War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 129

Chapter 13

A

fter returning to the farm, Katrina prepared the crayfish to eat with the salad, while Richard chopped wood for the range.

“Dinner is ready,” she called out.

“Coming,” he shouted back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

He looked at Katrina and how she gracefully set the table and thought she was the most beautiful girl on earth. It was impressive how she managed to prepare filling, delicious meals day after day from not much more than wild plants and trapped animals. Some days, like today, she added an egg or two from the two remaining hens.

“This tastes so good, Katrina, I don’t know how you do it,” Richard said, spearing another bite on his fork. “Reminds me of home. You’d love my mother and sisters. Maybe one day we can all be together.” Usually he forbade himself thoughts of the future; everything seemed too bleak and uncertain.

“How could I not love your family, Richard?” Katrina replied. “I never had sisters. What a joy it would be to have not one, but three sisters.” She noticed the frown of sorrow on his forehead and put her hand over his. “We have to have faith.”

“I do. Sometimes. But other times…” Richard broke off. It didn’t make sense to burden her with his qualms. “You remind me so much of my sister Lotte. Strong-willed and stubborn as a mule.”

“Is that so?” Katrina laughed.

A heavy knock on the door interrupted them and they looked at each other with anxiety in their eyes. These days, visitors were rarely friends.

“Hurry, hide in the lumber room,” Katrina said and pushed him toward the hidden trap door.

Richard wanted to protest. Since when did he need to be protected by a woman? It should be the other way around. But she knew him well enough and gave him a stern glance, together with a wave of her hand, before she closed the trap door behind him. The incessant pounding continued as she walked toward the front door to open it.

Huddled in the tiny place beneath the kitchen floor, Richard strained his ears and soon enough heard footsteps. Light ones. That was Katrina. Heavy ones. A man. With boots. And another set of heavy footsteps. The rhythm sounded familiar. A German voice. Soldiers.

Trapped in the hideout, unable to open the door from the inside, he balled his hands into fists. If the German soldiers wanted to harm Katrina, there was nothing he could do but wait and listen.

And pray.

The voice explained they had come to requisition food. A sigh escaped his throat. Two soldiers and a beautiful girl alone – it could have been worse. This kind of random requisitioning wasn’t officially allowed and a soldier caught doing it would be thrown into the lock-up for their trouble. But who would dare to report them? Certainly not the Polish civilians. They didn’t go near the barracks or the administrative headquarters without being summoned.

Light footsteps again, followed by the heavy ones. Frantic squawking. Flapping of wings. A satisfied braying laughter. Opening and closing of cupboards. Voices, where he couldn’t understand the words. Footsteps. The heavy front door slamming. Silence.

Several long moments later, Katrina returned and opened the trap door. He climbed out and took her into his arms.

“They took the chickens, the rabbits, and all the potatoes.” She didn’t cry, but he could feel her small body trembling with despair – and rage.

“We’ll make do. Somehow,” Richard assured her, although he had no idea how they were to eat with the stock of potatoes gone. And the chickens that reliably laid several eggs each week.

When he looked up, he saw the boy, Tadzio, standing in a confrontational pose, aiming his slingshot at him. Richard froze in shock. Katrina must have noticed, because she turned in his arms.

“Tadzio! Don’t. He’s a friend.”

The boy didn’t seem convinced and kept his rigid stance. “I heard the crazed hens squawking and saw the Germans, so I came here to check on you.”

Katrina slipped out of Richard’s embrace and approached the boy to press a kiss on his forehead. “Thank you so much, big man. The soldiers are gone. They took our animals and a sack of potatoes.”

“Shall I go after them?” Tadzio asked, broadening his stance, completely convinced an eleven-year old equipped with a slingshot could take it up with two grown – and armed – men.

“No. We’d better not stir up a ruckus, don’t you think?” Katrina put a hand on his arm. “I’m so thankful that you look out for me.”

Tadzio beamed with pride, but then his glance fell upon Richard and his expression darkened. “Who’s that? I’ve never seen him before.”

“This is Richard,” Katrina answered without thinking.

“Richard?” Tadzio spat out the name. “A German? How can you make common cause with

them

?”

“It’s not like that.” Katrina looked frantically between the two males. “He saved my life, back in Baluty. If it had not been for Richard, I would not be alive today.”

Tadzio squinted his eyebrows. “That doesn’t explain why he’s here.”

Richard stepped up. “My train was derailed when the tunnel exploded–”

“That was a good job done by our boys.” Tadzio beamed again.

