War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 52

Chapter 26

L

otte lost track of time as the wagon rattled and bumped over the ground. She clenched her teeth, digging her nails into her palms to keep from struggling as she was dumped into the pit.

She heard the undertakers say a quick prayer over the dead bodies of their fellow prisoners, and the sound of the wagon being wheeled back inside the camp. Lotte lay there, a dead body draped across her legs, another splayed on her back. Somehow, she’d managed to turn as the wagon was dumped and had landed on her stomach, protecting her face and airway. The air was fetid, the smell causing her to gag, but her survival depended upon pretending to be dead.

She feared she would go mad as the hours crawled by, but she remained perfectly still until she could safely crawl out of the immense grave. After eleven o’clock, when all the prisoners had returned from their forced labor, the guards no longer patrolled the outside of the camp. She knew that was why Anna had arranged for her to flee the burial pit at midnight. Like a ghost, rising from the dead at the witching hour.

Lotte gave a dry laugh and counted the chimes of the church bell. One short one for every quarter of the hour. One longer one for every hour. One, two, three…nine, ten. Two more hours and she would make her move.

She lay among the dead, feeling as if she belonged, so weak and sick was she. But the hope of seeing Ursula and Mutter again instilled an inner strength she didn’t know she still possessed. Lotte closed her eyes, allowing the vision of her mother and sisters to fill her mind. This would keep her awake because if she fell asleep, she’d miss the stroke of midnight – and her second chance at life.

Eleven.

Twelve.

It was time.

Lotte gathered her last ounce of strength and crawled, pushed, pulled, and climbed. Once she was on top of the pile of corpses, she faced a high earthen wall. She traveled in time back to Aunt Lydia’s farm and how she’d raced her cousins Jörg and Helmut up the trees.

I can do this. I can. I must.

She sent up a prayer of forgiveness for stepping on the dead bodies nearest the wall and then used their corpses to give herself a boost up, digging her toes into the soft earth, kicking and clawing her way out of the pit.

Her nails were bleeding by the time she made it out, and she collapsed on the snow-covered ground, but only for a second.

Anna had told her, “You have fifteen minutes, twenty at most. Ursula will arrive at a quarter past midnight, but she can’t wait for long.”

Lotte half walked, half crawled toward the metal fence surrounding the mass grave. Since nobody expected the dead to escape, it wasn’t topped with barbed wire like the prison wall. It was almost too easy to traverse the fence, falling to the other side.

Her breath coming in spurts, she sensed her strength beginning to fail her. Without proper muscles to do the heavy work, every exercise became an almost insurmountable task.

At least I don’t weigh much anymore.

When her pulse finally slowed down enough to make another move, she heard the damned church bell chime one time. A quarter past midnight.

“Hide in the copse of trees just ahead,” Anna had explained.

It wasn’t far, maybe a few hundred yards, but putting one foot in front of the other was one of the most challenging things she’d ever done. Every three or four steps, she had to catch her breath, but she never stopped, never faltered.

I must reach the copse. I will not give up. I will…

Lotte reached the trees and fell to the ground when a woman on a bicycle stopped in front of her.

“Here, take this and get on.” Ursula handed her a woolen cape and pointed at the luggage rack on the back.

Lotte slipped the warm cape over her naked body and collapsed on the luggage rack, holding tight onto Ursula’s hips as her sister quickly pedaled away. The ride passed in a blur, complete exhaustion taking over. Finally, Ursula stopped on the outskirts of town, and Lotte felt herself being carried to a small house where an older woman answered the door.

She was taken into the basement, laid on a small cot with a mattress, bed sheets, and a pillow –

what a wonderful soft

pillow

– and covered with a warm blanket. Ursula returned and held a cup of chicken broth to her lips, making her swallow the hot liquid in tiny sips. Warmth seeped into her bones, and Lotte closed her eyes, letting sleep claim her battered body. The last sound she heard was the crackle of the fire in the stove.

I’m in a safe place

.

The next morning,

Lotte woke with a start, glaring at the unfamiliar room. She scratched her itching scalp.

Ursula peeked through the doorway. “Hey, sleepyhead. You’re awake.”

“Where are we?” Lotte pushed herself to a sitting position.

“At a friend’s house. Are you hungry?”

Lotte nodded and then burst into tears. “I am. I want…can I wash up someplace? It’s been so long.”

“Of course, you can. Come on, I’ll help you.” Ursula helped her off the cot and led her to the bathroom, equipped with a tall tub and a sink with running water. Ursula filled the tub, laid a bar of soap on the edge, and then helped Lotte take her nightgown off.

Lotte glanced at the soft, white material. She didn’t remember having put it on. All she remembered was the woolen cape Ursula had handed her before she mounted the bicycle. It didn’t matter. Her modesty had long since fled, and she allowed Ursula to help her sink into the hot water.

“You have no idea how good this feels,” Lotte murmured as she leaned back against the tub and then closed her eyes as the hot water began to work wonders on her sore body.

“No, I probably don’t. And I don’t want to trade places with you for one second.” Ursula chuckled, but the sound was full of sympathy. “Lean up, and I’ll wash your hair for you. Remember I used to do this when you were in kindergarten?”

“It’s all falling out.” Lotte glanced at a tuft of short hair swimming on the surface.

“Don’t worry. It will grow back. You just need to eat the right food and get enough rest. It will come back, more beautiful than before.”

