Who Do You Trust When the World is at War?
Genre: Drama
Director: Meirad Tako
Writer: Meirad Tako
Producer: Wes Anderson
Cast: Dafne Keen, Louis Partridge, Daniel Bruhl
Plot: "Today, on November 21, 2036 at 14:32, Germany declared its defeat in the Third World War. It is hereby declared that the Third World War has ended. This decision was made by Prime Minister Ulrich Heiss in the signing of the surrender document yesterday afternoon at 13:47. In the surrender document, Ulrich Heiss stated that--"
Helga Helmfried (Dafne Keen) frowned as she walked away from the television in the house she had just watched. The sound of the television was still there, but she didn't want to listen to it. She tightened her jacket and put her hands in the pockets. Occasionally, she blew on her hands to feel the warmth of her breath, even though the air that came out was cold smoke. Although Berlin was her hometown, she couldn't stand the cold wind in November.
Unconsciously, Helga's foot stumbled on a piece of broken concrete. Her balance was unsteady, and she almost fell to her left side, but she managed to hold onto a larger piece of concrete as support. Her eyes followed along Wilhelmstraße just to find debris that had not been cleared. The buildings on the Wilhelmstraße side looked collapsed, some were only left with their skeletons. Perhaps the debris that made Helga stumble came from one of these buildings. Helga continued to walk to the Spree River, which began to freeze.
She walked along the Karl-Liebknecht Bridge to the middle. She looked ahead and saw that the Berliner Dom was completely destroyed, no longer in any recognizable shape. On the Spree, a thin layer of ice began to form on the surface of the water. However, what was usually a clear river like a brand new doll's eye, now the river was gray. Helga took a deep breath, hoping to smell the scent of winter river in her nose. Instead of the typical winter scent, she got a mixture of gunpowder, blood, and corpses that emanated from the river. Her eyes sometimes caught floating body parts there, whose organs they belonged to were unknown. They hadn't been cleaned up due to the battle yesterday. Helga pulled up her scarf to cover her nose, trying to block the smell from the river and walked away from there.
The news of Germany's defeat in the Third World War deeply shook Helga. She didn't know how to react. Should she be sad because her country lost, or happy that the war ended after four years? She could have joined the refugee convoy and fled to a small country that wasn't involved in the war. She could have started a new life there, changed her name, and looked for a job. After all, Helga was old enough to work. But she gave up all those plans because her father, Karl Helmfried (Daniel Bruhl), was a high-ranking member of the Neo-Nazi party.
The Neo-Nazi party, a socio-national democratic party led by Karl Helmfried, was the most influential party in Germany. All political activities in Germany were organized by this party. It could be said that if Neo-Nazi disappeared, so would Germany as a nation and a state. Helga still remembered Herr Helmfried's words, one month before Germany was declared defeated.
"Daddy won't go far, won't leave Berlin," said Herr Helmfried as he packed up packaged food and drinks to be taken to the bunker. They were in the basement of the Helmfried residence.
"Where to?"
Herr Helmfried shook his head. "Can't tell you."
"Papa doesn't trust me? Papa thinks I'll leak everything to the Allied forces?" Helga tried to look into her father's eyes, but Herr Helmfried refused to meet her gaze. Helga looked very worried, tears welling up in her eyes, but she tried to hide it from him.
"Schatzi, listen," Herr Helmfried cupped Helga's chin, making their eyes meet.
"Allied spies could be anywhere. You don't know if the Berliner Dom is listening to our conversation or not. Better safe than sorry."
"Can I come along?" Helga asked, pushing Herr Helmfried's hand away from her chin.
Herr Helmfried just shook his head. He went back to arranging the food and drinks supplies to be taken to the bunker later. "Papa doesn't want you to die. You have to live."
"For what reason should I live if Mama and Papa are not beside me?"
Seeing her stubborn behavior, Herr Helmfried softened. He knew Helga was angry with the fact that her father now had to take refuge in the bunker until the end of the war to avoid being caught by the Allied forces. He knew his little girl was upset with the fact that she might not be able to be with him until the end of his life.
"Well, how about Papa promises to meet you after the war ends? We can live together again, in one house again."
Helga still had a sour face. She wasn't sure if that would happen. She wasn't sure if she would live until the end of the war. She might be caught by the Allies as the daughter of the leader of the most influential party in Germany.
Helga shook her head to respond. "I want Papa to promise to stay alive until we meet again on some unknown day."
