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Ilse von Dobermann Blog Entry |
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October 27, 2023, 3:00:47 AM 10/27/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Drawlloween: Got My Mind On My Mummy/Free Draw Friday." Drawlloween theme, Oct. 27: "Got My Mind On My Mummy." ... This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Ilse von Dobermann. She's Louis Dobermann's (he drops the "von") mother, and a baroness. She and the rest of his family die of the flu long before the main story takes place. She's the opposite of Louis, a social butterfly whereas he's quite solitary and ill at ease in public, though she tries hard to understand him. Dobermann later gives his daughter Adelina the middle name Ilse. There'll be more about her later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se (she's already featured in his Tumblr entry). Regarding her design, she's a fawn-and-tan doberman pinscher. I'm iffy on her hair; it's supposed to be kind of a pompadour as this part of the story is the late 1800s/early 1900s. TUMBLR EDIT: Well, glad I checked Louis Dobermann's entry to refresh my memory, because it turns out the info I gave about Ilse von Dobermann is in Katharina von Thiel's entry instead. Oops! Anyway, Katharina's story goes into a good amount of detail regarding the personality differences between mother and son, and how Ilse is the only member of the von Dobermann family to really put any effort into understanding where her younger son is coming from, and in lieu of that, at least trying to make accommodations for their differences. The von Dobermanns--father Rudolf, his brother Ewald, mother Ilse, and older son Horst--are loud, cheery, sociable--except for younger son Louis--he's the exact opposite of all his relatives, being quiet, overly serious and stoic, and reserved to the point of appearing asocial and standoffish. Everyone gets the wrong first impression of him, that he's a disinterested snob who thinks he's better than everyone else and looks down his nose at everyone. As an adult dealing with the Nazi regime, this appearance serves him well. For much of his younger life, Ilse is there to make excuses and offer explanations for his behavior. He has to learn rather early on how to deal without her...then Inga comes along. Let's back up now. Freiherr (Baron) Louis Ludwig von Dobermann (yes, he's basically named Louis, twice) is born slightly before the turn of the 20th century (circa 1897, I believe) to Junkers Freiherr Rudolf and Freifrau (Baroness) Ilse; Ilse briefly panics following the delivery, as the baby doesn't cry. The midwife (Louis is born at home) reassures her it's a healthy baby boy, and he makes a small disgruntled noise and wiggles when presented to her so she knows it's true, though it's just so bizarre to her that he isn't squalling--his older brother Horst certainly screamed up a storm when HE was born. Still, aside from his refusal to carry on like any other newborn, he's perfectly normal, and she croons over him as he nurses. Rudolf wants to name him Ludwig. Ilse had agreed on this name for a son, but now that he's here she has second thoughts. "He doesn't look or sound like a Ludwig," she muses; "I think he's a Louis." The parents agree to a compromise of sorts, and the baby is given two variants of the same name--the implication is that he'll be referred to by his middle name, Ludwig, yet it never sticks. He becomes Louis von Dobermann. Ilse has always been a social butterfly. She's extremely charming and outgoing, making friends with everyone, able and willing to carry on extended conversations about anything, knowing all the right things to say. It doesn't hurt that the von Dobermanns are rich as hell; they're the last of their line, but their family money has gone a long way, and they not only live very comfortably on their big old estate, but have more than enough to give freely to others as suits them. Rudolf and Ilse decide early on on a life of charity to go along with their social life; while money goes a long way toward greasing wheels and influencing people (and the von Dobermanns aren't above making use of it so), they do also genuinely believe in helping others. They definitely aren't coming from any position of knowing what it's like to be in need; they've been pretty well set all their lives (Ilse came from a noble family herself before marrying into the von Dobermann family). It just feels good to do good and to be liked. Although they're old country folk, most of their charity goes to the nearest city; the result is that the city folk adore them, and they're frequently invited to social events and parties. Rudolf's brother Ewald and Louis's brother Horst like the positive attention just as much. The von Dobermanns are often to be found mingling with the grateful city folk