After six weeks, Theobald was discharged from the field hospital. He was perfectly all right in body, but not in mind, feeling bitter about the ending of the war, despite Herman trying everything he could to cheer him up. After an arduous train journey, they finally arrived back in Berlin. As the train finally pulled into the platform, Herman looked out of the window.
"Look, there they are!", he cried out with joy, pointing: Theobald looked where Herman was pointing and managed a smile, despite himself.
Herman was indicating two women who were standing on the platform: one of them was of medium height and stocky, with dark hair; the other was tall and blonde. Herman waved enthusiastically to the dark-haired woman: she smiled back at him. Theobald smiled the broadest smile he had managed for months when he saw the blonde woman, who looked up at him with anxious but relieved eyes.
Disembarking from the train, Herman ran towards Lena Berger: they kissed each other joyfully.
"Thank goodness you're back", breathed Lena. "When I heard those reports of the battle, of how bad it was, I thought you been captured, or . . ."
She could not bring herself to complete the sentence
"Well I turned out fine, didn't I?", smiled Herman.
"You're not sad that we lost?" Lena looked at him quizzically.
Herman shrugged.
"Life goes on", he said. "And anyway, maybe things will be better now. I mean, we're now a democracy, and we've turned our back on the aggression and the militarism that got us into this mess."
"I wouldn't be quite so sure of that", Lena cautioned. "You haven't been here, you haven't seen these new right-wing nationalists on the streets, shouting against us. There's a lot of very angry people in this country, things could turn very nasty."
Herman gave her a smile that was at once affectionate and indulgent.
"There you go again, always worrying, always keeping my feet on the ground. I'm sure these movements won't last long, the people won't want to go back. But, of course, there's a very nice day for us coming up . . ."
A few feet away, Theobald tightly embraced his wife.
"So happy to see you, I feared the worse when I heard you'd been gassed", said Gertrud.
Theobald didn't reply: Gertrud looked at him and saw a bitter expression on his face.
"What's wrong?", she asked him.
"We were betrayed", he growled.
"Betrayed?", said Gertrud. "What do you mean, betrayed?"
"The Army was betrayed", answered Theobald. "We were fighting hard to the end, we might have won, but then these treacherous Weimar politicians seized control and signed that wretched armistice. It's the worst betrayal in the history of mankind."
Gertrud looked rather alarmed at this tirade.
"Maybe it's best not to think about it", she suggested, soothingly stroking his cheeks. "All this politics talk, it makes you worried, let's talk about something else."
Theobald opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it.
It was a bright spring day as the crowds filed into the synagogue, with the usual chatter. Herman was standing at a table, signing a document in which he pledged to provide Lena with food, clothing and marital relations. Theobald and Gertrud stood nearby: Herman had asked the rabbi to give him permission to allow Gentiles to serve as witnesses to the signing. Then Herman moved to stand underneath a canopy. He looked up, and smiled as he saw Lena, her face covered with a veil. Looking somewhat bashful, she walked around him three times. When she had finished doing this, Herman presented her with a fine ring with a bright blue stone: blue was Lena's favourite colour. Herman was then handed a glass, which he crushed underneath his foot. Now they were man and wife, and they kissed to enthusiastic applause from the spectators.
Then Herman and Lena led all the guests into a private room, where the band struck up a merry tune. They played mainly Jewish traditional music, but with a few contemporary tunes thrown in. Herman and Lena danced exuberantly, seeming to traverse the entire dancefloor: the other guests followed suit. When it was time for a rest, the happy couple sat down on some chairs near the dance floor. They were soon joined by a woman who looked very much like Herman, except that she had her hair tied into a bun, and who was wearing a white dress covered in large red roses.
"Hello, Rosa", said Herman, beaming up at his sister. Lena gave Rosa a polite nod.
"Hi there", said Rosa. "I suppose you've been enjoying all those stupid wedding traditions".
"Don't say that", said Lena sharply.
