War Brothers

by Patrick Slaney

  ‘Come in, come in, come in, Helmut. I am just so surprised to see you.’ She kept touching his face, checking whether it was actually him or some extraordinary dream.

  He went through the passageway to the rear of the house and entered the kitchen. His mother in law had got up as a result of his knocking and was now vigorously poking the range cooker to get the fire going.

  ‘This is a surprise Helmut,’ Frau Schreiber commented.

  ‘I had no time to write to you as they only told us that we could take leave at the last minute.’

  ‘Anyway it is nice to see you after so long, even though you are looking as if you could do with a good meal,’ Frau Schreiber added.

  ‘I only have to return to the Front in eight days’ time, so I have plenty of time to recover and get used to sleeping in a bed again.’

  ‘Oh Helmut, I can’t believe that it is you. It’s a year and a half since I have seen you and I have missed you,’ Anelie said, giving him another massive hug.

  ‘Well, I have got the fire going now, so I am going back to your father, Anelie. You should give Helmut something to eat before you go to work. I’ll leave you two to it.’ With that she left them to return upstairs to her husband.

  ‘So your Father is also here, Anelie?’ Helmut asked.

  ‘Yes, he was gassed at the second battle of Ypres in April last year. He then spent six months in hospital before being invalided out of the army. He has been here ever since.’

  ‘Has he fully recovered?’

  ‘No, he will never get better as his lungs were so badly damaged. He is sadly not the same person as he used to be as he has trouble breathing and is continually having coughing fits. I sympathise with my mother for what she has to put up with, and it has taken its toll on her health.’

  ‘This bloody war Anelie, it has a lot to answer for. I have lost so many good friends. They have been chatting to me one minute, and blown to pieces the next.’

  ‘It’s even worse than that Helmut.’ Anelie looked into his eyes. ‘You probably haven’t heard that your twin brother Markus was killed last year at the Battle of Bolimov. He was buried close to Warsaw. Your poor father was devastated.’

  ‘I did hear that news and it hit me particularly hard as I couldn’t even get to his funeral. I’ll talk to my Dad about the situation tomorrow when, hopefully, I will feel stronger.’

  ‘I must go to work at 6:00 Helmut so you can sleep until I get back after 3:00 pm. I guess that you need a lot of sleep and rest.’

  ‘I’ll be fine Anelie. The thing that I crave the most is to be warm.’

  ‘You can make yourself some coffee and have something to eat. I must get dressed and get off to work. The customers will be coming into the bakery at 6:30 as usual. Unfortunately, they don’t know that you have returned for a few days from the war, and they get terribly grumpy if they have to wait.’

  When Anelie returned from the bakery at 3:30 pm he was still in bed, having slept the sleep of the dead.

  She leant over to give him a kiss, and he sensed her presence. He grabbed her and pulled her to him and managed to get her under the covers. That started an evening of love making the like of which neither had experienced before. The months of being apart had bred a new greed in both of them, and they just wanted to spend time locked in each other’s embrace.

  That established the pattern of the next eight days. Anelie managed to take some days off from the bakery and they spent an enjoyable time rediscovering the picturesque old city of Lubeck. Little did they know that this was the last time they would be able to spend time together as the war would intervene dramatically in their relationship.

  Once Helmut had caught up on his sleep he was able to help his father in the bakery, and it was just like old times. The heat from the ovens was superb and drove all the raw cold of the trenches out of his bones, and the smell of the freshly baked bread made him feel extremely secure.

  The time flew by, and all too soon there was the very sad scene at Lubeck train station of Anelie and Helmut locked in a final embrace. It was with immense difficulty that he had to tear himself away from her and get on the train before it left without him. As the train chugged its way out of the station, he waved to her through the space at the window he had fought to gain. For once his size had helped in winning his space.

  Chapter 10

  The Father’s story continues:

  The train was packed with many of his fellow travellers being uniformed clad members of the Wehrmacht returning to the front in France. Helmut managed to squeeze himself into a seat which certainly wasn’t large enough for his large frame, but meant that he didn’t have to stand for the entire journey.

  He thought to himself: I must be out of my mind to be returning voluntarily to the hell of the trenches? Could I not slip away somewhere with Anelie until this dreadful war is over? I can’t endure what I experienced in France, and I will most likely be killed in the next attack. I won’t have the lovely comforting smell of freshly baked bread in my life for a long time if ever again.

  Dread invaded Helmut’s heart and a fear that he hadn’t experienced before took over his whole thought process. Sadness enveloped him, and he put his head down to hide the tears that were welling in his eyes.

  Arriving at the station near Arras, where he had left with hope in his heart two weeks previously, he had to trudge through the deep mud and puddles in order to re-join his men in the support trenches. Shortly after arriving he was called to a briefing where he was told that his regiment was being relocated to the Somme area to strengthen the German lines there. A major offensive was expected as the enemy was massing their troops against them in that area.

  Helmut’s hope that he might be going to a region where the conditions would be better were quickly dispelled. They were given two days to familiarise themselves with the geography of the new trench layout before being moved up into the front line. More deep mud and the stench of death. Information from enemy soldiers, taken prisoner in forays that took place at night, confirmed that the British and French forces were preparing a massive attack which would involve hundreds of thousands of soldiers across an unusually wide front.

  On the 1st. July all hell broke loose. Just before dawn a massive bombardment on the German advanced trenches commenced. Masses of the enemy came over the top of their trenches and started moving towards the German positions like ants. The bombardment suddenly stopped, and an eerie silence hung over no-man’s land. The enemy troops kept approaching in a line about two kilometres long. The order to fire wasn’t given until the enemy were well within range, and then every gun, on the German side, opened fire. It was a massacre and the British and French soldiers dropped like flies in front of the German lines. Amazingly enough the occasional brave soul got through and started firing into the trenches. Relief parties were immediately sent to the areas under attack, and they were quickly expelled back into no-man’s land.