or, closer to home, visiting with their neighboring Junkers, including the von Thiels. Then Louis is born. Ilse starts to realize her younger son is different in more ways than just the one. Unlike Horst, who joins the other children in running around, playing pranks and games and chattering, he tends to stay near Ilse, lurking behind her dress, then, after she urges him to go off on his own, he takes to sitting at the sides of the rooms, always near a window or a door; it takes Ilse a while to understand Louis is always near an escape route. He doesn't approach the other children; he doesn't join in their play. Whenever one approaches him first, he responds, if only to be polite (as he was taught), but when invited to play, he seems unsure what to do; a few times he does try, but always ends up standing off to the side awkwardly before being ignored and left on his own anyway. Eventually he just shakes his head and draws in on himself when asked to play, then he stops being asked altogether. Ilse's heart breaks seeing her son grow more isolated with each outing. He looks miserable sitting by himself, yet the few times he's made to go interact with others, he seems even more resentful. Oddly, he gets along better with adults than with children, but still mostly stays to himself. Not wanting to force him, yet also not wanting him to be lonely, she takes him out for walks in the countryside sometimes, teaching him the names of the flowers, the trees, the insects, the stars. He responds to this much better than to the one time he goes on a hunting outing with Rudolf, Ewald, and Horst; while Horst cheers to shoot his first bird, Louis can't even take a shot, his eyes big and wet and his lip trembling although he doesn't cry. Ilse decides he prefers life to death, and she appears to be right. Rudolf expresses mild concern at first: "Do...do you suppose he's soft, a Muttersöhnchen...?" Ilse pooh-poohs the idea: "I think he just likes nice things rather than guts and blood. Can you blame a child for not wanting to get his hands dirty if he can help it...? Perhaps he'd rather paint a picture than skin a rabbit, do you think...?" Louis turns out to not be particularly artistic or passionately creative, either, though Ilse can tell he has deep feelings, he just keeps them to himself; he doesn't seem to dislike people, just seems painfully self-aware when dealing with them. He does take comfort in books, and in the stories Ilse tells him. He enjoys hearing and reading tales of the old history of the country, and while he never puts much stock in the traditional fairytales and legends like many children do, he still likes being told them. In particular, he's drawn to the history of his own family and people and where they came from, what they long ago did. He's fascinated by the old family tree and genealogies Ilse digs out and shows him, of their distant connections to long-ago nobles and royalty. Horst had never shown any such interest, so Ilse enjoys these more introspective moments she gets to spend with her younger son. She takes him on a walk one winter evening while the others have gone on another hunt, heading off in the opposite direction so their chances of running into each other are small. She notices how Louis flinches at the distant echoes of gunshots, and gently touches his shoulder. "Are you disappointed in me...?" he murmurs, to which she replies, "Stern meines Herzens, I could never be disappointed in you. You have your own path to take...if it's not the same as theirs, then so be it. There's no shame." She leads him to a clearing and points upward, telling him to look. Colors glow and swirl in the darkening sky. Louis: "What is it...?" Ilse: "The Northern Lights. The scientists call it the aurora borealis." Louis: "What makes it do that?" Ilse: "No one's quite sure yet. The scientists have their theories; maybe someday one of them will finally figure it out." *pause* "There are old stories though, folk stories, that try to explain them." Louis: "Folk stories...?" Ilse: "An old story says the lights are the souls of our ancestors, those who've left us...on dark nights when it's still...they come out to look down at us, and let us know they still watch over us...and they like when we look up at them, so they wear their finest clothes, and they dance a waltz. See...?" For a while, mother and son gaze at the aurora, comparing the lights to themselves--a flashy, rapidly moving light is Horst, for example, while a more muted, steadier light off to the periphery is Louis--before heading home to meet the others following their hunt. Over the years, Ilse learns how to better handle Louis's social sensitivities to help him maintain his boundaries without feeling excluded, though she does make a false step here and there, such as when she conspires with Frau von Thiel in hopes of setting Louis up with