War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 355

Chapter 22

S

ummer slipped away much too quickly, and winter arrived. The weather turned cold and before Johann knew it, the first snow fell. Life in Vorkuta was brutal and inhumane, but he’d gotten used to it. It was what it was. There was no use in moping around over things he couldn’t change.

The men who incessantly crabbed usually got punished or lost their will to survive. One could literally watch the flame of life snuff itself out in a man. From the moment the soul gave up, the body lasted a week at most.

Johann often thought about Helmut, hoping his friend had made it home safely. Helmut had been his anchor, his beacon in a thunderous sea. He smiled at the memory. Despite having been conscripted by force, Helmut had rarely complained. He’d held such an unshakable faith in his God that even the bleakest days in their captivity couldn’t break his spirit.

Himself, he wasn’t very religious. In his opinion the profession of a solider and being a Christian didn’t mesh well. A soldier poised to kill, whereas a Christian should not.

But he agreed with Helmut on one point: a man needed a purpose to withstand the abhorrent conditions. Those who didn’t find meaning in their suffering soon succumbed to illnesses or exhaustion.

During his time before the sentence his reason had been Lotte. The prospect of returning to her had kept him alive, had made him hang on for just another day and another day… but after?

He’d been on the verge of suicide, only prevented by the meticulous body search of the Soviet guards. For a long time it had felt like a curse, but he now saw it had been a blessing in disguise. He was still alive.

After many months in Vorkuta he’d finally found his reason to survive: he would return to Germany and be witness to the injustices committed by the Soviets. He’d tell the world what happened here in the wastelands of the Arctic zone, Siberia, the Eurasian steppe, everywhere in the vast country that was the Soviet Union.

Then, the world would act and free the trapped people from the yoke, or at least remember the dead. With his newfound mission, Johann hung on to life for just another day. One day at a time.

Approximately a week before Christmas, the commandant promised the German prisoners an extra day off. The communist official glanced down at the thousands of bedraggled prisoners standing in the courtyard and said, “In order to earn your day off on Christmas, you first have to make up for the lost time.”

The

plenni

groaned almost inaudibly. Of course there was a catch, there always was.

“If you overachieve your target, everyone will receive millet

kasha

and sugar broth on Christmas day.”

Kurt hissed, “Sugar broth? Yummy…”

Johann’s mouth watered at the image of the sugary soup running down his throat. Sweet was a taste absent from their diet and he craved sugar like a Pervitin addict craved his next methamphetamine pill.

So they toiled, two extra hours each day for one week. They bartered and everyone pitched in with a little something to celebrate Christmas. One man organized a candle, others saved up flour rations to make a cake, again others made small presents to give.

Johann giddily awaited the festivities, more enthused even than he’d been as a child. On Christmas Day at 5 a.m. the roll call sirens went off, rousing everyone from slumber. He turned around, closing his eyes in the knowledge that they’d been granted a day off today. But shortly after, he was crudely shaken by a guard, “Get up, lazybones!”

Jerking up, his eyes opened wide, “

Tovarish

, it’s our

vikhodnoy

today. We worked extra hours to get the day off.”

“The commandant changed his mind. Get up and go to work.”

Kurt said, “See, I told you they wouldn’t keep their promise. Damn Ivan.”

“I’m not going,” Alfred said. “I worked my quota ahead of time, so I’m going to stay in bed.

“No, you won’t. Get up to work,” the guard shouted.

Alfred in his matchless defiance for authority slid out of the bed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “No.”

Johann took a step toward his friend. “Alfred, please.”

“You! Get out of my way,” the guard warned Johann and then knocked his truncheon against Alfred’s shoulder. Johann had barely enough time to jump aside before Alfred unleashed his ire and attacked the guard, ramming his head into the guard’s lower stomach.

The other prisoners in the barracks followed the spectacle with gaping jaws, but nobody dared intervene. Of course such disrespect for the rules couldn’t last long and within a minute several more guards stormed the barracks to haul Alfred away.

The entire day at work Johann feared he’d never see his friend again. In the evening when they returned to the camp, one of the prisoners told him, “Alfred’s been sent to the penal block.”

Johann swallowed. At least his friend wasn’t dead – yet. The penal block was where they held the murderers. Vile and vicious men with whom nobody wanted to come into contact. A shiver ran down Johann’s spine and for the rest of the week worry for his friend consumed him.

But one day, Alfred showed up at the culture barracks with a grin on his face. “Hey, I’m back.”

“Goddamn you, I was worried sick,” Johann said.

“I’m fine. It was a nice change of routine. In fact, I should start a brawl more often.”

“You’re certifiably insane. What did they do to you?”

“Who?” Alfred beamed like a light bulb.

“The murderers.”

“Oh, them…” Alfred made a dismissive gesture. “They’re good blokes.”

Johann’s eyes popped out. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

“No, not at all. At first, they didn’t exactly welcome me to their block, but that changed after I knocked out the three baddest guys.” Alfred chuckled. “After that I offered to teach them how to box and we became fast friends.”

“Are the guards aware of this?” Johann barked a short laugh.

“Sure are, that’s why they brought me back. Seems I’m a poor example.” Alfred laughed. “Imagine that, me corrupting hardened criminals and murderers.”

