Rain fell steadily on the black umbrellas of those present. It painted the light grey tombstones a dark grey and crudely imitated Ivy's tears. Perhaps the skies wept for him as well.
Yvonne Köhler, or Ivy, as everyone knew her, was a 19 year old living in Berlin. She was born in Kiel on a cold Spring morning of 1920. Her birth came at a time when Germany was submerged in depression, right after The Great War, and she grew up in a time of economic growth and flourishing success, all due to the Nazi party. Her hero, the nation's hero, Führer Adolf Hitler, had been the saviour of an unemployed, starved, and broken Germany.
Yet not everyone was keen to Hitler nor accepted his methods of diplomacy. While he had taken the country back to its former glory and brought back its old traditions which were almost lost in the frenzy of the Roaring Twenties, even those who valued traditions disliked him. Among those people were Ivy's mother, Simone, and her grandparents, Gerda and Antoine Neumann.
Antoine in particular had disliked the Führer because he had been able to see past his façade of peacekeeper. He had known, deep down, that all Adolf wanted was another war. Yet Antoine had always assured those around him that there wasn't going to be another war. He had fought in The Great War, for France, yet he mourned Germany's losses too and never considered it his real enemy. He even fell in love with a German girl he met in Paris.
His assertion of another war between his birth nation and his nation of residence being unlikely had been more for himself than anyone else. An hour after the announcement of a new war with Great Britain came the news of France joining the war.
Upon hearing the news of another war of powerful nations, of his two beloved countries yet again, his already upset heart could take no more. A strong, overwhelming pain in his chest that left him breathless turned out to be a heart attack. It wasn't the first time he'd had one, and despite his doctor's best efforts, his tired heart gave up.
At the age of 65, Antoine died a few hours after the news of war. His last moments had been in his bed, surrounded by most of his family. He had a son, also named Antoine, who lived in Paris and they could only contact him by mail. It would take days for him to have word of his father's death. The only other person missing had been Kristian, Ivy's brother. Although they had phoned him many times, the family hadn't been able to speak with him, and these weren't the sort of news one could leave as a message with a stranger.
Ivy remembered the moment she had alone by her Opa's side, clutching his hand tightly, hoping that if she held on to him tight enough he would not slip into darkness. In his last moments he struggled to speak, but he managed to say to her "Be strong, ma chérie. This war... won't last long, I hope. But you stay strong no matter... how long... and follow your heart..." he gasped for air. He pointed at her heart and repeated "Follow... it..."
Ivy didn't cry in front of him, as to not upset him, she simply nodded. The doctor then came into the room and asked Ivy to step out as he checked on Antoine once more. That was the last time she saw him, because he died not long after and she couldn't stand to see him lifeless. She hadn't been ready to say goodbye, and now she never could.
It was fitting that it would be raining on the day of his funeral. Autumn was on its way, and preceding it were the cold winds and rain. Ivy was glad, because had that day been sunny and warm, it would have made the whole scenario a lot more surreal. She already felt as though it was all a dream, or a rather a nightmare, and that it hadn't really happened. Her Opa hadn't really just died. Her country was not really going to war with France and Britain once more.
Follow your heart... I always follow my heart, don't I? What does my heart tell me? What good does the heart do, when it failed you, Opa? Please come back to us, Opa, please. She stared at the tombstone where he laid. The priest continued to recite prayers in Latin and occasionally French.
Antoine's wishes had been to be buried in his hometown of Haguenau; thus, her family and she traveled to another country for the first time in her life. She had dreamed of visiting France someday, never imagining that it would be under those circumstances. Yet Haguenau was not much different from any German town Ivy had seen. The houses and people all looked the same, even the town's church looked like Berlin's or Kiel's churches. But the people weren't German and they made that very clear. Ivy once thought that Berlin had too many German flags hanging everywhere, especially during the Olympics, but the people of Haguenau truly were proud of being French. French flags hung from shops and houses, it was rather pretty.
Red, white, and blue decorated the buildings wherever she looked. Oddly enough, most shop signs were in German, sometimes mixed with French, and the streets all had German names. That's what she had been able to notice on the car ride to the cemetery. She hadn't seen much of the town because they never stopped the car. Ivy, the twins, her father, mother, and grandmother had taken a train to Baden-Baden and from there drove straight to Haguenau's church and cemetery. Antoine's body had been taken there in advance. They still hadn't been able to communicate with Kristian, and were all beginning to really worry. Ivy was also worried about Uli, she had no way of knowing whether he was well or not until it was time for him to return from the fight in Poland. Nobody knew when that would be.
As a general of the SS, Peter, Ivy's father, was obliged to wear his uniform in public at all times now that they were in a state of war. Getting through the French guards at the border had been truly unpleasant. They made them wait three hours and Ivy suspected they did that for the fun of it. The guards' dislike for Peter had been apparent, but Peter kept his temper under control and simply sat in the front passenger seat, frowning. Ivy just sat in the back, staring out the window. It all looked the same. The land was the same, no matter what side she looked at. Lots of forests and occasionally some troops that looked like they were camping. There was no difference between Germany and France from what she could see, there were no borders, but politics dictated otherwise. This would be France's third major war with Germany in the last 70 years alone.
