Page 88 of The German Mother

‘Oh, now,’ said Max, ‘don’t cry, darling. Come on, it’s all right…Ida, can you take over here?’

‘Of course, sir.’

Minki didn’t argue. ‘All right, Max. I’ll go and get ready.’ She kissed her daughter again, stroking her forehead. ‘Goodnight, darling.’

An hour later, the guests arrived and were shown into the drawing room. Minki, now bathed and coiffed, looked stunning in a dark-red bias-cut velvet dress. No one would have guessed the trauma she had just gone through.

When Goebbels and his wife arrived, Minki kissed them both on the cheek. ‘Joseph, Magda, how lovely to see you.’

‘You look wonderful, as always,’ said Joseph.

‘How kind. You must both have some champagne.’ She beckoned Lena, who was holding a tray of filled glasses nearby. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I must circulate, but I know Max is dying to see you…he’s over there in the far corner.’

Minki chatted gaily to everyone – as ever, the perfect hostess. The guests were all associated with either the Party or Max, so no-one showed any particular interest in her. If they knew anything about her, it was as an attractive but inconsequential wife and mother who had once written a column about knitting. In other words, she was a nobody, which suited her.

Dinner was announced, and the guests filed into the dining room. Max and Minki sat at either end of the long table. Goebbels took his seat on her right, with Professor Staemmler on her left.

During dinner, Minki was kept busy organising the staff. Both Goebbels and Staemmler seemed happy to make conversation with the other guests and largely ignored her.

But once the dessert had been cleared away, Goebbels turned his full attention on Staemmler. ‘I’m so glad you were able to come, Professor,’ he began. ‘Your speech at Leipzig a couple of years ago in which you suggested putting an end to the cycle of reproduction between Jews and Aryans, but also the sterilisation of the disabled and mentally infirm, was inspirational to us all.’

Minki’s stomach lurched. Now she remembered how she knew the scientist’s name. Staemmler had been mentioned in an article she had read in theMunich Posta couple of years earlier, warning of the introduction of such measures.

‘Thank you, DrGoebbels,’ Staemmler was saying, ‘Without sterilisation, we will end up with a population dominated by the feeble and infirm.’

‘Quite.’ Goebbels smiled wryly. ‘You know what Adolf calls them?’

The professor shook his head.

‘The undesirables.’ Goebbels laughed.

‘An accurate description,’ agreed Staemmler. ‘There is no point in allowing people with serious genetic diseases to reproduce.’

‘Exactly, which is why we are introducing a new law about genetics in the new year.’

‘I’d heard about that. What have you decided to call it?’

‘The Law for the Prevention of Genetically Diseased Offspring – long-winded but accurate, I think you’ll agree.’

‘Excellent,’ replied the professor. ‘I’m delighted we are finally making progress. But, if I may, I’d like to suggest something more, Herr Reichsminister.’

‘Go on.’

‘My university department estimates there are approximately four hundred thousand people with genetic defects in Germany – a staggering figure, as I’m sure you’ll agree.’

Goebbels nodded. ‘Quite so…’

‘We need to identify these individuals and create a register of them – a special “stock–take”, if you like, of people who are such a drain on society.’

‘That sounds a splendid idea,’ said Goebbels. ‘I’ll bring it up with Adolf when I see him tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll approve. Would you like to run it?’

Staemmler nodded, beaming. ‘I would be honoured, Herr Reichsminister.’

‘No, Professor. The honour belongs to us, and the German people. Your vision and expertise will be invaluable.’

Minki felt sick. Leila’s warning about the Nazis’ policies was beginning to come true. But she ventured to enter the conversation, feigning a neutral interest: ‘How interesting…what sort of genetic diseases are you talking about?’

‘Oh…everything from schizophrenia to epilepsy,’ Staemmler replied casually.