“It was,” Richard had to admit. “I was wounded and destined to be hanged.” Tadzio scrunched up his nose at the mention. “Katrina saved me, and nursed me back to health. I decided to stay and help her run the farm.”

Tadzio cocked his head. “That would make you…a Wehrmacht soldier?” The boy hopped up and down, “Oh my God! You’re a deserter! A German deserter. Now I know we will win this war for sure.”

Both Richard and Katrina had to chuckle. For a child, things were either black or white. The complications of the infinite gray tones in between only came with adulthood.

“You won’t turn him in, will you?” Katrina begged.

“I don’t think I will.” Tadzio put on a serious face, before he continued, “As long as he doesn’t harm you. If he does, let me know and he’s history.”

“I promise never to hurt Katrina,” Richard said, stretching out his hand to the boy. Tadzio shook it and looked very pleased with himself.

It hadn’t been

easy after the chicken fiasco, but looking at the bright side, Richard had come to like Tadzio. They bonded like brothers and spent much of their time together doing odd jobs around the farm, for which Katrina always rewarded the boy with food to bring home to his mother and two sisters. Since his father had been killed in battle, Tadzio was the man of the house and did his best to provide for his family.

Katrina and Richard were spading the field behind the farm, a grueling task that had been done with an ox before the war. Sweat dripped from Richard’s forehead and ran down his back in rivulets. He straightened his spine and looked up into the spring sun. The blazing orb stayed high in the sky and burned down on them with an unexpected force. For a fleeting moment he wished for the chilly winter gusts.

He gulped down a bowl of water from the well and then offered some to Katrina. She straightened her back, giving him one of her beautiful smiles, and, like it always did, his heart missed a beat. This beautiful woman looked so delicate, but she had the strength and resilience of an ox. He couldn’t resist and pulled her into an embrace that ended in a heated kiss.

“We need to continue.” She sighed, slipping out of his arms. It was high time to sow and plant the field if they wanted to eat this coming winter. Richard had never before appreciated how hard farmers worked and how their lives revolved around the seasons of the year. In Berlin two days of rain meant the nuisance of wet feet and muddy streets, but here it could mean the difference between food or starvation.

“Yes.” He took the bar spade with his blistered, hurting hands and dug into the earth again. Katrina followed in his trail, sowing, planting, watering.

Hours later, a figure appeared, walking down the road to the farmhouse. Richard stopped his work for a moment to squint his eyes at the visitor. “It’s Tadzio,” he said with relief.

The boy came rushing into the backyard, waving one hand, while the other one held tight onto a sack over his shoulder. “I was at the crossroads all day selling berries to passers-by and I heard interesting accounts about the war. It seems it’s just a matter of months, days in fact, before a cease-fire is going to be declared.”

“Selling berries?” Richard laughed. “You’re such an optimist, Tadzio. Who has money to buy berries here? As for the rumors, don’t believe a word you hear.”

“People do stop and give me a few pennies for my fruit,” Tadzio said with a self-important expression on his face.

“How much did you earn?” Katrina giggled at the audacity of the young boy.

“Enough to buy these two from the man who had his baskets where I sat.” Tadzio grinned and opened the sack. “For you, Katrina.” He added shyly and Richard acknowledged that he wasn’t the only one enamored with the lovely girl.

“Chickens,” Katrina exclaimed and grabbed the frenzied hen to set it into the empty enclosure. “Thank you so much, but you should have used your money to buy food for your mom.”

A sly grin crossed his face. “I bought two, and I give you one in exchange for taking good care of my hen and giving me her egg‚s.”

“It’s a deal then,” Katrina shook his hand. She knew that Tadzio’s house and garden were much too small to raise a hen, while she had the space. “You’re the best little brother in the world.” Her compliment thrilled the innocent youngster, who blushed a bright red and shrugged awkwardly.

“You will forget about me when your real brothers come back,” he said, his eyes misting up.

Richard knew that Katrina was anxiously awaiting news about Stanislaw and Jarek, since she hadn’t heard anything of them for weeks now. He put his arms around her. “Your brothers are going to show up soon. I bet they are just fine.”

“They’ve never been away for such a long time. Ever since they blew up the train tunnel–” She clapped a hand in front of her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. They’re just doing what they must. We all do awful things in this war.” Richard swallowed. He’d long suspected that the tunnel explosion had been the work of the resistance, but hearing that Katrina’s own brothers were involved in killing his comrades clutched at his heart. Karl entered his mind, and tears threatened to spill. But he wouldn’t allow himself the weakness of weeping in front of a woman and a boy.

Then another, frightening, thought entered his mind. What would happen if her brothers indeed showed up at the house? They would not be pleased to find a German there.