My German Lover, Part 27 chapter 5

And of course, I was the lucky one! But I didn’t care. I don’t need to drink alcohol to have fun. But when I’m not the designated driver… sure, I like to have a drink… or two… or… Well, I’m just like you guys!

Anyway, that night we had lots of fun.

The day after, I gave my uncle a call. He lives in Lyon, and was happy to hear from me. I told him we would pay him a visit later. And we did.

Mike showed me around, showing me the schools where he had studied… the places where he used to hang out… everything.

I didn’t see the time fly and before we knew it, it was Monday morning and we had to go back to Paris.

That morning, we all had breakfast together and before Mike’s dad left for work, he hugged us and said :

« I love you guys. I hope you’ll come back soon. Don’t keep me waiting too long huh? »

Later, we said our goodbyes to Loulou and to Gisèle. We all had tears in our eyes. We hugged a lot… 

« You take good care, huh? », Gisèle said to us… « I love you. Both of you. Come back soon, you hear? »

« Maybe you could all come to visit us in Martinique… You could stay at my house… », I suggested…

« I’m afraid the airline tickets are too expensive for us. You know how it is… », Mike’s mum said…

« Yeah well, I want you to know that our house is there for you, should you change your mind… », I replied.

« Thanks for the offer. »

We hugged for the last time, then we left.

It had been a great weekend, and I knew Mike was happy.

« So… are you glad we accepted Paul’s offer to come to Europe? » I asked him…

« Yeah. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen my family. It’s all thanks to Paul. », he answered, smiling…

« I had one of the best weekend of my life. Your parents are great, Mike. And so is Loulou… I’m so glad we came down to Lyon… »

« You liked them? »

« Shit! They are great. I swear. I love them. They made me feel right at home », I answered smiling, looking at Mike straight in the eyes…

« Yeah. They are great. I love them. »

When we got back to Paris, we went back to Le Meurice Hotel and once there, Mike asked me :

« So… What’s next? »

« Well… Tomorrow, let’s take it easy. Let’s take the day off. Then Wednesday we could take the train to Berlin. What do you say? »

« Fine with me! »

« Anyway… Everything is always fine with you… », I answered, laughing… « I think I never heard you complain… I’m telling you dude, I’m gonna have to marry you! You’re perfect! », I answered, laughing…

« Let’s go to Notre Dame Cathedral and ask a priest over there to marry us… », he answered, laughing too…

« If only we could find one that would agree to do that… You bet I would marry you! »

Wednesday morning, we were sitting on a train to Berlin.

« A private compartment huh? We struck rich huh? », Mike said, grinning…

« Hey… Paul’s paying. Not me. And he insisted we took a private compartment… He said it’s the only way to travel by train… »

« Yeah well he’s rich. I’m not… I’m not use to that… », Mike answered.

« Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. And we’re not paying, so what the heck? »

« I’ll never forget what Paul is doing for us. He’s a great guy, you know. With a heart as big as his mansion… »

« I know Mike. I know. I appreciate every minute of our vacation, and it’s all thanks to him. We’ll have to tell him that. »

« Ohhhh don’t worry. We will… »

When later, we got off the train, I looked at Mike with a big smile on my face and said :

« Willkommen bei Berlin, mein busenfreund… »

« What? »

« Never mind. Welcome! Welcome to Berlin… »

« Oh. Yeah. Um… don’t leave me alone here, huh? I’m totally lost! », Mike answered…

« Don’t worry. I know where we are. Here. Let’s take a cab… »

« To where? »

« To the Adlon Hotel on the famous Pariser Platz…. It’s the best hotel in Berlin. Paul wants us to stay there while we’re here… »

« Okay then. To the Adlon… »

As we got there, Mike looked up at the hotel and said :

« Shit! That’s not the Y.M.C.A. (…) Oh boy… It’s gonna cost Paul a lot of money… a lot! »

I laughed and looked up at the hotel…

« Yeah. I guess you’re right. And look to your right… That’s the Brandenburg Gate… »

« WOW. It’s beautiful. Beautiful… really. »

« Yeah. It is. I’ll tell you all about that later. But first, let’s go to our room… »

« Good idea. »

As we got off the cab, a very well dressed doorman came to us with two young porters in tow. He looked at us, then looked at our luggage. As they looked very expensive the doorman smiled, look back at us and said :

« Willkommen, Ehrenmänner… »

« Danke schön. Danke. »… I answered, smiling…

Suddenly, I remembered what Paul had said to me about the doorman… and a gave him a big tip…

