Introduction

A former professor descends into darkness in this provocative story of a Nazi soldier torn between duty and conscience.

East Prussia, Nazi Germany, 1939. History professor Erik Mueller is a model citizen and a family man. He’s also a decorated sergeant in the Gestapo. Proving his courage on the battlefields of Poland and the Soviet Union, and proud of the German army’s victories across Europe, he embraces what he thinks is the righteousness of the Third Reich’s cause.

But his loyalties are soon tested when he crosses paths with his old university friend Trude Bensheim. Forced into unemployment for being Jewish, Trude and her husband start a secret organization to help Jews escape Germany. But when they are betrayed by someone they thought they could trust, their lives hang in the balance.

Erik feels responsible for Trude’s capture, and he knows he’s in a position to help them. But when everything he holds dear is at stake, will he save his friends…or himself?

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Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Königsberg, East Prussia, Nazi Germany

August 1939

Greta giggled as her fingers slid down the razor-sharp blade.

“Careful,” warned her father. “That has a bite to it.”

She ignored him, brows furrowed, concentrating as she traced designs on the mirrored steel.

He grasped the hilt and drew the blade swiftly to her hair, plunging his thumb downward and slicing through a yellow lock.

“Daddy, stop it!” she protested.

He returned the knife to the nightstand, glancing to see if his wife had noticed. She hadn’t. He tucked the lock in his pocket, his eyes never leaving his daughter.

“Erik, get that thing away,” ordered Corina, peering up from her ironing in irritation. “Honestly, I don’t know who’s the bigger child.”

He reached out tenderly and wrapped both hands around Greta’s. She resisted for a moment, laughing again before she let go. His daughter sprang from the bed and out of the room as if the dagger would hunt her, a lace and platinum blur.

“You indulge her too much,” complained Corina. “She won’t behave herself if you let her do whatever she wants.”

“Don’t worry, Corina, soon enough you will have all the time there is to correct her bad habits.”

A cloud blocked the sunshine of their morning. “Did they say how long you’ll be gone?” his wife asked.

He moved behind her and answered her only with his arms, lifting her in the air to twirl around. She batted at his wrought-iron limbs, but he wouldn’t let go. She jerked her whole body and drew herself back to the floor, her glare flickering molten fire.

“I have to finish the ironing, Erik!”

He flinched and released her. She adjusted a scarlet scarf at her neck and smoothed her sweater before resuming her task. She roamed critically over the fabric with her iron. “You didn’t answer.”

“There’s no way to know. It depends on many things. Have you heard from Karl?”

“Not a word. It’s likely too late now. I didn’t expect all this so soon, or I would have called him earlier.”

“There may be time still. Who knows?”

He tried again to swallow the fear resting leaden in his throat. I’ll think of other things. He stood over her, watching her labor. He admired her skill as she pressed out each wrinkle, drawing the scorching metal along the cloth as she traced a razor edge in the creases. Soon she was finished, and she drew the warm fabric over him. He let her dress him. Silence choked the room.

He tucked the shirt into his trousers and tightened his belt. Erik wandered to the aged wardrobe standing guard in their bedroom to remove a gray tunic. After he worked his arms into the material, he buttoned the front. He drew himself up, laboring to look the part. Corina materialized behind him, her fingers tugging and smoothing the fabric until she was satisfied. She placed the cap on his head, making fractional adjustments. “There,” she announced at last.

He examined himself again in the mirror and shook his head. “I look like a fool.”

“You look like a man.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t want this.”

“You needed it—we all did.”

“Maybe we’ll hear from Karl,” he said.

“We still might, but you have to be prepared for the alternative. He’s very busy.”

“Too busy for you?”

“Perhaps even that.”

Greta reappeared and squealed when she saw her father fully dressed. She flew into his arms still giggling. He twirled her around. She weighed no more than a feather. He held her tightly, closing his eyes for a moment, fighting back the tears.

“Where will you go?” Corina asked.

“Wherever they tell me, but to the barracks to start.”

“Will you be able to come back before your first assignment?” She moved past him, lifting the collapsible ironing board and placing it on a nearby hook. She eyed it for a moment and then straightened the board slightly.

“I don’t know,” he answered, pausing a little at the thought. “I hope so. It depends on how rapidly we move.”

Greta was still squirming and laughing, and he tossed her on the bed, willing a smile down at her. She jumped up and demanded that he throw her again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have no more time today for games, even for my little princess.”

“Where you going, Daddy?” she asked, a serious expression crowding her face.

“You already know the answer,” he said sadly. “Remember what we talked about last night? I must go away—but just for a very little while.” He looked at her with mock sternness. “You must obey your mother. She will not put up with your antics as I have.”

“Don’t say that,” snapped Corina. “She already sees me as a tyrant.” His wife shooed Greta off the bed and whisked over to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric.

Greta ran to him again. She held him tightly with her tiny arms. “I don’t want you to go. Why can’t you stay here with us?” She disengaged and picked up the dagger, dropping down on the bed with the weapon on her lap.

Absently he took the knife away. He might never see her again. The idea choked him, and he jerked his head back to study the ceiling. He drew a sharp breath before the words stumbled out. “I don’t have a choice. You must be my brave girl while I’m gone.”

“Don’t worry her so,” said Corina, busying herself with the pillows, turned away from him. She finished and moved close, taking his hands, her gaze softening. “You must be careful. Promise me?” He drew her near, kissing her. Her smell of starch and soap, and an underlying sweetness, intoxicated him. He relished this moment of closeness. She withdrew, staring out the window.

He nodded and steadied himself, his mind assembling hasty barricades to the encroaching grief. He glanced again in the mirror, trying to gather his courage, but the reflection mocked him. What did he know about being a soldier? He’d had a sniff of training. He must stay strong. Karl might still intervene. He raised his hand and fingered the lightning-shaped SS on his collar. He was out of time. He had to go. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

1. Why would a regular German join the Nazi party? Even worse, why join the SS?
2. If your family would all be tortured and killed if you did not follow orders, what would you do when faced with a requirement that you commit an atrocity.
3. In the 1960’s, a psychological experiment showed that 60% of people will administer a lethal dose of electricity, just because they are told to do so by a person in authority. Why is that? Would you be able to resist such a situation?
4. Is there anything especially evil about Nazi Germany, or was it merely a well-publicized example of genocide? Compare Germany to South Sudan, Uganda, Cambodia? How were the Nazis different? What about Stalin and Mao? They killed tens of millions of people. Was Adolf Hitler worse or the same?
5. The world is seeing a rise again of populism and a desire for strong leaders. Adolf Hitler came to power legally, in a democracy. Could a dictator rise in the United States? Germany had a constitution and three branches of government. What makes the US different from Germany? Or is it?

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