She shook her head. ‘They believe me. They think you are my half-brother. Gerhard is okay.’
‘You’ve only just met him! This could be a trap, Elsa.’
‘I believe them. They are heading west to help stem the attack. We can ride a few miles and then I will make an excuse and we can get out.’
The soldier who had discovered them appeared at the door of the kitchen. Had the soldier heard him, a mute German, speaking in English?
Sam held his breath as the soldier stared at them, his gun now held stiffly in his hands across his chest. Time appeared to move slowly, accentuating every breath, every drip of a distant leaking tap, every voice outside. He suddenly smiled, breaking the tension, and told them to hurry. Sam threw her an angry look, reached for his bag, slung it over his shoulder and led the way outside.
Whatever their fate was, he was as much part of this decision to go with them as she was now. Yet, as he climbed into the back of the truck, she knew he resented her for not resisting. She could feel it as it ran from his fingers and into hers through the strength of his grip as he helped her up.
Chapter Fifteen
Elsa could feel Sam’s accusing gaze on her, drilling into her. Had she been wrong to accept the lift? As if to worsen her feelings of betraying him, Klara had chosen his lap to sit upon in the confines of the canvas-topped truck. Sam wanted to be a hundred miles away, not sitting shoulder to shoulder with enemy soldiers, and Klara had sensed that and understood it. This was all Elsa’s fault. She stared at her fidgeting hands pushed into the valley of her lap. Thankfully the soldiers didn’t pick up on the tension. They were heading for the front line and had other things on their mind.
She heard Sam inhale deeply and dared to look up. She was relieved to see he was no longer looking at her. She tried to convince herself that she had done the right thing. Gerhard had been friendly and reassuring in his invitation for them to join him. He did not suspect Sam at all. The thought of being in Bremen within hours — a day or two at the most — and seeing her mother and sister again had been enticing. Klara was exhausted and so was she. No more scavenging for food. A warm bed to sleep in. She would no longer be a burden for Sam. In the haze of Gerhard’s offer, and the pressure to accept, it had been too hard to resist.
But, sitting in the cramped truck, she almost wished she had had more courage to turn the offer down. Gerhard, her temporary self-imposed guardian, had chosen to climb into the cab with the driver. Now she saw and felt the danger she had been blind to before. Without Gerhard’s protection, they were on their own with a group of bitter, weary soldiers who possibly viewed Sam as a shirker and Klara’s feelings as inconsequential. She remembered the earlier comment about sex and self-consciously pulled the hem of her dress over her knees.
The change was not just in her mind. The atmosphere was different back here — intense, unpredictable. There was no easy way to escape.Thesesoldiers had not invited them. They were bitter and tired of the war; they knew their leaders were losing control; they were starved of food, weapons, clothing. It was hard to feel pride in the midst of a growing disaster. And from their hard glances, Elsa felt there were other things worming their way into their minds. They didn’t want to be in the company of civilians, two of whom had never fought on the front line and would never fully understand or appreciate what they were heading towards. To make matters worse, Sam was of fighting age and looked healthy enough to fight, yet he was free of the responsibility. She could see the questions running through their heads as they watched Sam. Could he really not hear and talk, or was he a traitor? Was it all a pretence to avoid fighting? They were calling up young boys... even children now.
She dared a glance at Sam. He’d closed his eyes and was resting his head back on the truck’s frame, his body swaying and jolting with the truck’s every movement. He held Klara on his lap with one arm; she snuggled into his chest with a frown far too serious for her little face. Sam’s relaxed appearance was all an act, she was sure. By pretending to rest he was feigning trust in his fellow travellers in the hope his passivity would avoid igniting any simmering resentment. But she knew, underneath it all, he would be ready to stand and fight in an instant if the need arose. She prayed silently it would not.
The splutter and roar of the engine ate up the miles, but ultimately the faint odour of war-weary bodies mixed with diesel fumes and her own self-doubt only made her feel nauseous.
Another bottle of schnapps was brought out and, like its predecessor, began a circular journey from hand to hand around the men. Each soldier drank deeply before wiping his mouth on his sleeve and handing it on. Unlike their leader, they didnot offer some to her, passing the bottle in front of her as if she did not exist. She wondered what Hitler would make of his army now. The Führer hated alcohol, and drinking on duty was punishable by death.