The doorman looked at the tip and grinned. Then he looked at me and said :

« Vous venez de Paris? » (You’re from Paris? )

I was stunned. I looked at him and said :

« How did you know? »

« A doorman knows everything. But it was easy this time. Look at the small tag on your luggage… »

« Oh… », I answered, smiling… « Yes, we are from Paris. »

« Je vous souhaite un bon séjour à Berlin messieurs… » ( I hope you will have a nice stay in Berlin, gentlemen…)

« Votre Français est excellent mon ami… » I answered… (Your French is excellent, my friend…)

« Merci. Si je puis vous être utile, n’hésitez pas…» (Thank you. If I can be of any help to you, do not hesitate…)

« Danke », I answered.

As we were entering the lobby Mike turned to look at me with a big smile on his face and said :

« See. I don’t have to speak German. Everybody here speak French… »

« Yeah. Sure. », I answered, laughing… « We’ll see about that later… but you’re in for a shock my friend… »

Later, we went to our room to unpack. We took a quick shower (no, we didn’t fool around in the shower…), got dress and went down to the dining room. We were starving. But before we got to the dining room we made a stop to the « Boutique », where I bought a map of Berlin…

« Shit! » I told Mike, while we were sitting at our table in the dining room, enjoying our aperitif…

« What? »

« We have a problem here. When Paul told me their story… and when he told me about Berlin, he used the street names that were in use at the time… »

« Yeah. So? »

« Well… when I look at the map here… I can’t find those street names… »

« Huh? What do you mean… »

« Look. He told me about the « Charlottenburger Chaussee ». It doesn’t exist anymore. He told me about the « Adolf-Hitler-Platz ». Of course, it doesn’t exist anymore either. Nor does the « Herman-Göring Strasse ». Look at my notes… most of the street names he gave me do not exist anymore. He told me about the Neue Reichskanzlei… about the Reichsluftfahrtministerium… about the Kaiser-Franz-Joseph-Platz. None of them are listed here, on my map. How the hell are we going to find the places where I want to film? »

« Don’t look at me. I don’t even understand the names you’ve said… Shit! I don’t even understand the menu I have here in front of me… »

I raised my eyes from the map to look at Mike and burst out laughing :

« … Oh? It’s not in French? »

« Go to hell… », he answered, laughing…

« …I know what I’ll do. I’ll ask the doorman. Paul told me doormen always know everything there is to know… »

« Good for you. Now, can you translate for me what they have here on that goddamn menu? »

« …Oh but you speak French. You don’t need my help. Just order what you want in French… », I answered, laughing…

« You’ll pay for that… »

When the waiter came to take our orders, Mike looked at him and said :

« …Je ne vois pas de filet mignon sur votre menu. Puis-je en avoir? » (I don’t see « filet mignon » on your menu. Can I have some?)

« …Mais bien sûr monsieur. Quelle cuisson? » (But of course, Sir. How would you like it? »

Mike looked at me with a big smile on his face…

« Saignant… » he answered. (Rare…)

« Mais bien sûr monsieur… très bon choix… » (But of course Sir… very good choice…)

I was so mad at him! Ohhhhh was I mad. He had his victory over me… but I knew it wouldn’t last! Of course, we were in a dining room. The dining room of the best hotel in all of Berlin. I wasn’t surprised to see all the personnel, all the waiters here were speaking French. It’s always like that in expensive restaurants around the world. In Rome, London, New York… Hell, even in Washington people were speaking French in a very expensive restaurant where my dad had taken us to once. So I wasn’t surprized to see that here, in Berlin, Mike was able to order in French. But I knew that once « on the street », things would be very different. So I didn’t say a word… and let him savour his victory. As I said, I knew it wouldn’t last and that I would make him pay dearly later…

But I must say the meal was excellent. Very expensive, but excellent.

As we were walking out of the dining room, I looked for our doorman and spotted him.