“It’s turning gray, too,” Lotte murmured, wondering how many other seventeen-year olds had gray hair.

Again, Ursula chuckled. “No, Lotte. Not turning gray, just dirty and full of ash from the crematorium. It will wash out, you’ll see.”

Ursula gently washed her head, using a special soap designed to kill lice, and then gave her the privacy to wash her body unobserved for the first time in almost four months. After a few minutes, Ursula returned, bringing some of her own clothes with her. She helped Lotte from the tub and handed her a clean towel with which to dry herself. Lotte made quick work of that task and then stepped into the underwear Ursula handed her.

She’d not worn any since arriving at the camp, and recovering that little bit of privacy was overwhelming. Her tears threatened to flow again. Since when had she become such a crybaby? Lotte pulled herself together and allowed her sister to help her get dressed. Despite her being a good three inches taller than Ursula, her sister’s dress bagged on her.

“Look at the scarecrow I am. I’ve lost so much weight,” Lotte mumbled as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Ursula stood beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll gain it back. You’re alive and free, that’s what matters.”

Lotte’s sigh was interrupted by a growl coming from her stomach. “You mentioned food?”

Ursula laughed. “Yes, but I don’t want you to eat too much to start with. You’ll get sick if you do.”

The older woman had already set the table for Lotte. The hearty smell of chicken broth hung in the air and made Lotte’s mouth water.

“Did I die last night and go to heaven?” Lotte licked her lips and reverently dunked the spoon into the broth with generous drops of grease swimming on top. “Hmmmmm…this is delicious.”

She forced herself not to pick up the bowl and consume it in one swallow. By the time she emptied her bowl and carefully chewed the pieces of potato and chicken inside, her stomach was so full it almost hurt. Lotte eyed the slice of bread and butter and sniffed to take in the aroma of freshly baked bread.

Fresh bread

.

Real butter.

Just like at Aunt Lydia’s

.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she touched the bread to feel the soft and flexible texture, held it to her nose to smell the distinctive aroma, and finally took a tiny bite, savoring the salty butter melting on her tongue. Then she chewed the soft fluffy bread several times until the yeasty, slightly bitter flavor turned sweet.

She leaned back and looked at her sister. “I’m full.”

“You can finish the rest later. There’s plenty where that came from.”

Lotte reached for Ursula’s hand. “Thanks for everything.”

“That’s what sisters are there for, right?” Ursula gazed at her with love in her eyes.

Lotte was filled with questions, and now that her belly was full, she had the strength to ask them. “How did you even find me?”

“Aunt Lydia called Mutter to let us know you had disappeared. It was quite a shock.” Ursula pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Lotte was the only sibling who’d inherited their grandmother’s red mane of curls. Well, it had been curls. Now it looked more like grayish-red plucked plumage.

There was a certain nostalgia in Ursula’s glance as she remembered the phone call from her aunt. Lotte sensed that there was something more, something she hadn’t told, but for once she let it go. If Ursula wanted her to know, she’d tell her in due time.

“Aunt Lydia saw how you were pushed into the police car–”

“So it was her standing behind the window. Is she all right?” Lotte asked with bated breath.

“Yes.” Ursula patted Lotte’s arm. “Two weeks after you were arrested, she delivered the baby. It’s a girl. Rosa.”

Lotte smiled.

“Herr Keller apparently tried to take her farm away, but since Uncle Peter and she are good friends with the leader of the farmer’s association, he didn’t succeed. But Aunt Lydia couldn’t prevent him from arresting you that night. She had to think of her children.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry for causing her so much trouble.”

“The next day, she went down to the police station to plead with Herr Keller to set you free, but you weren’t there anymore. He never told us what happened, and we feared the worst.”

Uwe.

At the memory of him, tears shot into Lotte’s eyes.

“Several weeks later, we found out that you’d been sent to Ravensbrück.” Ursula sighed. “Mutter didn’t take it well. She had a breakdown.”

“Good grief. How is she now?” Lotte couldn’t imagine her mother being weak. Since she was a child, her mother had always been a force to reckon with, keeping four children – and a husband – under control with little more than a stern glance and a few well-chosen words.

Many times, Lotte had thought Mutter was way too strict, forbidding everything that was fun, warning her time and again not to speak imprudently and not to act rashly.

I should have followed her advice

.

“She doesn’t know yet. Anna and I thought it best to tell her only after we rescued you, to avoid yet another disappointment. We have tried everything to get you transferred to a normal prison, but to no avail. With every failure, Mutter retreated more into herself.”

Lotte felt the heavy burden of guilt for causing so much suffering to her mother.

“Then we got news about Vater and Richard. After not talking to anyone for days, Mutter stopped leaving the house, except for going to the allotments.”

“Are they…?” Lotte didn’t dare say the word.

“Vater is a prisoner of war in Russia, and as far as we’ve been told, he is alive. But Richard is missing in action. The last time he was seen was somewhere near Minsk.”

Lotte pressed her hands to her stomach, grief threatening to bring its contents up. “Minsk? Where is that?”

“I had to look it up in my atlas. It’s in Belarus, about six hundred miles east of Berlin.” Ursula smiled sadly, patting her sister’s hand. “Mutter blames herself for your fate because she sent you away.”

Lotte’s eyes widened. Her mother believed that?