War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 265

Chapter 12

O

ver the next days, more and more female auxiliaries from all over Scandinavia reached the holding camp, and in addition to food and hygiene, space became scarce.

Lotte almost wept with relief when finally it was announced they would be returned to Germany. No further details were given and wild imaginings abounded.

According to some secret key, they were divided onto military vehicles in groups of twelve. Most of the women from her unit ended up on different trucks, but by some divine miracle, at least Gerlinde stayed by her side.

“I’m so glad we’re in this together,” she confessed as they settled inside the smallish confines of the truck. It was cast in twilight, as the only light entered through holes in the canvas walls.

“We’re going home. Isn’t that exciting?”

“I’ll believe I’m home when I see my family.” For some reason, Lotte had a bad feeling and she feared the worst for her family. The pictures she’d seen in the newspaper were devastating. There was nothing left to speak of in her beloved country. All major cities had been reduced to rubble by the incessant bombing and she hadn’t even recognized Berlin from the aerial photograph on the front page.

How anyone could live amidst such utter devastation was beyond her imagination. She wished she could send a postcard to her mother, telling her she was coming home. But with the paper shortage and the postal service not working, this was wishful thinking.

“Where are we going?” someone asked as two British soldiers came to secure the flap to the tailgate.

“Shut up, bitch,” one of them said, spitting on the floor and yanking the door closed.

The man’s rudeness put a damper on Lotte’s excitement at going home. She had seen the unabated hate in the eyes of the young man. Hate and grief. So many youths on both sides wouldn’t make it home.

“What a nasty chap,” a pretty redhead called Hertha complained.

“He has every right to be nasty, after what we did.”

“We did? I did nothing wrong,” another woman complained.

Lotte bit her tongue. It was best to keep silent and not stir the emotions already running high. The girl might actually believe what she said. So many had closed their eyes to the atrocities happening and had deluded themselves into believing thinly fabricated lies.

Labor camps for the work-shy. Re-education camps for troubled youth. Resettlement for the Jews. She’d bet her right arm that none of the women in the truck had ever been inside a concentration camp and suffered first hand from the inhumane treatment.

“Shush, I can hear the men argue,” a big-boned brunette girl said.

“Whattaya understand, Maria?”

“Billund. They want to drop us off in Billund. Oh no, the sergeant says they have to take us to Gram. They complain it’s too far and they have leave tonight…he canceled the leave…our drivers are furious.”

Loud banging of the driver’s cab doors as they slammed shut interrupted Maria’s translation.

“Very furious, indeed.” Lotte giggled, which earned her elbow punches from left and right.

“Not funny!”

The motor roared into action and the vehicle bolted forward.

“We’re moving,” Gerlinde said needlessly.

“Gram? From there it’s not too far to the border at Flensburg,” Hertha said.

“That’s where my sweetheart was stationed. Do you think I’ll find him there?” Maria asked.

“Dream on,” Gerlinde laughed. “He’ll be long gone, marched off to some prison camp.”

“If he even survived…” Hertha said, and Maria made a face as if she might cry.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just… this bloody war…” Hertha grimaced. “I was quite happy with my life. Had just started my apprenticeship as seamstress when they conscripted me into this bloody uniform.”

“You were conscripted?” Lotte asked, her eyes round. “I thought the female auxiliaries were strictly voluntary.”

“Usually yes, but in some cases when there weren’t enough women in a district joining up, the party leaders would just conscript girls to make their numbers,” a woman in her late twenties explained.

“You have no idea the hoops I had to jump through to even be considered for joining up,” Lotte said.

“Didn’t your parents give permission?” Hertha asked.

“They… were long dead when I decided to join up. Bombed out in Cologne. I was lucky to get out with my life.”

Everyone in the truck nodded. Each of them had witnessed enough air raids to last for many lifetimes and lost more relatives and friends than they dared to keep track.

The journey took many hours, and they stopped every few minutes, waiting. Maria pressed into the corner peeked out a hole between the canvas and the solid side, relaying what she saw.

“The road’s in real bad condition and I haven’t seen so many vehicles in years. It’s like evening traffic in Munich before the war.”

“Oh, yes.” Lotte remembered how it had been in Berlin, before gas rationing and the commandeering of private vehicles for military purposes.

“And soldiers… so many...” Maria said.

