War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 213

Chapter 27: Anna

February 1945

S

ince she’d found out that a group of five hundred Polish officers, including Peter, had been transferred to the Oflag Gross Born, deep in Pomerania, worry and guilt consumed Anna.

Obviously she couldn’t voice her concerns to Professor Scherer or she’d already have asked him what dumb pencil pusher had decided to move Home Army prisoners into the den of the lion. Everyone, even the dumbest Nazi, knew how Stalin’s army treated the Poles who’d been fighting for their country. But maybe that was exactly their plan, getting rid of the prisoners without even lifting a finger.

She carefully investigated and much to her horror found out that the entire camp at Gross Born had been evacuated and all prisoners put on an excruciating march to Sandbostel, some five hundred miles away.

Her heart squeezed painfully when she thought of Peter trudging day after day through snow, wind and ice. She knew enough to not delude herself into believing he’d be properly clothed and fed to withstand such conditions.

While most of the Nazis Professor Scherer socialized with admitted the need to evacuate the prisoner of war population into the West, they also agreed – behind closed doors – that the evacuation was riddled with disorganization, confusion and a lack of planning. Some even went so far as to secretly argue that none of these prisoners were in fit condition to march. Heartless cruelty and death marches were some of the words uttered, although nobody dared to say them in public.

This knowledge didn’t help to soothe Anna’s worries or alleviate her guilt. She should have insisted on bringing Peter with her, should have come up with another plan to rescue him, should have…

She hadn’t told a single soul about her torment. Now that Ursula and the baby had travelled to the countryside she had nobody to confide in, since she didn’t want to put the burden of guilt on Stan, who grew grumpier by the day. Neither did she want Jan to know his father was forced on a death march as long as even the slightest hope remained that Peter would return alive.

After a long shift at the hospital she walked home, snowflakes fluttering down in the evening darkness. In the distance she heard the low rumble of planes and just like that the repressed emotions of so many months broke through like water bursting a dam. She stumbled over to sit on a heap of rubble and bawled.

She sat there for a long time…lost in her grief and crying for the man she loved so much. The tears freezing on her cheeks, she cried for the thousands upon thousands of prisoners on the march like him, for the hundreds of thousands tortured, miserable souls captive in the concentrations camps. For the millions of lives lost, for the sacrifices made, the men maimed.

Shadows of darkness hovered over her, seemingly waiting to swoop down and attack, to suck the spirit out of her and leave her slumped, lifeless. Another corpse amongst the millions of corpses littering the earth across Europe.

“Woman, you’re going to freeze to death,” someone said and she recognized an old man with only one arm who’d been a patient of hers.

“I’m fine. Just leave me to die,” she murmured, closing her eyes as a second wave of tears flooded her eyes.

“I’m not going to do any such thing, Schwester Anna,” he said, recognizing her as well. “You’re the nurse who saved my life and I’ll return the favor now.” He yanked her up, gripping her elbow and dragging her behind. “Where do you live?”

She gave him the address, not caring about anything right now. Darkness had swallowed her and she feared she’d never feel happiness again in her life should Peter die on this senseless march. Everything became fuzzy, and blissful silence engulfed her.

The next morning,

steps from outside woke Anna and she jerked from her bed, disoriented. Her gaze fell on the sleeping Jan by her side. Bits and pieces of the previous evening returned. The kind man leading her home. Her apartment building. Stairs upon stairs. The aghast face of her mother. Hot liquid running down her throat. The intense pain when her feet and hands started to thaw.

“Darling, do you want tea?” her mother asked, peeking inside the room.

“Yes, Mutter. I’ll be right out.” She slipped into her morning robe and slippers and met her mother in the kitchen, taking a steaming cup of herb tea from her hands.

“You gave me quite a fright last night,” Mutter said, her lips pursed.

“I’m sorry…I was…overwhelmed.”

Her mother nodded with understanding eyes. Every woman was overwhelmed. They had lost their sons, husbands, brothers and fathers, and now they were waiting with bated breath for the Red Army to arrive. For centuries past, the women of the enemy had been the ultimate reward for the victorious army. It wouldn’t be any different this time. They all knew the fate that would await them at the hands of the Russian soldiers.

And despite the propaganda touted by Goebbels’s ministry, no woman in the capital believed that Stalin would never set foot into Berlin. Not anymore.

Anna gave a deep sigh. “I should get dressed and return to the hospital.”

