War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 225

Chapter 3

W

aking up without her bones chilled to ice was a welcome change, and Katrina decided to proceed with Richard’s suggestion and ask the farmer for more work. Since they couldn’t reach her mother’s cousin, they might as well stay here until the damned war was finally over.

Indeed, there was more than enough to do, and the farmer seemed pleased with yesterday’s work and offered to extend the deal. Now, in mid-April, when the snow had melted from the fields, it was time to prepare for the planting season.

“You can start ploughing the fields,” the old man said, pointing at the plow under a roof behind the shed.

“What about the tractor?” Richard eyed the rusty vehicle in a corner of the yard.

“No fuel. And no animals. You have to do it yourselves.”

Katrina saw the resignation in Richard’s eyes. Plowing was backbreaking work with an ox to pull the heavy plough, and next to impossible with human power alone.

“We’ll do it,” she said.

Hours later, the sweat running down her back in rivulets, she pressed her hands on her hips and stretched out. Despite the feeble April sun and the low temperature she was burning up from the strenuous work.

“We haven’t done much,” Richard said, stepping beside her and looking down the field.

“No. That damn plough is too heavy and the earth is still hard from the frost.”

“That’s why mankind invented machinery to do it for them. But we have no choice. Let’s continue.”

Thus, they spent day after day consumed with grueling work and fell into an exhausted sleep the moment they’d eaten their evening meal. Sometimes they would see bedraggled refugees traveling west and columns of captured Wehrmacht soldiers marching east.

Richard stopped pulling the plough and looked at the lines of soldiers. “Do you think I’m a coward?”

“You? Why?” Katrina looked at him, tied together in that darned harness that should have been worn by two oxen or horses.

“Because I’m hiding out here. I should be with them.” He nodded over to the captured Wehrmacht soldiers.

“You’re not a coward. Remember that you asked to be transferred to the front line again, because you refused to commit the atrocious crimes against the civilians that were expected of you in Lodz?”

“Hmm.” He fell in step again and whether she wanted to or not, she had to follow his lead. “That still doesn’t make it right. Fact is, I deserted. Any deserter is a coward.”

This time, Katrina stopped and the jerk of the harness caused

him

to lose his step. “That’s not true. You did a very heroic thing when you rescued my nephew and Agnieska.”

“But why should I have it better than they do?” His voice sounded torn with self-doubt.

“Better? Look at us? We’re replacing two oxen in this harness. Does that look like a life of luxury to you?” She wanted to joke, but looking at him, smeared with dirt and sweat from head to toe, the laughter caught in her throat.

“Hmm.” He sighed and pulled at the harness again.

“Look, Richard, the war’s not over yet and if either side found out you’re a Wehrmacht soldier hiding in civilian clothes, you’d be shot on sight.”

“I knew it!” An irate voice shouted at them, making Katrina’s skin crawl. She slowly turned her head and looked into the furious face of the farmer’s wife bringing them their lunch. “German bastards! You’d better leave my farm, before my husband kills you. Filthy rats!”

“Please, it’s not what you think. I’m really a Pole, and he—”

“I’ve heard enough, you Nazi whore! Get off my land.”

Accompanied by shouted profanities Richard and Katrina left the plough stuck in the hard dirt and hurried back to the shed to gather their meager belongings. The farmer, alerted by his wife, entered the shed with a pitchfork. They split up, weaving around him on opposite sides, leaving him unsure of a strategy. That one moment allowed them enough time to slip out of the door and run for their lives until they reached the edge of the forest.

With a pounding heart, Katrina dropped on her knees, before she slumped to the ground, heaving gigantic mouthfuls of air.

“That was close,” Richard murmured after a while. When she turned her head to look at him, she saw the worry in his face. “I was so scared he’d hurt you.”

“Me? I was afraid he’d spear you with that pitchfork,” she answered, still breathless.

Richard rolled over and took her into his arms. “You’re still shaking,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

“Now what?” she said with a feeble voice.

“We need to get away from this place.”

“But where to?”

“I don’t know.” Richard squeezed her shoulders and then helped her up. They started walking without giving thought to the direction, just away from the hostile farmers.

“Stop!” Katrina said after about an hour of senseless walking. “We can’t keep walking without sense and direction. We need a plan.”

A half-smile appeared on Richard’s lips and once again love flooded her heart. With him by her side, she could overcome anything.

