WH 2

WH 2 is WH 1’s son, a patient political fixer, and an unexpectedly solitary drinker. As his family’s shipping business faces collapse, he pursues one final act of repair: persuading Hamburg’s maritime establishment to rehabilitate his father after two decades of social exclusion. He succeeds, but his story’s quieter counterpoint lies at the Zum Goldenen Handschuh, where the well-connected shipping advocate returns every few weeks to get drunk among people who do not know who he is.

Identity and Purpose

WH 2’s campaign for his father is not merely a matter of business or family reputation. With WH 1 nearing the end of his life, he wants a unanimous, official absolution that might make reconciliation possible before it is too late. The effort brings out feelings he himself seems not to have recognized: solidarity, and almost pity, for a broken man still being punished for old mistakes. The narrative presents this wish to do something good as a surprising departure for WH 2, not as a quality he has long displayed.

For nearly a year, he patiently cultivates the people whose support could make the decision possible. Among them are Peter Marquardt, chairman of Verein Deutscher Reeder; maritime coordinators Ernst von Telkow and Raimer Moritz, responsible for lobbying in Bonn; and Peter Vossbuhr, head of Vereinigung Hamburger Schiffsmakler und Schiffsagenten. These are not casual acquaintances enlisted at the last moment: WH 2 has spent months working to bring the decision-makers around, leaving Gerhard Leyendieker as the final person he must convince.

The Campaign for WH 1

Gerhard Leyendieker and WH 1 were born in 1895, attended the same school, and were once friends. Their connection later deteriorated into rivalry and estrangement. The breach is not mutual in the same way: Leyendieker regards WH 1 as no longer part of his life, while WH 1 hates him with all the force still available to him. WH 2 must therefore secure the agreement of a man who once knew his father closely but has since withdrawn recognition altogether.

At the gathering on the Süllberg, Leyendieker is speaking with Bertram Theissen, the chairman of Hapag Lloyd. The two men cannot stand one another, and their loud performance of geniality disguises genuine bitterness. WH 2 waits behind them for Leyendieker to address him. When Theissen, already heavily drunk, gives way and leaves, WH 2 finally gets his chance. Leyendieker agrees to the rehabilitation, declaring that it is time to bury the hatchet and that any offense can eventually be atoned for. He adopts the manner of a magnanimous, softened elder, a pose that makes the reconciliation sound like his gift to the family.

They agree that WH 1’s approaching eightieth birthday will provide the right occasion to announce the decision, and that Leyendieker himself will deliver the news. The private audience ends abruptly: Leyendieker turns away and leaves WH 2 standing. The agreement is real, but so is the old hierarchy between them. WH 2 has won the support he needed without recovering any personal warmth from the man who granted it.

The Other Life at the Zum Goldenen Handschuh

After leaving the Süllberg by a rear entrance, WH 2 takes a waiting taxi to the Zum Goldenen Handschuh. He has arrived there before in the aftermath of a shipping-industry dinner, so drunk that he had not known such pubs existed. The world of shooting festivals, beer tents, and free drink is equally unfamiliar to him. Yet he begins returning every few weeks, treating the bar as a place where he can take time out by getting thoroughly drunk and remain unknown.

The name he uses is Ernst vom Katasteramt. It comes about because, after his second or third visit, Herbert asks him what he is called, and WH 2 has no better answer ready. Unlike the bar’s earned nicknames, this one costs him nothing. It gives him a modest disguise in a room where he has no public standing to defend.

At first, he tries to talk. He tells one regular that a modern container ship contains ten times as much electronics as a passenger aircraft, but the man does not understand a word. On another occasion, WH 2 explains to Anus that loading and unloading a freighter used to take a week, while a container ship can now exchange eight thousand containers in sixteen hours. The explanation produces no response. He concludes that conversation is pointless, and, in any case, he prefers it that way. His expertise, valuable in the shipping world, has no currency in the bar; the silence that follows each lesson helps make this other life separate from his professional one.

He takes a seat, lays a fifty-mark note on the counter, and receives a bottle of Linie-Aquavit that Herbert keeps especially for him. WH 2 cannot stomach the Kümmerling, Underberg, Jägermeister, or other drinks favored by the bar’s regulars. He says he likes being among the broken, mad, homeless, disabled, and drunk, and entertains the thought that he may soon belong among them. The carefully cultivated family negotiator thus chooses a company in which no one needs to be persuaded, and where no one recognizes his name.

Hosting and the Interrupted Celebration

At WH 1’s birthday gathering, WH 2 continues to act as host, steering the conversation through questions about the new federal president, the age of majority, terrorism, and the possibility of another oil crisis. He finds the talk dull, lacking imagination and wit, and is annoyed by his brother-in-law’s passivity. WH 2 knows how to keep a gathering moving, but the role does not mean he is inwardly engaged with it; the family celebration’s predictable conversation stands opposite the anonymous bar he has made his refuge.

The evening is also disrupted by August’s worsening condition. As Gunter tries to discuss the new ship-manning and training regulations, August collapses with a loud rasp. The later call from the hospital establishes that it was not the feared heart attack but a seizure, and that he can be discharged the next day. Even so, the celebration is over. WH 2 has brought the family through the public reconciliation and carried on as host, but he cannot keep the occasion intact. His character is defined by that split: he can patiently arrange the conditions for a father’s belated recognition, while seeking, elsewhere, the oblivion of a bottle and the anonymity of people who have no use for his standing or his expertise.