« Do you mind if I talk to him for a minute? », I asked Mike…

« No. Not at all… »

I walked over to the doorman, and told him about my problem concerning the street names. Of course, I had to explained first why we were here, in Berlin…

« Are you going back to your room right away? » he asked…

« …Not yet. We were planning on having a nightcap at the bar… »

« Yes. Well, I’ll send you one of our young employee. I think he can help you with your problem. His name is Heinrich. But don’t worry… He will find you at the bar… »

« My pleasure… »

Mike and I went to the bar and ordered Cognac. And as we were enjoying our drink a young guy about our age came to us…

« Monsieur de Brion? », he asked…

« Yes. It’s me… »

« Ah. I’m Heinrich…. »

« Oh yes… Please, sit down. Would you like to have a drink? »

« No. Thanks. I’m on duty… »

« Of course », I answered, smiling…

Then I went on to explain my problem and I explained to him why Mike and I were here in Berlin…

« I see… », he finally said. Indeed, you have a problem. After the war, many street names were changed. And I’m sorry to say that I can’t help you with that since I wasn’t even born at the time. All I know is that the Herman-Goring Strasse was renamed « Ebert Strasse » and that the Reichsministerium Luftwaffe building (Luftwaffe Headquarters) is now occupied by the Bundesministerium Der Finanzen (Finance Ministry)…

Hearing those names, I turned across to look at Mike… who was rolling his eyes in despair. I grinned.

« That’s all I know », Heinrich continued to say. « (…) But I think I know someone who might be able to help you… »

« Oh? »

« Yes. My grandfather. He was born in Berlin before the war… and during the war, he was in the Wehrmacht. He was stationed in Belgium… and so he speaks French… »

Hearing that Heinrich’s grandfather could speak French, again, I looked at Mike to see his reaction. Fortunately, as we were talking in German, Mike had not understood a word of what Heinrich had said… « Thank God », I said to myself, otherwise he would be beaming again! 

I looked back at Heinrich and asked him :

« Do you think your grandfather would agree to meet with us… Could we invite him for lunch here, tomorrow… He would be our guest, of course…

« …I can ask him. I could call him right now and ask him. Look, wait for me… I’ll give him a call… »

« Thanks dude. We appreciate… »

A few minutes later, Heinrich was back. He looked at me and said :

« He will meet you in the lobby at ten, tomorrow morning. But I must tell you that he’s a bit suspicious… He wants to make sure the two of you are not neo-nazis… I told him you were not. But you must understand that my family suffered a lot during the war. We all hate the Nazis… »

« Hey. Don’t worry. Do we look like neo-nazis to you? I told you why we are here… It has nothing to do with that… »

« That’s what I told my grandfather. Anyway, he’ll be here at ten, tomorrow morning. So I guess he’ll see for himself that you’re not neo-nazis…»

« Fine with me. Thanks… »

And as I was about to give him a tip, Heinrich looked at me and said :

« No. Thanks dude. Give it to my grandfather instead. We’re from East-Berlin… My grandfather isn’t rich, far from it. If you want to give something… give it to him. Not to me… »

« Count on me Heinrich! » I answered, before we shook hands… 

The morning after, Mike and I were waiting in the lobby and at ten, not at a quater to ten… not at ten past five… at ten, Heinrich’s grandfather came in, and Heinrich showed him to us.

« … This is my grandfather, Herr Reinhardt Schwarzmann… », Heinrich said, introducing his grandfather to me…

« Gutten Morgen, mein Herr. Ich bin Jack Poitras. Ich bin Französish und Kanadier… »

« Gutten Morgen… Frankokanadier, huh? », he asked…

« …Aber ja… », I answered, smiling…

Then I introduce Mike to Herr Schwarzamann…

«Heureux de vous rencontrer, Monsieur… » (Nice to meet you, Sir…), Mike answered, shaking hands with the old man…

« Vous êtes Français également? Êtes-vous également Canadien-français? » (You are also French? Are you also French-canadian? » the old man asked Mike…

« Non. Je suis uniquement Français… » (No. I’m French…)

Mike was beaming. He turned to look at me and said :

« Tu vois… il parle également Français… » (You see… He speaks French…)

« Yeah, yeah… Heinrich told me last night… »

« Ohhhh so you knew, and you didn’t tell me huh? », Mike said, laughing…

« Well… you were there with us when Heinrich said so… », I answered…

« Yeah maybe… but you were talking in German… »

« You don’t say… », I answered, laughing… « And you didn’t understand? »

« Go to… »

« Yes. I know… », I answered, grinning…

I turned to look at Herr Schwarzmann and said :

« May we invite you for lunch, mein Herr… »

« But of course. Thank you… »

« Will you join us? », I asked Heinrich…

« No. Thank you… Again, I’m on duty… »

« Sure. Thanks a lot Heinrich. And don’t worry : Your grandfather is in good hands with us… »

« Yes. I know… », Heinrich answered, with a nice smile on his face.