"Agreed." Herr Helmfried extended his rough right pinky finger to Helga. Helga took that pinky finger, signifying the promise had been made.
Herr Helmfried then reached into his waist pouch. He pulled out his old pistol, a VP70, an old heirloom passed down from his grandfather that he still kept for safety. Herr Helmfried placed the pistol on the table, then emptied all of its bullets from his waist pouch. He slid the pistol over to Helga.
"For you. To keep you safe. If you're in trouble, just use this pistol. Don't let this pistol fall into someone else's hands, okay?"
"How will Papa keep himself safe?"
"Don't worry about Papa. What's important is that you're safe. Don't let anyone find out," said Herr Helmfried.
"Is there a way for me to contact Papa?"
Herr Helmfried opened a drawer containing two small box-shaped devices, no bigger than a matchbox. Each of them had only four buttons with different functions. The green button meant "alive," yellow meant "injured," red meant "in danger," and blue meant "dead." If one button on one device was pressed, the other device would capture the signal no matter how far away it was, and the corresponding button on the other device would light up.
"Papa won't bring his phone to the bunker, so this is the only way. Follow the signal if the machine lights up in red."
"Only if it lights up in red?"
"Only if it lights up in red."
Helga nodded, understanding. Her eyes weren't focused on the device, though. She was watching ants moving their nest.
"Gut."
Herr Helmfried gathered the things he had prepared earlier. With a sad and weary look in his eyes, Helga stared at the figure in front of her. She never thought she would be separated from her father, the person who had taken care of her since she was a child, the person who always gave her attention despite being busy with the party. Now, in this dire situation, Herr Helmfried had to go to a bunker somewhere and Helga wasn't allowed to go with him.
Helga hugged Herr Helmfried's back from behind before he left. Herr Helmfried returned the embrace, and tears fell on Helga's shoulder unconsciously. "Auf Wiedersehen."
Herr Helmfried just smiled hearing the weak farewell from his daughter. "Auf Wiedersehen."
Today marks one month since Herr Helmfried went to the bunker. And during that month, Helga has not heard anything from Herr Helmfried. She also didn't try to contact him. She was afraid of Herr Helmfried's whereabouts being revealed due to her carelessness. So as much as possible, she gave up her intention to contact Herr Helmfried.
"Helga!" shouted a young man whose voice Helga recognized, Hans (Louis Patridge). His full name was Hans Müller, a young man the same age as Helga who became a new member of the Neo-Nazi Party. The skinny boy had straight, neatly combed hair, and snow-white skin. Brown spots on his face added to his appeal.
Since Herr Helmfried hired Hans to work for the party, Helga had fallen in love with him. He said he was not from Berlin but from Düsseldorf. He deliberately moved to Berlin to be appointed as a member of the Neo-Nazi Party. What made Helga fall in love was their similarity. Helga loves astronomy and history very much. One day Hans caught her reading a world history book.
"The Covid-19 pandemic, huh? I was only two years old then," quipped Hans.
Helga immediately closed her book in surprise. She turned to Hans with her typical cold expression. "You shouldn't have barged into a room that wasn't locked. Weren't you taught manners in Düsseldorf?"
"I'm sorry for barging in. I heard from your father that you need a friend, and he directed me here. So, I came in."
Helga ignored him. She put the book back on the shelf and then sat back in her chair. "What do you want from me?"
Hans burst into laughter. "Oh my god, there's no need to act like that. I'm your friend here." Hans reached out his hand to Helga. "Hans Müller."
Helga greeted Hans' hand, but her face still looked sour. "Helga. You know my last name."
"You know, during the pandemic outbreak, we couldn't go anywhere. That's why I only went outside when I was four years old. I remember what it felt like to breathe fresh air for the first time," Hans explained. "How old were you at that time?"
"One year old. I don't like talking about the pandemic," Helga said firmly.
"Why is that?"
"Because my mother passed away because of that stupid virus."
Since then, Hans stopped discussing history and focused on talking about astronomy. Luckily, Hans and Helga had the same habit of climbing onto the roof at midnight just to see the stars. Slowly but surely, they tolerated each other's presence, especially Helga. Helga was impressed with his knowledge of celestial objects. And since then, Helga fell in love with Hans.
Helga turned to the sound's origin, seeing Hans running and waving his hands. Hans might not be able to see the wide smile on Helga's face as she watched him run like a little kid because her scarf still covered half of her face.