The funeral had also been unpleasant, not only because it was a funeral, but because Antoine's friends attended it to pay their respects. They were veterans from The Great War just like he had been, they had fought alongside him in the trenches, and since the funeral was a proper military funeral, they wore their uniforms proudly. The French veterans glared at Peter as though they wished it was him under the earth and not Antoine. They probably did.
Peter didn't care, the war hadn't really begun yet, it was only days old and although it was official, the French and British were being very cautious. They had taken up a defensive position along the border, ready to take on a German invasion, yet they were the ones that could have easily invaded. Most of Germany's forces were still fighting in Poland, and the entire southwestern part of the country was practically defenseless. Yet the French held back, most of their generals were survivors of the bloody and cruel Great War, they didn't want to see any more bloodshed. Not a shot had been fired yet, but Peter did see that the army formations along the French border outnumbered the German formations by more than four to one.
Ivy truly did not want a war, although she felt curious and intrigued by the idea of it. She wondered what it was like to live through a war. Her curiosity had wandered on the edge of excitement, but that was before hearing that the news of war alone had taken her grandfather's life. Heidi laid the last rose on the pile of wet roses scattered over the tomb. The priest concluded the ceremony and said something in French which Ivy assumed had been a farewell to all present. He then went inside the church that was next to the cemetery.
"Come on, let's get back to the car. We're only staying in a hotel once we are in Baden-Baden again, God forbid we get trapped on this side of the border," Simone said. The clouds dispersed and the rain ceased. Peter walked ahead to speak with an SS officer who was also their driver for the long journey.
"Actually, darling, there is something I must tell you. I might as well tell you all now," Gerda said as they walked towards the car. She held her son's hand, Ivy could tell she had missed him a lot. It was mystery to her why her uncle, Antoine, whom she had just met for the first time ever, had never visited them in Germany. Ivy knew that her mother didn't get along with him, but she also knew that her grandparents loved him dearly. Yet he never bothered to visit them, or to meet his niece and nephew.
"I'm not going back, I'm staying here," Gerda said.
"What? What do you mean not going back?" Simone asked.
"I'm staying here in France. I'm going to return to Paris, spend some time with young Antoine, and just... Paris is so lovely, it's what I need right now," Gerda replied.
"Mother! Antoine hasn't cared about us in how many years now? I can barely call him my brother, you really want to risk your safety in this country just to be with him?" Simone was outraged.
"You know, my German is not good but I can understand you, and I am right here," Uncle Antoine spoke for the first time.
"I am as safe in Paris as I am in Berlin, Simone, and now is not the time for you to question your brother's actions. We are all guilty of imperfect behaviour, but it's never too late to change," Gerda said.
"Do as you wish, Mother, but he has been a terrible son and brother for the past two decades, and I will not forgive that," Simone glared at her brother.
Antoine replied to her insults in French, with what must have been more insults, and they began arguing in two different languages. Gerda put up her hand to silence them both. "Enough, s'il vous plaît. Remember where you are standing! Let's all say goodbye for now, oui?" she hugged Simone.
When she hugged Ivy, she told her "Take care of yourself, my darling, I love you so much."
"Do you really have to go, Oma?" Ivy asked. She would miss her grandmother now more than ever, but Ivy understood that she needed to get away.
"Yes, love. You are welcome to come with us if you like," Gerda said.
"Absolutely not!" Simone interrupted.
"I would love to come with you, Oma, but I can't. I have Heidi and Trudi to care for and my place is in Berlin, where Uli will soon return," Ivy hugged her once more.
Gerda told them to bid Peter farewell in her stead. Antoine turned to Ivy and said "Mademoiselle," as he quickly bowed his head. They then headed for his car.
"I don't want to head back today, it's getting late and soon it will be dark. The border is extremely dangerous right now. Hofmann over here tells me that he spoke with the Reichstag and we should be okay to cross back, but it's best to wait until the morning. We should stay at your parent's cottage, do you have the keys?" Peter asked Simone.
"I do have the keys but I don't want to stay here tonight, the sooner we get back the better. What if a battle breaks out in the morning?" Simone asked him.
"It won't," he replied.
"How can you know?"
"Woman, I'm one of the Führer's advising generals," Peter told her.
"Nobody knows what goes on in the Führer's head. Also, the French might decide to attack first, and the Reichstag has no way of knowing that. I say we should go back," Simone protested.
"I think I would know if we were planning an attack on this fucking land. The French are too scared of us to strike first, so they won't. Now give me those keys. We are spending the night here and you are not questioning my authority as husband or General ever again," Peter was livid.
Ivy had never seen him so angry with her mother. He was changing. Things were changing.
She led the twins back to the car, Heidi held her right hand and Trudi her left. They looked incredibly adorable dressed in all black, and despite the horrible day Ivy was having, they always managed to make her smile. Follow your heart... My heart tells me that I love these little girls as if they were my own, and I love Ulrich. But I have a feeling Opa's death is only the beginning. Where do I follow my heart? How can I follow it if it doesn't know where to go?