War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 203

Chapter 17: Peter

P

eter walked towards Anna, pondering whether it would be prudent to talk to her or not. Bartosz didn’t know, and the SS man at her side looked the part. His glance fell on the man’s shining belt buckle with the inscription

Gott mit uns

, In God we trust. He pursed his lips; surely God wasn’t very happy about the horrific crimes committed in his name.

Anna gave him a look that meant for him to keep his mouth shut and then said, “We’ve come here to retrieve the prisoner Zdanek.”

Peter’s eyes almost popped out of his head and he had to bite his lips to remain silent.

She waved at Bartosz. “You, go with Professor Scherer’s driver and find something we can use as a stretcher. And you,” she pointed at Peter, “come with me to make the prisoner ready for transport.”

“Do you think this is a good idea?” the SS man said.

Anna only smiled at him. “Do you really think this man will dare to do me any harm, Hans? In any case I can yell if I need your help.”

Hans smirked. “I’ll gladly shoot him through the skull should he so much as hurt a hair on your head.”

That was an unconcealed threat towards Peter, who played his part in the little game and put on a frightened expression. “I assure you, I won’t make any problems. I want to live.”

Hans showed a gratified smile and Peter wondered why Professor Scherer put up with this miserable, spineless SS brute. Or hadn’t he had a choice as to who became his new driver? Bartosz left with Hans and Peter followed Anna to Stan’s bed.

“How? Why? Is he the Prime Minister’s cousin?” he whispered.

“And Churchill’s godson. I had to think of something. Since you are too stubborn to come with me, I can at least rescue your brother.” Her hand snaked into his. The skin so soft. Cool and warm at the same time. Tiny. She was so small compared to him, and yet she had the inner strength of ten men. And the stubbornness of a mule.

“I love you,” he whispered, yearning to kiss her. But with the SS brute due to return any minute, he didn’t dare.

They reached the bunk where Stan lay and she bent down to give him instructions. “I’m here to take you to Berlin to a proper hospital. A place where you will receive state-of-the-art treatment for your leg and the infection.”

Peter watched the disbelieving gaze in his brother’s eyes and hurried to add in Polish that he had to pretend to be Mikołajczyk’s cousin. Stan’s eyes widened even more while Anna removed his blanket and hid a gasp at the putrid smell coming from beneath. All three of them knew that going with her was Stan’s only chance to survive. They heard heavy footfalls approaching the barracks and she reached into her pockets.

“Take this. It’s all I could organize last night.” She slid several packages of cigarettes and half a loaf of bread into Peter’s pockets and squeezed his hand for a moment. “I would rather take you both out of here.”

“Me, too, but knowing that Stan is in good care will keep me strong. Don’t worry about me,” Peter said, his voice at the point of breaking. He might put on a brave face, but his own chances of survival were slim in this hovel.

The door slammed open and Bartosz returned with the SS man. “There’s nothing to use as a stretcher,” Hans said.

“Then we’ll carry him to the automobile,” Anna answered.

“You’re not expecting me to carry that stinking piece of trash?” Hans gave Stan a nasty stare and Peter fisted his hands to keep himself from strangling the Nazi bastard.

Thankfully, Anna never lost her composure and said with a wave of her hand, “Off course not, you would only dirty your impeccable uniform. He will do it.” She pointed at Peter. “Why don’t you go ahead and put a tarpaulin on the backseat of the limousine? Professor Scherer wouldn’t be happy if it got dirty.”

Hans nodded, seemingly relieved to be allowed to leave the hospital barracks with the annoyance of the moaning and groaning men.

Bartosz gave an apologetic glance to Peter murmuring, “I’d better go to roll call,” before he disappeared, too.

Peter could understand him. The hospital barracks wasn’t a place where anyone wanted to spend more time than absolutely necessary, and being late for roll call would draw undue and unwelcome attention to him.

With everyone gone, Peter grabbed Anna and pressed a feverish kiss on her lips. She was thinner than he remembered, but still soft and warm. Her curves pressed against his body and stirred a reaction. He gave a loud sigh, wondering whether he’d made the right decision. He might not hold her in his arms ever again. But one glance at the pale, sweaty face of his brother encouraged him.

I’m doing the right thing. For Stan

.

“I love you so much,” Anna whispered against his mouth.

Her tender words tore his heart apart. “I love you just as much.”

Anna pulled away from him, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from the rough kiss. “We have to go.”

She averted her eyes, but he took her chin and moved it upward. “Don’t be sad, darling. Remember, bad weeds grow tall. I have experienced worse. I’ll be just fine.”

He could see she didn’t believe one word he said, but did her best to put on a brave face. Peter clenched his hands into fists in his pockets as despair filled him. Both of them knew this could well be the last time they saw one another. She would have no reason to visit this particular camp again. There would be no second rescue plan for Peter.

Stan gave an awful scream when they moved him onto Peter’s back, and Peter almost succumbed to the weight of his brother. Four months ago he wouldn’t have flinched carrying double the weight, but malnourishment and catastrophic conditions had made a wreck out of him.

For a moment he doubted whether he could withstand whatever fate held in store until the Allies would – finally – liberate them. Nobody he knew doubted the impending victory of the Allies. It was simply a question of when and not a question of if. But many men doubted whether they’d still be around by the time the Nazis were finally defeated.

The walk to the professor’s limousine with the heavy cargo on his shoulders seemed endless and Peter stumbled more than once, sheer willpower holding him upright. He dropped Stan onto the tarpaulin in the back of the Mercedes, sending Anna a pleading gaze.

She understood and engaged the SS man in a conversation, taking them several steps away from the automobile and giving the two brothers a few minutes to say their goodbyes.

Stan tried to remain stoic, but Peter wasn’t fooled. He could see the evocative emotions in his brother’s eyes.

“You’ll be fine. Anna will take good care of you,” he said with the most nonchalant tone he could muster.

“I’ll never forget what you did for me.” Stan fought back tears, holding on to his composure only by a thin thread. “I won’t disappoint you. And once I’m back on my feet, I’ll watch out for your wife.”

Peter squeezed Stan’s hand. “Give my son a kiss for me, will you?”

“I will. Take care of yourself.”

Heavy footfalls approached the vehicle and Peter quickly moved a blanket over Stan and backed out. He almost smacked into the SS man Hans and excused himself. With a last longing gaze towards Anna, he returned to his barracks and to an unknown fate.