War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 165

Chapter 20

End of August 1944

J

ohann sighed as he looked out the window of the holding room he’d been kept in since his capture several weeks earlier. The smoke rose across the skyline of the city. Day and night, flames licked at the sky and the smell of smoke was overwhelmed only by the putrid stench of rotting corpses.

The

Verbrennungskommandos

, the civilians forced to collect and burn the dead, couldn’t work fast enough to prevent the decay of human flesh in the blazing August sun. He wrinkled his nose, desperate to receive news about the fighting.

Their guards never mentioned a word about the situation outside, except for the carefully measured delivery of Polish victories. Johann had snapped up a few words of the language during his time in the country, but not enough by far to follow a whispered conversation between two guards.

Johann had asked them many times about Alexandra, but either they didn’t know, or they weren’t allowed to tell him. Guilt tore at his soul. It was his fault that she got captured. He should have been more careful, taken another route, radioed in to make sure the road was clear…He just hoped they were treating her as well as they were treating him and his comrades.

The

Banditen

seemed to be adamant about fulfilling all the requirements of the Geneva Convention, even despite the knowledge that their enemies didn’t extend the same military courtesy to them. A chill trickled down Johann’s spine. He’d been a proud Wehrmacht soldier and party member for many years, until his army had lost its honor by succumbing to the brutality of the SS and Hitler himself.

His glance crossed the room, which had filled with more prisoners by the day. And for the first time he noticed that all the uniforms were field-grey. Not a single black one among them. What did the partisans do with SS members?

“We need to break out,” a young man murmured, coming to stand at the barred window next to him.

“That would be suicide. We are outnumbered and have no weapons.”

“Better that than sitting here with our tails between our legs while these Polish pigs…”

Johann gave him a sharp look. “Watch your words. What’s your name?”

“Michael.”

“Soldat Michael, how long have you been in Poland?”

The young man stood up a bit straighter. “Three weeks. We were the last train to arrive before the pigs cut communications.”

Johann forced himself not to roll his eyes. This child thought he knew all about the war and occupied Poland. He had no idea. “Where did you come from?”

“Denmark.”

Denmark? That country had never seen a single skirmish beyond the first few days after the invasion. And the young soldier at Johann’s side probably hadn’t either.

“I’ll give you some advice. I have been in the Wehrmacht since way before the war, serving in many of the occupied countries, but Poland is different. These people are fierce. Not deferent like the Danes, or perfidious like the French. The Poles openly defy us, they have staged the biggest rebellion the Third Reich has seen, and they will fight until the last drop of Polish blood has been shed if they need to.”

“And your point is?”

“My point is that we are being treated according to international conventions, which is much more than can be said for many others fighting in this war. I have no doubt that our comrades will take back all that has been lost in the first days of fighting and we will be liberated in due time. Until that happens, I suggest you rest up and don’t antagonize those in charge of our very lives. We can only return to fight if we’re still alive.”

Michael stared at him for a long moment, nodding before wandering off.

Johann watched him go, sadness in his chest for the loss of youth Michael had suffered. So many people had lost so much, and after all of the atrocities he’d witnessed in the occupied territories, he was starting to question his loyalties.

He loved his Fatherland. As a young boy he had witnessed the devastating defeat of Germany in the previous war. He’d grown up with the unjust Treaty of Versailles crippling the German economy and making the people suffer. He’d burned with the desire to take back what rightfully belonged to the country. To make Germany great again. Joining the

Reichswehr

, the predecessor of the Wehrmacht, as soon as he turned eighteen twelve years ago was only the consequential first step.

Johann was committed to fighting for Germany, but it seemed the longer the war went on, the more it deviated from the original intentions. Despite his scruples, after more than a decade, being a good soldier was engrained within his soul. He could no more turn his back on the war effort than he could cut off his own hand. He had to stick it out to the bitter end. Triumph or defeat, it didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that the war had to end.

Suddenly, a commotion at the end of the street drew his attention and he watched as three Tiger tanks rolled into view. Their turrets turned toward the building and he stared into the menacing muzzle.

“Incoming! Get down! Take cover!” Johann yelled and launched himself to the floor, skidding across the room and bumping against the wall on the other side. He covered his ears as a barrage of exploding shells and gunfire erupted outside the building. Concrete and dust fell all around him, but the building held on. With tingling ears, he waited pressed against the floor until the shelling stopped and heavy footsteps thumped upstairs. Several Wehrmacht soldiers with their rifles at the ready stormed the room.

“

Nicht schießen! Wir sind Deutsche!

” Don’t shoot, we’re Germans, he shouted at them and slowly got up with raised hands. “Feldwebel Johann Hauser, Warsaw Garrison.”

His opponent glanced around asking, “Everyone German?”

“Yes. We’ve all been captured and taken prisoner. I’m currently the highest-ranking man in the room.”

“You’re not hiding any partisans here?”

Johann glared at him and, after checking the insignia on his lapels, addressed him, “Obergefreiter. We don’t hide enemies. Now get us out of here. I need to return to the

Oberkommandantur

as soon as possible.”

And find out what happened to Alexandra

.

The other soldier did as told and ordered his unit to get everyone out of the building. On the way down, Johann saw one of the Polish guards crouching against the wall, trying to hide something.

“Get out. You’ll be shot, bastard,” one of the soldiers threatened him, but the man wouldn’t budge.

Johann stepped nearer and saw a tiny hand peeking out from behind the terrified man. “What are you hiding there?”

“No…no…nothing.”

“Take that rifle down. I’m handling this,” Johann said to the foot soldier, who stared at him in disbelief and didn’t move. “This is an order. Take your rifle down!”

Finally, the soldier obeyed.

“Show me who you’re hiding,” Johann demanded, and the Polish guard shrank even more, pure horror in his eyes, but he stepped aside and a small girl of maybe twelve years looked at Johann, trembling like aspen leaves.

“What’s she doing here?” Indignation flooded Johann’s body. A young girl had no business being in a combat zone.

“She’s…she’s…my daughter. She’s been bringing in food for the prisoners,” the man stammered. “Please don’t kill her. Please…kill me, but don’t kill her…please.” The man fell to his knees and Johann motioned him to be silent.

“Nobody is being killed here. Understood?” he said with a side-glance at the soldier holding his rifle.

Both the German soldier and the Polish guard nodded.

“Get up.” Johann had barely finished speaking when they heard hooting and hollering and the German soldier by his side said, “That’s the SS coming.”

Johann frantically glanced around, and in his desperation shoved the Pole and his daughter into the basement, locking the door behind them, before he turned to walk outside. The marauding SS troopers from the

Kampftruppe Reinefarth

burst inside the building, swarming out to find any hidden enemies.

“There’s nobody in here anymore,” Johann said, praying they wouldn’t find the man and his daughter.