War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 151

Chapter 6

Berlin, July 1944

P

eter spent so much time contemplating his next steps that he’d become a nervous wreck. Anna grew more worried about his lack of proper sleep by the day, and even his boss, Professor Scherer, had noticed and asked him several times whether he was alright.

It should have been a beautiful summer, a summer filled with hope as the Allies harassed the Wehrmacht from East and West, making their way across occupied Europe, freeing village after village from the vile grip of the Nazi oppressor.

Anna was delighted with the arrival of her niece Evelin, Ursula’s daughter, but not even this happy event could make Peter smile. All he could think about was the fate of his compatriots and that he wasn’t there to fight his share.

One day in late July while Peter was standing in the lecture hall with hundreds of uniformed medical students attending one of Professor Scherer’s classes, a small, haggard man in his sixties approached him.

“Peter Wolf?” the man asked.

“Yes, who wants to know?” Peter looked at the balding man, who wore a cheap suit, mended many times.

“That doesn’t matter.”

Peter’s neck hair stood on end and he scanned the room for possible exit routes. Had the Gestapo caught up to him? Unlikely, because this man didn’t have the usual cocky attitude of a Gestapo thug. “What do you want?”

“I have a message for you. From Ewa.”

“Ewa? I don’t know any person by that name.” Peter said, an icy chill coursing through his veins at the same time as he kept a calm façade. The only Ewa he knew was his former piano teacher in Warsaw, who now worked for the Home Army.

“Meet me at the Marienkirche in exactly two hours,” the man said.

“How do I now you’re legitimate?” Peter asked, but the man had already disappeared into the audience. Moments later applause for the Professor filled the hall, and Peter cursed the bad timing. With everyone leaving the lecture hall, his chances to follow the stranger were next to zero. Obviously, the man had planned it this way.

After driving the Professor to his lunch meeting, Peter asked for a few hours to run personal errands and set off to Alexanderplat

z

to meet the stranger. When he approached the church, a cold shiver ran down his spine. During a recent direct hit with incendiary bombs the church tower had collapsed onto the nave. The formerly beautiful Marienkirche looked like an omen of even worse times to come.

Suddenly the aggravating feeling of running straight into a trap enveloped him like a cloak of trepidation. He glanced around, searching for someone who might have followed him. The risk was there, but if the man truly had a message from Ewa it must be important. She wouldn’t contact him to exchange pleasantries.

He arrived at the same time the church bell struck two o’clock. The man from the lecture hall stepped out of the shadow of a building and stepped toward Peter, saying, “You came.”

Off course I came, stupid! Or I wouldn’t be here.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go for a walk.” Once they had left the crowded streets behind, the man said, “I’m Mariusz, by the way. And Ewa sends you this.” He handed him a piece of paper with Ewa’s distinctive handwriting.

There’s great things about to happen. We need you at home

.

Peter squinted his eyes, still not fully convinced this was a legitimate message. “That doesn’t say anything. And my home is here.”

Mariusz switched to speaking Polish and said, “That’s what you want everyone to believe,

Piotr

. But I know where your heart really belongs.” With these words, he produced a red and white armband from his pocket. “This is the distinctive mark for all Home Army soldiers who will soon be fighting in the uprising against the Germans.”

“An armband. You need more to convince me.” Ripples of fear, but also of excitement, rushed through Peter’s body. He’d been waiting for this opportunity for so long. But could he trust Mariusz?

“Poland needs you.”

“Why now? Why not wait for the Red Army to liberate the country?” Peter asked, although he wasn’t a friend of the Soviets. To him they were no less evil than the Nazis. The NKVD had proven to be even more efficient than the Gestapo in spreading terror, sending thousands of Poles to gulags in Siberia.

Mariusz sneered. “You’re not really that stupid, are you? Haven’t you heard what’s happening? We fought alongside the Red Army to liberate Polish territory in the East, just to have the traitorous Soviets disarm, arrest or shoot our officers and forcibly conscript the lower ranks into their own army. Make no mistake, Stalin is out to conquer Poland, not free her.”

“I agree. Stalin is a despicable dictator, on a par with his former old crony Hitler. But he’s the ally of our allies, so he’ll have to respect their wishes.”

“And what makes you think they’ll stay true to their word this time? They already sacrificed us on the altar of appeasing Hitler. They’ll do the same for Stalin.”

“True.” Peter didn’t have any response to that, since he’d never agreed on that point with the British and it still rankled that they’d let Poland down the first chance they got.

“It’s now or never,” Mariusz said. “The Soviet offensive crossed the old Polish border and our government-in-exile has to make a decision. We can either sit back waiting for the Soviets to roll their tanks across our soil, claiming the Home Army was a bunch of useless fools and collaborators. Or we can take our fate in our own hands and rise up against the Nazi oppressor. If we show the Western Allies that we played a crucial part in liberating our beloved fatherland, they won’t let Stalin take her away from us again.”

