and start to fight back? Do you still believe it would be wrong to meet violence with violence?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Maud. ‘Peaceful resistance is our only hope.’
Walter said: ‘The Social Democratic Party has a paramilitary wing, the Reichsbanner, but it’s weak. A small group of Social Democrats proposed a violent response to the Nazis, but
they were outvoted.’
Maud said: ‘Remember, Lloyd, the Nazis have the police and the army on their side.’
Walter looked at his pocket watch. ‘We must get going.’
Maud said suddenly: ‘Walter, why don’t you cancel?’
He stared at her in surprise. ‘Seven hundred tickets have been sold.’
‘Oh, to blazes with the tickets,’ Maud said. ‘I’m worried about
you.
’
‘Don’t worry. Seats have been carefully allocated, so there should be no troublemakers in the hall.’
Lloyd was not sure that Walter was as confident as he pretended.
Walter went on: ‘Anyway, I cannot let down people who are still willing to come to a democratic political meeting. They are all the hope that remains to us.’
‘You’re right,’ Maud said. She looked at Ethel. ‘Perhaps you and Lloyd should stay home. It’s dangerous, no matter what Walter says; and this isn’t your
country, after all.’
‘Socialism is international,’ Ethel said stoutly. ‘Like your husband, I appreciate your concern, but I’m here to witness German politics first hand, and I’m not
going to miss this.’
‘Well, the children can’t go,’ Maud said.
Erik said: ‘I don’t even want to go.’
Carla looked disappointed but said nothing.
Walter, Maud, Ethel and Lloyd got into Walter’s little car. Lloyd was nervous but excited too. He was getting a perspective on politics superior to anything his friends back home had. And
if there was going to be a fight, he was not afraid.
They drove east, crossing Alexander Platz, into a neighbourhood of poor houses and small shops, some of which had signs in Hebrew letters. The Social Democratic Party was working-class but, like
the British Labour Party, it had a few affluent supporters. Walter von Ulrich was in a small upper-class minority.
The car pulled up outside a marquee that said: ‘People’s Theatre’. A line had already formed outside. Walter crossed the pavement to the door, waving to the waiting crowd, who
cheered. Lloyd and the others followed him inside.
Walter shook hands with a solemn young man of about eighteen. ‘This is Wilhelm Frunze, secretary of the local branch of our party.’ Frunze was one of those boys who looked as if they
had been born middle-aged. He wore a blazer with buttoned pockets that had been fashionable ten years ago.
Frunze showed Walter how the theatre doors could be barred from the inside. ‘When the audience is seated, we will lock up, so that no troublemakers can get in,’ he said.
‘Very good,’ said Walter. ‘Well done.’
Frunze ushered them into the auditorium. Walter went up on stage and greeted some other candidates who were already there. The public began to come in and take their seats. Frunze showed Maud,
Ethel and Lloyd to reserved places in the front row.
Two boys approached. The younger, who looked about fourteen but was taller than Lloyd, greeted Maud with careful good manners and made a little bow. Maud turned to Ethel and said: ‘This is
Werner Franck, the son of my friend Monika.’ Then she said to Werner: ‘Does your father know you’re here?’
‘Yes – he said I should find out about social democracy myself.’
‘He’s broad-minded, for a Nazi.’
Lloyd thought this was a rather tough line to take with a fourteen-year-old, but Werner was a match for her. ‘My father doesn’t really believe in Nazism, but he thinks Hitler is good
for German business.’
Wilhelm Frunze said indignantly: ‘How can it be good for business to throw thousands of people into jail? Apart from the injustice, they can’t work!’
Werner said: ‘I agree with you. And