“You are… simply… unique.” Johann shook his head. “But I’m glad you’re back, I missed you.”

“Whoa… don’t get all sentimental on me! I wasn’t even away for a week. Will you start crying like a baby when they release you and not me?” Alfred presented a tough exterior, but Johann could see that he was touched.

“We’ll be released together. What do you say?”

“Nah, after that stunt, they’re not gonna release me ever. I’m sure they just piled another five years atop my sentence.”

“Why? Why do you keep getting into trouble? I mean, don’t you want to go home?”

Alfred made a sad face. “There’s no one to return to.”

“You can’t give up hope—”

“I don’t. Haven’t you yourself pestered me with the wisdom that a man needs a mission to survive this hell?”

“I have… but how does getting into trouble help?”

“Well.” Albert’s face took on a determined expression. “Since I won’t leave this shithole alive, I’ve made it my mission to cause as much grief for the guards as I can. They can punish me all they want. I’ll enjoy every little fight and the satisfaction it gives me to break their stupid rules. Nobody messes with Alfred Weller!”

“It’s a weird mission, but if it makes you happy, my friend, I accept your decision. To each his own.”

“Know what? It may sound strange but the happiest moments in my life are when I’m involved in a brawl. It’s almost as if I’m a free man again, standing in the boxing ring, ready to take on my opponent.”

A few days later, one of the guards sought out Alfred, whispering in hushed tones for quite a time.

“What did he want?” Johann asked.

“Made me an offer.”

“An offer for what?” Johann eyed his friend suspiciously.

“More food, light work, and women.”

A gasp erupted from Johann’s throat. “Women?” The last woman he’d seen was the elderly housemaid in the commandant’s home a year ago. He knew they had a camp for women prisoners around here somewhere but had never actually seen one of them.

“Yep.”

“What do you have to do?”

“What I do best.”

Johann wanted to punch his friend but given that Alfred could crush him with one hand that wasn’t a particularly bright idea. “Will you tell me the whole story, or do I have to worm it out of you?”

Alfred chuckled. “I honestly have no idea how you and I became friends. You can be so naïve. They want me to entertain them with cage fights.”

“Cage fights?”

“Yes. And before you start lathering me with misguided moral objections, the winner gets to live.”

“Alfred! You can’t be serious about this! You can’t agree to this!”

“Of course I am serious. I already accepted.”

“But what if you die?” Johann couldn’t fathom Alfred’s reckless behavior. Apart from the objectionable morals of setting out to kill another man, why would he take such a huge risk?

“Seriously? What difference does it make whether I go down in a good fight or dragging coal to the trains?” Alfred cocked his head. “Tell me the truth. Have you never thought about suicide?”

Johann swallowed hard. “I have. But…”

“This is my chance to spend my life doing what I love most, instead of toiling all day for those wretched bastards. However long I have left on this earth, I’ll enjoy it to the fullest. And I won’t go to bed hungry.”

“I hope you won’t regret this decision.”

“I won’t. “

Alfred was moved immediately

to another barracks for the privileged prisoners. About a week later in the short time span between dinner and bedtime, the first cage fight was announced.

All the prisoners were allowed to attend. Johann went together with Igor, biting his lips nervously. He didn’t want to see his friend die, but he also didn’t want to miss a chance to watch him fight.

A whistle sounded and the fight began.

Alfred moved about like the pro he was and his opponent, a burly newcomer, didn’t last long. Johann closed his eyes to the bloody finish, but cheered along with everyone else when the winner was announced.

“Alfred! Alfred!” the crowd chanted as the next opponent was led into the makeshift ring.

“I can’t watch this. This is barbaric,” Johann told Igor and turned to leave.

“You can’t leave, not now. Not when we’re having fun for the first time in months,” Kurt interjected.

“You call this fun?” Johann said, aghast.

“Come on. Those guys deserve it. Haven’t you listened to the introductions? The last one skinned three young women alive. You can’t really feel sympathy for him, can you?”

Johann shrugged. All of this was so wrong. Incredibly wrong. He thought the murdering, disguised as heroic deeds, had ended with the war. Apparently not. Instead, they’d all been reduced to beasts in the brutal environment of the Gulag Vorkuta.

Later, Johann approached Alfred. “Congratulations.”

Alfred grinned. “I know you don’t approve of my choice, so it means a lot that you came.”

“You’re still my friend. And maybe I can convince you to stop.” In normal times, Johann wouldn’t have associated with a man like Alfred, but what was normal in his life?

“I won’t stop. This is my fate.”

“Whatever happened to your mission to bring grief to the guards?”

“Well, I found a better mission: to bring much needed entertainment to my fellow prisoners and have fun doing it.” Alfred stared at Johann for a long time. “And you, my friend, you need to become more like me. You’re a good man, but this won’t help you here. You need to dump your conscience into the snow and become brutal and unscrupulous. In hell only the bad guys prosper.”

Johann shivered. His integrity and moral values were the only things the Soviets hadn’t stolen from him. He wouldn’t give them up, ever. “That’s not my way of doing things.”

“When you change your mind, let me know. I might teach you some moves,” Alfred chuckled and turned away.