“I’ll be there.” Mariusz’ heated speech had convinced Peter about his legitimate reasons. A spark of excitement had taken hold of him and in that very instant he’d formed the decision to fight for his nation. “When?”

“The sooner the better. We don’t expect the uprising to last more than a few days, two weeks at most.”

“Who will have instructions for me? You?”

“No. Travel to Warsaw and contact Ewa. She’ll give you directions. General Bór is gathering the troops. And…bring a gun. We’re a bit short on weapons.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, but his companion had already disappeared.

Damn, how can that man appear and disappear like a ghost?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. After a very silent dinner, he asked Anna to join him in the sitting room. She snuggled up to him, tension oozing off her in waves.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He paused, tugging a strand of her silky blond hair behind her ear. He hated how much he’d pain her with his plans. “I’m going back.”

“Back? To where?” Her voice sounded alarmed and when she turned to look into his face, she blanched. “Don’t tell me you’re still thinking of going to Poland?”

Peter pulled a face. “Has it been that obvious?”

“Yes.” Tears turned her eyes glassy, but she bravely held them back. “Tell me the whole story.”

“I was contacted by a Home Army member today. They’re planning an uprising against the Germans, and with the help of the Red Army, that’s already chasing the Wehrmacht across Eastern Poland…it…I mean…my contact said it would be a matter of days or weeks.”

Anna’s paleness intensified, and he stopped talking, clasping her hands in his own. “Say something.”

She looked at him and her voice trembled when she said, “I can’t tell you I’m happy about what you’ve just told me, because I’m not. I’d rather have you here by my side…but I also understand. You were uprooted from your country, you lost your wife and son…I understand you need to be a part of taking Poland back.” She gave him a sad smile and added, “I don’t like the idea, but if that is what you need to do, I support your decision.”

“Really?” He hadn’t expected such a calm and mature answer.

“Really. Have you told London about this?”

“Not yet. Last time I mentioned the topic they wanted me to stay in Berlin. I might ask Professor Scherer for a few days off and travel to Warsaw. If my contact is right, I’ll be back in no time at all.”

Anna nodded, and he could tell she was both sad about him leaving and fearful that he might not return, but he also saw the strength in her eyes and her determination not to stand in his way. He loved her even more for that.

“When?” she asked after a lengthy pause.

“I’m going to ask him for the time off tomorrow.”

“What excuse are you going to give?”

“I’m going to tell him I need some time off to take care of personal issues. Knowing Professor Scherer, he won’t ask for more of an explanation than that.”

“No, he probably won’t. I will think about you while you are gone. Will you be able to write?”

“Probably not, since I am travelling under my real name.” Peter raised one of her hands up and kissed her palm. “And I will think about you as well, but I’m not gone yet. What do you say I help you clean the dishes and we have an early night? I want to hold you in my arms.”

Anna nodded and in the wee hours of the night, Peter awoke, Anna’s head on his chest. He held her close as the sun rose, and he contemplated his next steps. With any luck, he’d be in Warsaw several days at most and when they’d chased the Nazis away he could return to his Anna.

Two days

later Peter packed a small bag and waited for Anna to say goodbye.

“I love you,” she murmured with bloodshot eyes testifying to her sleepless night.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said and pressed her against his chest, inhaling her scent to commit it to memory. “Thanks for not trying to change my mind.”

“Part of me understands why you have to do this, although the other part wants to tie you to the bedpost and keep you here with me,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

“That prospect will make me return in no time at all.” He chuckled, sending her a dirty grin. He spent several moments admiring her embarrassed blush before he took her lips in a passionate kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Promise you’ll be careful and watch your back?” Anna handed him his hat, trying to hide her face, but he’d already spotted the treacherous shimmer in her eyes.

“You know I will.”

“And if possible, please don’t kill my sister Lotte.” Her lips tugged upward but then fell again.

“Don’t worry. As soon as fighting breaks out, the female auxiliaries will be immediately evacuated back to Germany. If the Nazis have gotten one thing right, it’s protecting their women.”

Anna cast him an angry stare and he held up his hands. “Hey, I hate them as much as you do, but in this issue they’re right. They don’t let women fight at the front like the Russians do. Female snipers. Fighter pilots. Soldiers. That’s not what women were born to do.”

“What about the British?” Anna asked, obviously trying to change the subject, since she was an advocate for equal rights, having fought tooth and nail to be admitted to medical university. Peter shared her opinion to some extent. Women should be allowed to vote, become scientists, doctors, train conductors, or whatever they wished…but there were limits. And without a shadow of a doubt, war was such a limit. A man’s business.

He took a deep breath. “They don’t know. I chose not to tell them.”

“But what if something goes wrong?”

Peter pulled her into his arms and hugged her close, murmuring in her ear, “Nothing will go wrong.”