her daughter, Katharina; turns out Louis and Katharina are merely good friends without any romantic feelings for each other, and Ilse learns the hard way that you can't force romance, and if you try to push someone like Louis they just stubbornly double down on their standoffishness. The humiliating fallout of this incident is outlined HERE; Ilse apologizes for her mistake, though Louis's fatalistic response that perhaps he's just meant to be alone, and nothing can change that, makes her heart hurt. She hopes that he's wrong about that, at least. Louis and Katharina do grow closer, but merely in a brotherly/sisterly fashion, following the loss of Katharina's family in a fire; the von Dobermanns take in Katharina and her remaining help staff and she and Louis become nearly inseparable as he helps her through her grief. Ilse notices how often, Louis makes his best points without even saying a word; he's a skilled listener, and often that's all that's needed to resolve an issue. Katharina, in turn, seems to understand and accept his need for distance from others; she encourages him to accompany her when she socializes, yet never pushes him into interacting when he doesn't wish to. Ilse learns a few things watching the two teenagers at the occasional large Junker gatherings where the noble families reestablish old ties and forge new ones. When Katharina is present, Louis finally moves away from his corners and his spots near exits; she seems to lend him courage he otherwise lacks. Ilse worries sometimes that he'll become too dependent on Katharina's influence, though as it turns out, that never has a chance to happen. Katharina eventually semi-parts ways with the von Dobermanns, returning to her nearby home (she's their closest neighbor) once the fire damage is fixed; she declines their offer to stay with them indefinitely, insisting that, as the last von Thiel, it's time for her to grow up and accept her place. Ilse notices a subtle shift in Louis's attitude after Katharina leaves; he grows even quieter and more introspective, spending much of his time browsing the old family records or staring out the windows across the von Dobermann land. Ilse of course mistakes this for sadness over Katharina's departure from the household, yet when she tentatively asks him about it, he insists he's fine and he's not upset about her leaving, though he does admit that it's gotten him thinking about things. Ilse gently asks what he means. It's a little while before Louis replies, obviously choosing his words very carefully: "I've just been wondering, what is my place, my role in the family. She found hers, though she had no real choice. I have a choice...yet I'm not sure what it is." Ilse asks if there's anything she can do to help; Louis declines, though he makes sure she knows it isn't anything personal: "I think this is something I have to find out on my own." He reassures her she has nothing to worry about; whatever he decides, he'll be fine. He pauses before adding, "You helped me get here." He never makes such comments lightly, so Ilse is touched that he said it at all, and she gives him his space. Horst returns breathless from a visit to the city one day, face pale and newspaper in hand; he unfolds it to show the others seated in the parlor. The Archduke of Austria has been assassinated. "It's all everyone in the city is talking about," he says as they peruse the paper in shock. "They think war could break out any day." Rudolf and Ewald start discussing plans to get the estate farm more operational and strengthen communication with the other Junkers so they won't have to deal with supply chain issues in the event of rationing, and they depart. Horst says he'll start reaching out to their neighbors for further news and also leaves. "Perhaps it's not so bad," Ilse tries to convince herself. "There's no war yet, maybe there won't be. Maybe cooler heads will prevail." Still, she suddenly doesn't feel well--"It must be this heat"--and lies down on the couch. Louis is left staring at the paper with a pensive look on his face. "Do you think it's a sign...?" he murmurs; "What...?" Ilse asks, but Louis just shakes his head. "Nothing," he replies. Ilse is preoccupied with her thoughts for the next few days, and Louis doesn't make his plans known, so she's unaware of what he gets up to in the meantime. He spends a long night sleepless, staring at the canopy and thinking. He goes to visit Katharina, tells her the conclusion he's reached, and asks for her advice; she declines to give any, telling him that this is a decision he has to make on his own: "You won't always have someone there to help you decide." He then asks if she thinks he's foolish. "You're the least foolish person I know," she says, "which is how I know you'll make the right decision." She hugs him before he leaves, whispering in his ear, "You'd better