War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 139

Chapter 23

R

ichard sat in the midwife’s small but cozy salon, a cup of herb tea in his hand. The salon was equipped with a couch, a small coffee table, and two chairs. The furniture was old, but well kept. The walls were beautifully adorned with pictures of mothers and their newborns, scribbled notes of thanks, and paintings of Lodz.

“Please call me Magda, everyone else does,” she said, sitting on the couch opposite to him. She had the rare gift of making anyone around her feel at ease, welcome, and appreciated.

“Thank you, Magda. I appreciate your kindness.” He glanced at her, hoping it had been the right decision to come here. She wouldn’t betray him – he hoped. But he didn’t want to cause her problems either.

“So what brings you here?” she asked, eyeing him with curiosity.

Richard gave a deep sigh, avoiding her scrutinizing glance. “It is…we…we couldn’t come up with a plan. We thought about a hundred different ways, but none would work. We can either save the boy or his aunt, but both of them, next to impossible.” He rubbed his scruff. One night out in the woods and he probably looked as dirty as he felt. “Sorry for my appearance. I arrived after curfew last night.”

“Oh, that darn curfew.” Angry glints lit up her eyes as she continued, “Those Germans seem to think that babies adhere to a schedule and are born only during office hours. Since the wife of a high-ranking Nazi almost died during delivery, because I was delayed by a patrol, I have a special pass to go about my work after curfew. But the people coming for my help don’t. We’ll all be so much happier when they’re finally gone.”

A slight shiver raked down his spine. Despite the midwife’s kindness, she obviously hated the German occupiers as much as the next person did. And that included him.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with your endeavor. As I already said, I can smuggle messages in and out of the Ghetto, but not much more,” Magda said, sipping the tea. “Why are you really here?”

Shame crossed Richard’s face as he remembered Katrina’s outburst. “We had a row, Katrina and I, and I thought it best to leave. It’s safer for her. My presence at the farm will sooner or later cause unwanted enquiries.”

Magda, like many Poles living in this region, had grown up bilingual and she effortlessly switched from Polish to German, “…because despite your peasant garb and fluent Polish you’re not really a cousin from up North. I’ve been there, and the accent is distinct from yours.” It didn’t make sense to lie to her, not if he wanted to enlist her help.

“I believe you already guessed it. I’m one of the abhorred Germans. A Wehrmacht soldier. A deserter. A man wanted on both sides. When I left Katrina, I realized I had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Partisans picked me up and the only name that came to my mind was yours. Please forgive me for endangering you. I should leave,” he said, tired, and put his cup on the coffee table.

“Don’t,” Magda said, putting a hand on his arm. “My job is to bring life into this world. How could I risk yours by sending you away? Eat some and then sleep. We’ll talk in the evening.”

Richard nodded and ate the

Pierogi

, vegetable-filled dumplings she put in front of him. Then he settled to sleep in the corner of the room, while Magda left to visit her clients. When she returned in the evening, Richard felt as if born again. A sound six hours of shut-eye, food, and a wash and shave had worked wonders not only on his looks but also on his mood.

The row with Katrina remained weighing heavy on his mind. As much as he believed his leaving to be for the best, he hated the way they had parted. Magda must have picked up on his sadness, because she said, “You should return to the farm. I know love when I see it, and you and Katrina Zdanek are clearly in love.”

“It’s for the best. She’ll be better off without me,” Richard insisted.

“There’s so little affection in the world these days and life itself is so tenuous. Love should be held tightly and treasured. It’s what keeps us going when the world seems bleak. It fills our hearts with hope and our souls with courage to fight on when defeat seems inevitable. Only love can move mountains and make miracles happen. I experience this every day in my work.”

“She doesn’t want me anymore.”

“My son, when you grow as old as I am you’ll discover the error of your ways. This girl is young and confused. She bears the burden of so many losses on her shoulders and still helps those prepared to fight for our country, God bless her. But it’s taking a toll on her and it’s only natural to blame you for all she has suffered at the hands of Germans in time of great distress. Put yourself in her place, and if you love her as you say, help her walk through her ordeal of loss instead of running away like a coward. Be a man; be the bigger person and go back to her. I know she will welcome you with open arms.”

“I’m not…” Richard balled his hands into fists. …

a coward

. Or was he? Maybe leaving turned him into a greater coward than staying. “I can’t return until I’ve proven my loyalty to her. And I intend to do that by rescuing Janusz and Agnieska. I must do this to gain Katrina’s respect. Her brother Stan despises me and I would like to earn his respect, too. I would like to be treated as a friend instead of a fiendish foe.”

“I can see you are a gentle soul,” the midwife replied. “I, too, would much rather save a life than destroy it. I will help you, and I pray your efforts are successful. Let’s go to the kitchen and make

Pierogi

; cooking always helps me to relax my mind.“ Richard followed her into the kitchen and watched her work, while they chatted of this and that, trying to come up with ideas how to save Katrina’s family.

Richard noticed the medical bag standing by the front door, always ready in case a woman in labor needed urgent assistance. Beside it hung her overcoat and a hat. Magda washed her hands after kneading the dough. An annoying trickle penetrated his mind and he glanced around to find the source of the noise. A dripping faucet.

“It’s been dripping for weeks,” Magda said with a shrug.

“May I try to fix it?” he asked.

“Feel free. There’s a toolbox beneath the sink.”

Richard found the toolbox and started working on the faucet. At least he could be of some help to the woman who’d so generously received him in her house. Once done with the faucet, he dedicated his attention to a rickety shelf. It was obvious that there was no man in the house.

