War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 214

Chapter 28: Stan

M

ore than a month ago, he’d woken after the surgery only half a man. A cripple. His hopes, his future, everything shattered. They had destroyed his manhood, the ability to take care of himself or anyone else.

Why didn’t they let me die? Peter should have saved himself and not me. I never deserved it. I should be where Jarek is, dead and dumped into a ditch.

His hand fingered the stump. It was well-healed and they’d taken the bandages away, but he refused to look at the

thing

that hung from his hip. That useless stump of itching and burning flesh.

Anna assured him it looked good, but she was a nurse. She had lied to make him feel better. He’d seen the disgust in Jan’s eyes when the boy had first caught a glimpse of the fiery-red skin with the large and ugly scar.

No woman would ever find him attractive again. The thought stabbed at his heart. He was so young, and yet he’d never again be able to enjoy lying with a woman. He’d have to finish his days on earth celibate.

I should become a Catholic priest

.

Roaring laughter escaped his throat at the thought of a priest who’d known nothing but war since becoming an adult, killing more men than he wanted to remember.

“Are you alright, Herr Zdanek?” The peachy blonde nurse poked her head inside the room.

He’d tried flirting with her before, but she was immune to his charms, pretending to be engaged. But he knew better. She was appalled by him. Everyone was appalled by him.

When she left the room, he sank against the pillow, not able to look any longer at the flatness of the sheet where his leg should be. He closed his eyes and let out a loud cry, tears threatening to spill. He stared at the ceiling until dark shadows danced in front of his eyes from the strain.

A creaking noise made him jerk his head toward the door.

“Hi, Uncle Stan, how are you?” Jan slid into the room with a bright smile on his face. But not even Jan’s presence could lighten his mood today.

“Bad.”

“But Anna told me your leg healed well.” Jan approached his bed, his brows knit together in confusion.

“I don’t have my leg anymore. They took it away, if you don’t remember,” Stan growled.

Jan made a face as if he’d hit him and a sliver of guilt penetrated Stan’s brain, but he brushed it off.

I’m the miserable fellow here, not him. He still has both of his legs

.

“They should have let me die. It would have been better for everyone.”

The boy’s face fell into a grimace of pain, fighting against erupting tears as he crawled up onto the other side of the bed. “No, you can’t die. I need you.”

“Nobody needs me.” Stan wasn’t in the mood for a hug and turned away, saying, “Go. You have better things to do than visit with a cripple.”

Jan swallowed, but didn’t say another word as he slid from the bed and left the room. Stan’s feeling of guilt intensified, but again he brushed it off. It was for the best. Jan shouldn’t have to feel obligated to visit a useless uncle confined to his bed.

In the afternoon Anna entered the room, carrying a huge package beneath her arm. He waited to find out what she had planned this time. She was continually trying to cheer him up and couldn’t seem to understand that he didn’t want to be cheered up. He simply wanted to be left alone.

“How are you, Stan?” she asked with a smile, looking immaculate as always in her nurse’s uniform with her straight blonde hair tied up into a knot at the nape of her neck.

He answered with a growl.

She cocked her head, saying, “I see. Your usual grumpy self.”

“I have every right to be grumpy.”

“Your scar has healed well, and it’s about time you stop wallowing in self-pity and start living again.”

“There’s nothing worth living for me.”

He could see how she took a deep breath to stay calm and even managed to keep the smile on her face. She might have fooled anyone, but by now he knew her well enough to notice the dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Professor Scherer told me you’re well enough to be released from the hospital. He’s arranging for a place for you in one of the better prison hospitals, where you’ll spend the remainder of the war.”

“And that’s supposed to be good news why?” Stan fired back.

With the patience of an angel she explained to him that he was still a prisoner of war and couldn’t be set free, but that the nearby Reservelazarett where he was destined to go was a small prison hospital with dedicated doctors and nurses for VIP patients.

He didn’t care. Should they dump him in the garbage and let him rot alive, he didn’t give one damn.

“Stan, I have a gift for you,” she said, extending her hands with the package.

He refused to take the package so she walked closer and laid it on his lap.

“Open it,” she insisted, a slight tremor of annoyance mixing into her cheerful tone.

Stan sighed, knowing she wouldn’t quit badgering him until he did what she wanted. He tore it open. Anger flared up in his chest, sending a violent burning sensation into every cell of his body as he stared at the monstrosity on his lap.

“How dare you!” he yelled at her. “How dare you bring that…that…thing in here and think it makes everything better?” He picked up the prosthetic leg and threw it at her with all the strength he had. The move caught her by surprise and almost knocked her over when the wooden leg hit her chest. The leg fell to the floor with a loud thump, and Anna rubbed her collarbone.

“This is all your fault! All of it. You should have left me to die in that prison camp,” Stan growled at her.

“Don’t say that,” Anna said with a shaky voice as she picked up the prosthetic and set it on a nearby chair. “Don’t you ever dare say that again.”

“Why not? It’s true. I’d rather be dead than a cripple. You did this to me.”

Anna placed her hands on her hips, rising to her full height. “You ungrateful bastard!”

“Is everything alright in here?” a passing nurse asked.

Anna nodded and then walked over and closed the door, keeping her voice lowered when she spoke to him again. “You are the most ungrateful man I’ve ever encountered and I’m beginning to regret that I ever saved your life.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Stan’s flaring temper was already receding and he regretted being so violent. Even though self-righteousness clawed at every crevice inside him, he shouldn’t have hit her with that damn leg.

“Peter would be ashamed, heartbroken even, he if knew that you’re paying back his sacrifice by acting like a self-centered wimp who cares about nobody but himself.” She took a step toward him, her eyes glaring daggers, and Stan involuntarily inched away from her. “Your brother gave up everything for you.”

“You don’t know that,” Stan fired back to keep the guilt from trickling into his conscience.

“No, you’re right. I don’t know whether he’s dead or alive. But I know that he’s being marched from one camp to another for hundreds of miles through snow and ice. And I know that a huge percentage of prisoners who start out will die along the way. Do you think Peter will be in the minority who survives?”

Stan paused and shook his head. “I didn’t know that he’d been transferred.”

“He’s been transferred twice. The first time by rail car. The second one is still ongoing. Five hundred miles. That’s the distance from Gross Born in Pomerania to Sandbostel where they are headed. On foot. It’s been six weeks and no one knows exactly where they are or if they will ever return. The officials are merely counting the number of dead bodies left along the side of the road.”

“Anna…I’m sorry.” The rage fell off him like dirt under the shower, leaving a surge of shame in its wake. Shame over being so selfish. Peter had possibly sacrificed his life for him and what had he done?

“Don’t be sorry. Be a man. Start by learning to walk.” With treacherously damp eyes she pressed the wooden leg into his arms and left the room.

Stan stared at the door closing behind Anna’s back. He’d promised his brother to take care of Anna and Jan until Peter returned. And that’s exactly what he would do, because Stanislaw Zdanek never backed down from a promise.

He’d been selfish and allowed himself to wallow in self-pity for much too long. The truth of Anna’s recriminations finally settled in, bone deep. He had to accept this new version of reality. He cautiously eyed the wooden leg on his lap. Could that…thing…really help him learn to walk again? Maybe he wasn’t doomed to spend his life as a useless member of society begging for charity?

Stan vowed to make an effort at least. He’d ask the young blonde nurse – not Anna because he didn’t want to admit his change of mind to her just yet – to teach him how to put on the leg and what to do next.