write to me, or I'll track you down myself." The next day, Louis asks Horst if he can borrow his car to drive into the city; he returns later that afternoon, seeming nervous but resolved. He tells his parents that he's enlisted in the army. They stare at him in silence for a moment, stunned; Ilse is of course the one to speak up first. "Louis," she exclaims, "the army...? You? But...you can hardly even pick up a gun. You haven't a violent bone in your body! You, a soldier--? How would you handle it? What would you do...?" Even as she entreats him, she can see the stubborn look enter his eyes, and knows she's losing him. "Ilse," Rudolf says, touching her shoulder, "give him a moment to explain himself, ja? Let him speak." But also: "Louis. Are you sure of this...? This is a very serious decision, are you sure you've thought it through...?" Ilse bites her tongue. Seeing that they're willing to let him explain, Louis does so. Ilse had reassured him that whatever path he chose would be his to take; well, this is the one. It's a longstanding custom for the younger son in Junker families to enter the army while the older son stays to carry on the family line; he feels he can do more good this way rather than sitting at home. He'd already been pondering this option in the days following Katharina's return to her home (thus all his poring over the old family records, reading the accounts of all the soldier-ancestors who'd gone before), but the news Horst brought finally decided him. Louis isn't typically a superstitious sort, he's pretty agnostic, but this dreadful news arriving when it had seemed almost like a sign. He'd watched Katharina grow up and move on on her own, taking responsibility for her own life and forging her own path; well...now it's time for him to do the same. Rudolf offers no argument. Ilse desperately wants to, yet knows it'll do no good; she's never seen him so certain of anything in his life, and the irony is that she's the one who taught him this. Sensing that they need the time, Rudolf excuses himself to go inform Horst and Ewald, leaving mother and son alone. There's a long silence. Louis: "You're disappointed." Ilse: *wearily* "Nein...not disappointed, mein Stern." Louis: "It's childish, but I'd hoped you would be proud of me." Ilse: "I am, Louis, I'm always proud of you, you know that." Louis: "Yet you don't seem so, now." Ilse: "It isn't that. I just...I wish you'd found some other way." Louis: "What other way? This is the way." Ilse: "But how do you know--? How can you be sure--?" Louis: "How can you ever be completely sure of anything? If I sit around waiting for the answer to come without any doubt, I'll be sitting forever. Sometimes, you have to take a leap. You have to face what you don't know. Katharina did." Ilse: *exasperated* "Katharina!" Louis: "And you, you'll tell me you never once took a risk--? Your whole life has been facing what you don't know, unafraid. Horst's life, Vater, Uncle Ewald. You've all gone through life unafraid. When I was little you tried to convince me to do the same. And now when I do, you ask me to find some other way...?" Ilse: "Liebe, we've NEVER gone through life unafraid. To do so is foolish! We were afraid but acted anyway, in spite of it." Louis: "And that's exactly it. Maybe I don't know everything I'm getting into, but I'm doing it anyway. That's how you move forward, ja? At some point, every ancestor took a leap." Ilse: "Not every ancestor! Some didn't fight. Some started families." Louis: "Starting a family is a leap. It takes courage. Doesn't it?" *Ilse is silent* "That doesn't look like the path that's open to me. And I accept that. Horst can take that path, if he wishes. He's the eldest; the family line goes through him. This, this is my path. I've thought it through. I'm afraid, ja, I admit it. But you just said. It's foolish to go through life completely unafraid. Just as foolish as letting the fear keep you stuck in one place. You told me to find my own path. I think I've found it. If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. But how else am I supposed to find out...?" Ilse: *long silence, eyes downcast* "My heart aches, Louis, wondering how you're going to handle it. You're not a soldier. Taking up a gun seems to be against everything you stand for." Louis: "I don't even know what I stand for, aside from our family. But if this is what it takes to keep you safe..." *trails off; they both look at each other* "You've all always watched over me. Now it's my turn to watch over you. If you were in my place, wouldn't you do the same?" Realizing that Louis's choice has very little to do with nationalist pride, and everything to do with ensuring the family stays safe, Ilse has nothing left to say. She's heartbroken, but accepts his decision, understanding the role she herself played in him reaching it. He assures her not to