Anna hugged him back, a shudder of emotion making her tremble in his arms. Knowing that the longer he delayed leaving, the harder saying goodbye would be, he squeezed her close one last time and then moved her back a foot. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Peter.” Anna’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she opened the door for him.

Peter disembarked

from the train at the central station in Warsaw, taking a moment to calm his emotions. The city hadn’t changed much in the past five years since he’d fled Poland after the invasion. It was amazingly wellpreserved compared to Berlin, which seemed to consist mostly of rubble and ruins nowadays.

In Berlin rarely a day, or more likely a night, went by without the unwelcome visit of the Allied bombers. On a rational level Peter understood that these bombings were a necessary evil in the grand scheme of the war, but emotionally, he couldn’t fathom the amount of suffering the Allies inflicted on the civilian population.

He went to the address he’d committed to memory the day before and knocked on the door. It hadn’t been possible for him to contact Ewa and tell her to expect him, but he knew she wouldn’t turn him away and she’d have further instructions for him.

Light steps approached the door and a melodic voice asked in Polish, “Who is it? What do you want?”

“I was told you’re giving adult piano lessons,” Peter answered.

The door creaked open a crack and a thin woman in her forties with dark brown hair to her shoulders peeked out. “Who recommended you?”

“Mariusz.”

She opened the door and let him inside.

“Thank you,” Peter said after she bolted the front door behind him. “I am Piotr Zdanek.”

Ewa’s eyes widened and then she hugged him, kissing him on both cheeks, before she motioned for him to follow her. She settled at the piano and started playing a melody, murmuring in a low voice, “So you got the message. General Bór will be so pleased. He’s been gathering the troops for the big thing.”

“I’m here to fight for my country,” Peter murmured in an equally low voice as he took a seat beside her and joined her playing the popular melody.

“You haven’t forgotten your piano lessons,” she said with a satisfied smile.

“I had the best teacher.”

“Does London know?”

He shook his head, concentrating on his finger-play to keep up with her speed. It had been ages since he’d last touched a piano.

Ewa continued, “They haven’t been very supportive of this endeavor. They’re fearing diplomatic complications with our other neighbor…”

“I know,” Peter answered, the conversation with Mariusz still fresh in his mind. Poland truly was located between a rock and a hard place. “You have orders for me? And a place to stay?” Ewa nodded and finished the song in silence, starting a new, more difficult tune.

“Very fitting,” he murmured, glancing at the sheet music for

Spring

by Antonio Vivaldi, the Venetian master composer.

“The long winter is over. It’s time to be out sowing the seed,” she answered. “Go to Marek. He’ll have a place for you to stay and he can take you to Bór.” She gave him an address in the river suburb of Czerniaków and then said, “You need a nom de guerre. Don’t divulge your real name to anyone.”

He’d been living under a false name for more than two years, but the name Peter wouldn’t sit well with his comrades, “Antonio.”

“Vivaldi?” Ewa laughed. “Let’s make it Antek.”

He nodded as they finished Antonio Vivaldi’s masterpiece.

“You must leave now, I’m expecting another student.”

“Another student like me?” he asked with barely concealed curiosity in his voice.

“No, this one is German. She’s on our side, but it would be best if you didn’t see each other,” Ewa explained.

Peter left her apartment, caught the tramway to the suburb of Czerniaków and thirty minutes later walked up the steps to an apartment building. He climbed to the third floor and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” came a familiar voice from the inside. A voice he’d recognize out of a million.

“The long winter is over. It’s time to be out sowing the seed.” Peter used the code phrase Ewa had given him.

The door immediately opened, and a man waved him in, his lips pursing in displeasure when he recognized Peter. He looked Peter up and down, before he said, “So you’ve finally decided to come back and fight, coward?” Then he spat at Peter’s feet.

“Thanks for the warm welcome,

Marek

.” Peter doubted whether he should stay here or seek a better place to sleep. Marek’s real name was Jozef and the two of them used to be friends. They’d joined the army together and had fought side by side during the short weeks of the invasion. But when Peter had fled Poland with his unit to avoid spending the war in a German POW camp, Jozef had decided to stay and go underground.

“I thought I’d seen the last of your milquetoast face.” His former friend stared at him with unconcealed hate.

“I’m here now, ready to fight.”

“Did you have a good life in exile? Laughing every day about how your countrymen were tortured and slaughtered?”

“I didn’t.” Peter sighed. He’d not led a good life; he’d risked his life almost every day during these five years, first as a member of the British Expeditionary Forces and then as an SOE agent in Germany. But he chose not to mention this to his former friend.

“Since it looks like I’m stuck with you for today at least, you can bunk over there.” Jozef pointed at the corner of the living room. “First thing in the morning we’ll go and see Bór. Then he can decide what to do with someone like you.”