War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 181

Chapter 36

P

eter marched his unit down Filtrowa Street in single file, the German standard-issue rifle he’d acquired from a corpse hanging heavily around his neck. According to the instructions they were to carry their weapons without ammunition.

More battalions joined them. As far as the eye could see, a trek of dirty, dejected and depleted men walked towards an unsure future. Most wore whatever ill-fitting civilian clothes they’d obtained, after shedding the coveted

panterka

battle dress. Nobody dared to face the German victors in a stolen SS uniform.

Peter’s heart squeezed for all the courageous men shuffling down the broad street. Fifteen thousand, more or less. Every last Home Army soldier who hadn’t preferred to seek his luck with the civilians was on the move, adrift on a sea of dirt and desperation.

The days

after surrendering were a gray mass of misery. Herded into an open space, exposed to wind and rain, the men waited for their transport to a proper camp. Food was scarce, and optimism was scarcer.

Peter tried to instill a positive mindset into his men, but just looking at the depressed faces made him realize he’d failed. For the insurgents the war was over. They’d seized the opportunity with both hands – and failed. Again. It seemed his entire military career had been nothing but a succession of failures. Although there was no doubt in his mind that he’d do it all over again.

His spirits sank lower with every passing hour as his mind filled with worries about his son and with longing for his wife. He acquired a piece of paper and wrote a letter to Anna.

Beloved Anna,

I’m not sure whether you’ve been following the news about the uprising. Let me tell you it was an utter disaster. Bloodshed like no other before in history. Myself, I’m awaiting transport to a prisoner of war camp – where, I don’t know. I wish I could hold you and kiss you, but this will have to wait until the war ends. For all we know, it might not take long now. Please take care of yourself and stay alive until I return to your side

.

He smiled, memories of his time with her flashing through his mind. They’d met not long ago amidst the horrors of war, but still they’d managed to find happiness and peace in each other’s arms.

I have met your friend Alexandra. She’s well and should have been evacuated weeks ago. And I do have another wonderful bit of news: fate has decided to shine down on me and I’ve found the son I thought dead. You can’t imagine my incredible joy! He’s in good care with his aunt, who also miraculously survived. Since Warsaw is in rubble – worse than Berlin – they will travel to the countryside, seeking a safe place to stay.

My heart overflows with love for you and I have missed you every single day. Once this is over, I will never leave your side again.

Love always,

P.

He read the letter again and pressed it to his heart. He couldn’t send it to Anna without endangering her. He stuffed it in the pocket of his shirt, where it burned like a hot coal. Maybe once he reached the POW camp he could find a Red Cross worker who’d be willing to send a secret message.

Group after group of Home Army soldiers were shipped off, until it finally was Peter’s turn to go. He stood in line with several hundred men, his head bowed in defeat. He actually looked forward to boarding the train. After being exposed to the elements for almost a week, he welcomed having a roof over his head again, even if it was only the roof of a cattle wagon.

“Antek. Piotr Zdanek,” a voice called out.

“Yes,” he said. The Germans, organized like always, had lists matching the nom de guerre with the real name of the combatants, marking off those transported away. Sometimes they’d pull out the odd person they deemed Jewish for further scrutiny.

“Step out,” the voice insisted, and he finally looked at the person, only to mutter a curse under his breath.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “You should be somewhere safe by now.”

Lotte cast him a smug grin. She held a clipboard in her hands and moved her pencil down the list, until she found his name. With determination in her face she crossed off his name and wrote

wounded

next to it.

“I’m fine. My gunshot wound is healed,” he said.

She kept her eyes trained on the clipboard and murmured, “It’s better to be wounded. Trust me. And limp.” With a loud voice she added, “Walk with me over there.” She grabbed his waist as if he really was an invalid and helped him hobble to a small group of wounded. On the way she produced a tin cup and four packs of cigarettes and slid it into his pocket.

“Thanks.” Tears pricked the back of his eyes at her generous gift. Cigarettes were the official currency in the POW camps and could buy about anything. He paused as if he needed to catch his breath from the effort and dug the letter to Anna out of his breast pocket, pressing it into Lotte’s hands. “Please, get this to Anna for me?”

Lotte nodded once, tucking the paper beneath the lists on her clipboard. Peter yearned to hug her, but this would be entirely inappropriate and draw unwanted attention to both of them. If the Nazis even suspected they were family, this would bring an array of problems and possibly death for Anna and him. Racial defilement was a crime not taken lightly.

They took up the short walk again and he murmured, without looking at her, “Can you check up on Jan and Agnieska for me? Please. Take care of my son.”

She gave him a single nod, handed him over to the waiting Polish nurse and walked away.