gone their worldly ways,” sighed Carin in a letter written on the
anniversary of the putsch, “and how many ‘good friends’ too.”
She longed for a home of her own again:
At home I could set the table myself with a few
flowers from the market, I could speak naturally
without the next table eavesdropping on every word,
I could laugh out loud, I could jump up and plant a
kiss on Hermann in the midst of everything...
When shall we be spared the monotony of three
fresh towels neatly hung over the wash basin each
morning, instead of hearing Hermann’s voice half
reproachful, half apologetic calling out, “Carin,
perhaps it is time for me to have a fresh towel, I’ve
had this one for ages,” and to quarrel, just a tiny little
bit!Between them they developed a plan for her to sell off the villa
at Obermenzing, while Hermann traveled to Sweden by a
roundabout route through Austria and Poland to avoid arrest
in Germany. But how to buy the tickets? Sitting in the hotel
lobby while Carin brooded upstairs, Hermann composed a letter
in painful, prosaic Swedish to her mother on October , :
“For one year we have grappled with our singular fate. Often we
are in despair, but our faith in God’s help has fortified us. Carin
is so brave, so sweet to me and such a great comfort that I cannot
thank her enough.”
Unstinting in his flattery of her mother, since this was an
emergency, he added: “We long for our beloved, wonderful
Mama and hope to God that we shall see our Mama again as
soon as possible and can sit down together and describe our
eventful life this last year and can start a new life full of sun-
shine!”
The money came, but they postponed their departure for