War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 143

Chapter 27

T

he next day Stan returned to the family farm with a grin on his face, waving ID cards in his hand.

“Where’s Jan?” he asked, scanning the perimeter for the boy.

“Hanging out with Tadzio,” Katrina answered. “The two boys have become best friends during these last few days.”

“So why do you look as if someone died?” Stan asked after a look at the dreary expressions of the three adults.

“Because someone did…Magda Lenska was caught by the Gestapo and just this morning they found her body hanging from a lamppost in town.

Stan swallowed hard and sat down on a chair. “The good soul. How? Why?”

“Mrs. Koszlow betrayed her,” Katrina said through thinned lips.

“That bloody backstabbing bitch!” Stan jumped up, knocking over the chair, and thumped his fist onto the table. “I’ll see that she gets what’s hers!”

Richard stepped into the doorframe, afraid the large man would bolt out the door this very moment to pay their traitorous neighbor an unpleasant visit. “Don’t. She’s not worth it.”

Stan stared at him with bloodshot eyes. “You in cahoots with her, Fritz?”

“No. Never. And I thought we’d left the hostilities behind?”

Stan gave an unintelligible grunt, but backed up.

“You can have your revenge on Mrs. Koszlow later, but first we have to bring everyone to a safe place. In fact Agnieska and Jan will leave today for Warsaw, now that you’ve obtained papers for them. Katrina and I should leave the farm as well–” Richard explained.

“And since when are you the boss here?”

“Since I’m the only one thinking with a clear head. And before you get all riled up, I was hoping for your help to convince that stubborn lady over there,” he said, pointing to Katrina, “to leave the farm, since it’s not safe here anymore.”

Stan shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. Once, twice, three times. “Richard is right. The Gestapo will find out that Agnieska is our sister-in-law and then none of us will be safe here. They may even believe we had nothing to do with it, but they might still arrest us just for fun. To fill their pool of hostages for reprisal shootings.”

Katrina blanched. The private war staged between the Home Army and the SS had taken on absurd dimensions. For every assassination of one German man, ten to twenty Polish civilians were shot. Usually a roundup happened in town, and whichever male Pole had the bad luck to be out and about would be shot later. But the Gestapo also liked to help out their SS friends by providing a pool of hostages to use for reprisals. Most of them might actually be grateful for the quick end after being held captive for days or weeks in the Gestapo’s hands.

“I’m not leaving. I have to supply food to the partisans.”

“Think again, sister,” Stan pleaded with her. “You can be of more use to us alive than dead or in a German labor camp. You can go to Bartosz’s farm. Since he and his two brothers are in hiding, his mother could use a hand…or two,” he said after a glance at Richard.

“And who will take care of our place?” Katrina spoke out aloud what nobody wanted to think about.

“We’ll worry about this another day. For now Tadzio and his ma can do the most urgent things here.” Stan turned to look at Agnieska. “Pack your things. I might be able to get you on a horse-drawn cart to Warsaw, but it has to be first thing in the morning. We’ll leave in thirty.”

Frantic activity ensued in the small cottage. Agnieska packed the few belongings she owned – mostly dresses Katrina had given her for herself, and a few trousers and shirts Tadzio had outgrown. The neighbor’s boy might be the same age as Jan, but four years of starvation were clearly reflected in their difference of stature.

Katrina prepared cold snacks for the journey and two blankets for the nights, and finally she dipped her fingers deep into the flour pot and produced a few zloty notes and a small golden ring.

“I can’t possibly take this,” Agnieska protested.

“Yes, you can. It was Ludmila’s wedding band. It’ll serve you well to start a new life in Warsaw.”

“Thank you.” Agnieska took the band and stashed it in a secret pocket of her dress, as her eyes filled with tears. She quickly turned away, pretending to be busy rearranging the clothes in her satchel.

Tadzio and Jan came running toward the farm, cheeks red, hair ruffled. Breathless, Jan jumped at his uncle Stan, calling, “I have to show you something, come…”

“We can’t.” Stan kneeled beside the boy. “We have to leave right now. It’s not safe to stay here. Say good-bye to Tadzio.”

