War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 279

Chapter 26

“D

on’t despair,” Gerlinde said and took Lotte’s hand.

There it was again, the caring friendship they’d almost lost over the constant slew of lies Lotte had fed her friend.

Gerlinde dragged her friend behind, stopping every now and then to ask passersby about a place to spend the night. Finally, a young woman said her mother owned a small inn in a village outside Hamburg.

“I’m going there right now, and you’re welcome to come with me. Not many paying guests these days,” the woman told them.

“We would be more than happy,” Gerlinde said.

Lotte could only stare with dull eyes. The desolate state of Hamburg had slashed her reserves, making her fold beneath the oppressive weight of sorrow for her family. She nodded to everything Gerlinde arranged, unable to voice an opinion of her own.

Today, she was happier than ever before to have a dear friend to rely on. On her own, she’d have stayed at the empty train platform waiting for the railway tracks to be fixed in days, weeks or months time. Today she’d run out of strength and needed someone to take care of her.

The woman led them to a place where a horse with a cart waited. “Please hop on. This is our transport.”

The old-fashioned horse-cart would have looked utterly displaced in the vibrant city of Hamburg less than five years ago. Now, it blended nicely with the gray and dull ruins of debris lining the street.

Lotte barely found the strength to climb atop and then slumped against the bench for the one-hour ride. She barely noticed when they arrived in good time in a quaint little village and stopped in front of an ancient cottage with an unbalanced appearance, but otherwise sturdy and surprisingly untouched by the mayhem that had engulfed Hamburg.

The innkeeper, Frau Konrad, was elated to receive guests and showed them a nice room with two big beds made of oak timber, a wardrobe in the same wood, two chairs and a small table. In one corner of the room was a white washbasin with running cold water.

Lotte bent down and let the cold liquid flow over her hands and forearms, splashing it into her face and on her décolleté. Slowly, her life spirits awakened again.

“Thank you Gerlinde, for taking charge,” she said, offering her friend a one-armed hug.

“That doesn’t mean I stopped being angry with you,” Gerlinde answered, thin-lipped.

“I know. And I apologize again. I should have told you as soon as the war ended. But I was afraid you wouldn’t understand, would hate me for lying to you…” She gazed at her friend and both of them started laughing.

“You were right. I hate you for lying to me.”

“Don’t hate me, please. I never meant to hurt you. But I was sworn to secrecy by those who helped me to escape from the camp.”

“Why don’t you tell me, how you escaped—” A knock on the door interrupted their discussion.

“

Herein

,” Lotte said, relieved to postpone the explanation.

Frau Konrad peeked her head inside. “Is everything to your liking,

meine Damen

?”

“Yes, Frau Konrad. Thank you very much.”

“At what time would you like to come down for supper? I have potato stew.”

“Whenever it suits you best,” Lotte replied, noticing a rumble in her empty stomach.

“Well, then, in twenty minutes would be fine.” Frau Konrad closed the door and they heard the click-clack of her shoes going down the stairs.

“Let’s get ready,” Lotte said.

“I know what you’re doing here.” Gerlinde gave herself a cat’s lick at the washbasin.

“What am I doing?”

“Evading my questions.” Combing her long, blond hair, Gerlinde peered into the mirror and caught Lotte’s eye.

“Alright, I’ll tell you. Just not right now. It’s difficult for me to remember that time in my life.” Lotte sighed.

Gerlinde gave her a weary look, but didn’t press the issue and, punctual like good Germans, they showed up downstairs in the restaurant attached to the kitchen. Frau Konrad’s daughter carried a big pot of steaming hot stew to the table. A delicious aroma wafted through the room, making Lotte’s mouth water.

Apart from them one old couple sat around the only table. They looked the worse for wear and Lotte wondered what horrible experiences they had witnessed. She didn’t have to wait too long until the old man asked them where they were headed.

“Berlin,” she blurted out, casting an apologetic glimpse at Gerlinde.

His face turned ashen and his wife’s hands began to tremble. “It’s not a place anyone would want to be in. Especially not pretty young ladies like you.”

“I know about the risks,” Lotte said. “But I have to go and find my family.”

“You know nothing!” the old woman yelled, her eyes rolling in a crazed expression. Then she sank back against her chair, as if someone had hammered a nail into a tire and deflated it. “You have no idea!”

“We just escaped from there.” The man explained his wife’s behavior. “Nobody is safe there. People are starving. Women are… the Ivan is a monster. He has no shame or decency.”