worry about how he'll handle combat or even just the everyday experiences of interacting with his fellow soldiers: "I'll figure it out, you prepared me for that." The whole family accompanies him to the train station to see him off; Ilse presses a small gold ring into his hand although he protests, "Mutter, a woman's ring--?" "To remind you," she explains; "to remind you to come home to us." She embraces him--"I'm so proud of you, always," she whispers so only he can hear--then stands back with Rudolf's hand on her shoulder and tears in her eyes as Louis boards the train. He peers out the window at them and holds his hand up to the glass; the rest of the von Dobermanns raise their hands to wave goodbye, and Ilse's eyes finally spill over as the train carries her baby boy away to training. A month later, Germany goes to war. Ilse agonizes over the papers. These are the only real means of updates, and they're of course always out of date by the time they hit the shelves. She--and Katharina--practically fall upon the first letters Louis sends them from the Western Front. Surprisingly, he finds himself quite suited to military discipline; although he still isn't big on socializing, he handles group interactions well, as long as he has his orders and knows what he's expected to do. He hasn't seen any real combat yet, though he expects that to change soon. He's about as terse in writing as he is when speaking, so the letters aren't especially lengthy, though both women cherish any word they can get from him. Ilse tells herself to prepare for very long waits in between communications, and tries her hardest to be patient and keep herself busy in the meantime; this includes tending to the plants in the household's solarium. Louis always loved the solarium, especially the large ash tree at its center, extending up through the different stories of the house. Ilse hopes for the war to end and Louis to return soon so they can wander among the greenery again. The Great War drags on for four long years. Louis never has the chance to return home even for a brief visit; despite Ilse's and his own doubts, he repeatedly proves himself and quickly rises through the ranks, becoming a Hauptmann, or captain. This leaves him little free time, meaning he sends fewer letters as well. Ilse has the impression that the war is wearing on him but he doesn't wish to complain; she reassures him in her own, more frequent letters, which he lets her know he appreciates, even if he can't always respond. She still can't help but worry about him, but she's exceptionally proud of his accomplishments, especially when she remembers the way he flinched at the mere sound of gunshots on the hunt so long ago. "My baby boy has grown up," she murmurs to Rudolf as they sit in the parlor reading his latest letter. Horst and Ewald continue their visits to the city for news. Ewald is dull and listless following one visit, and heads to bed early. He develops a fever, then a cough. Shortly after, Rudolf, who hadn't been to the city, comes down with the same symptoms. Horst and Ilse put them both to bed and tend to them, their alarm slowly growing as members of the help staff and farm start falling ill in quick succession. Ilse, sleeping separately from Rudolf now, wakes one morning with a distinct chill and knows that whatever it is, she's caught it, too. She still feels well enough to get around, though, and they're starting to run short handed, so she and Horst keep seeing to the others. They put on cloth masks while doing so, casting each other fearful looks; the papers, upon Horst's and Ewald's last visit, had been reporting on some sort of nasty bug making the rounds, but they hadn't had any reason to think it would make its way out here. Ewald got sick so very fast. Ewald's and Rudolf's health deteriorates rapidly; they can hardly stop coughing, and keep gasping for breath. Ilse develops a cough too, and Horst calls a doctor they know. He says he can't come out to the estate--the illness is already tearing through the city, and they need all the help they can get--so if they need to see him, they'll have to come back to the city. Katharina stops by; Ilse has a member of the help staff inform her through the door that nobody's well enough to see her, and they don't want her getting sick as well, so she heads back home. Ilse hopes that they can simply recover at home, but while tending to the others she notices the flush in Horst's face and presses her hand to his forehead--"You're burning up!" she exclaims in alarm--and finally decides they have to head to the city. Horst, still the best off of the four of them, insists on driving them there, and they manage to bundle the coughing and wheezing Rudolf and Ewald into the back seat. He promises the chief of the help staff he'll return as soon as he can to pick up the staff members in the worst