War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 196

Chapter 10: Peter

Two weeks later at the prison camp Fallingbostel

W

ord got out that an official committee would arrive for inspection, and everyone was prompted to leave the barracks spick and span.

“It’s a waste of time and energy,” Peter growled at the enthusiasm of his co-prisoners.

“Come on. It could even be the International Red Cross and they might bring packages from home,” Bartosz said on a hopeful note.

“Well, we can hope,” Peter agreed and continued sweeping the floor.

It was more probable that some high-ranking Nazis wanted to visit with the sole intent of patting themselves on the back. Back in the days with Professor Scherer, he’d been part of many such official committees, which had never improved the conditions for the prisoners. On the contrary, most of the times, some ridiculous work quotas had been instigated due to the

lazy

behavior the famished prisoners displayed. Cleaning up the camp for whoever these visitors were would actually go against their own interests.

But he knew all too well that he didn’t have a choice.

Do what the guard says or face the consequences.

So he finished sweeping and stripped naked to join the queue of men waiting patiently to take a bath in one of the large wooden pails.

He shivered in the cold December air and when it was his turn he immersed himself in the murky liquid, ignoring the pungent smell of the delousing agent. The freezing water took his breath away and numbed his already cold limbs. He quickly washed himself with his hands and let a comrade scratch his back, before he jumped outside to dry himself off with his kerchief.

Despite the iciness in his bones, he smiled. For a few days he wouldn’t have to worry about itching louse bites. Even if the important visitors didn’t improve matters in any other way, the delousing bath was well worth the extra effort.

Then he joined the other barracks seniors to meet with the camp commandant and receive further instructions for the upcoming official visit. Peter didn’t pay much attention to the usual slogans, until the commandant said, “The visiting party has suggested distributing typhus vaccines to two hundred prisoners…”

Wow

! Now that was a game changer. Two hundred wasn’t nearly enough, obviously, but it could help keep the deadly disease at bay. Typhus was one of the biggest problems in any camp, and the insidious disease had taken many lives in Fallingbostel for weeks. It was only a matter of time before it turned into a full-blown epidemic and threatened to wipe out a big percentage of the prisoners.

“…We are fortunate that someone as renowned in the field of bacteriology as Professor Scherer has selected this camp as a test case for his immunization program...”

Peter didn’t understand the rest of the commandant’s words due to the heavy rushing of blood to his ears.

Professor Scherer of all persons!

Peter wanted to shrink to Tom Thumb size and stay that way until the official visit ended. It was dreadful to imagine what would happen if the professor recognized him, as he was bound to. A fast death would be the best-case scenario, but ending up in one of the Gestapo’s torture chambers was much more likely if anyone ever found out that Peter Wolf and Piotr Zdanek were the same person…and had been spying for the British.

“Those who aren’t on a work party will line up in front of their barracks and wait for our visitors. I expect you to make the best possible impression…or you will regret it.” The commandant dismissed the barracks seniors with a wave of his hand.

Peter left the office with the other men, his mind swirling frantically to devise a plan to keep from being discovered. He needed to hide, and fast. On returning to his own barracks, he pulled Bartosz aside.

“You need to cover for me,” Peter said.

Bartosz, a man of few words, eyed him for a long time and said, “Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Assume my position as barracks senior and make sure everything goes off without a hiccup.”

Bartosz raised a brow.

“If the visitor sees me, not only is my life at stake, but possibly all of yours as well.”

“Understood. Where will you go?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll find someplace to hunker down until they leave.”

Bartosz followed Peter inside, where Peter explained to the men about the vaccinations and that Bartosz would fill in for him as barracks senior, because he had been assigned to the sick bay. As the lie fell easily from his lips, Peter knew his men wouldn’t question him, and they never went near the sick bay if they weren’t forced to.

Actually the sick bay was a good place to hide. The doctors wouldn’t waste the precious serum on dying men, and he could chat with Stan for a while. Thoughts of his brother brought a deep frown to his forehead. Stan still couldn’t get up and was weakening by the day. He was slowly dying, despite the care he’d been given.

Minutes later Peter snuck into the sick bay, his eyes adjusting to the dim light inside.

“Piotr?” Stan raised his hand in an inviting gesture.

“Shush. Nobody can know I was here.”

“What?” Stan’s voice was weak, and it hurt Peter’s soul to see his temperamental, strong-willed and vibrant younger brother lying within the clutches of death.

“Someone from my past is coming to the camp. He’ll be sure to recognize me if he sees me, but he believes I’m a loyal Nazi. I can’t let him find me.” Peter ran a hand through his freshly cropped hair and glanced around. Some of the other injured men stirred. Maybe his plan wasn’t as bulletproof as he’d thought. But where else could he hide? “I can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

“’The bone yard,” Stan said and after noticing the confused glance on Peter’s face added, “The tent where you found me, where they take the hopeless cases and leave them to die.”

Peter gagged at the memory and every fiber in his body revolted at the notion of returning to that ghastly place, but he knew Stan was right. It was the one place in the camp where he would be safe from discovery. He pushed a piece of bread into Stan’s hand and said, “You owe me. Take care.”

For a tiny moment Stan’s eyes flickered with his usual energy as he answered, “Don’t die on me, brother.”

Peter slipped through the doorway and out the back of the building. He made it to Hell’s waiting room without encountering anyone. Nobody would come here until morning when the penal party had to retrieve the corpses and transport them to the burial pit.

He entered the dimly lit tent and pulled a kerchief over his mouth and nose to keep out the stench of death that seemed to permeate the very walls. His eyes glued to the entrance, he slumped on the floor with nothing to do but wait.

It would be a horrendous wait.

Peter thought about everything he’d left behind in Berlin, including his beautiful Anna. He missed her so much and wished he could at least let her know that he was still alive. Other prisoners had been allowed to write home, but how should he explain that his secret wife lived in Berlin and was German?

Meeting her again would have to wait until after the war. The news brought by newcomers promised that it wouldn’t take much longer. And Peter was determined to survive this war, but first, he had to survive the rest of this day.