“I think you do,” he says.
“Both. A person can be both kind and diligent at the same time. Per my training, thus far, they are one and the same.”
“Good answer,” he says with a snicker. I’m not sure I’m reading his reactions properly.
“Vater, please. Let’s discuss this later, perhaps?”
Herr Berger’s scrutinizing stare pierces through me, making it known I can’t slink away from the conversation that’s become the center of attention at the table. Of course, he doesn’t scare me like he does Otto. “A boy should always have a certain level of fear in his father, or he will never know the meaning of respect.” Otto’s repeated mantras about his father still make no sense to me, even after all the time I’ve known them both. I’m quite sure the Bible states that one shall, “Honor thy father and thy mother.” Period. there’s no mention of fearing the people who put us on this earth.
“It’s all right to allow your wife to speak, son,” Herr Berger says.
I peer at Otto from the corner of my eye, watching his cheek move against his grinding jaw—a common reaction he has to his father’s behavior.
“Emilie, let me ask you this…if a patient came to you with a case of hypothermia, how would you assess and treat them quickly and effectively?”
“Well,” I begin. “Hypothermia occurs when the body temperature falls several degrees below our core body temperature. When this occurs, the heart, nervous system, and organs are unable to function properly. If hypothermia isn’t treated immediately, heart failure or respiratory distress are possible—both could lead to death. However, there are methods of treatment.”
“How would you determine the signs of hypothermia?” Herr Berger continues.
“Symptoms can include a weak pulse, shallow breaths, fatigue, and unconsciousness. Most often, hypothermia sets in so quickly that the person in trouble isn’t aware of their symptoms and won’t always speak up about them so it’s purely based off an initial observation, measuring vitals, and interaction.”
“Where did you learn all of this?” Otto asks, quietly in my ear.
“My nursing books. I’ve read them all several times from cover to cover. Just because I’ve had to stop my classes doesn’t mean I’ve lost interest in what I plan to do someday.”
Chirping sounds erupt from around the table—feminine choking sounds. I’ll take them as quiet sounds of encouragement.
“Emilie, we are struggling to keep up with the intake at the hospital and are in desperate need of help. What would you say to joining Otto and the others, assisting and gaining experience as well?”
“What kind of help?” I ask, wondering why I’m even asking after fearing the fact that Otto has been working within the confines of a camp all day.
“I don’t think that’s a wise idea,” Otto says, his eyes bulging through a grave stare at his father.
“Well, why not? What would I be doing there?” I’m curious why Otto is closed off to the idea before I’ve had a chance to respond properly.
“Each day is different, really. There’s nursing assistance needed in many areas, obtaining data on patient vitals, and notating intake and release forms. You would be in a safe environment, of course.”
“Vater, I’d like to speak to you in private,” Otto says, raising his voice.
“That’s not considerate. Emilie has a right to her own decisions, has she not?”
“Of course, but this isn’t a common?—”
“Son, your uncle is the one reporting back to the Luftwaffe’s commander in chief and he’s expecting answers from us as to why we have not submitted certain reports or patient data. We are behind and we need extra assistance.”
“I wouldn’t mind finding out more about how I can assist, dear,” I tell Otto, finishing my sentence with a polite smile.I’m still not sure what their work on hypothermia has to do with curing cancer, and me assisting with ill political prisoners, but I’d at least like to know more before declining the offer.
“I think it’s a fine idea,” Karl says.
“Agreed,” Hermann follows.
“We’re all in this together,” Wilhelm says.
Helga takes in a harsh breath and slings her head to the side to look at her husband. “We’re all in this together? Since when?”
“Helga,” he replies, shock lacing every syllable of her name.
Helga turns quickly to me, “I apologize, Emilie, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling well tonight. I’ll see myself out.”
