War Girls Box Set

Chapter 9

Upon their arrival in Lodz, they were welcomed by their company leader Leutnant Scherer, who ordered Obergefreiter Hauser to take them under his wing and teach them the ropes of their new assignment.

“We’ve heard many things about you two,” Hauser said, sizing them up with a serious expression on his face. A short military haircut framed his large brown eyes.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Obergefreiter,” Richard said and much to his surprise the other man smiled and extended his hand.

“Well then. I’m Johann.”

He gave them a tour around the barracks, showed them their bunks in the soldiers’ quarters, and explained the nature of their work. “You’ll get a better understanding tomorrow when we march out, but basically our job is to scout the activities of the Polish Home Army. Those b****y partisans have been a true pain in the a*s, blowing up railway tracks, ammunition dumps, and factories.”

Richard had heard about the nuisance the Polish resistance posed, but he’d never given much thought to it. After a few days with his new company, though, things began to fall into place. The halting replenishment at the front, the tardiness and unreliability of the trains, the lack of fuel for the tanks. At least some of this was due to the Home Army blowing up the means of transport and the things to be transported.

Capturing them and stopping their nefarious deeds would give the soldiers at the front a much better chance at survival. He’d long ago stopped thinking that Germany could win this war, but then, what choice did he have but to follow orders? So he’d basically stopped thinking at all. Asking questions wasn’t a trait particularly sought after in a simple soldier.

Day after day they formed groups of ten to search the ruins and scour the nearby forests for enemy movement. The Siberian cold had swept across Poland by December 1943, and every night Richard was grateful to bunk down in the barracks instead of having to camp in a makeshift tent.

The comparatively light work, plus the regular and abundant meals they now enjoyed, improved their health immensely. Both Karl and Richard put on at least twenty pounds. Flesh began to cover the bones on Richard’s gaunt body and his muscles started to develop. He noticed his uniform had become short at the legs and arms, and strained the buttons of his smart coat.

In a permanent base like Lodz, life was different from the always-moving frontline. For one, army postal service delivered mail like clockwork every week. The men gathered in the courtyard, hooting and hollering when the large canvas mail sacks arrived, eagerly waiting to hear if their name would be called and they’d be handed an envelope or a parcel with goodies from home.

Those letters to and from home were a lifeline for them. It didn’t matter if letters were late by months or the censors had blacked out portions of the writing. A letter was a treasured possession. Words written with love on a sheet of paper, which mostly brought joy, sometimes sadness or disturbing news. But none of the soldiers would have missed the handout time for anything.

Richard sighed. Again, his name hadn’t been called.

Johann strolled over with a parcel in hand and nodded at Richard. “Chin up, boy. The mail can take months to arrive here.”

“I know. But still…” Richard turned to walk away.

“Come on. Wanna help me unpack mine?” the older man offered, and Richard’s eyes lit up. Together, they unwrapped the parcel and dug out a forearm-sized piece of hard, cured sausage, cigarettes, and knitted socks. Johann pocketed the letter, obviously not willing to share its contents.

“This from your girl?”

“Wish it was.” Johann’s brown eyes were cast over with sadness as he added, “I’ve been in this war for five years. On my first furlough, she said she couldn’t stand the uncertainty. Didn’t want to wait for someone who might never come back.” Johann brusquely stood and walked away.

Richard empathized with him, but didn’t dare go after the much older, more experienced man. What wisdom did he, an eighteen-year old boy, have to offer? Instead he sought out Karl.

“Hey, Rich, look at this!” Karl waved a sheet of paper at his friend. “Letter from my mother. She’s jazzed. Asking if it’s true that I’m still alive. They told her about our battalion and that I’m missing in action. Of course, she assumed the worst.”

That piece of information didn’t calm Richard’s worries. His mother must have received the same note. What if his letter still hadn’t reached her and she was living with the burden of losing her only son?

“What about you? Anything?” Karl interrupted Richard’s thoughts.

“Nothing. I guess the mail takes a while.” Richard turned to hide the tears welling in his eyes. He missed his mother. She had been the backbone of the family, attending to her husband and keeping the four children in line. And he missed his father, who’d been drafted long before Richard. Last thing they heard was that he was prisoner of war in Russia, and no one knew where.

Mutter had gone from pillar to post trying to find out the whereabouts of her husband, to no avail. Richard knew about international conventions regarding the custody of prisoners of war, but he also knew that a Soviet soldier in German captivity couldn’t hope for compliance with the Geneva Convention. In his heart he knew that the other side wasn’t any better, and that made him worry about his father.

“…is getting married,” Karl said, and Richard turned to stare at him. “Who?”

“My sister. Have you even listened to one word I said?” Karl elbowed his friend.

“Sorry. No.” Nostalgia swept over Richard. “I…will you ask for a furlough?”

“As if that would make sense. Remember they denied us leave, even though we had no assignment?”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, what do you think your sisters are doing?” Karl asked, knowing he could always cheer up his friend by asking about his sisters.

“Ursula got married to her sweetheart almost a year ago. They didn’t even give him a furlough for his own wedding. But I guess he got home later this year, and she would be with child by now. She always wanted to be a mother. And Anna, she’s working as a nurse.” He gave a curt laugh. “I guess that’s a very in-demand job right now. “

Karl nodded. “News from Berlin isn’t good.“

“At least Lotte is with our Aunt Lydia in the country. She’s better off there. Less strafing.”

