War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 248

Chapter 26

T

wo American soldiers faced Richard across the table in the small interrogation room. They’d been asking him the same questions for hours on end, alternating between threats and friendly persuasion as they played the age-old game of good cop and bad cop.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but they seemed to be looking for something in particular. At least he thought it quite unusual for them to spend such an exorbitant amount of time interrogating a simple suspected Wehrmacht soldier. They could simply have handed him over to the Russians, or let him pass. Why were they making such a fuss?

His body and mind were getting tired and he could barely concentrate on their never-ceasing questions. It had become oppressively hot in the barracks as the sun burnt down on the concrete barracks with the ribbed roof. Richard’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and it felt like he was gnawing on sawdust.

“May I have some water please?” he finally asked.

“If it were up to me, you could rot away for eternity, Nazi pig,” the younger soldier who’d introduced himself as Private Jones said.

The higher-ranking man, though, Corporal Purvis, ordered, “Get him a glass of water, since we don’t want him to die on

our

watch.”

Richard gratefully took the offered glass of water and gulped it down, even though he hadn’t missed the hidden threat the sergeant had issued. Purvis certainly was the more experienced interrogator and was well-versed in all the tricks of the trade. Even worse, he made it clear that he didn’t believe a single word Richard said.

Deciding to take the bull by the horns, Richard leaned back in his chair, locked eyes with the sergeant and asked, “What do you want?”

“The truth.”

“I’ve been telling you the truth.” Even to his own ears it sounded like the feeble lie it was.

“Look, I’m at the end of my patience and we have other means to make you talk… Horst Altdorf,” Corporal Purvis said, his perceptive eyes never leaving Richard’s face.

Richard’s heart plummeted into his boots. They didn’t actually think he was SS-Oberscharführer Altdorf, or did they?

Of course, they did.

The lengthy interrogation suddenly made sense. He’d never personally met Altdorf, but the man’s reputation preceded him. Altdorf was one of the most depraved SS men, only comparable to his mentor, the sadistic devil himself, SS-Oberführer Dirlewanger.

“I’m not Altdorf.” Richards voice trembled with fear, but also with anger. How could they even believe he was capable of doing such awful things? He’d witnessed his share of ugly crimes and even years later his stomach heaved at the images his mind conjured up.

“If you aren’t Horst Altdorf, then there isn’t a reason to go pale in shock like you just did,” the corporal said, his mind made up.

“I swear. My name is Richard Klausen and I’ve never been a member of the SS,” Richard stubbornly insisted, although he knew that whatever he said, they wouldn’t believe it. He knew what happened to SS men caught by the Allies and he certainly preferred to be sent into Russian captivity than to be tried and hanged – for crimes he hadn’t committed.

There was no other way to save himself but to tell them the truth. If they even believed him, after he’d spun his maze of lies for so many hours.

“That’s what they all say,” Purvis answered. “I haven’t come across a single German who was fond of the Nazis since I arrived here. Were the last six years only an outgrowth of a wicked fantasy? A collective nightmare that never existed?”

“Of course not. The Nazis were all too real and the people who supported them, too.” Richard paused, rubbing a hand across his beard, making a difficult decision. “If I tell you the truth, will you let Katrina cross the border and get someplace safe? Please?”

Corporal Purvis settled back in his seat, a pleased look upon his face. “I cannot promise such a thing until I hear what you have to say, but we’re not after civilian followers.”

Richard nodded and then took a steadying breath. “I’m in fact a member of the Wehrmacht—” A knock on the door interrupted him.

“Come in,” Purvis said. Moments later a key turned in the lock and the door opened as a uniformed officer stepped inside. Richard recognized him as a sergeant and stood up. He could just as well stop pretending he didn’t know about military protocols.

The sergeant ignored Richard and walked straight to Purvis. “How’s the interrogation going?”

“Good. He was about to tell us the truth.”

“I’ll sit with you, if you don’t mind?” Purvis bowed his head and motioned for Private Jones to offer his seat to the sergeant.

