War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 228

Chapter 6

T

hree days later, Germany capitulated and the war finally ended. Richard gave a huge sigh; maybe now everything would get better.

He and Katrina ventured out into the city of Breslau, looking for work, or food, or… anything. But they found… nothing.

The city lay moribund, the infrastructure in ruins and the inhabitants scurrying like rats to vacuum up morsels of food. The incessant bombing had left the dying city without hospitals, waterworks or even a sewer system.

Richard scrunched up his nose at the stink of a man relieving himself right there on the street for everyone to see and smell. The man seemed to suffer from diarrhea and when Richard noticed red dots on his half-exposed back, he took Katrina aside. “That looks an awful lot like typhus. We should get out of here.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. With the unhygienic conditions in here and the lack of proper food and medication it was only a matter of time before the first disease broke out.”

“Can’t we return to your farm, now that the war is over?” He dreaded the hundred-mile walk back, but it was the safest place to be.

If

the farm still existed.

“It’s something we can try.” Katrina agreed with him, but he could see by the frown on her forehead that she didn’t like the idea.

They walked to the next corner and saw a bunch of people tearing down street signs and shop signs, talking in rapid-fire Polish he didn’t understand. They threw the signs onto a pile with books, gramophone records and German flags, gripped by an iconoclastic fury as the hatred against anything German burst free.

“What the hell are they doing?” Richard mumbled. He wanted to approach the group, but felt Katrina’s hand on his arm.

“Don’t.”

“Why not? They’re destroying what little is left of the city.”

She gave a deep sigh and said, “They’re taking down anything and everything that reminds them of the Germans. Doing drastic things like that is cathartic for them.”

“But this city has been of German heritage for centuries.” Richard felt a queasiness roil his stomach as he saw someone mount a sign that said

Wroclaw Registry. Poles only.

In their quest to rid the city they had stolen from Germany of every trace of the former population, the new administration had renamed the city from Breslau to Wroclaw, and continued to rename every street, place, shop, and church with Polish names.

Over the next days an influx of Poles being resettled from the eastern lands of Poland that now suddenly belonged to Russia were expected, and the autochthonous German population had to leave.

Moments later a young man bumped into him and Richard felt the cold blade of a knife pressed against his side.

“Give me your jacket,” the thief demanded.

Richard gazed at the frightened face of the man dressed in rags. The youth looked about his age but was at least half a head shorter and incredibly skinny. Despite the pity he felt for the desperate boy, he wouldn’t hand over the only jacket he owned.

“Alright, lad,” he said and raised his hands. Katrina’s eyes widened with horror as she grasped the situation and he mouthed a silent “run” in her direction. Then he turned in a swift move and grabbed the thief’s hand with all his might.

The thief let out a cry and the knife fell to the ground. Richard kicked it away with his foot so Katrina could pick it up. Then he shoved the thief to the ground, took Katrina’s hand and ran.

When they dared to stop, he looked at her, his decision made. He would not return to the city now named Wroclaw.

“Let’s go to the tunnels,” Katrina said. “We’re not safe here.”

In front of the entrance to the tunnels, they met Barbara waving at them with a proud expression. “We’ve found a new home to live!”

“Great. Where?”

“Pack your things and come with us. We’re just moving everything over there,” Barbara’s husband Edmund said.

Richard merely nodded and followed Katrina inside to pack the few things they owned. Barbara and Edmund waited for them, giddy like two adolescents.

“This way,” Edmund said and led the way across the village to a row of tidy houses adjacent to the city wall. Miraculously, they stood sturdily without the least bit of damage, even the window panes were still intact.

“We have to share this house with two other families, but we secured one room on the ground floor for us alone.” Barbara beamed and entered the hallway. Stairs led up to the second floor, but she stayed on the ground level and showed them the small space, consisting of a tiny toilet near the entrance and a huge kitchen that was destined to be the communal gathering and cooking place.

Richard peered at the laid table, a queasy feeling taking a hold of his stomach. The entire kitchen looked as if someone had lived in here for ages. But how could that be, when Barbara and the other families had just moved in?

He touched the big pot on the range. It was still warm.

“Isn’t it wonderful? And wait until you see our private room!” Edmund said and opened the door on the other side of the small hallway, stepping into a big, fully furnished living room. The old sofa, coffee table and armchairs reminded Richard of his grandmother’s place.

“This will be our living and sleeping room. After living so long in those tunnels, this seems like paradise. We’ll no longer have to put up with the snoring of old Karol.” Barbara kept on praising the virtues of her new home, but Richard stopped listening the moment he saw a picture of a five-person family on the mantel piece. He stepped nearer and lifted the framed photograph depicting a man and a woman with three small, blond children.

Something about the image triggered him and he took a closer look until he finally realized it. The father of the family wore a Wehrmacht uniform. Hot jolts of rage ran through his veins as he turned around and said in an accusing tone, “You kicked out the family who owns this house to move in yourselves?”

“They were German,” Edmund said.

