Vienna was ripe for political violence because the city was full of socialist, and they were held in contempt by the “black forces” represented by the conservative Christian Social Party. The conflict between the two groups led to people getting killed in the streets. And though Mannerheim and other shelters and soup kitchens scattered around city were part of the social experiment Pauline tried to stay out of politics. At least, at first she tried.
She was now fully engaged in helping people. She didn’t have to do much looking to find the homeless and needy and then perhaps she wouldn’t have been interested in looking had she not been looking for someone. During those days she fancied that Fritz still might be found among the lost men returning from war who suffered from shellshock and possibly didn’t remember who they were. She saw them wandering the streets, but felt detached and even detached at the shelter where she worked. She was able to compartmentalize. She was able to compartmentalize during the worst of times. She had her own problems, and they were overwhelming, so why would she want to take on anyone else’s misery? Compartmentalizing made it easier for her. Working was better than sitting at home, but with the end of the world that she once knew she also lost her empathy. When she saw those broken men and Fritz wasn’t among them she wanted to say, “Go away! I have my own problems.” She made herself go down to the Margareten and again once there she compartmentalized. She comforted them, fed them, offered them a bed and a towel, talked to them night after night but she didn’t take the experience home with her. And Fritz never showed up. Not then anyway. But she never stopped looking for him. And couldn’t forget that she was pregnant. How could she have forgotten that she was pregnant and particular since her husband wasn’t the father?
She was a mess, knowing that she had messed up, hating herself, feeling like a whore, and knowing that she’d have to do something that she deplored. She deplored abortionist. She rebuked their profession, and yet she knew that she’d have to go see one. And it would be one more thing that she would lose. Meanwhile the city had started to recover. The Reds had taken over. They had created resources where there hadn’t been any and tackled the city’s problems head-on with a massive expansion of social services and public housing.
Then came along Frederick. Nobody told Pauline that she’d run across someone that she’d love. She still hadn’t found her husband. Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be. So many men went missing during the war and were never found. And it was possible that Fritz didn’t want to be found, or that he’d wandered off, having suffered from shellshock and didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. .
Pauline felt more desperate than ever. Other women were getting their men back. To return to the life that she’d lived during the war, even on occasion, was no longer an option for her, but she would’ve given anything to be able to totally escape it. Night after night she fought the urge to slip back into her old routine. But even when she drank, and drank and drank to abort, she drank at home after work. Apparently she kept the routine of going to the Mannerheim so that she didn’t have think, could work long hours and exhaust herself because she only found peace when she was exhausted. And she hadn’t yet decided what she was going to do about her pregnancy.
So, on the battlefield, after the war, after the final charge or retreat, the dead remained in graves (rows of them, named and unnamed), but she wouldn’t go there to search. She felt with every kind of certainty that Fritz had been killed, and she’d have to start a new life without him. So why not have the baby? Why not raise him or her by herself? She knew it wouldn’t be easy and knew she could do it, but it would be a constant reminder of her disgrace, something that she wanted to forget. She went back and forth…couldn’t make a decision. No one told her she messed up, and no one told her what to do about it, but they didn’t have to.
The solution was simple. She could go away for a while (though she didn’t know where), have the baby, and then leave it on the doorstep of a convent, but nine months seemed like a long time to put her life on hold. Her decision was to shut down all of her emotions, to shove aside her religious objections, and get it over with as soon as possible.
She actually knew of an abortionist. There was a doctor in her neighborhood. She didn’t know him. She normally wouldn’t go to this doctor. Her doctor had an office across town. She knew this doctor was an abortionist because it was common knowledge. So he didn’t have to hang a shingle out because everyone knew who he was and what he stood for. In Red Vienna he practiced in the open and that sometimes made people feel uncomfortable and even angry. He being a sex reform physician probably meant that he was a socialist. And as long as the socialists were in power he had nothing to fear from the police. This doctor was known for his expertise, and this meant the risks to his patients were minimal. To say that he was ahead of his time wasn’t an exaggeration. All of this, in fact, was what convinced Pauline that she should go to him. She wouldn’t trust anyone else. She went by to make an appointment. She didn’t want to have to wait. Yet she wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. And she didn’t want people to see her go in. She didn’t look up. She kept walking. It’s a wonder she didn’t trip on the sidewalk. The day she went in, luckily she didn’t have to wait.
Randy Ford