"How did you know it was me?" Helga asked after Hans arrived by her side.
"Your red scarf. Who else has a worn-out red scarf like that?"
Helga lowered her scarf from her nose. Instantly, the smell of the pungent river and gunpowder wafted into her nose. "Do you think this is worn-out?"
"Ja," Hans said, shrugging his shoulders.
"This scarf is made by Mama. You shouldn't insult Mama's work," said Helga.
Hans laughed. "Es tut mir Leid. But maybe you should replace your scarf?"
Helga shook her head. "There's no time for that. We're in the midst of a war. There's no time to think about what clothes to wear tomorrow. Just wearing clothes is already a blessing."
"You're right. Let's help the others. We're cleaning up Burgstraße. You can treat the injured there," said Hans, reaching out his hand.
Helga took his hand. They walked hand in hand towards Burgstraße. Compared to Wilhelmstraße, Burgstraße suffered more damage. The buildings were completely destroyed, debris was everywhere. Smoke billowed on the street as if it had just been bombed. But it was the dust from the street. Helga saw a group of women holding brooms to clear the debris that covered the road. Some of them were collecting items that they thought could be reused.
Trümmerfrauen or "rubble women," as they were commonly called. Because of the shortage of men in the city - many men became soldiers, the rest were prisoners of war - women had to step in to clean up the city. They cleared the rubble and searched for items in the debris that they could use to survive. Helga had read in a history book that the term Trümmerfrauen appeared during World War II.
"Helga! Come help us!" shouted one of them.
Without hesitation, Helga rolled up her jacket sleeves and took a broom. She cleared the way from the rubble by carrying it to the side of the road. On the other hand, Hans helped to move larger debris by lifting it. If it was too big, Hans would break the debris before moving it. Sometimes, Helga and Hans found something unexpected, like a crushed ear or even a piece of a hand or foot. The body parts they found were gathered in one place lined with cloth and then wrapped and buried. Some of them also found old iron army helmets. They were good enough to warm up canned soup in the cold of November.
Their work was done after sunset. That's when Helga and Hans were invited to have dinner together. At first, Helga and Hans refused, but the women insisted. Finally, after coaxing, Helga and Hans were given warmed-up canned bread and soup to eat together by the banks of the River Spree.
"The war is over," said Hans as he took a bite of his bread.
Helga just nodded quietly. She sipped the hot soup from the can, her lips reddened by the heat. "I don't know whether to feel sad or happy."
"Why are you happy?" Hans asked.
"Of course, I'm happy. The war is over. Who likes war in this world? No one, Hans."
"But Germany lost. You should be sad."
Helga didn't answer. She didn't want to debate her political leanings with anyone. It was a dangerous thing, especially since the situation was still not conducive. "Who are you to dictate what I should feel?"
Hans laughed. "You have the right to be happy, then."
They ate in silence while occasionally gazing at the River Spree. It no longer smelled as bad as it did earlier in the day, and their faces weren't as grim as they were before. The River Spree looked normal, as normal as it was four years ago.
"If there was no war, what would you do?" Hans asked casually. He finished his soup.
"I don't know. Maybe college. I want to study astronomy if possible. Or history. I'll attend a prestigious Gymnasium in Germany and continue my studies at a renowned university. I don't know where that will be. What about you?"
"Maybe I'll go back to Düsseldorf. See my parents there and apologize. I haven't contacted them since I moved to Berlin. They may not know if I'm still alive or not," Hans replied with a bitter laugh.
"Why didn't you contact them?"
"My parents didn't allow me to enter the world of politics, let alone become a member of a Neo-Nazi party. They were very angry when I told them I wanted to move to Berlin to join this party. I left them in anger. Now I regret not being able to say goodbye properly," Hans explained.
"Do you think they're dead?" Helga asked, her mouth full of bread.
"No. But the chances of them being dead are higher than the chances of them being alive."
"You're right."
"Will you still go to college? Say, if the situation is safe a year from now. Will you still attend a prestigious Gymnasium in Germany?"
Helga shook her head. "I don't know. Right now, all I think about is how to live until tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. To be able to eat and wear warm clothes is already a blessing, going to college is not necessary."
"What about getting married?" he asked.
Helga looked surprised. The man next to her had just said something she couldn't believe. "We're only 17 and 18 years old. What do we know about getting married?"
Hans shrugged. "In the future, not now."
