Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

I teach a course in healing at the hospital to three young, unusual people,
Sagdulla Bakhrami from Samarkand, Bertha Wagenbauer from Elisabethtal, and
Christine Ortaladze, who has become my close friend.
You may tell Claudia that I succeeded in teaching someone to "fly" and to heal
who had no experience in this strange art—we had a long argument with Claudia’s
father about this subject on my last visit to Munich. Professor Dahl was very critical of
my arrogant self-confidence in my "occult" capabilities. It can be taught!
How are Niko and Claudia, my special brother and my dear friend? How is their
child, Klaus? He must already be a big boy. I long to see them. And how is goodhearted
v. d. S.? Was the trip to Germany as exciting as you had hoped?
I love you with all my heart, even if you must have often felt neglected and
unloved by me. I will hover around you and protect you, have confidence in your
extravagant, strange mother. Give my thanks and greetings to Clara and Joachim and
thank Friedrich von Bredow and his wife for giving you shelter. Don’t forget to kiss the
Mouse from me.
I embrace you, my Tuscan child
with Love
Alexandra
P.S. I shall entrust this letter to Alexander von Rollov. His name is a Russian
version of Reullaux, an old East Prussian Huguenot name. Rollov has been the director
of the botanical gardens. He decided to leave for Germany. Konrad will replace him at
the gardens.
The violent overthrow of the Last Paradise came suddenly in February 1921.
…I am writing in great haste at the hospital in the middle of the night. Uncle
David Chavchavadze is waiting to take this letter with him to Europe. His family and
George’s are already in Batumi. David has to leave before daylight to make his way out
of Tbilisi.
The final fall came two days ago with the Red Army descending on Tbilisi from
three sides, only the coast near Batumi is still open. Once again we have decided to
stay. The Zugdidi Dadiani, the Orbeliani, and the Dadeshkeliani will leave with the inner
circle around Jordania. Tamara, pig-headed as always, wants to stay. With her close
ties to the Mensheviks she is in real danger…
This is going to be an ugly letter, but I trust you to understand that I cannot lie
about three ugly days. You are no longer a child whom I need to protect.
The invasion took place at night. I was at the hospital on night shift because we
have an outbreak of typhoid among the refugees in Ortachala—twelve serious cases
and two dead so far. Thank God, Konrad was spared the worst, he was with my
parents.
A group of soldiers stormed the hospital. They herded all female personnel into
one ward, threw the patients out of their beds and mass-raped the women. The officer
of the detachment stuck a gun into my mouth and neatly raped your mother, separately.
I am forty-three now and will survive it. But the shame, which I still have trouble
living down, is that these soldiers were not Russians but native Georgian Bolsheviks.
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