“What about your family?” he asked, glancing around for more things needing repair.

“My four children are all grown up, living with their own families. And my husband has been forced to work in the Reich. Haven’t heard from him in a while…” She shrugged, apparently trying to make the nostalgia go away. “I’m usually too busy to worry. You’d think that during war, fewer children are born, but no. It’s quite the opposite.”

The word

children

caused the wheels in his brain to turn. “What do you know about the Kinder KZ?” Richard asked.

“I’ve never been there myself, although it’s separated from the Ghetto only by a wooden fence. Why do you ask?”

“Recently, a neighbor, Mrs. Kozlow, came to borrow the farm’s heavy shears and she works in the Kinder KZ.”

“Tekla Koszlow?” Magda grimaced. “I know her well, since I delivered her five babies. The woman doesn’t have an ounce of integrity or compassion in her body. All she cares about are her own interests. I can just imagine how she enjoys working there.”

Richard had gotten the same impression when he’d first met Mrs. Koszlow a few days ago, but chose not to discuss her character traits, “Mrs. Kozlow mentioned that the camp isn’t well guarded. Not like the Ghetto or the camps for adults.”

“Go on,” the midwife encouraged him, as she formed the dough into crescent-shaped pieces.

“If Janusz can sneak into the children’s camp–”

“He’d jump out of the frying pan and into the fire,” Magda interrupted him, stuffing the dough pieces with herbs and mashed potatoes.

“I have heard that children with Nordic features are selected for Germanization and sent to adoption into the Reich. Perhaps Janusz…”

“Little Jan?” The midwife laughed. “He has the high cheekbones and dark eyes of his mother, a beautiful woman by the way. He looks like a poster child for the Slav race. That is when I saw him last about four years ago. Furthermore, his presence there would cause ten kinds of questions. You as a German should know how meticulous your countrymen are keeping lists of everything,” Magda said, expertly folding the dough into the dumplings called

Pierogi.

Richard felt his spirits sink and momentarily he doubted his fitness to shoulder the huge responsibility he had taken on. He hadn’t thought about that part. Even if they took Janusz for Germanization they’d soon start asking questions about his origin. It wouldn’t take long until someone recognized him. For a while Richard watched Magda working in silence as she boiled water on the range.

“So if he’s not on any of their lists, nobody will notice when he goes missing, right?” Richard thought out loud.

Magda nodded.

“You said the Kinder KZ is separated from the Ghetto by a flimsy wooden fence. If he can somehow sneak into the camp at night, then early in the morning I can go there, posing as an official from the Racial Institute, pick out Janusz, and leave with him.”

“You? In that peasant garb? They’d shoot you before you had a chance to utter a single word.” Magda put the dumplings into the boiling water. “Dinner is almost ready. Would you help me set the table please?”

Richard nodded, and carried the dishes over to the small kitchen table. “I still have my uniform. I’ve been hiding it in the woods before coming to your house.”

“More astute than I’ve given you credit for,” she said with a smile. “Of course with your Wehrmacht uniform it might just work. The sentries are Polish and they probably won’t dare question you.”

Richard’s brain raced a mile a minute, searching for a viable rescue option, while he stuffed

Pierogi

into his mouth. “Those are delicious; best I’ve ever eaten,” he said.

“It’s a recipe handed down for generations in my family.” Magda beamed with pride and ate a piece herself. “There’s just one problem. How will you even find Jan?”

“Uhmmm…I haven’t considered that,” he said. According to Mrs. Koszlow, at any given time close to two thousand children lived and worked in the camp. Looking for one boy would be like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Even if Richard knew the boy. Which he didn’t.

How would he be able to pick out a boy he’d never seen? For a fleeting moment he considered asking Katrina to accompany him, but that would only make the mission more complicated and endanger her. No, he had the best chance for success if he did this alone.

“What if…” Richard ran his hands through his hair and shot a glance toward the midwife. “…Please hear me out first, before you decide. What if you delivered another message to Agnieska, letting her know the exact time and place where Janusz has to wait for me to pick him up?”

“We’d need detailed information about the children’s camp. Information from the inside,” Magda said and they both looked at each other before they spoke at once: “Tekla Koszlow.”

“It looks like I have to visit with her tomorrow. You lie low and think about the plan. There’s so much to prepare to ensure it works. Also, you still want to rescue Agnieska.”

Richard paled; in his excitement over the children’s camp, he’d all but forgotten about her.

The next day,

pins and needles of anxious energy prickled his skin as he waited for Magda to return from her social visit with Mrs. Koszlow.

“How did it go?” he asked the moment Magda closed the door behind her.

“Well, very well indeed. Let’s sit at the table,” she answered. On the way to the table, she grabbed a pencil and piece of paper. “Tekla was so busy showing off her important work with the Germans, she never noticed I was quizzing her.”

Richard watched with excitement as she drew a pretty accurate map of the Ghetto and the Kinder KZ, including the factories and the sleeping barracks.

“Here.” Richard pointed at a rectangle behind the other barracks, but close to the gate. “What’s this?”

“The quarantine barracks for the seriously ill. Tekla said nobody likes to go there, fearful of contracting a disease.”

“That’s the perfect meeting place, then.” Richard beamed. “If Janusz could hide around there, I’ll surely find him right away.”

“Good idea.” Magda nodded and finished her map, putting a door into the fence separating the Ghetto from the children’s camp. “Here, this gate.” She tapped her finger on the map. “This might solve our problem on how to rescue Agnieska.”

Richard looked at her, not quite understanding. The midwife grinned at him, saying, “Loose-lipped Tekla provided me with plenty of invaluable information.”