"But I mean, what's the point of that walking round three times thing, or crushing a glass?", persisted Rosa. "It's all superstitious nonsense."
"It's tradition", said Herman, doing his best to remain friendly. "Our Jewish tradition."
"Yeah but I'm not Jewish", insisted Rosa.
"You were born to a Jewish mother", Lena pointed out. "As was Herman. As was I."
Rosa laughed scornfully. "But I don't believe in all that stuff", she said. "I'm a free woman, I won't be bound by superstition."
"It's part of your heritage", said Herman. "Our heritage", indicating himself and Lena.
"Well I reject it", said Rosa. "I will be my own woman, and no rabbi can tell me what to do."
She turned on her heel and waltzed off, before going up to a group of men and asking each of them to dance with her.
"Why did you invite her?", Lena asked.
Herman shrugged. "Well, she's family", he said. "And she can be good for a laugh."
"But she's totally disrespectful of our customs. She thumbs her nose at the community she was born into, which nourished her."
Herman was about to reply, but then out of the corner of his eye he saw someone else.
"Theobald! Please come over here!"
Theobald sat down, accompanied by Gertrud. He had a solemn expression.
"How was your first taste of a Jewish wedding?", asked Herman.
Theobald smiled weakly.
"It's interesting", he said slowly, "all the things that are so different from our . . . I mean, Christian weddings."
"Are you all right?", Lena asked him. "Aren't you enjoying yourself."
"I try to", sighed Theobald.
"Why not?", asked Lena.
"It's the war."
Herman threw his head back and laughed. "Come on, surely you can forget about that now. It's over, done with, let's look forward."
"I can't", said Theobald. "Not with that disgraceful treaty that the government is going to sign."
"Please, Theobald", urged Gertrud, "please don't go on about that, think about something happy instead."
"Don't tell me that", snapped Theobald. "A wife shouldn't tell her husband what to do."
He got up and stormed away, with Gertrud helplessly following.
Herman and Lena looked at each other. Both were thinking the same thing. Why did he have to spoil such a wonderful occasion? Would he ever get over it?
A fortnight later, and Theobald was mingling with a large, angry crowd. He had asked Gertrud if she would like to join him, but she had declined. Several Imperial German flags were proudly flying, and he could see placards with slogans such as "DOWN WITH THE TREATY", "DANZIG IS GERMAN" and "TRAITORS". Theobald gravitated towards the man holding the "TRAITORS" banner: a tall man with spiky brown hair and sharp, suspicious eyes, who was yelling, "Kill the traitors!".
The stranger cast his harsh stare onto Theobald.
"And what's your name?", he said: his tone was not encouraging.
"Theobald Schmidt. I was a soldier in the war". Theobald's tone was defiant.
The stranger seemed to soften slightly on hearing this information.
"So you risked yourself for this country, unlike those Jews", he said.
Theobald looked at him blankly.
"I see you're one of those yet to see the truth", said the other, somewhat patronisingly. "Yes, while you and I were putting our lives in danger for this great country, the great people of this country, the Jews were secretly plotting all along to sabotage us. They're so good at hiding what they do that so many, including you it seems, don't realise what they're up to. But I do: they were the ones who stabbed us in the back last November, and now they've signed this goddamn treaty."
Theobald was unsure how to respond to this, other than:
"So you fought in the war as well?"
"Yes, and I rose up the ranks. Lieutenant Franz Müller I became. Got wounded about 50 times but was never out of action. Then after the great stab in the back, I joined the Freikorps, and smashed the Bolsheviks when they tried to take over Berlin. I'd known but all along but I saw then, for the first time, the evil that the Jews do."
Theobald was impressed by Franz: a man wounded so many times but always on the front line - he felt slightly ashamed at having spent time in the field hospital. This man also shared his belief that Germany had been betrayed: how unlike his friend and his wife. It was quite comforting to know someone like this. And he also seemed to have a clear idea of who was to blame. Though maybe not all Jews . . .