"Still."
"If I were the groom and you were the bride, how would it be?"
Helga furrowed her brow in confusion. She was slightly amused by Hans' statement. They were in love with each other, but more serious relationships like marriage weren't on Helga's list. Not yet.
"Yes or no?" Hans demanded.
"You know, I just realized one thing. When you speak German, there's a little bit of an American accent in there," Helga said, changing the subject.
Hans finally gave in, but he knew he wouldn't lose. "Everyone has learned English, Helga. In times like these, if you can't speak English, you'll be mocked."
Helga laughed. "But your accent is different. I know that."
"You're just pretending to know. Have you ever been to America?"
"Have you been to America yourself?"
"Not yet."
"Well then, it's a draw."
Helga leaned back, propping herself up with both arms. They both enjoyed the moonlight that illuminated the Spree River.
"You haven't answered my question yet," Hans pressed.
"Which one?"
"Ja oder nein?"
Annoyed, Helga rolled her eyes. She knew that the answer might not satisfy her today, but she would definitely want it in the future. "Ja."
At nine o'clock, or so Hans had said, Helga returned home. Her house had suffered minimal destruction. At least her bedroom and the access to the basement were still covered by the roof.
Before going to bed, Helga took something out of her pants pocket. It was her communication device. She always carried it with her in her pocket just to remind her of her father. However, since Herr Helmfried had given it to her, she had never used it.
Helga sat on her bed, gazing at the device. Should she send a signal that she was okay? Was this the right time for her to do so? Her father had the right to know about her condition, just as she had the right to know about his. However, Helga hesitated because she felt that this was not the right time for her to contact him. Germany might have already lost the war, but could Herr Helmfried, as the leader of the party, be free just like that?
With a deep breath, Helga finally took the risk of letting her father know that she was still alive. Helga pressed the green button with her trembling hand. Her heart was beating fast, and she could even hear the blood flowing from her ears. Her breath was caught in her throat due to fear. However, Helga had been waiting for five minutes, but there was still no reply. She waited for a longer time, maybe Herr Helmfried was busy. Maybe Herr Helmfried was not holding the device. Helga waited for ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty minutes, but still no reply. She decided to lie down and doze off, just in case the device lit up. Before closing her eyes, she reached into her jacket pocket. VP70 was still there. Safe.
Not even two hours after Helga closed her eyes, she was awakened by her communication device, which was now flashing red. Papa. Herr Helmfried is in danger. Helga immediately jumped out of bed, grabbed her scarf and shoes, and activated the signal tracking feature of the device. Without wasting any time, Helga left her house and followed the signal that led her to Herr Helmfried's underground bunker.
Heavy rain greeted her as she stepped outside her house. "Damn it," she cursed. Her hair was wet, her thick clothes were soaked and heavy from the water. Her view was now obscured by fog and rain. Helga decided to take off her jacket so as not to weigh her down. She continued running, following the signal.
The signal led her down Wilhelmstraße and to the Spree River. It took her east and then north, past the Berliner Dom and the Brandenburger Tor, until it stopped at Fritz-Schloß Park. The signal became more frantic. Helga was sure Herr Helmfried's underground bunker was located in this park, but where exactly?
Her eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of a reflection from a dimly lit street lamp. The light bounced off a small piece of broken glass hidden in the bushes. Curious, Helga approached the broken glass.
Upon closer inspection, the broken glass looked ordinary, but what was underneath it was not. When Helga stepped on the ground where the broken glass was, she almost slipped. Her shoe left imprints on all the gray metal objects buried in the ground. Helga immediately dug into the ground with her hands. Her hands and face were now covered in dirt, but she didn't give up. Her instinct told her that her father was in this bunker.
Sure enough, a gray iron door was displayed there. Helga pulled the lever, and the door opened easily, revealing a makeshift staircase made of earth. Water immediately entered the bunker, making the stairs slippery.
"Papa!" Helga shouted. "Where are you?"
A familiar hoarse and heavy voice suddenly sounded from afar. It was Herr Helmfried's voice. "Helga! Don't come here!"
Helga didn't care about the warning. She followed the direction of the voice to catch up with Herr Helmfried. Turning left and right, she walked through the tunnels to reach Herr Helmfried's bunker. The longer she walked, the more she realized that it wasn't just Herr Helmfried's voice she heard. There were other sounds, the groans and grunts of men. Helga followed the sounds, now convinced that her father was in danger.