“There’s only one thing that frightens me more than the Stalinorgel, and that’s the strafing from the air. You can’t outrun an aircraft.”

Stalinorgel,Both fell into silence, each one conjuring up images of their loved ones in better times.

Christmas arrived to brighten everyone’s spirits and the day was celebrated with much enjoyment at the barracks. The girls who worked for the Wehrmacht, the Wehrmachtshelferinnen, and German women living in Lodz had worked many days to prepare a feast for everyone.

WehrmachtshelferinnenRichard barely recognized the barracks: everyone had scrubbed, cleaned, and decorated the quarters with fir sprigs. Every last soldier looked dashing in his clean uniform and polished boots, freshly shaven, and with a new haircut. Richard himself sported a modern cut for his blond hair, and had splurged to go to the barbershop as well.

A joyful tension spread amongst the men and women, as they waited in front of the closed doors to the canteen, where the special dinner would be served.

When the doors opened Richard gasped. The usually bare and practical canteen featured a huge Christmas tree in one corner, sparkling with tinsel. Banners with swastikas hung from the ceiling and the tables were set with white tablecloths, red candles, and green fir sprigs. White ceramic dinnerware replaced the usual metal crockery and a half-liter beer mug adorned every setting.

Richard sat beside Karl and another man from his team, while Johann faced him on the opposite side of the long table. Despite the shortages, the cook and his helpers had outdone themselves by making roast pork and potato salad in quantities that satisfied even the most hoggish man.

The base commander orated with the typical rallying call to victoriously end this war and bring German supremacy to the world. But despite dutifully listening, none of his subalterns were interested in politics or war today.

The mingling smells of roast pork, candle wax, and fir tree made everybody giddy with appetite and nostalgia. As soon as the commander ended his speech, the men and women dug into their meals, joking and giggling. For one day, they would forget the realities of war.

Richard emptied his beer mug and asked for a refill, when Johann stood and put a bottle onto the table. “No more beer. This stuff is killer-diller.” He generously poured vodka into the glasses of his comrades.

“Prost!” everyone shouted and clinked glasses.

Prost!By the time Christmas stollen was served for dessert, Richard had difficulties balancing the cake on his fork until it reached his mouth. He barely noticed when one of the Blitzmädel, as they nicknamed the girls working for the Wehrmacht, took a seat at the piano and played O Tannenbaum.

stollenBlitzmädelO TannenbaumOne after another, the men joined her and belted out traditional Christmas songs at the top of their lungs until the mess hall vibrated with their enthusiastic renderings. Gifts were distributed: greeting cards, warm clothing, tobacco, and eatables, all sent by generous citizens at home for the troops.

Richard appreciated how fortunate he was to be at the barracks. In a moment of nostalgia, he caught Karl’s eye and knew that his friend too, was thinking of their last Christmas – spent with their late comrades in an icy, sodden trench.

“Come on, men, drink up!” Johann poured more vodka into his friends’ glasses.

“Enough, enough, comrade. I can barely stand,” Richard protested but to no avail. Johann insisted they share another drink. And another. Sometime later, Karl passed out.

“Don’t expect a boy to do a man’s job,” Johann snickered, glancing at Karl sprawled out in an awkward position across his chair.

“He is young, barely eighteen,” Richard said by way of an excuse for his pal, who would have all manner of painful regrets in the morning.

“What about you, Richard?” Johann teased, “Are you old enough to do a man’s job?”

“I believe I am,” Richard replied in a drunken slur. “At least I hope I am.”

“We’ll see about that. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Richard asked while two of his mates hauled him out of his chair. The floor buckled beneath his feet and he had to lean on his comrades for support.

“Come on, it’s a special surprise I have for you.” Johann led the way. Dragged along by the two mates, Richard reached a truck full of other drunken soldiers singing and shouting and eager to move on.

“I need to go to bed,” Richard protested, and his comrades hooted, “That’s exactly where we’re taking you.”

“That’s good,” he murmured, focused on keeping the insides of his bowels where they belonged. The raucous merriment in the vehicle became deafening, as drunken men cheered on the equally drunken driver, who careened and screeched at top speed over the bumpy roads until he stopped in the center of Lodz.

Nothing made sense anymore. “Where’s my bed?” Richard slurred, as the others bolted out of the truck, producing an ear-splitting roar that ripped through the night and informed the ladies of the brothel that their customers were ready for business.

“Come on, the fun is about to begin.” Johann pulled him down from the truck and dragged him along. “Hurry up, man! Or there’ll be none of the ladies left for us.”

“Ladies?” Richard’s eyes widened as understanding hit him.

“Yes, ladies. When was the last time you had s*x? I bet it’s been much too long.” Johann laughed.

“Me?” Richard slumped onto a step and the world started spinning around him.

“Holy s**t. It’s your first.”

It was true, but Richard shook his head. “You go ahead. I just need a minute to clear my head.”

Johann didn’t waste any time and dashed off. Moments later Richard vomited on his shoes. He managed to stagger back to the base and by the time he arrived most of the alcohol had cleared from his system.

I’m a complete loser. I can’t even sleep with a woman.

I’m a complete loser. I can’t even sleep with a woman.