Page 46 of The Last Safe Place
Then a roar, “Open up, or we’ll break down the door!”
Within a second, Leonore was wide awake, jumping out of bed and throwing on her summer dress. Under no circumstances did she want to be in her nightgown when the police came bursting in. Feverishly, she scanned the room for her purse. Safely stowed inside was her letter of protection, confirming that she worked for the Abwehr and was, in the interests of the Reich, exempt from deportation.
She grabbed the purse with its precious document and walked to the door of her room, opening it a crack to watch what was going on.
“You have to come with us,” a man in SS uniform was ordering the woman.
“Please, no. My mother.”
“Shut up.” He grabbed her roughly by the arm, asking, “Are there any more Jews living here?”
“Y-y-yes. But they’ve already gone to work,” stammered the terrified woman. Usually, at this time of day, Leonore would have been long gone. But today, of all days, she had taken the morning off to run errands for her upcoming emigration. Naturally, she hadn’t told her boss this, but had pretended she was visiting her seriously ill mother.
Her boss was a good man, with sympathy for the hardships his Jewish forced laborers suffered and hadn’t probed further, even though Leonore could tell that he didn’t believe a word.
“Check the rooms!” the SS officer ordered, and his colleagues fanned out. Just as they were approaching Leonore’s room, she tore open the door with a determined jerk and stepped out, holding the Abwehr document at chest height like a shield.
“Who are you?” The SS man raised his weapon in shock, aiming it straight at Leonore’s heart.
Ignoring the crippling fear that gripped her, she said in a firm voice, “My name is Leonore Vogel. I have an official document stating I am carrying out duties critical to the war effort.” Even though her activities as an agent were entirely fictional, she didn’t want to trumpet it out loud in front of her neighbor, since strict secrecy had been impressed upon everyone at the Quenzgut.
“That’s what they all say. Come along.”
“I really do have… please, see for yourself.” Her throat constricted in panic and it took all her strength to hold the letter of protection out to him.
He took the paper, scanned it and shook his head. “You still have to come with me. You can show this later when you’re registered at the detention camp.”
Leonore feared it would be too late by then, but she couldn’t think of anything to say that might change his mind. As the SS officer turned away, she at least had the presence of mind to ask, “May I please have my document back?”
He shrugged his shoulders in boredom, handed her the letter and barked at his colleagues, who returned empty-handed from the other two rooms: “We leave!”
Walking between the men, Leonore stumbled down the stairs and onto the street, where a small group of Jews was already waiting to be transported away. Right next to the inconspicuous gray van, she spotted a public telephone.
This might be her last chance. Quick as lightning, she rummaged in her purse for coins, while turning to the friendliest-looking SS officer. “Excuse me, this is a terrible misunderstanding. May I call my contact person at the Abwehr? He can sort this out. I’m exempt from deportation, because I’m being sent to South America as an agent, on orders from the Führer himself.”
The young man seemed unsure, but when he heard the word Führer, he stood to attention and looked down at Leonore with a slightly friendlier expression.
“Please. There’s a public telephone right there.” She held up the coins between her fingers. “If you accompany me, we can sort it out directly over the telephone.” Leonore chewed nervously at her bottom lip, casting him a pleading gaze.
Finally, he nodded. “Alright. But if you try to escape, I’ll shoot you.”
“I won’t.” Leonore had no doubt he would carry out his threat.
In the telephone booth, her fingers trembled as she dialed the number she had learned by heart, given by Eberhard Lange to every member of Operation Seven.
“Abwehr and Foreign Office,” a female voice answered.
“This is Leonore Vogel. May I please speak to Lieutenant Hesse, it’s extremely urgent.” Leonore’s fingers were gripping the receiver so tightly, her knuckles hurt.
“I’m very sorry. He’s not in the office. Do you want to leave a message?”
Her knees threatened to give way and she had to lean against the wall of the telephone booth to avoid falling over. The SS officer stood in the open door watching her impatiently.
“It’s extremely urgent. It’s about Operation Seven. The SS are here and they’re trying to take me away, despite my letter of protection.”
The secretary understood instantly. “One moment. Let me connect you with Lieutenant Ruben. He’s familiar with the operation.”
With a pounding heart, Leonore took a deep breath before covering the mouthpiece with her hand and telling her guard, “You can talk to Lieutenant Ruben yourself right away.”