“You’re probably right.” Lotte had no intention of arguing with the old couple, especially when she could clearly see the devastating effect the conversation had on the wife. Changing the topic she said, “I’ve heard this area is prone to subsidence. Is this true?”

Frau Konrad, who’d just entered the guest room to remove the dishes, answered the question. “It is,

mein Fräulein.

This area sits on deposits of salt and the land is constantly shifting and sinking.”

“Is that dangerous?” Lotte asked, almost laughing at herself. Who would worry about a bit of subsidence after five years of air raids? “Can we expect the roof to collapse while we’re asleep?”

“No, of course not. The subsidence is gradual, it happens over centuries, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Later, when they were each lying in their own bed, Gerlinde asked, “Wouldn't it be prudent to do as advised and go to see your aunt in the American zone? She might have news of your family. They might even be with her.”

“First, I must find my sisters and my mother. Anna is a nurse and Mutter worked in an ammunitions factory. Neither of them would have been allowed to leave Berlin by the bastard who shot himself when things became dire.” Lotte spit out the words.

“Shushh… if someone hears you.”

“What then? The war’s over and we’re free to speak our mind again. At least as long as it’s against Hitler. Not so sure about criticizing our new rulers.”

“Alex… I mean, Lotte… everyone tells us Berlin is off limits. Can’t you at least wait till conditions improve? In a month’s time things might look different and you can go to Berlin without risking your life.”

“You don’t really expect me to take it easy and drink more tea?” Lotte grinned at the thought of herself taking up the attitude of a bored English noblewoman with a fine china cup of English Breakfast tea in her hand, the little finger extended

graciously

.

“There is no real tea on the market, if you haven’t noticed,” Gerlinde replied dryly, before she burst out in a fit of giggles. “And no, I can’t imagine you sitting back and waiting.”

“Please, come with me to Berlin.” Lotte suddenly had the urge to make sure of the support of her friend.

Gerlinde sighed. “I’m not coming.”

Deep inside Lotte had known the answer already, but it still hit her in the gut. Having to continue the journey on her own seemed so… daunting. Impossible, almost.

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because… I’m tired, worn out. I just want to take it easy and drink more tea. Make inquiries about the whereabouts of my family. And if I find out something, I’ll travel to meet them wherever they are. Staying in the British zone, right here, near Hamburg is the best course of action for my plans.”

“You could do this in Berlin, too,” Lotte protested feebly.

“Do you even listen to what other people tell you? Since we left Stavanger every single person told us that Berlin is the last place on earth you should go. My family ran away from the Red Army, I’m not setting foot into the Soviet zone. Over my dead body.”

Lotte understood Gerlinde’s thinking, and she knew it was the rational thing to do. The safe choice. But where she was concerned, family loyalty was far more important than her own safety. Anna had sacrificed so much for Lotte, the least she could do was to try and find her sister now.

Gerlinde spoke up again. “Frau Konrad said I can earn my board working for her. And I’m free to travel to Hamburg when needed to make inquiries about my family with the authorities and the Red Cross. I’m sorry, but I can’t come with you. I just can’t.”

Lotte heard her friend’s labored breath in the darkness and she physically felt the guilt emanating from the other woman.

“Don’t feel guilty. This is my choice. I hope you find your family.”

“And I hope you find yours.”

Saying

goodbye the next morning was the hardest thing to do. They held each other for the longest time, knowing they might not ever meet again. With tear-filled eyes, Lotte waved back at the quaint little house until it faded from view.

“Don’t worry too much,” Lukas, a neighbor of the innkeeper, said to her as he drove his truck down the road. He worked for the British, transporting all kinds of goods to feed the starving population, and had offered her a ride about halfway to Berlin to the border with the Soviet zone.

“I don’t,” she lied, because she was scared to death after all she‘d heard. In addition, she already missed her friend and, like having a limb freshly severed, she felt as if Gerlinde was still attached to her.

“We’re here,” he said, stopping the truck in a town called Schnackenburg.

Lotte bid her goodbyes, gritted her teeth and took off for the ferry across the Elbe River that separated the British from the Soviet sector. After all she’d heard, she’d thought it would be much harder to cross, especially since she still didn’t have a valid travel permit for Berlin. The flimsy checkpoint at the ferry landing was manned only by two visibly drunken Red Army soldiers.

“

Schöne Frau, komm!

” one of them said with a heavy accent.

