War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 362

Chapter 29

J

ohann boarded a bus that would bring him to the

Entlassungslager Friedland.

Now that he truly and irrevocably was out of danger, his limbs began to shake.

The fifty-mile trip from the border to the camp was lined with tens of thousands waving of and smiling people. Every time the bus passed through a village, it had to slow down, because people jumped the vehicle to throw flowers through the windows and sneak a peek at the returned prisoners. Women held onto the windowpanes, intent on touching the hand of one of the men inside.

Johann’s eyes widened more with every minute. What happened here had been beyond his wildest imaginings. Apparently half of the Germans were up on their feet to celebrate – him. Suddenly he didn’t feel like the condemned prisoner he’d been so long, but like a hero, showered with flowers, gifts, admiration and honors.

The row of buses approached the camp with the huge banner saying, “Welcome Home!” Honking the horn, the bus driver cleaved a way through the massive crowd, until he finally came to a halt.

A bell began tolling when Johann disembarked from the bus, grinning from ear to ear. When the bell finished, a fire brigade band played, “

Nun danket alle Gott,

” Now thank we all our God.

The crowd went silent and listened to the music, some singing along. Johann bowed his head, biting his lips to will away the overwhelming emotions.

They had defeated death, illness, exhaustion, cold, hunger, thirst, homesickness, despair, and they had prevailed. Nobody could accuse them of being weak or whiny. In captivity they hadn’t shown emotions or cried – certainly not in public.

But what happened now in the Friedland camp overwhelmed them all. It flustered even the toughest man. Johann furtively wiped his damp eyes. Glancing left and right he saw his comrades equally touched.

When the music stopped, the first couples found each other. Women wrapped their soft arms around the necks of long-lost men, and nobody could contain their tears any longer.

Women, children, men, everyone cried. Johann, too. The tears rolled down his cheeks unchecked as he witnessed the moving scenes going on around him. He walked through the crowd, looking for Lotte. He had no idea whether she’d come, whether she even knew he’d returned. Everything had happened so fast, there had been no time to write a letter.

Happy couples lay in each other’s arms, kissing like there was no tomorrow. Desperate women held up signs in the air with the picture of a missing son, husband, or father and his name, asking if anyone knew about his fate. Johann turned away. Those who were still missing would never return, for they had died during the first years of hunger through 1949. One million and a half German soldiers would never make it home. The Russians had failed to register so many who’d died in the transit camps, on the marches or in the cattle trains. But who was he to shatter the hope of an old woman who still believed in a miracle?

Breathing deeply, he summoned his inner strength to continue looking for Lotte. Then he saw her. Her fiery red hair glowed in the sun. She turned her head, scanning the crowd of arrivals, and their eyes locked.

He elbowed his way through the masses, rushing toward her as fast as his feet would carry him. And finally she was in his arms, as soft and warm as he remembered her. They frantically kissed each other, making up for ten lost years and when he let go of her mouth, he saw the tears rolling down her cheeks, smearing her make-up.

“Johann.” Her voice broke and once again she caught his lips in a passionate kiss.

“Lotte.”

Much later, they walked across the courtyard of the camp, getting his release papers, and she said, “I knew you would come home. I’ve been here every single day since the first transport arrived.”

“I still can’t believe it,” he said. “So many people.”

She laughed her wonderful, glittering laugh and her eyes brightened. “You have no idea. We haven’t forgotten you. For the past five years there were demonstrations, political pressure, diplomatic talks, anything you can think of, to bring all of you home.”

He smiled. “I imagine you were in the middle of all of this.”

“Not all, but some of it.” Her happy smile warmed his heart. “I couldn’t tell you in my letters. Didn’t want to risk the censors knowing and giving you a hard time.”

He didn’t want to delve into bad memories, so he held her at arm’s length and studied her appearance. She had matured; the effusiveness had left and deliberateness shaped her expression. But she was still the same person, just ten years older. “You are even more beautiful than I remember.”

“I love you so much. And now we go home.”

When he settled on the passenger seat in her white VW Beetle and watched her drive on the Autobahn, he thought that so much had happened in Germany while he was away. And then he laughed. “It’s over. Finally.”