“Lord, help me escape.” Leaving his library book behind and unfinished, he tossed his shaving kit into his packed duffel and raced downstairs. If he beat the other OT men to the lobby, he could slip away.
Gerrit threw open the stairway door on the ground floor.
Half a dozen officers stood in the lobby, including Willy Riedel, who waved Gerrit over.
A gaping pit formed in Gerrit’s belly, but he worked up a pleasant expression and joined the men. Schmeling must have summoned the officers before the noncommissioned men like Gerrit.
As the officers talked in low tones about the dangers the Allies posed to ships and the necessity of continuing their work in France, Gerrit’s gaze drifted to the front door. A lorry parked outside with an armed guard.
How could Gerrit sneak past so many eyes, so many pistols? All the men were armed.
“Come along.” An officer ushered the group—now a dozen men—outside.
Trapped in the group, Gerrit had no choice but to climb into the back of the lorry, to sit there, paralyzed, as the lorry drove through St. Helier.
Two years earlier, he hadn’t wanted to come to Jersey. Now he didn’t want to leave.
How could he leave? He couldn’t. He couldn’t keep up the charade of being loyal to the German cause. He couldn’t build and fight for everything he hated while his true comrades fought for everything he loved.
That pit in his belly seethed. He couldn’t leave Ivy. He hadn’t said goodbye, couldn’t send her a message to tell her he was departing.
Pressure built around his throat. Did she know how much he loved her? Did she know he’d do everything in his power to return to her? If he survived.
The lorry halted at the harbor entrance to let another lorry pass, and Gerrit gripped the metal edge of the bed. He could jump out. Run.
If he did so, he’d be shot.
The lorry rumbled into the dock area and stopped at the foot of Albert Pier, where half a dozen ships docked. Gerrit climbed out. He had one last chance, not to escape, but to let Ivy know he was leaving. If he could find Charlie, even catch his eye, Charlie would understand. Charlie would tell her.
A guard motioned for the OT men to wait, and more guards led two dozen civilians onto the pier.
Gerrit’s chest caved in—ordinary men and women of all ages. Prisoners convicted of crimes such as spreading English news or harboring escaped workers or stealing food from the Germans, off to serve sentences in horrific prisons or concentration camps.
Ice tingled in the cavern in Gerrit’s chest. Rumors of atrocitiesin those concentration camps had spread around the island, more so in the last two days.
The source of those rumors now trudged down the pier, dozens of wraiths in rags, with sunken eyes and protruding cheekbones, herded by black-clad guards.
Two days earlier, these slave workers had arrived on their way to France from Alderney, one of the Channel Islands. From all accounts, conditions for the forced laborers in Alderney made conditions in Jersey seem mild. And this group of Jews and political prisoners had been supervised by the notorious German SS.
An officer to Gerrit’s right grunted. “I’m glad we’re sending these workers to the continent. We need as many as we can get.”
Gerrit clamped his tongue between his molars so he wouldn’t speak. They’d have far more workers if they didn’t work the ones they had to death.
The swastika armband burned on Gerrit’s arm. If only he could rip it off, shred it. By wearing it, wasn’t he defending the very nation that perpetrated such crimes, that murdered good men like Demyan Marchenko and countless others? Wouldn’t it be better to take a bullet?
Gerrit squeezed his eyes shut and breathed hard, prayed hard. What would that accomplish? Would it stop the atrocities? Would it bring an Allied victory? Would it help the people he loved?
In a way, it would be a purely selfish—if principled—act.
“Come along, van der Zee.” Riedel nudged him.
Gerrit pried his eyes open, shoved his feet down the pier.
Charlie—he had to find Charlie. But he didn’t see theOrmer, didn’t see his friend.
The OT men filed on board a cargo ship and crammed onto the deck. Gerrit and Riedel found a spot at the rails.
“I don’t want to leave.” Riedel cast a rueful gaze over the town. “But we’re in danger of getting trapped here.”