A shudder ran down her spine, so she was afraid to follow his order,

Come here, pretty doll

. But what choice did she have? There was only one way to cross the Elbe – swimming in the strong current was out of the question – and it meant she had to pass the checkpoint and board the ferry.

She mustered every last ounce of her courage and held her identification papers in front of her chest like a shield. The soldier took them with one hand and swiftly wrapped his other hand around her shoulders, pressing a slobbery kiss on her lips. Lotte stood stiff as a pole, swallowing down the bile in her throat and waited with growing terror for what would happen next.

“

Не здесь

,” the other soldier barked. Lotte was too terrified to hear what else he was saying. She understood the words

no

and

here

and wanted to weep with relief when he let go of her.

He gave his comrade an angry stare and an even angrier grumble, even as she launched for her papers in his hand. Then she dashed off onto the ferry, her heart thumping and her legs wobbly. As soon as she’d reached the safety of the boat, her knees gave out and she slumped against the railing.

An adolescent boy, thin as a rail, with dark hair and worn clothing hanging from him like a tent, approached her. “I saw what he did.”

Lotte nodded, suppressing the need to retch.

“You were lucky they had work to do,” he said.

She raised her head and looked into warm chocolate-colored eyes. The boy couldn’t be older than maybe thirteen but he had the knowing eyes of an ancient man.

The ferry docked at the other side of the river with a bump, knocking Lotte off-balance. The boy grabbed her hand and didn’t let go of it, even when she’d found her balance again.

“I’m Markus, and you?”

“Alex,” she said, leaving her hand in his. Even though he was only a youth, it gave her the comfort of not being alone in this.

“You have a boy’s name?”

“My full name is Alexandra.” She smiled. “Where are you going?”

His face fell. “Berlin. I hope to find my aunt there, the rest of my family…” His voice became high-pitched and tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. Lotte squeezed his slender hand.

“I’m headed for Berlin, too. Should we make the journey together?” She surprised herself with the offer, since she’d known him for less than five minutes. But his childish face had looked so incredibly sad… and sweet. He wouldn’t harm her. They’d be better off together.

“But not the way you’re dressed,” he grinned, nodding at her fancy dress. Despite wear, dust and dirt, Karen’s dress still stuck out against the other travelers like a sore thumb. “Except if you want to attract the attention of the Ivans.”

“Goodness, no!” she exclaimed. “But I don’t have anything else to wear.”

“Leave it to me.”

They left the ferry hand in hand and walked into the village on the other side. Markus seemed to know his way around, because he pulled her behind him to the cemetery.

Her heart thumped in her chest. “What are we doing here?”

“Finding clothes for you to wear.”

Lotte shuddered and wanted to protest, but Markus had already dashed off and shortly after returned with dusty trousers, shirt and jacket.

“You don’t seriously expect me to put on the clothes of a corpse?” Lotte retreated a step in disgust.

Markus giggled. “In fact, I do. Because we’re going to make a man out of you. Now stop being so squeamish and change out of your dress.”

She glanced at the boy who seemed to think this was a good idea, and a funny one at that. “Will you at least turn around?”

Another giggle left Markus’s mouth. “Can I trust you?”

“You can,” Lotte answered automatically, while she pondered whether she could actually trust him.

“My real name is Martha.”

“M-Martha?” It took a few seconds to register in Lotte’s brain. And then she understood. “Oh.”

“You wouldn’t guess it, now would you?” Martha beamed with pride. “I’ve crossed the Soviet zone twice in search of my family, and no Ivan ever bothered me. Not even once.”

Lotte relented and changed into the suit that had belonged to a short man, but still bagged on her. If it weren’t for the suspenders, she’d lose the trousers with every step she took.

“It looks great,” Martha said. “But you need to keep the jacket closed at all times, because your boobs will betray you.”

Thankfully the jacket could have hosted two of her, and the unflattering garment hid every trace of her female curves.

“Now we just need to take care of your hair.”

No sooner said than done. Martha fumbled a knife from her shoulder bag and Lotte closed her eyes in horror as she attacked her beautiful red curls.

“Done. Even your mother wouldn’t recognize you.” Martha put a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. Is she still alive?”

“I hope so. In fact, I’m going to Berlin to try and find her and my sisters.” Lotte ran a hand, then two hands, through her hair – agonized, stupefied. Barely one inch of her formerly chin-length mop of hair was left. She probably wouldn’t even recognize herself – if she had a mirror to check.

“We need to walk all the way to Wittenberge. From there I heard there’s a train going to Berlin,” Martha said with the authority of someone who’d been on the road for too long.