but I am also Scottish. I am returning home.’
The door opened wider. Three children sat on the bed. Their mother was behind the door gripping a shawl.
‘You are safe here. I mean you no harm,’ said Fleur.
There was a pause. The father was deciding whether he could trust this unannounced visitor. At the same time this was someone who knew the land he was heading towards. Fleur made a gesture with her oboe. It made up his mind. The door was opened and he ushered her in.
‘I am Fleur Richter. My husband was a Hamburg doctor but he died. I am returning to Scotland, my parents are there.’
‘My name is Jiri Amachai, my wife Arella, my son Devri and daughters Anat and Arella.’
‘You are right to leave Germany at this time,’ said Fleur.
‘We had no choice. We left Vienna on the day of the Anschluss.’
‘12the March,’ said Fleur.
‘You remember it well. I am surprised,’ said Jiri.
‘I can never forget the date. It was the date of my husband’s funeral.’
Jiri emitted a quiet gasp and Arella looked sad for Fleur.
‘I am sorry about your loss,’ Jiri said.
‘I am sorry for the treatment of your people,’ said Fleur.
Jiri nodded his head. ‘These are difficult times.’
‘But we can make some days happier. Who was playing the clarinet?’
Kivi raised her hand.
‘Kivi was a pupil of the Mozarteum in Salzburg. It was her final year,’ said Jiri.
‘Perhaps we can play together Kivi?’ asked Fleur.
Kivi’s eyes shone brightly and a smile as wide as the Volga brought her clarinet to her lips.
‘Perhaps Bist du Bei Mir?’ asked Kivi.
‘Johann Sebastian Bach?
‘Yes.’
Then followed a performance of perfection. The oboe an octave higher played in harmony with a gifted clarinettist. When they finished, a round of applause was received.
‘We’ve not applauded for several months. That might have drawn attention to us,’ said Arella.
‘It must be a great relief to have left the German shore,’ said Fleur.
‘Yes but ‘Be With Me’ as Bach composed, surely gives hope for a brighter day in Germany?’ said Arella.
‘But it may be without any Jews,’ said Jiri.
Kivi brought to her impromptu music stand, her brother Devri, another piece of music. It was unfamiliar to Fleur.
‘Zemir Atik is one of my favourite Yiddish songs. I learned this tune when I was young. I play it when I am happy because it’s a dance tune. I have not played it since I had to leave the music school. Can you play it too?’
‘I’ll try,’ said an adventurous Fleur.
Fleur soon got the rhythm and the family clapped in unison. As she looked around the cabin at their smiling faces, she saw a family tension dissipate after months of anxiety.
The swell of the seas made fleur and Kivi unsteady on their feet and so the impromptu concert came to a sudden end amid laughter.
‘And what are your plans when you arrive, may I ask?’
‘We will get a train to Manchester where we have relatives. We will stay with them a while before crossing the Atlantic to America.’
‘What a grand venture!’ said Fleur.
‘It is our fate. We are a people constantly on the move,’ said Arella.
‘And do any of you speak English?’
‘I do’ said Kivi. ‘So does my father but not the rest of the family, yet.’
‘The voyage is not long enough for me to give classes in English,’ apologised Fleur.
‘We will make do. We adapt easily’ said Jiri.
‘Well if I can find my feet I think I should now return to my cabin and get ready for bed. Perhaps sleep is the best way to deal with a rough sea. Shall we have breakfast together tomorrow morning?’
‘Yes please,’ said Kivi and Devri and Anat nodded in agreement.
‘It would be our pleasure Frau Richter,’ said Jiri.
Fleur made it back to her cabin, holding on to the sides of the aisle. It was now dark and so she had no intention of seeing any coastal light for the last time. Instead she noticed a walnut cased radio by her bedside. She turned it on to hear Henry Hall play some popular dance music. To his music she prepared for bed. She climbed into the fresh white sheets and lay her head on the marshmallow pillow and let her dreams be wafted to a warm clime by the exotic and comforting dance hall music.
The music stopped abruptly for a special announcement. Fleur was alerted by the sudden change of atmosphere coming from the radio. A solemn announcement followed. She sat up in bed.
‘This is the BBC Home Service. The Prime Minister Mr. Neville Chamberlain has landed at Heston Aerodrome this evening, 30th September, after his meeting with the German Chancellor, Herr Adolph Hitler. The Prime Minister is preparing to address the crowds there. We go over now to hear what he had to say.’
‘The settlement of the Czechoslovakian problem, which has now been achieved, is, in my view, only the prelude to a larger settlement in which all Europe may find peace. This morning I had another talk with the German Chancellor, Herr Hitler, and here is the paper which bears his name upon it as well as mine. Some of you, perhaps, have already heard what it contains but I would just like to read it to you: ... We regard the agreement signed last night and the Anglo-German Naval Agreement as symbolic of the desire of our two peoples never to go to war with one another again.'
‘The recording was made two hours previously and now we go to the steps of 10 Downing Street where Mr. Chamberlain has a formal statement to give to the nation,’ said the BBC Announcer.
‘My good friends, for the second time in our history, a British Prime Minister has returned from Germany bringing peace with honour. I believe it is peace for our time. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Go home and get a nice quiet sleep.’
And in a timely response from President Franklin Roosevelt upon hearing of the Munich Settlement and the avoidance of a new world war, the nation heard read his two word telegram to the Prime Minister: Good man.
Fleur gave a large sigh of relief. There would be no war. It was looking like a shorter visit home after all. Sleep had never felt so rewarding even although there were moments when she felt queasy. She made sure she had access to a cardboard basin.
The following morning after dressing, Fleur went outside on deck. She breathed fresh clean air but there was no land in sight. Instead mesmerising waves with white flecks danced before her eyes. Seabirds perched on the taught wires from mast to bridge. She felt good to be alive on the dawn of a new understanding between nations. A new start, a new month, a new anticipation.
Able seaman Tait passed by. He stubbed out his cigarette on his heel before launching it into the North Sea.
‘Good morning Ma’am. Heard the news?’ he asked.
‘Yes, wonderful. I heard Mr. Chamberlain on the radio last night. It looks so promising. No war after all,’ replied Fleur beaming with the air blowing her black locks behind her.
‘That was yesterday’s news, Ma’am. You have not heard? Today Germany invaded Sudetenland.’
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The Solo Oboe chapter 4
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It is very well written and researched, based on the ethnic and language differences involved. I did detect a few minor errors that could be repaired by further editing.
The only thing I would change would be that I would add that at least one of the Jewish family would be seasick in the rough seas. And the phrase, “a smile as wide as the Volga,” seems to be out of place since the Volga is in Russia and not in Austria. Is the family from Russia, originally?
Ron