War Girls Box Set

Chapter 14

In the following days a bunch of Wehrmachtshelferinnen arrived in Lodz to take over the positions of the men leaving for the front.

WehrmachtshelferinnenCheerful faces. Happy eyes. Dapper uniforms. The girls were excited about their new jobs. And the boys loved the female company. Of course, romantic involvement and inappropriate advances were strictly f*******n and could land a guy in lock-up, but there were clever ways around it.

“Why don’t we invite a few of the Blitzmädel on a night out in town?” Holger suggested, using the nickname of the helper girls derived from the distinctive lightning-flash emblem on their uniform.

Blitzmädel “But won’t that get us in trouble?” Karl asked with burning ears. He’d already had his eye on a petite blonde with a knockout figure.

Johann entered the discussion, “Not if we make it a friendly group event. You know, protecting the girls from the locals. As long as we stay together none of the officers will object. Although,” he said with a wink, “I might not be able to count very well after a few beers.”

Said and done.

Richard enjoyed the night out in town, even though finding a girl was the furthest thing from his mind, since he was secretly hoping to see the brunette from Baluty again. The memory of the quick moment when she’d relaxed her body against his still sent hot shivers through his veins. He wished, yearned, and dreamed about seeing her again and placing a kiss on her soft skin.

Soon enough the cheerful group of young adults split into pairs, and when curfew arrived, Johann kept his promise and didn’t count his boys.

The next morning another new arrival was the topic of conversation in the mess hall.

“Have you heard? A Waffen-SS unit arrived in Lodz,” Holger said.

“Waffen-SS? What do they want here? Shouldn’t they rather be where the frontline is?” a fellow called Frank answered.

“They’re here to oversee closing down the Ghetto and resettling the eighty thousand Jews.” Richard glanced around. The voice belonged to Feldwebel Huber.

“Does the mayor think we can’t do this?” someone bickered and the Feldwebel cast him a severe look.

“You’ll soon be happy that the Dirlewanger brigade is doing the dirty work for you.”

A murmur ran through the room. Every last man had heard about SS-Oberführer Oskar Dirlewanger and his men. Originally composed of poachers, common criminals, and concentration camp prisoners, nobody had taken them seriously – at first.

But the Dirlewangers, as they proudly called themselves, had soon taken a stand. A reputation of unparalleled terror preceded them and a trail of s******c violence and unspeakable atrocities was left in their wake.

Richard’s stomach turned queasy at some of the things he’d heard. Under normal circumstances the degenerates would all have been court-martialed out of the Wehrmacht. According to the grapevine the Dirlewangers made up with brutality what they lacked in discipline. Alcohol flowed in abundance and members of the troop or its leader were rarely seen in a sober condition.

“Let’s go.” Richard elbowed Karl.

“Dirlewanger, my a*s,” Karl echoed Richard’s own thoughts as they walked back to their quarters.

“If they’re here to close down the Ghetto, I’m inclined to believe the resettlement is a hoax.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Karl objected.

“And I don’t want to find out. I’m afraid what we’ve seen in Baluty hasn’t been the worst yet.”

Karl’s face paled. “I don’t want to be part of that.”

“Me neither.”

An ominous haze hung over the atmosphere during the next days, as if everyone waited, expected even, for something bad to happen. It didn’t take long. One evening, news came in that subversives had shot two German officers in the center of town.

The very next morning the retaliation was set into motion. Wehrmacht soldiers patrolled the streets of Lodz, securing the exit roads out of town. The Dirlewangers, drunk and rowdy even in the early morning, set out to break doors and drag men, women, and children out of their houses. The marketplace filled with a crowd of Poles, quivering with fear. Some tried to escape, but after the first shots rang through the air, none of the civilians dared to run.

Richard looked at the miserable faces of those expecting to meet their maker. He turned even as the bile rose in his throat. Some kind of retaliation was appropriate, or the Poles would continue to shoot German officers, but he resented the manhandling and a***e of innocent citizens. Slaughtered bodies littered the ground in the tumult that followed. Richard fisted his hand with rage and helplessness as he witnessed how a Pole bleeding from the head staggered and dropped like a felled tree when another rifle butt struck him. The rampaging SS-trooper stepped over his body and continued his riot elsewhere.

Richard sprinted to the wounded man and bent over him, lifting his head to let him drink from his flask. An outraged scream from behind pierced Richard’s ears and when he turned his head he noticed SS-Oberführer Dirlewanger himself screaming at him.

“Shoot that Polish bastard!” Dirlewanger commanded.

Richard’s eyes became wide. “I’m not going–”

“Shoot, I say! This is an order!”

Richard knew what happened to soldiers who disobeyed a direct order, but he stood firm. “No. He’s unarmed. And wounded.”

“Coward!” The furious monster collared Richard and yelled, “Anyone here man enough to do the job?”

Moments later one of his men stepped forward and aimed at the Polish man lying on the street.

Bang!

Bang!In that tortured moment, Richard made a decision.

Later in the barracks, he was called to Leutnant Scherer’s office. He’d committed too serious an offence to let go without consequences.

“Soldat Klausen, you disobeyed a direct order,” the Leutnant said with a stern voice.

“I’m sorry, Leutnant. But I cannot murder an innocent civilian.”

“I agree with you, but my hands are bound here. Dirlewanger is livid and demands you be punished. So what am I going to do with you?” Leutnant Scherer’s face suddenly seemed tired, clueless even.

“Sir…may I make a suggestion?”

“You may.”

Richard mustered all his courage to go through with his plan. “I wish to be transferred to a fighting unit.”

Leutnant Scherer’s jaw dropped to the floor and he ran a hand through his cropped hair before he answered. “Let me get this right. You’re asking me for a transfer to the front?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You know this is suicide. Nobody in their right mind volunteers to go to the front. Not when the Russians are kicking the living daylights out of our boys.”

“I know this, Leutnant. But I would rather die honorably on the battlefield than be part of the atrocities committed against civilians.”

“If this is your wish, I will expedite your marching orders,” Leutnant Scherer said and put a heavy hand on Richard’s shoulder. “I admire your strength of conviction. You’re a good man. Never forget this. Dismissed.”

Once he’d left the Leutnant’s office, Richard returned to his quarters, berating himself for the stupidity of his decision.

“How’d it go?” Karl, Johann, and the other boys had been sitting on pins and needles.

Richard smirked. “Fairly well, I guess…he transferred me to a fighting unit.”

His mates blanched and everyone talked at once, until Johann silenced them and said, “I’ll talk to him. He made a rash decision–”

“It was my suggestion.”

Heads snapped around. Mouths gaped wide open.

“Your idea?” Karl finally broke the silence.

“Yes. I can’t live with myself knowing I am part of these cruelties.” Richard flopped onto his bunk and tried a lopsided grin. “I’d rather take my chances on the battlefield. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been through that already.”