I’m welcoming Fables & Lies: A World War II Novel Based on a True Story by Elizabeth Storrs to the blog #FablesAndLies
Excerpt 4:
Chapter Eighteen
Klosterheide, December 1939
Freyja climbed the stairs behind the matron, peering into rooms where wintry sunlight poured through arched windows. Chubby toddlers and preschoolers sat on miniature railed wooden chairs at a bench. They ate from steel bowls, guarded by Brown Sisters pouring milk from pitchers into beakers.
Freyja inhaled the aroma of freshly baked bread, amazed to see steamed vegetables and jacket potatoes heaped on the platters. The abundance was startling. Berliners struggled to find fresh produce with the British blockade squeezing supply lines.
‘For all this, we must thank the Führer,’ said the matron. ‘And Reichsführer Himmler believes in the best nutrition for these children.’
‘Tante!’ Siggi waved from the far side of the room then ran towards her. Clipping a chair leg, he fell heavily. Blood spurted from his nose. Before she could reach him, a nurse yanked him to his feet, barking at him to stop whining.
Matrone Hildegarde gripped Freyja’s wrist with blunt fingers. ‘Leave him. We’re making soldiers here, not encouraging cry-babies.’
She tried to break from her, but the woman held firm and growled an order to take the child to the infirmary. Dismayed, Freyja watched her sobbing nephew dragged away.
Hildegarde glowered. ‘Siegfried has been coddled by his mother. Frankly, Hauptsturmführer von Erlbach and his wife should adopt him. Or he should be given to another deserving SS couple. It’s highly unusual to let a Lebensborn mother raise a child.’ She headed for another flight of stairs.
Freyja hesitated, unsure whether to search for Siggi but doubted she’d find him in the maze of corridors. She hurried up the stairs behind the retreating figure of the matron. She was sickened by the threat to Volla. Her sister’s greatest fear was Otto giving her sons to his wife. Freyja prayed von Erlbach would never betray her.
The air reeked of ether and ammonia on the next floor. Freyja saw a tiled operating theatre. The delivery bed looked forbidding, with a huge arc lamp suspended over it. A portable stand with two empty drips stood nearby. Poor Volla. Instead of giving birth with Mutti to assist her, she’d been tended by cold-hearted fanatics.
The mewling of a baby drew her attention to a nursery next door. Brown Sisters moved between dozens of cribs with lace valances and flowered blankets. Babies in identical knitted caps lay in each. Blue or pink name tags were attached to the infants’ wrists, illustrated with either a boy or girl baby holding the trident-shaped Lebensrune symbol.
Freyja stood aghast at the production line. ‘How many babies are here?’
‘There are one hundred beds available in this clinic,’ said the matron. ‘Modest compared to Home Steinhoring in Munich. Nine homes have been established across Germany and more are planned. Any valuable Aryan girl who finds herself in trouble to a good German soldier can be admitted to a Lebensborn home. Of course, a high racial standard is required. Every mother of good blood must be holy.’
A Brown Sister approached, carrying a baby. The infant was shrieking, tonsils and tongue ululating. ‘It’s time for him to be fed, Matrone.’
Hildegarde claimed the child. ‘I’ll drop him off.’
‘Where’s his mother?’ asked Freyja, aware she’d seen no women other than Brown Sisters.
‘In the maternity ward. It’s best to keep maternal contact to a minimum given the children will be adopted.’
Freyja imagined the girls’ distress. ‘It must be hard for them to give up their babies.’
The matron frowned. ‘Individual needs must be subordinated to the State, Fräulein. These women are doing their duty for the Vaterland. Reichsführer Himmler says eliminating abortions and saving unborn boys will lead to more than two hundred regiments of soldiers in twenty years’ time. Add girls, and in two decades we could have half a million additional decent Germans. We must outnumber the offspring of those vile Jewish refugees who’ve floo...