“The woman talked,” the sergeant said and then finally addressed Richard, warning him, “If I were you, I’d make sure to stick to the truth, because when your story doesn’t align with hers…” He made a gesture across his throat and bored his cold brown eyes into Richard, before he continued. “You may sit, prisoner.”

It was all part of the game, but nonetheless had the intended effect on Richard and his knees weakened. Had Katrina truly talked? And what had she told the man? There was no way to know for sure and he could only pray their versions of the story matched.

He began to talk. “At sixteen I was drafted into the Wehrmacht and sent to the Eastern front…” He recounted the entire story without anyone interrupting him.

“So you were never properly discharged?” Corporal Purvis asked as Richard finished his story. He had taken over the interrogation again, after exchanging a glance with his superior.

Richard had no idea whether this was a good sign or a bad one, but at this stage the only thing he cared about was ensuring free passage for Katrina. They could do with him whatever they wanted after this interrogation, but he’d beg on his knees for her safety if he had to.

“No, sir. After the partisans captured me the Wehrmacht must have believed me dead.” He shrugged. “I would have been if it weren’t for Katrina. She saved me from hanging on a lamppost and then nursed me back to health.”

“Why didn’t you return to your unit after you were fit again?”

“Because…” He grimaced as the memories assaulted him. “My unit had been tasked to assist the SS with clearing out the Ghetto in Lodz. I just couldn’t return. And I would have endangered Katrina, because neither my people nor hers would have appreciated her efforts to heal me.”

Corporal Purvis’ eyebrows shot up at the mention of the ghetto, but his superior exchanged a glance with him that silenced him.

“I wonder…” Sergeant Raymond pressed the fingertips of his hands against each other, raising them to touch his chin. Whether he wanted or not, Richard’s gaze fixated on the motionless expression of the man who held sway over his fate.

A long silence ensued, making Richard squirm in his seat, before the sergeant finally completed his sentence. “I wonder, why did this young Polish woman save you? That does sound a bit far-fetched to me.”

Richard’s brain went into overdrive and he feverishly tried to assess what Katrina had told them. Apparently not the part about how he and she first met. In Baluty.

He swallowed. “We had met before.”

“Oh well,

that

does sound interesting,” Raymond said, a lazy smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards. “I’d love to hear more.”

Richard groaned, but he didn’t have much of a choice. “We were out on a mission to retaliate for the explosion of a bridge.”

“You mean cold-blooded murder?” Private Jones approached the table and stared at him with the hate of an entire world in his eyes.

Ignoring the private’s attack, Richard continued, “The SS joined us and killed every single male in the village, before—“

“Does that village have a name?” Purvis asked.

“Baluty.”

The eyes of the two NCOs darkened and they said at the same time. “No joke. You participated in the infamous massacre of Baluty?”

Cold sweat poured down Richard’s back, making him shiver in the heat. He’d just dug his own grave. “Well, yes and no. Our commanding officer pulled us out when the killing began. We were just about to leave when I saw Katrina trying to hide in a barn. Unfortunately, one of the SS men had seen her, too and wanted to have some fun. I claimed my rights as the first one to spot her and when I returned, I told them I’d had to shoot her for struggling too hard.”

Jones’s mouth gaped wide open, while the more senior men didn’t show a trace of emotion.

“That explains why she felt compelled to save your life. But it doesn’t absolve you from the crimes you committed.”

Richard’s eyes threatened to fill with tears and he furiously blinked them away. “Now you know why I deserted. Doing so was a crime against my army and my nation and I’m willing to pay the price. Hand me over to the Russians, or court-martial and shoot me, but please, don’t punish Katrina for my actions.”

“Not so fast, young man,” Raymond said and waved at the other two Americans. He got up, walked over to the door, knocked, waited for someone from outside to unlock it, and then the three of them disappeared, leaving a very bewildered Richard behind.

He was as good as dead.

And his final wish as a man destined for the gallows… was to see his beloved Katrina one last time.