“And that gives you the right to—“ Richard stopped mid-sentence, because Katrina gave him an angry glare and stepped in front of him, saying, “I’m sorry, Ryszard always gets upset when something reminds him of how his family was evicted from their house. He’ll calm down.”

“He’d better,” Edmund murmured and turned away to move the sofa, so they would have space to put their mattresses. But Barbara’s gaze lingered on Richard and he sensed her suspicion as she scrutinized him.

He feared he’d given himself away with his short burst of temper. No Pole would be angry at the eviction of a German family from their home. For the rest of the day he kept his mouth shut and helped Barbara and Edmund to make themselves at home in the stolen house. He wondered what had happened to the German family.

The father probably was a prisoner of war now – or dead. The mother with her three small children was out somewhere fighting for survival. He balled his hands into fists, ready to barge outside and look for them. But there was nothing he could do. His own survival hung by a thin thread.

The times he and Katrina ventured out into the city, he was struck by the violence gaining momentum. Armed gangs roamed the streets, looting everything they found. He witnessed the lynchings and public hangings in Wroclaw. And every day the persecution of the German citizens became more fervent and the punishments more extreme. He looked away when men were beaten to death and women and children were led away to the cellars.

A small part of his brain understood the hatred of the Poles and their need for revenge, but the bigger part sought a reconciliation. Now that peace officially prevailed again in Europe, shouldn’t the people return to their lives instead of hunting down those who’d done them wrong?

Of course, the real perpetrators like Gauleiter Hanke shouldn’t get away with impunity, but was it necessary to punish those who hadn’t committed atrocious crimes just because of their nationality? Should the former lady of this house be punished for being a supporter of the regime? Where should that line be drawn?

His head ached as he sought to solve the conundrum.

“What’s wrong?” Katrina asked him more than once, but he couldn’t even meet her eyes. Did she, too, believe it was alright to throw a mother and her children out of their home?

After taking supper with the two families who lived upstairs, everyone retreated to their rooms to sleep. When the noises faded, and the twilight fell over the land, Barbara closed the door to their room and said, “Isn’t it about time you told us the truth about yourself, Ryszard Blach?”

Droplets of ice froze him in place and he felt a shiver running down his spine. Quickly assessing the situation, he noticed no escape route. Edmund stood in front of the only window and Barbara blocked the door. Katrina walked up to him and put her hand around his waist.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“I noticed as much, but that doesn’t explain his love for the Germans.” Barbara cast an accusatory glare at Katrina.

“And his very German accent,” Edmund said.

Richard’s heart pounded so loudly against his ribs, he barely heard their words. He held his tongue, struggling not to defend himself, knowing if he did it would only worsen the dangerous situation.

“He has Polish papers. I can show them to you,” Katrina said in a desperate attempt to save his cover.

“Wouldn’t be the first man with forged papers. A coward trying to evade war captivity?”

“I’m not a coward!” Richard stepped forward. “It is true; I’m German. I was in the Wehrmacht.”

His confession brought expressions of shock and anger to the faces of Barbara and Edmund, but before they could utter a word, he said, “Please, let me explain. More than one year ago I deserted, because I didn’t want to be part of the atrocities against civilians committed in Lodz.”

“How convenient.” Edmund spit on the floor. “It’s still a cowardly thing to do.”

“Richard is no coward – he rescued my nephew Janusz and my sister-in-law Agnieska from the Ghetto.”

A glimmer of admiration appeared on Barbara’s face as she said, “Piotr’s son? With that Jewish girl? What was her name again?”

“Ludmila,” Katrina answered.

“What happened to her?”

“She died early on of sickness in the Ghetto. Her sister Agnieska took care of Janusz. Richard got them out just before the Ghetto was closed and everyone transferred to Chelmno.”

At the mention of Chelmno a visible shudder went through Barbara’s body. She moved away from the door, taking a few tentative steps toward Richard. “Is this true?”

“Yes, it is. After that I couldn’t return to the Wehrmacht. Katrina hid me on her farm.”

“Please, Barbara, Edmund. I know this is a lot to ask, but will you keep Richard’s identity a secret? You know what will happen to him if the mob discovers his true heritage.”

“He’ll be killed,” Edmund stated plainly. “And God knows, he deserves it. Only a dead German is a good German.”

Richard once again assessed the situation. The Adamskis had lost two sons to the war, a third one still missing. Edmund was eaten up by hate for the Germans. Now that Barbara wasn’t blocking the door anymore he could run for it. But how far would he get? It would take Edmund less than ten seconds to rush outside and scream,

Stop him, he’s a German

. No, flight wasn’t the answer. He was completely and utterly at the mercy of the Adamskis.

“Please, Barbara. For the sake of family. For my mother,” Katrina pleaded with them. Richard saw how the stern expression on Barbara’s face softened and she finally said, “Alright. But we’ll deny any knowledge should he be found out.”

“Thank you.” Katrina wrapped her arms around her mother’s cousin. “We’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Richard said.

A wave of relief flowed over him as the immediate danger abated, but a sense of foreboding nagged at him. Deep in his heart, he knew it.

Trouble was coming.