War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 207

Chapter 21: Stan

L

ying in his bed, Stan cursed himself and the world. He’d been at the Charité for weeks, but his progress was much slower than anticipated. Anna visited him every day to keep him company for a few minutes, but he still felt lonely and had too much time to think.

Every time he thought about Piotr and their last minutes, a deep sadness consumed him and he struggled with guilt. It was his fault Piotr remained behind at the camp. His brother had sacrificed his own freedom to give him a chance to heal. And what did he do to repay his generosity? Not heal! At least not fast enough.

That damn leg was still rife with infection. He wasn’t dumb. Despite the fact that nobody told him the truth about his condition, he could see the concern etched into the faces of the doctors and nurse. Anna rarely looked him in the eyes and when she told him he’d made great progress and would soon be alright, he knew she lied.

Stan scoffed into the room. Piotr’s sacrifice would be in vain if he died.

I’m not going to die

! That’s what he told himself day after day, hour after hour, but how on earth could he command his stubborn leg to heal?

As Christmas approached, Stan fell into a deep depression, thoughts of being useless consuming him. Piotr should have been saved, not him. He was one of the worthless non-walking wounded. Piotr should be enjoying his freedom and his wife. Piotr should have left him to die in Fallingbostel. If anything happened to Piotr, how could he live with his guilt?

And today, with everyone flitting around and flaunting their Christmas spirit, his day turned several shades darker.

“Christmas! I dare you, God. Why don’t you work a miracle? Prove it, because I’m starting to believe you can’t!” Stan’s anger snaked up his spine as he yelled the words into the room. The other patients were either too weak to acknowledge his outburst or just raised an eye at the alien language.

The next moment, guilt about his blasphemy attacked him, knocking the air from his lungs. He half expected an angry God to appear and send him straight into purgatory.

But instead the door opened to a lanky boy.

Who the hell…?

The boy stormed into the room, stopping for a moment to scan the patients. Then he rushed towards Stan and wrapped his scrawny arms around Stan’s shoulders.

“Uncle Stan. I’m so happy.” Stan’s brain was still working slowly and he didn’t understand most of the monologue the boy whispered into his ear. But when wetness soaked the skin of his neck, Stan finally grasped the truth. The boy was Janusz. Piotr’s son.

He remembered Anna telling him, but he hadn’t really paid attention to her actual words.

“It’s really you? How? Why?”

Jan crawled up on the bed with Stan and hugged him close. “Anna brought me here. She thought you might like company. Today is Christmas, you know?”

“I know. It’s my leg that’s injured, not my brains,” Stan chuckled, the boy’s presence returning some of his will to live.

“I brought you a present. Here.” Jan produced several biscuits from his pocket. “We all saved up our sugar rations and Grandma made them.”

Grandma

? Stan took a biscuit and savored the sweet taste. As the flavor exploded across his tongue, he moaned. He hadn’t had a treat in so long. Whoever this Grandma was, she sure knew how to bake. While Stan munched the sweets, Jan bombarded him with whispered questions.

“Did you see my dad? Is he well? Where is he now? And how did Anna get you out of the camp? Did she rescue you like the German soldier rescued me?”

“Wait…” Stan chuckled. “How am I supposed to answer all these questions when you don’t even pause to breathe?”

Jan made a guilty face. “I’m just so excited to see you. Do you think the war will be over soon? And can we all go back home then? Are Katrina and Richard fine? And have you heard about Aunt Agnieska? The last time I saw her was in the transit camp in Warsaw. Do you think they deported her?”

“Slow down.” Stan put his free hand on Jan’s shoulder, wondering how he could sugarcoat things for the boy. “Your dad is fine, but he misses you terribly. He’s thinking about you all the time.”

“I miss him too. And my mom.” Jan’s face fell. “Anna is nice. Her family too, but she’s not my mom…”

Tears threatened to spill and Stan quickly thought of a distraction. “Did you get a present for Christmas?”

“Yes.” Even in the darkness Stan could see the happiness shining in Jan’s face. “Grandma knitted a pullover for me, and Aunt Ursula gave me a real pocket knife. It’s so useful. I would show it to you, but Anna didn’t allow me to bring it with me.”

Stan had difficulties staying serious but nodded and said, “I agree with Anna. A hospital is no place to bring a knife.”

They talked for what seemed like hours until their conversation grew sparser and sleep claimed them both. Stan’s last thought was that he probably should send Jan home or else Anna would be worried…

The hospital brimmed with activities, the noise of the morning routines waking Stan. Much to his surprise he found Jan still snuggled in his arms, sound asleep. A burst of panic surged through him – the nurses could not find Jan here. Despite being treated like a normal patient, he was still a prisoner, an enemy of the Reich.

“Jan. Jan, wake up. It’s morning. You have to leave.”

Jan woke, sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then froze when he looked out the window and saw the sun peek over the horizon. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

Noises outside the room announced the arrival of the morning nurse and Stan pushed Jan off the bed. “Quickly, hide in the closet and don’t make a sound.”

Jan rushed silently across the floor and had just closed the closet door behind him when a young nurse entered the room.

Stan lay back on the bed, his heart pumping violently as the tension in his body mounted.

Later in the day,

Anna visited him and when no other nurse was within earshot asked, “How did you like your Christmas surprise?”

“I’m sorry, if you were worried—”

Anna cut him off. “I figured he was safer in the hospital than wandering the streets alone at night. He’s a resourceful boy…” She sighed, giving Stan reason to think it challenging to raise a boy, especially one who wasn’t your biological child.

She came to his bedside and pulled a chair over so that she could sit beside him. “We’re short on staff so I only have a few minutes, but I thought you might want to see photographs of my family.” She held out a small pile and then explained, “This is one of me and my sisters. Lotte, the youngest, she’s the one with the fiery curls. And to the left is Ursula, the oldest. She has a baby called Evie.” Anna produced a photograph of baby Evie and her grandmother.

Stan took the next picture and pushed himself up higher in the bed. “Who is this?”

“My brother.”

The boy in the photograph looked awfully familiar. Younger, but… “What’s his name?”

“Richard.”

Stan felt waves of dizziness rushing across him as he sought to grasp the reality laid out before him. “Your…your….brother Richard…is he…? Was he…? I mean was he ever in Poland?”

“In fact, he was stationed in Lodz for a while, but…” She broke off, gazing at Stan. “Why do you ask?”

“I know him. He’s the German soldier who rescued Jan. He’s my sister Katrina’s boyfriend.”

Anna’s jaw fell to the floor and she stared at him with wide eyes. “Is he…alive?”

“Last time I saw him he and Katrina sought refuge at a friend’s farm.”

Tears pooled in Anna’s eyes and her voice cracked as she took the photograph back, brushing a finger over the image. “That’s the best news I have heard in a long time. We were all so worried after his last letter.”

Stan had no idea what Richard might have written to his family, but with everything that had happened, they had every reason to be worried. “Your brother has picked up the Polish language quite well; he doesn’t have much problem blending in.”

“Thank you.” Anna touched his arm for a moment, but voices coming from the doorway spurred her to stand up. “I need to go.”