Jan’s eyes watered but he braved the threat of tears and nodded before he hugged his friend good-bye. “We’ll see each other after the war. Wait for me?”

“Sure, I’ll wait. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the bloody Germans off this place.” Tadzio raised his fists into the air, and Richard couldn’t hold back a grin.

Before Stan left with Agnieska and the boy, he turned to Richard and said, “Have everything packed by tomorrow night. I’ll be back with someone to give you and Katrina a ride to Bartosz’s farm.”

“Thanks, Stan.” As he shared a comradely glance with Stan, Richard realized he didn’t have anything to fear from Katrina’s brother. The larger man had come around and accepted him into the family.

Then Katrina and Richard were alone. After so many days when the cottage had been filled with chatter and laughter, the silence seemed unfamiliar.

“I miss them already,” Katrina said.

“Me too, but look at the bright side. I finally get to share your bed again.”

She flushed and looked away. “How can you think of that now?”

But the next moment she was in his arms and he carried her up the stairs. “God, I missed you so much, Katrina.”

He settled her onto the bed and kissed her cheek lightly, raising her face up to look at him. Then he pressed his lips on hers. He felt her body yielding to him as he deepened the kiss, his hands slipping beneath her dress and up her thighs, roaming over her hips, her stomach, and the swell of her breasts.

“I love you, Richard,” Katrina whispered, as she raised her arms for him to rid her of the dress. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have you back with me.”

They took the whole night to relearn each other’s bodies. When they finally fell asleep, Richard hoped with Katrina in his arms the nightmares would leave him alone. Inhaling her sweet scent, he dozed off, praying the warmth of her skin pressed against his would keep him grounded in the here and now.

Nonetheless, the nightmares attacked him and he woke up, sweating and shivering. Katrina still lay by his side, breathing evenly, so he hoped she hadn’t noticed his inner turmoil. He would not burden her with his problems. Shell shock they called it. Or battle fatigue. It usually didn’t start until after the war – at least that’s how it had been in the previous war.

He slid his hand across her wonderful curves and snuggled tighter against her. As long as she was with him, he’d overcome his nightmares – one day. He might even be able to forget.

The next morning Katrina gave Tadzio instructions on how to care for the remaining rabbits and the vegetable garden. They would take half of the rabbits plus the hens with them to Bartosz’s farm, since she didn’t want to arrive as supplicants.

Tadzio put on a brave face and then left through the backyard to cross the fields. He’d just reached the hedge serving as boundary when he came rushing back, waving his hands in the air and shouting, “German soldiers.”

“Shit!” Richard said as he saw the motorized vehicle dashing down the dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust in the air. With screeching brakes it came to a halt in front of the farmhouse, and Richard waved for Tadzio to sneak away to his own place.

The next moment loud banging threatened to burst the front door. Richard rushed inside, even though he knew he should go into hiding. But hiding wouldn’t help. He’d seen the soldiers and they must have seen him, too. It was better to act normal, hear out what they had to say.

Katrina had already opened the door to a group of SS men who rumbled inside with their heavy boots, leaving clumps of mud on the immaculate kitchen floor. With relief, Richard noticed that he’d never seen any one of them before.

“How can I help you?” Katrina asked with a solemn face, but Richard could see the anxiety in her rigid posture, and her hand grasping the table. Despite the severe situation, his heart filled with warmth looking at the valiant woman he loved so much. Like always, she refused to talk German to the occupiers, but they’d come prepared. Two of the men were Blue Police, and one of them addressed her in Polish. “Where’s your sister-in-law?”

Katrina pushed out her lower lip and glared daggers at the one speaking. “Shouldn’t you know that, Aleksy? It was you who dragged her to the Ghetto years ago.”

“Don’t play innocent with me, Katrina. She escaped and we know she came here.”