One soldier nursed a dirty, bloodied bandage on his arm. When he noticed her watching him he covered it with his sleeve as if by doing so it no longer existed. The men spoke very little during the journey, but occasionally they would talk, snippets added to previous conversations, the ending or beginning of others. They all knew each other too well to have to start afresh. However, the lack of emotion was striking: they didn’t speak of their loved ones. Perhaps talk of family and home were off limits when they were heading towards battle. They needed their heads to be free from feelings of the heart, Elsa thought as she watched them drink some more. That was heartbreaking.
Only the young soldier sitting next to her remained silent. A sheen of sweat glistened on his grimy face, yet his complexion was ashen and his heavy-lidded eyes were dull. Despite his lack of energy, his gaze never left Sam’s face, boring into his features as if he was a mirage that should not be believed. So intense was his study that Elsa felt the heat of his concentration emanate from his body and pass from his shoulder to hers. She would have liked to distance herself from his fevered body but there was no room to escape it.
Schnapps was offered around again and the soldier next to her refused a second time with a slight shake of his head. Water was offered in its place, and although his lips were cracked, he silently refused. He was not offered a drink again. Throughout these exchanges, his fixation on Sam continued as if by looking at him, he would avoid collapsing in a heat of fever.
Sam straightened in his seat. The passing landscape had begun to change from open countryside to scattered buildingsand increasing numbers of military vehicles. Sam’s questioning gaze prompted her to find her voice.
‘What is happening?’ she asked.
One of the soldiers answered as he watched the changing scene outside the back of the truck. ‘Everyone has the same idea as us.’ He looked over his shoulder at Sam. ‘I wish I was him. At least he is with family. I have a feeling I won’t see mine again.’
Guilt rose up in Elsa’s chest like a wave. Otto would have sat in a truck just like this. He would have wanted to lay down his weapon and go home like this soldier. These men were no different to her own blood and she was betraying them. She was betraying them all. She looked out at the line of military vehicles that had begun to follow them. These men were strong, defiant. They were ready to fight for their country. All they needed was someone to lead them.
If they knew the truth abouther— that she had lain in the arms of an enemy only a few hours ago — she would not be spared. Nausea churned in her stomach. She felt like an imposter. She felt ashamed.
She felt like atraitor.
The truck suddenly careered off the road, surprising the passengers in the back. Now they could hear the distinctive ominous drone of American bombers approaching from the west. Before a word of warning could be called, vehicles began to explode all around, the rain of bombs tossing vehicles, bodies and crumpled metal high into the sky. Sam covered Klara’s body with his own to protect her. They landed indiscriminately, peppering the ground with explosions of death.
The bombers flew away, leaving behind a graveyard of upturned trucks, smoking debris and dying men. Elsa wondered if the soldiers in her truck would stop to tend to the wounded, but the truck returned to the road and continued west, almost as if nothing had happened.
Inside, the atmosphere had changed yet again. The soldiers stared at the receding scene. The impotent, overturned, charred military vehicles now had more in common with the Third Reich’s wrecking yards than the highly disciplined army and rural landscape of Elsa’s childhood. One of the soldiers poured the remaining schnapps out of the rear of the truck, leaving a stream of alcohol to blow away in the wind.
‘One last drink for the dead,’ he stated solemnly before returning to his seat in sombre silence. No one spoke again until they entered a town not far down the road. It appeared to be a rendezvous or passing place and, whether by luck or arrangement, the motley squad now found themselves among a formal military gathering. Whatever their rogue plans had been, they were now back with more senior officers and would have to follow their orders. The empty bottle of schnapps was thrust into Sam’s chest. The unspoken message was clear: get rid or take ownership of it before a senior rank saw it. He understood and slipped the bottle into his pocket as if they were comrades. The truck stopped and Sam and Elsa were ordered out. Elsa was glad to leave the soldier beside her, whose breath smelled stale and body felt damp with sweat. They scrambled through their tightly packed travelling companions and jumped down before they changed their minds.
A soldier wished them good luck in finding their families but it lacked any true warmth. Sam picked up Klara and took Elsa’s arm and quickly navigated them through the military trucks, tanks and jeeps that criss-crossed their path. Some distance away they found relative safety under a tree. Sam looked around and indicated which way they should walk. They did not speak again until they were treading the deep furrows of a ploughed field and in relative seclusion.
‘Did you find out anything about the war?’
Sam’s tone was clipped and tense. She glanced up but his expression told her nothing.