So we went to the dining room, and had a very good lunch. While we were having lunch, I explained to Herr Schwarzmann why Mike and I were in Berlin. I told him about Will, Lutz and Ludwig… and told him that in 1945, they had moved to Martinique. In fact, I explained everything to him. He listened… and asked a few questions. We were talking in French, so Mike could understand what we were saying.

Herr Schwarzmann’s French was very good, and I told him so. He told me he had learned French during the war… »

« …Yes. I know. », I said… «Last night, Heinrich told me that during the war, you were stationed in Belgium… »

« Yes. »

Then, he went on to explain what had happened to him after the war… and told us the story of his life up until now. Let’s just say his life had not been an easy one.

Then he said :

« So. I understand you have a problem… »

« Yes… »

I showed him my map and explained the nature of my problem…

« I see. Yes… many streets have changed names after the war. How long are you two planning on staying in Berlin? »

« A few days… »

«Do you have a car? »

« No. But we can rent one. No problem… »

« Okay. Rent a car… and I’ll go with you. I’ll show you the places you want to see. Some of them do not exist anymore, but I’ll show you where they used to be… »

« Would you do that? », I asked, beaming…

« Yes. It will be my pleasure young man… »

« Thank you very much mein Herr… », I said… « When do you want to start our visit? »

« As soon as you have a car. »

« Like… in half an hour? »

« Sure! »

I left Mike with our old friend and went to the lobby. I was told where to go in the hotel to rent a car… and minutes later, I was back into the dining room with the keys!

« …Ready to go? », I asked Mike and the old man…

« Yes! », they both answered…

« Where do you want to go first? »

I went on to explain to Herr Schwarzmann that the first time Paul had come to Berlin, his plane had landed at Templehof Airport. So I wanted to go there, and start filming from there…

« You are lucky my friend. Templehof still exists… and it has not changed since the war. »

So we drove to the Templehof airport. Once there, we parked the car and waked to the terminal building…

« You see… nowadays Templehof is called the « City Airport »… since it mostly has commuter flights to other parts of Germany and neighboring countries. It’s runways are too small to receive long-haul airliners such as Boeing 747… But before the war, it was the largest and the biggest airport in the world… », our old friend explained.

As we were standing in front of the terminal building, I looked at it for a while with its façades of shell limestone. Then I looked up at the roof of the building and saw a pedestal…

Our old friend looked at me and explained :

« … That’s where a large Nazi eagle once stood… It was removed after the war… »

I nodded, and we all went inside. There, I must say that Mike and I were stunned as we found ourselves in a dazzingly simple and luminous reception Hall. The place was uge!

« …Yes », our old friend said… « It was built by Hitler… and Hitler had big ideas! This is exactly where your friend arrived when he came to Berlin for the first time… And it has not changed much since then… »

I walked to the door passengers use to come into the Terminal and from there, I started filming. I could imagine Will and Paul walking here… and going through customs controls… I filmed everything, even the imprint on the marble wall, still showing the pattern of the large Nazi eagle that use so be there… Paul had told me about that eagle, and what he had felt at the time, seeing that…

After our visit, we went back to the car and I said :

« Now, from here… they went to Will’s home. »

I showed Herr Schwarzmann my notes, and told him where Will and his family used to live, as well as the street name…

« …Yes. That was in Charlottenburg. We can go there… but you won’t find that street. It doesn’t exist anymore. During the war, everything was destroyed over there… and after the war, new streets were designed… and new buildings and houses were built. Sorry. But the Charlottenburg Palace is still there. It was badly damaged by Allied bombs in 1943… but since then, it has been restored. Would you like to see it? », Herr Schwarzmann asked…

« Sure. Let’s go. », I answered, smiling…

On our way to the Charlottenburg Palace, I filmed all I could. I knew that Will and Paul had used the same streets to reach Will’s home. Some buildings were old… others were more recent. Not everything had been destroyed during the war, so I kept filming…

Once at the Charlottenburg Palace, we parked the car and again I filmed everything I could…

« The Palace was restored thru the 1950’s and the 1960’s », our old friend started to explain. « Now, it looks exactly as it used to, before the war… »

« It’s beautiful… », I answered…

« Yes. It is. », our old friend proudly answered…

We visited the Palace… then had lunch.

After the lunch, I said :

« Look at my notes Herr Schwarzmann… Paul told me Will and Lutz’s parents were buried at the Hohenschonhausen Cemetery. Do you know where it is located? »

« Are you sure they were buried there? That cemetery is not located in Charlottenburg you know. It’s located in East-Berlin… or what used to be East-Berlin… »