“I haven’t seen her since the day you took her,” Katrina said. Her lie was compelling enough to swipe the smug grin from Aleksy’s face as he turned to translate her words for the SS.

“We don’t believe you,” Aleksy finally said and the German officer, whom Richard recognized to be an SS Untersturmführer by the collar badge and shoulder straps, waved at his men, shouting, “Search the place! Every single corner. If you find so much as a trace of the missing Jewess, tear her into pieces, and this one, too.” Most of the men sped into all corners of the cottage, leaving only the commanding officer, the Blue policeman called Aleksy, and another SS man holding his rifle at the ready in the kitchen.

The officer took a step toward Katrina, taking her chin between thumb and forefinger, raising his hand until she barely touched the ground with her tiptoes. “You know what the punishment for hiding Jews is?”

Seeing Katrina fighting for breath, Richard couldn’t hold back any longer. He stepped forward and said in German, laced heavily with a Polish accent, “Officer, please let her go. We’re hiding no Jew.”

“And who are you? Never seen you here before,” Aleksy asked.

“Ri…Ryszard Blach, I’m Katrina’s cousin,” Richard said, remembering to use his made-up identity.

“Papers,” the German officer demanded.

“I…I don’t have them anymore. My home burnt out during an air raid and everything with it.” Richard shivered inside at his weak excuse, but he didn’t have a better one at his fingertips. Why hadn’t he asked Stan to put together fake papers for him as well? That negligence might now cost him his life.

“Hmm.” The German officer let Katrina’s jaw go and she tumbled to the floor, then scrambled to get up again. He glanced at her like she was a mangy dog and kicked her with his muddy boot. Richard could barely restrain himself from jumping at the officer’s throat. A sure death sentence, and not only for him. So he gritted his teeth and looked away.

“Get out of my sight, filthy bitch,” the officer commanded and launched another kick at her ribs for good measure. She stifled a scream and crawled away until she reached the back door.

“Not so fast,” the officer said when she wanted to open the door. “Now for you,” he drawled, taking his sweet time walking around Richard, inspecting him from all sides. “Not a Jew,” he murmured and then came to stand in front of Richard again. “Are you sure you’re not a

Volksdeutsche

r who has failed to register? That is punishable by death.”

Richard swallowed hard. He’d never heard of that specific law, but then, what did it matter? The officer had all the power to make up these things, and who would complain? Certainly not a frightened-to-death Polish peasant. “Officer, no. If I were a

Volksdeutscher

I would most definitely have registered.”

“How old are you?”

“Almost nineteen.”

“Well, well,” the officer said with a dirty grin, “congratulations, you’ve just joined the ranks of the SS. The Dirlewanger brigade.”

“No…Officer…” Richard felt all the blood rushing from his face. Not that. Never. He’d rather be shot.

“Your choice.” The officer pointed at Katrina, who still stood beside the back door, shivering like aspen leaves. “You fight for the Reich or this piece of ass will serve in the brothel in town. We’re always short of willing girls.”

“I’d rather fight, then…” Richard said.

“Too bad, and here I was looking forward to getting down and dirty with your cousin. Maybe you’d like to watch?”

Richard fisted his hands. If the SS officer so much as laid a hand on Katrina, he’d strangle him with his bare hands, even if it were the last thing he’d do in this life.

“Untersturmführer, we found nothing,” one of the returning SS troopers said, as eight or ten of the men trampled into the kitchen. A short discussion ensued and some of the men turned the kitchen upside down to look for valuables in the drawers.

“We are outta here then. He’s coming with us, joining the war effort, and the girl…” The officer glanced around, but Katrina had used the hullabaloo to slip through the door, begging Richard’s pardon with her last glance before she dashed off towards Tadzio’s house.

The soldiers frogmarched Richard to the military vehicle as he worried what the sadistic Dirlewanger had in store for him should he recognize him. But his worries were soon overshadowed when he saw one of the SS troopers light a bundle of straw stalks and torch the thatched roof of the farmhouse.

Time stood still as Richard prayed this was just another of his harrowing nightmares.