“What nationality?”

“Can’t see… oh, wait. That’s ours in

feldgrau

. Must be thousands being marched around. Over there, that must be British, I believe, by the happy smiles on their faces.”

Lotte leaned back, closing her eyes as she listened to Maria’s chatter. She could have done without it, but the others seemed intent on knowing what happened outside their little confines.

“Ah, a beautiful castle. It looks completely intact.”

“Maybe that’s where we’ll be going,” Hertha said and the others laughed. “There may even be a handsome prince there, waiting to welcome you, Maria.”

“I doubt if a handsome Danish prince will look at you kindly, my girl,” Gerlinde objected. “They kind of disliked it when we invaded their country.”

“Ah, but Danish soldiers were disarmed without a fight and let go, and those captured were allowed to return to their units,” Hertha laughed. “Don’t you think that earns us some lenience?”

“No, I don’t believe they share your sentiments, dear,” Gerlinde wouldn’t relent, but Lotte knew she purposely kept the witty banter going to keep up morale.

“Some of the lorries are going elsewhere.” Maria made the observation from her peephole.

“Probably splitting us up for convenience.”

“We’re sticking together, Gerlinde.” Lotte clutched her friend’s arm tightly.

“There are quite a lot of people on the roads, traveling with their belongings. I wonder who they are and where they’re going.”

Lotte jumped as the truck plummeted into a pothole. She shrieked when her bum hit the hard floor again and searched for something to hold onto. Gerlinde came to her rescue and pushed her upright again.

“Oh my, that hurt.” She rubbed her behind, hoping this journey would end soon. The truck came to a screeching halt and she bumped her head against the canvas wall.

Bloody driver

. The door of the driver’s cab opened and slammed shut.

“Seems we’ve arrived at our destination,” Lotte said.

After a while, the motor started up, the vehicle set into motion and then stopped again. The flap opened and the two soldiers driving them appeared. One of them pointed his rifle at the women, while the other one said, “Get down, everyone.”

One woman after another jumped down from the truck bed, walking unsteadily on stiff legs. Lotte gave her surroundings a once-over and from what she saw, they were inside a former German garrison that now hosted British forces.

Huge numbers of soldiers milled about, but as far as she could see her group of women were the only German prisoners, and the only females. The fine hair on her neck rose up and she wondered why their guards had brought them here. They were frog-marched to a dilapidated hut at the very end of the compound.

“We’re just grabbing a bite before bringing you to the prison camp,” the younger of the two soldiers explained. “You wait here.”

Then the two men disappeared and locked the door behind them. Lotte inspected her new prison. The hut must have previously been used as stables, for there were two horse boxes with earthen ground, leftover straw, a tiny storage room and a sink. She walked over to open the faucet and much to her surprise, it actually worked and fresh, clear water came rushing out.

Greedily she formed a bowl with her hands and drank her fill, then washed her face and hands in a cat’s lick before her impatient comrades shoved her from the delightful source of liquid to refresh themselves.

“What do you think they’ll do with us?” Gerlinde sidled up alongside her, pacing the small hut to get the blood in her legs flowing again.

“You heard them. A POW camp around here.”

“But why did we stop here first? It doesn’t make sense.”

Lotte scoffed. “Nothing makes sense since we left Stavanger in a rush. That private was too hungry to carry on.”

Hertha joined their conversation. “I’ll bet I’m hungrier. We haven’t had a bite since morning.”

“Don’t even mention food.”

“It won’t take long. I’m sure we’ll get something once they’ve processed us in the camp.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gerlinde pursed her lips. “So far the victors haven’t shown a great deal of organization.”

Lotte was willing to cut the Allies some slack. “You have to give them credit. Feeding enemy prisoners is probably not a high priority on their list.”

“I just want to return to my family,” Ada, a very young-looking girl, said.

“How come you’re even here? You’re how old?” It was the more mature Hertha who asked the question.

Ada paled. “My parents wouldn’t allow me to join up, so I fibbed a tiny bit with my age. But I turned eighteen last month.”

“How stupid of you!” Gerlinde threw up her hands and Ada looked as if she wanted to cry.

A wave of empathy engulfed Lotte. She’d been impulsive and stubborn like Ada when she was her age. Even though she had only two years on her, it felt like a decade. Or two. So much had happened.

I have changed

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