“There’s a letter for you,” Mutter said, handing her a big white envelope that read

Feldpostbrief

and showed the official Wehrmacht stamp.

Anna took the letter and turned it around, deciphering her sister Lotte’s army identification number. Lotte worked under the fake identity of Alexandra Wagner as

Wehrmachthelferin,

secretly spying for the British. Anna’s hands trembled even as her mother said, “It’s Lotte’s handwriting, which is a good sign.”

The dead can’t write.

Anna carefully opened the perforation and unfolded the letter, scanning the words before she read them aloud to her mother.

My dear friend Anna,

Thank

you so much for your Christmas wishes which I received two weeks late, because we had moved to another garrison. I am not allowed to tell you the exact location, except that I’m still in Norway. But rest assured, I’m well cared for and the Norwegian people are very nice. I don’t speak a word of their language, but most of them speak some German or English.

You can imagine how grateful I am now for the little English I learned at school. It does help when going to the grocery store or a hairdresser.

Do you remember my friend, Gerlinde? She’s deployed together with me and it’s a relief to have a good friend like her when you’re so far away from home. Unfortunately, she has not heard from her family in East Prussia, but we are all confident that nothing bad happened to them.

Anna’s hand

sunk to her lap. Obviously Lotte had been writing this letter as much for the censors as for her sister. The stories from the refugees pouring into Germany from East Prussia, Silesia and Pomerania didn’t justify believing that nothing bad happened to them.

I hope you,

your sister and your mother are fine and don’t have to suffer too much from the Allied air raids. Has cousin Jan adapted to living with your family? Please tell me everything about your family, as you’re my only link to Germany.

Here, we’re all eagerly awaiting the wonder weapon to end the war, which our Führer says is only a matter of time

.

On that part

Anna agreed with Hitler: the war would end soon. But she didn’t see eye to eye with him on the outcome. A German victory was as improbable as Hitler showing compassion toward a Jew.

It is

with great sorrow I have to tell you that Johann—

“Who is Johann?”

asked her mother with a raised brow.

Anna crunched her nose, not sure what she could reveal. Leutnant Johann Hauser was Lotte’s boyfriend, whom she’d met during her last deployment in Warsaw. Mutter would definitely not approve of her eighteen-year-old daughter having a boyfriend, much less one ten years older. But then, Mutter had almost never approved of anything the free-spirited and strong-willed nestling of the family had done.

“He’s the man who arranged false papers for Jan,” Anna said, telling part of the truth.

Mutter thinned her lips into a line, obviously filling the blanks with her own assumptions.

—has been captured

by the Red Army near Warsaw and is now a prisoner of war. This is all I know about his whereabouts. Please keep him in your prayers.

I’m sending you my very best wishes and hope to see you again one day.

Love,

Alexandra

“I’m

glad she’s still in Norway,” Mutter said after a while.

“Yes, that’s probably one of the safest places in all of Europe right now. I have heard they’ve never seen fighting nor air raids up there,” Anna answered with a wistful smile.

“Write your sister not to return to Berlin if she can avoid it. She’ll be much better off if she can experience the end of the war in Norway.”

“I will.” Anna peered at her mother and really saw her for the first time in a while. Her hair had become gray and wrinkles had been etched into her beautiful face, a permanent frown of sorrow cutting deep into her forehead. In a sudden burst of emotion she wrapped her arms around her mother and said, “Everything will be fine.”

“Off course it will be.” Mutter dabbed at her eyes, pretending to believe Anna’s words.

“I have to leave. See you tonight,” Anna said and returned to her room, waking Jan with a kiss to the top of his head. Now that Ursula was gone and she and Mutter worked all day, he bore the burden of queuing up for rations and whatever else was needed.

“Can I visit Uncle Stan this afternoon?” Jan asked before she left.

“If you are careful to sneak in when the doctors don’t see you and never speak a single word in Polish with him,” she warned him.

“I promise,” he vowed, beaming his brightest smile at her, and suddenly the day didn’t seem so bleak anymore.

“Love you, Jan. Take care and I’ll see you in the afternoon.” She ruffled his hair, looking at his glacial blue eyes that reminded her so much of his father. She had to stay strong. For Jan.

At the hospital she visited Stan, who was even grumpier than usual. His stump had healed very well, but mentally and emotionally he worsened by the day and she feared he might do something stupid.