“It’s not safe for you here,” she said.

“We’ll walk further away…”

“No, I don’t mean just in this place. We can’t stay here in Poland. It’s not safe for you. You’ve seen the hordes of German refugees fleeing the country.” As the Russians gained ground, the Poles celebrated the liberation from the hated German oppressor and systematically freed each town of German influence. And it wasn’t only the new German settlers that they chased away, but also the ones who’d been living in Poland for generations.

“I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” she said, holding back tears as raw emotion clogged her throat.

“Nothing is going to happen to me.” Richard hugged her close, but she could still see the look of shame and guilt etched on his face. “I have forged Polish papers, so I will just have to be more careful. I’ll keep away from groups of people and keep my head down. I promise to not to speak German anymore. From now on I’ll be one hundred percent Polish. Just like you.”

He pressed a kiss on her lips and Katrina couldn’t help but soften against him. His kiss clouded her clear thinking; it had almost convinced her, when a nagging voice in her head forced her to push away from him.

“It’s not just the language; it’s also your accent. It’s not Polish. It’s not even close,” Katrina said, hoping he’d see the danger of their present situation.

“So, what do you recommend?”

“Let me do the talking from now on,” Katrina suggested.

“Won’t that be suspicious? I’m the man so I am supposed to do the talking.”

“We could tell them your voice is damaged. If you can’t help talking, do it coughing and with a raspy voice. That should help conceal your accent.”

He grinned. “I always knew you wanted to have a say, and this is just a ruse.”

“Richard! I’m dead serious,” she protested.

“I know, darling. And if it puts your mind at ease, you can do all the talking for both of us. You’ll see, we’ll be just fine.”

“That still leaves us with the question of where to go.”

“We could return to your farm in Lodz.” Richard’s suggestion almost broke her heart. She yearned to return to her home, but that wouldn’t be feasible for as long as the Nazis lingered.

“It’s too dangerous. We have to wait out the war first.”

“Well, despite everyone knowing it’ll end soon, it could still take months. So what do we do in the meanwhile?” Richard said, running a hand through his short blond hair.

“We could try to find a way around Breslau and get to my relatives…”

“Or we wait. The siege cannot go on forever. You could ask around in some of the villages. Maybe someone knows about your family.”

“So Breslau it is.” Katrina looked at the position of the sun in the sky and checked the time on her wristwatch. Then she pointed behind them. “That’s west. We need to get out of the forest and find a road that leads west.”

Once they reached the main road, they joined the never-ending trek of German refugees traveling west. Despite the temptation to stay with a bigger group, they kept their distance, making sure they walked out of earshot of other people.

“Look, Richard, how beautiful,” she said with a smile, pointing at white and blue wildflowers that had miraculously survived the trampling hordes of soldiers and fugitives crossing the war-torn country.

“Flowers,” he said with an indulgent smile.

“Beautiful remnants of better times.” She bent down to appreciate the simple yet miraculous life. A bright spot of color in an otherwise gray and dreary world. She reached out her hand to pick the delicate blue and fragile flowers, but then hesitated, her hand hovering inches above the blossoms. While she wanted to keep their beauty with her for just a little while longer, she hated to condemn them to a quick death by her hand. So she glanced at the flowers twinkling in the sunlight and then stood up again, empty-handed.

“Katrina?” Richard’s insistent voice brought her back to the present.

She sighed. “When is this going to end?”

He reached for her hand. “Soon. Keep your spirits up. I know it seems like this war has been going on forever, but the end is near. I can smell defeat in the air.”

“Defeat?” she giggled. “What you’re smelling is artillery smoke.”

“That… and defeat. I was in the Wehrmacht long enough to know how soldiers look when they know it’s over. I saw it in the eyes of the Russians for two years, and now I’m seeing it in the eyes of the captured Germans.”

“Of course the prisoners look defeated. For them it’s over and they’re marching into an uncertain future.”

“It’s not just that. I can’t explain it, but their expressions make it clear it’s not simply a lost battle, the entire war is lost.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. I sure would love to live in peace again and return to our farm.” Katrina was setting one foot in front of the other, not really paying attention to the road, when they rounded a curve and suddenly saw the stronghold of Breslau looming in the distance.

“Oh my God!” She stopped in her tracks, a queasiness taking hold of her stomach.