Her steps stopped right in front of a large room with an open door. There were many people inside. Three of them were tied to chairs, each guarded by a soldier. Their navy blue uniforms indicated that they were Allied soldiers. Several people, maybe eight to ten of them, were lying on the ground. They moaned in pain.
"Helga!" Herr Helmfried yelled when he realized that his daughter was there.
Immediately, the soldier closest to her pointed his gun at her forehead. Helga reflexively pulled out the gun her father had given her and pointed it at the soldier too. How surprised Helga was when she recognized who the soldier was. His straight hair styled in a soldier's fashion, his skinny and sickly body, and the brown spots on his face.
"Hans. What are you doing here? Why—"
"Aww. Look who came to witness Papa's death," Hans said casually. His mouth half-smiling, twitching.
"Hans, what is going on? Release Papa."
"Oh, you're right. How foolish of me not to know what manners are. I'm sorry if I welcomed you with a gun. Let's sit down first. I want to show you something."
Helga refused to sit down. She remained focused on Hans, her hand still holding the gun. However, this only made Hans angry. He pushed Helga forcefully onto the table, tying her hands behind her back. Hans took the gun and gave it to one of his men.
"VP70, huh? Classic," said one of his subordinates.
"Listen, Helga. I apologize for treating you and your father so poorly. Your father just wanted to protect himself, didn't he? He wanted to stay alive, he wanted you to stay alive. But in war, there are winners and losers. And I was tasked with making sure you lost."
Tasked. The word made Helga shiver. There was a reason why Hans had been so kind to her. There was a reason why Hans had come to Berlin. There was a reason why Hans had gotten into politics and joined the new Neo-Nazi Party recently. There was a reason why there was an American accent in Hans' speech. Hans wasn't from Düsseldorf. Hans was from America.
"Are you an Allied soldier?"
"An Allied spy."
"Are you lying to me?"
Hans snorted. "You might be smart academically, Helga. But you're easy to fool. An easy target for information gathering. Especially after you trusted me."
"But how could you?"
Hans pulled out a small object, as small as a fly, from his pocket. The object was round like a ball, with a small lens on the front. A spy drone. How could Helga not notice that?
"Do you remember when I first met you in the reading room? I programmed this drone to follow you everywhere. So I could know what you were doing and saying. I knew about your conversation with your father about this bunker. But your father is smart, he didn't tell us where the bunker was located. Then you turned on that communication device. Our drone instantly picked up the same signal and led us here. I should thank you for that, Helga."
"Release Papa," Helga pleaded.
Hans shook his head. "Do you think I can easily release the prisoner I've been searching for? How naive."
"I'll do anything, but release Papa." Helga knew her words were not thought out, but it was better than watching her father suffer.
"Anything?"
"Yes."
"What if I want you dead too?" Hans embraced Helga from behind and placed his knife to her neck. Helga could feel the cold, sharp metal grazing her skin.
"Go ahead. Even if you make me your slave, I don't care as long as you release Papa first."
"Helga," Herr Helmfried called out. But Helga ignored him.
Hans released his embrace. "Alright, if that's what you want."
"Release Papa first!" Helga cried.
"Fine, fine! Release Herr Helmfried." The soldier guarding Herr Helmfried untied his restraints. Herr Helmfried immediately rushed to embrace his beloved daughter.
Hans retrieved a rope from his pocket, grabbed Helga's legs, and tied them to the table. His hands roamed over her legs, then up to her waist and face. He roughly grabbed her face and kissed her cheek without feeling anything. A red mark appeared there. "Consider it as a return of my love for you. Because I never had any feelings for you."
"You bastard, Hans," Helga spat.
Hans snickered happily. He reached into his pocket again and pulled out two grenade bombs. "The problem is not about who is released."
Hans pulled the pin on the bombs, activating them. Both bombs would explode in five seconds from now.
Helga's eyes widened in panic. She shook her legs and arms to try and break free from the table restraints. Herr Helmfried tried to untie her, but the rope was tied too tight. "Throw away the bombs," Helga ordered.
Helga knew she had made a mistake when Hans threw both bombs into the bunker and closed the door. "Instead, it's about who can get out of the bunker to survive," Hans added.
Helga screamed from inside the bunker, calling out to Hans. But the sound of the grenade explosion drowned out her screams.
Blackness. Helga did not remember anything else except for blackness.
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