shape and transport them to the city as well; helps his gasping mother into the front passenger seat; then speeds off toward the city as fast as the car can go. It takes over an hour to reach the city and the hospital, which is alarmingly busy with scores of hacking, blue-lipped patients. Ilse frets that they'll never get help but Horst manages to locate the doctor, frantically directing him to the car--"My Vater, my uncle, they're dreadfully ill, my Mutter isn't doing so well, bitte, help them"--then collapses. All four of the von Dobermanns are carried inside on stretchers, only Ilse half conscious by now, and put to bed. Ilse swims in and out of consciousness for a time before she awakes, hot and cold and coughing, struggling to breathe. All that happened suddenly hit her all at once and the force of the realization woke her. She asks where her family is, what's going on. The doctor, wearing a mask, fills her in: She and her entire family have caught the flu. "Flu--?" Ilse gasps, confused. This doesn't feel like any flu she's ever had before. Additionally, the doctor informs her, Ewald, Rudolf, and she have developed pneumonia. As for Horst, he doesn't have pneumonia, but the virus seems to have hit him quickest and hardest of all; his blood pressure has plummeted, his fever has skyrocketed, and he's delirious. None of it makes any sense to Ilse--it's just the flu, all of them are healthy, especially Horst, all he had was a fever, he drove them there, how did this happen so fast--? The doctor starts to explain that this is an especially awful flu that's been sweeping through the army and multiple countries; unlike other flus, it seems to be targeting younger, healthy people like Horst, turning their own immune responses against them. There have been multiple reports of people waking up with a slight cough...and dropping dead by nightfall. Normally, this would be more than enough to alarm Ilse and make her demand to see Horst...but partway through the doctor's explanation she starts swooning, and again loses consciousness. Then, deep in her fever dreams, her lungs heavy, she finds herself swimming through smoke--flails her arms to try to clear it away so she can breathe--and instead of a hospital room, she's standing in a watery trench, surrounded by skeletal trees, mud, and barbed wire. A soldier so covered in mud and dirt and blood that only his eyes are still white blinks at her, confused--"Mutter?" he says--and Ilse gasps herself awake before breaking down coughing. The doctor and nurses appear, grasping at her arms when she flails and tries to pull herself out of the bed. What the doctor had said earlier--about the illness sweeping through the army--finally hits home. She can't remember the last time she got a letter from Louis. "My boy!" she gasps. "My baby boy...where's my boy? Where's my son?" "He's here," the doctor reassures her. "He's in another room. In another bed. He's here." But Ilse shakes her head--"Nein, nein, that can't be, my baby boy is in the army! Where is he?--where's my son...?" She wants to tell them--she's not talking about Horst, she's talking about Louis--her baby boy, in the army--where is he, is he sick too, or is he safe?--she hasn't gotten a letter in ages, is he sick?--is he well?--can they find him? She doesn't want him to return home and not know where everyone is. She can't bear for him to be all alone. She can't form the words to say all this, though, as the coughing and then the fever set back in. "Poor woman is delirious, she thinks her son's in the army," she dimly hears the doctor murmur, and, realizing that they have no idea she even has another son--that's right, he always kept to himself, he's easily forgotten--she wants to yell, Louis, Louis, Louis!--where is my Louis?...but is too far gone to do so. She loses consciousness yet again. Ewald dies first, then Rudolf, both of them coughing and drowning in their own lungs. Horst goes next, the cytokine storm too much for his body to handle. Ilse holds on as long as she can, still crying for Louis--"My baby boy, my baby boy is in the army"--before the flu takes her as well. Within days of entering the hospital, in the blink of an eye, the von Dobermann family is snuffed out. The chief of the help staff, heartbroken, sends out a telegram and a letter which he expects will get nowhere, as the war grinds to an end and Germany surrenders and the army is thrown into chaos; all that's left is for those who are left behind to mourn the dead. A pall settles over the von Dobermann estate; the world slowly, wearily trudges on. And then, one day weeks later, the hospital director and the mayor receive telegrams: Massive monetary donations have been sent to the hospital and the city, to help combat the pandemic. The telegrams bear the name L DOBERMANN. [Ilse von Dobermann 2023 [Friday, October 27, 2023, 3:00:47 AM]] |