After twenty minutes he said, “You will leave tomorrow morning and taken to the port of Lubek. From there you will sail to the U.S. to start new lives.”
The audience gasped as Max translated and then the General gave them a stark warning,
“Until you land on U.S soil, you are persona non-grata. We want you to help us, but we do not need you, so if have any thoughts about being invaluable…don’t. You’re all expendable.”
The audience became confused, frightened, and sceptical, but they sat and listened whilst Max translated.
While Stefan kept his arm around his wife and son to comfort them, he looked around the room and saw a few of his colleagues. Amongst them were Weirner Von Braun and Wilheim Jungert, both rocket scientists who had worked on the V2 rocket programme alongside him.
General Brownlow ordered the officers to take care of the details before he stormed out of the room.
Lieutenant Sykes, came over to the family, smiled, and said, “I am your liaison officer and assigned to handle your paperwork. Please follow me.”
Sykes accompanied the Schuler’s through the various departments. An American army doctor examined the baby, but after finding no sign of asthma, he told them that their infant was a normal, healthy baby. This made Martina and Stefan angry although they said nothing to the American doctor or Sykes.
They spoke to each other in German, “These Americans neither know nor care about the German people. Our son has asthma and they know it,” said Martina as she smiled at the doctor.
They knew that they had no other option but to accept the fact they were now of a second-class, hated race.
Other families and single men kept arriving at different times throughout the day.
The men issued old black suits, with grey skirts and white blouses for the women. Shorts, blazers, and blouses for the children.
After being ushered through different departments throughout the day, by mid-afternoon, Lieutenant Sykes, Martina, and Stefan now sat in an office around a small desk.
Sykes took a folder from his leather case with ‘Joseph & Jane Wolffe’ written on the front. Sykes decided Stefan knew enough English that he did not need a translator. He opened the folder containing papers and documents relating to the couple, telling them, “You will no longer be known as Martina and Stefan Schuler.” He slid papers and documents to the couple and said, “You are now Joseph and Jane Wolffe.”
The Schuler’s looked at their new identity papers. Sykes was about to explain a little about what work Joseph would do in the USA and where they would live; when he looked at the baby.
“Goddamn!” he exclaimed, then read the folder again, and noticed something amiss. He looked at the couple and smiled. “There is nothing in mentioned in here about the baby,” he said, feeling stupid over how he could have overlooked this.
Sykes sighed and thought for a moment. He knew with all the turmoil in Germany, paperwork was the last thing on any Germans mind, but the U.S. government had made exceptions for anyone under Operation Paperclip.
“That won’t be too much of a problem.” he said, “I’ll just make him a U.S birth certificate.”
Sykes left the office and returned a few minutes later with a blank document. He sat and with his pen in hand asked,
“Okay, “What do you call him?”
The couple had not considered the baby’s name with all the chaos going on around them. They looked at each other, then at Sykes.
Stefan shrugged and said, “We haven’t yet chosen a name”
After an awkward silence as the three smiled at one another, Stefan broke the silence and asked, “What is your first name, Lieutenant Sykes?”
Lieutenant Sykes, looking confused, said, “George… George Sykes.”
Stefan looked at his wife, who nodded.
“George it is then,” Stefan said and continued, “George Wolffe.”
Lieutenant George Sykes smiled as he wrote the name George Wolffe in the relevant boxes.
Stefan and Martina told him George’s date of birth and as they were due to settle in Pennsylvania once in America, he wrote Newtown as the place of birth. After filling in the form, he left the room and went to another office for it to be typed and authorised.
He returned to the room and told them about Stefan’s new job and their new home until a woman arrived with a typed and stamped U.S. birth certificate.
“That is all we need to do here.” Said Sykes and looking at his watch told them, “I will take you to your sleeping quarters. You need to get some rest, it will be a long day, and you have an early start,” said Sykes.
He stood up and shook Stefan’s hand, smiled at Martina and said, “Please remember professor, from this point on, you are Joseph and Jane Wolffe.” He tickled the sleeping baby’s chin, and added, “And let’s not forget, baby George Wolffe.” He smiled and told them, “Take good care of yourselves and good luck in the U.S.A.”
* * *
George Sykes felt bored. He’d had a tiring day escorting and interviewing people, although he felt good about the new Wolffe family.
‘A little highlight, to make a shitty job and a monotonous day worthwhile,’ he thought while driving his Willy Jeep around the rubble of Berlin’s pot-holed roads. Several streetlights powered by emergency generators illuminated the road. Sykes felt lonely and homesick but did not want to return to the barracks yet, so he stopped at a small café near the Berlin hospital. Seeing lights piercing through the boarded-up building, he thought. ‘I’ll grab a coffee real quick.’ He turned off the engine and went inside the small café.
People were sitting down chatting and drinking. The talking ceased when George entered and an uneasy silence fell upon the café as Sykes walked to a small empty table and took a seat. He appeared to be the focus of attention as the customers glared at him. He tried to catch the waitress’s attention, who he noticed was a little overweight with harsh features.
‘A veritable pig in knickers,’ thought George and chuckled.
Determined to get a cup of coffee, he raised his hand and shouted, “Coffee over here, please.”
The German customers looked on in disgust at this brash Yank. Sykes noticed that most of the customers wore either doctor’s white coats or nurse’s uniforms. Deciding that he’d had enough of rude Germans after his run-in earlier at the hospital with the pushy, but beautiful nurse, and realising a coffee would not be forthcoming, he sighed. He went ignored as the chatter in the café resumed.
‘If my coffee ever arrived, it would taste like bilge water, and one of the Krauts would probably have spat in it,’ thought George, ‘I might as well go back to his barracks to grab a cup of coffee there.’ He got off the chair and walked towards the door.
“Hello Lieutenant,” said a voice behind him.
He swung around to face the nurse from earlier.
“You aren’t leaving already?” she asked and smiled.
“Hello nurse erm …?” said George, embarrassed.
“Steffi,” she said and pointed to a table in the corner where a balding strange-looking doctor sat. “Please, come join us, lieutenant,” she said.
“Please… Call me George, and no, but thanks. I will call it a night and get a coffee at the barracks,” he said, thinking how amazing this woman looked and smelled as he told her. “Besides, the service here isn’t too great.” He looked over at the waitress leant on the counter.
Steffi barked an order at ‘the veritable pig in knickers’ who rushed behind the counter.
“Your