this! He looked at Harro sharply. “What do you have to offer?”
“Well, it seems crazy to be running two print operations and two separate distribution networks. We could save ourselves a lot of work and time if we worked more closely together.”
Arvid jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. It was as hot at the pit of hell and what was that stench? Rust? “I hope you’re not suggesting a merger.”
“Not a merger, perhaps, but maybe we could start by combining our creative efforts. I’d be happy to reprint whatever you print…”
“Giving editorial control to us?”
Harro paused before answering. “To Adam Kuckhoff, yes. Printing the same material in two locations would reduce the chances of the Gestapo closing us down. Then maybe you could think about using some or all of our distribution network. I estimate that we send out about twice as many broadsheet leaflets as you do each month.”
Arvid couldn’t argue with Harro’s arithmetic. “I’m happy with our delivery methods, but I would like to send out more product, certainly. What else did you have in mind?”
Harro crossed his arms high on his chest. “I thought you were the one with the proposal.”
Arvid snorted. “You’ve got me here under false pretenses. Is this some sort of trap?”
Harro smiled. “No one’s trying to trap you. I think we can thank our scheming wives for getting us together.”
Arvid exploded. “Your scheming wife, not mine. Mildred said that Libertas made her promise to get me to come to this meeting. Libertas gave her the idea that you had a proposition to discuss.”
Harro held out a hand toward Arvid. “Take it easy, man. Libertas gave me the same story. She said you had a proposal.”
Arvid took a step toward the door. “This whole meeting has been a waste of time.”
“Perhaps not. I’m sure our wives acted in good faith. There is a lot of good sense in cooperation between our networks, don’t you agree?”
“No, I don’t. Your operation is too loose, too indiscreet. In my opinion it’ll be only a matter of time before the whole thing crumbles and we all end up in the hands of the Gestapo.”
Harro put a hand on Arvid’s arm. “Before you go, Arvid, let’s agree on one thing. If I can get this RAD man to join us, I’d be willing to share his intelligence. We can use Greta as go between. She is familiar with both networks and the baby gives her excellent cover.”
“I’m happy dealing through Greta, but you’d have to promise to keep the new man at arm’s length from everyone else in my network.”
“Agreed.”
“What is that smell? Is it rust?”
“I think it’s dried blood. The warehouse was used as a ‘wild camp’ in the early days of the Brownshirts.”
Chapter 15
September 1938
It was time for Max’s third visit of the year to see his mother. He took the Autobus to Lutherstadt Wittenberg.
He might have expected questions about his plans to marry, but his mother’s mind didn’t work like that.
She was bursting to tell him a story about a neighbor, one Frau Magda Dallerbruch whose son, Karl, had followed his father into the Kriegsmarine. Karl had drowned in a training accident. Max had vague memories of a young boy of that name. His mother seemed unaffected by the tragedy, although she had attended the boy’s funeral. Max wondered if he detected a slight trace of Schadenfreude , but dismissed the notion as unlikely. His mother lacked the natural empathy needed to feel another’s pain and the self-knowledge necessary to take pleasure from it.
After that they settled into a stuttering conversation full of non sequiturs, tangents and deviations. Max kept track, making sure they covered everything on his list, and picking up her fragments of important news.
He returned to Berlin drained of emotion.
#
Madam Krauss had a visit from a Wehrmacht officer waiting to be shipped out to Czechoslovakia. Leaving a young family behind
“Well, it seems crazy to be running two print operations and two separate distribution networks. We could save ourselves a lot of work and time if we worked more closely together.”
Arvid jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. It was as hot at the pit of hell and what was that stench? Rust? “I hope you’re not suggesting a merger.”
“Not a merger, perhaps, but maybe we could start by combining our creative efforts. I’d be happy to reprint whatever you print…”
“Giving editorial control to us?”
Harro paused before answering. “To Adam Kuckhoff, yes. Printing the same material in two locations would reduce the chances of the Gestapo closing us down. Then maybe you could think about using some or all of our distribution network. I estimate that we send out about twice as many broadsheet leaflets as you do each month.”
Arvid couldn’t argue with Harro’s arithmetic. “I’m happy with our delivery methods, but I would like to send out more product, certainly. What else did you have in mind?”
Harro crossed his arms high on his chest. “I thought you were the one with the proposal.”
Arvid snorted. “You’ve got me here under false pretenses. Is this some sort of trap?”
Harro smiled. “No one’s trying to trap you. I think we can thank our scheming wives for getting us together.”
Arvid exploded. “Your scheming wife, not mine. Mildred said that Libertas made her promise to get me to come to this meeting. Libertas gave her the idea that you had a proposition to discuss.”
Harro held out a hand toward Arvid. “Take it easy, man. Libertas gave me the same story. She said you had a proposal.”
Arvid took a step toward the door. “This whole meeting has been a waste of time.”
“Perhaps not. I’m sure our wives acted in good faith. There is a lot of good sense in cooperation between our networks, don’t you agree?”
“No, I don’t. Your operation is too loose, too indiscreet. In my opinion it’ll be only a matter of time before the whole thing crumbles and we all end up in the hands of the Gestapo.”
Harro put a hand on Arvid’s arm. “Before you go, Arvid, let’s agree on one thing. If I can get this RAD man to join us, I’d be willing to share his intelligence. We can use Greta as go between. She is familiar with both networks and the baby gives her excellent cover.”
“I’m happy dealing through Greta, but you’d have to promise to keep the new man at arm’s length from everyone else in my network.”
“Agreed.”
“What is that smell? Is it rust?”
“I think it’s dried blood. The warehouse was used as a ‘wild camp’ in the early days of the Brownshirts.”
Chapter 15
September 1938
It was time for Max’s third visit of the year to see his mother. He took the Autobus to Lutherstadt Wittenberg.
He might have expected questions about his plans to marry, but his mother’s mind didn’t work like that.
She was bursting to tell him a story about a neighbor, one Frau Magda Dallerbruch whose son, Karl, had followed his father into the Kriegsmarine. Karl had drowned in a training accident. Max had vague memories of a young boy of that name. His mother seemed unaffected by the tragedy, although she had attended the boy’s funeral. Max wondered if he detected a slight trace of Schadenfreude , but dismissed the notion as unlikely. His mother lacked the natural empathy needed to feel another’s pain and the self-knowledge necessary to take pleasure from it.
After that they settled into a stuttering conversation full of non sequiturs, tangents and deviations. Max kept track, making sure they covered everything on his list, and picking up her fragments of important news.
He returned to Berlin drained of emotion.
#
Madam Krauss had a visit from a Wehrmacht officer waiting to be shipped out to Czechoslovakia. Leaving a young family behind
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