The City

The re-erected Luther monument and the ruins of the Frauenkirche, 1958
Bundesarchiv
(Source)

Von Lüttwitz and his cousin Herbert caught the train to Dresden, though it was only 20 kilometers from the family farm, his uncle had said that the trains were more reliable than the buses.

"You could go days without seeing a bus, whereas the trains are running fairly regularly. There's talk of requiring travel papers in the near future, but so far we can come and go as we please." The elder Lüttwitz had explained all this the evening before.

As the train entered the outskirts of Dresden, von Lüttwitz was surprised at the amount of destruction remaining from the war. He turned to his cousin with a quizzical look.

"The State is concentrating their efforts on rebuilding factories, the cleanup is taking longer than expected because of that. But we can talk about that later."

Von Lüttwitz noticed how Herbert kept shifting his eyes around to make sure no one was overhearing them. He decided that he should be a bit more circumspect about the questions he asked.

After they left the train, it was a short walk to the small café which von Lüttwitz had been tasked with visiting. He mentioned nothing of this to Herbert though, he just said he knew of the place and was it still around.

"Yes, they just reopened in January. I'm not sure what happened to the old owner but the place seems much like it was before the war."

After they ordered coffee, the two men sat at a small table all the way in the back.

"There are better tables ..." Herbert had begun, but Jürgen shook his head and nodded towards the rear. Herbert followed without another word.

After they had seated themselves, the man working in the café, turns out it was the proprietor, came to their table and asked if they'd like to see a menu.

"No, thank you. Just coffee. With cream, if you don't mind?" Jürgen said to the man.

Herbert thought it odd that Jürgen would ask the man if it was all right to have cream with his coffee, that seemed like a normal request.

"Cousin, we're in farm country, of course there is cream ..."

Jürgen shook his head and pointed, two policemen had just entered the café. They immediately came to the rear of the café, straight to where the two cousins were sitting.

"Your papers, please." said the older of the two men. Jürgen was shocked, he knew the man, knew him well.

"Klaus-Peter? Is it really you?"

Klaus-Peter Keller, who had been Jürgen's first sergeant during the war, smiled.

"I didn't think you'd recognize me, Herr Major."

"The police uniform doesn't suit you."

"I have a family to feed." Keller chuckled then turned to the other policeman, "Hans, why don't you go down the street and check that Ackermann isn't watering down his schnapps,. I need to talk with this fellow, we were in the army together."

Hans Winkelmann nodded and turned to go. Jürgen raised an eyebrow as if to ask Keller if the man could be trusted.

"He's all of 18 years old. I knew his father in France, 1940. He's a good kid, I got him this job."

"But you're a cop, in the East?"

"The Russians are a pain in the arse, yes, but they're people. Just avoid their stinking commissars and some of the junior officers. Did you bring something for me?"

Herbert Lüttwitz was a bit disconcerted that the two army comrades were ignoring him. Jürgen noticed and said to him, "Herbert, this was my Spieß from when I had my company and on to having my own battalion. I'd trust him with my life."

Keller looked at the younger Lüttwitz, "If you ever need anything Junge, contact me." Then handed him a small printed calling card.

Herbert nodded, "I will. Danke."

Now, Herr Major, I believe you have something for me?"

Von Lüttwitz pulled a pencil and a scrap of paper out of his coat pocket, then scribbled something on the paper. "Call that number, at any time of day or night. Someone will answer and give you another number. Call that number. Whoever answers can help you get what you need and will take any information you might be able to provide. Are you sure you're willing to take this risk, Spieß?"

"How long do I need to do this?"

"As long as you want, if you want out, we can get you over into the West in a week or so, any family included, up to five people."

"It's that easy?"

"It is now. Our informants in Berlin tell us that the Soviets are talking about tightening up the border. Barbed wire, mines, sentries with dogs, everything, getting over the border will get much harder and soon from what we're hearing."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you Sir. I owe you for this."

"No, you don't Hans-Peter, you earned this during the war. Just be careful."

As the two cousins headed back to the train station, Herbert was still flabbergasted at what had happened. "How, what ... I don't know where to begin."

"Best you say nothing, Herbert. That was government business.'

"You're with the government in the West? You work for Bonn?"

"Not exactly, I'm back in the army."

"Really, the army? Are you a Major again?"

"No lad, I got promoted. But don't tell your father, or anyone else for that matter. The fewer who know, the better."

"But why tell me?" Herbert protested.

"We may not have served together, but we wore the same uniform and we share the same blood. How could I not tell you?"

Herbert thought about this moment a lot in the months to come. He understood now why his cousin was such an effective leader. For now he simply looked at his elder cousin and said, "Danke, that means a lot to me, Jürgen."