  War had been easier to handle emotionally when the opposing armies were just confronting each other from the safety of their respective trenches. The enemy had seemed just a faceless foe. A wounded Tommy fell into the trench that Helmut and his men were occupying. They gave him whatever help they could, under the circumstances, but he died right beside them. War had become highly personal.

  The Battle of the Somme was a long affair and ground on and on, day after day. There was no respite for the defenders as the enemy continued to launch attack after attack against all areas of the front. Survival was the key and Helmut thanked God for every day that he survived. He hadn’t been religious before he arrived at the trenches, but he now believed that there was somebody up there protecting him. He and his men were moved around the defensive area on a daily basis, providing reinforcements wherever they were required. His commanders had continually to determine where the next threat was likely to come from and move troops to stren
gthen that area.

  It was on the 16th. July that Helmut’s war came to an end. His small detachment had been moved to defensive positions in a small town called Ovillers in anticipation of an attack. Unlike most of the other defensive positions that he had been in over the past two weeks, he was on a back slope, and forward vision was extremely limited.

  Suddenly a mass of enemy troops appeared about a hundred meters away, and from the other flank another attack commenced. The outer defences were overwhelmed and the enemy kept coming. Helmut’s position was quickly surrounded, and he gave the orders to his troop to lay down their arms and surrender. In the confusion the Tommies kept firing, killing a lot of his men. Seeing how large and strong a man he was one of the approaching soldiers gave an order just as he was about to be shot.

  ‘Don’t shoot him Norm, we can use him to take the Captain back,’ the Corporal shouted.

  ‘Who; this one Corp?’ he said pointing at Helmut.

  ‘Yes him’

  The Corporal waved his rifle at Helmut, indicating that he should follow him back down the trench the way they had come. Just around the corner there was an officer lying on the ground holding a badly damaged knee. Another soldier was kneeling in front of him fixing a tourniquet around the upper part of the leg to lessen the bleeding.

  ‘Captain, we have just captured this powerful guy, and we will make him carry you back to our lines,’ the corporal shouted down to the Captain. ‘Norm here will go with you, and he will make sure that you get to our trenches. He has orders to shoot the Kraut if he tries to escape.’

  ‘Thank you Corporal. There is no way that I can go back on my own.’

  Helmut bent down and grabbed the officer under his armpits, putting him across his shoulders. The small rescue party then set off at a trot across no-man’s land to the British trenches.

  Bullets were still flying around them as they ran across the 200 meters or so of intervening territory. Helmut had to be careful where he placed his feet as there were so many bodies scattered across the ground that he was in danger of tripping on one and falling.

  Just as he got to the British trenches, the soldier, who had been called Norm, staggered and fell. He had been hit and killed instantly by a stray bullet. Helmut stopped momentarily, but then ran the last twenty meters and jumped over the parapet into the trench with the officer. He was immediately surrounded by enemy soldiers.

  ‘Don’t shoot the Captain called out. This man has just carried me back from the German trenches where I was injured. Get help for me organized and take him to join the rest of the prisoners.

  Helmut put the Captain down on an ammunition box. The officer put out his hand to shake Helmut’s hand.

  ‘What’s your name soldier,’ he asked.

  ‘Helmut Bekker.’

  ‘Well Helmut Bekker, thank you for saving my life and getting me back to my own lines safely.’

  Helmut, terrified at what might happen to him now his job of carrying the officer had finished, nodded politely and shook the officer’s hand.

  Two soldiers plus an NCO had assembled while the pleasantries were going on, and Helmut was now marched away along the connecting trenches from the front towards the rear of the British positions. He joined a group of about fifty other Germans who had been captured that day. Shortly afterwards they were marched under guard further away from the scene of the battle.

  Helmut thought to himself: My war is over and I am alive. This morning I woke up thinking that this could be my last day on earth, and now the battle is behind me. Carrying that officer saved my life and got me behind the British front line and now I am going into captivity for the duration of the war.

  Helmut smiled, and his whole body relaxed. He certainly had no intention of trying to escape. As a captive, life might be difficult, but at least he would be alive.

  They gradually made their way to the coast and on to Dunkirk where they met up with more prisoners and were loaded onto a boat. They were made to sit on the deck in groups which were covered by sentries with rifles. It started to rain and spray blew over the prisoners as the boat ploughed through rough seas. Helmut let the spray wash over his face, welcoming the salt taste of the water. The rain and the spray were bearable as there wasn’t the smell of death and mud any more. Helmut said a short prayer thanking God for his deliverance.

  On arriving at Folkstone in the South of England, they were all put on to a train, and, in various stages, brought to the North of England. What surprised Helmut was that they were actually given food at regular intervals, and there was no animosity towards them.

  Finally, they arrived at a place called Catterick, which Helmut was told, was in Yorkshire. They were then marched to the internment camp a short distance away where Helmut was destined to spend the next few years of his life.

  Just less than a year later, Helmut received a letter from home delivered to the camp by the Red Cross. To his amazement he read that he was now the father of twin boys who had been born in Lubeck on the 5th. February 1917. His wife had named them Kristoff and Markus.

  Chapter 11

  Back with Markus:

  Too soon it was time for me re-join my fellow rowers from Kiel as we had to return home, so I had to make my farewells to my father and Chris. I didn’t want to leave them. Lubeck seemed so terribly far away from Yorkshire where Chris and my Dad lived. I had arrived in London only a few days before as a German student who had lost his father in the First World War and whose life centred on his mother and grandad in Lubeck and his university life in Kiel. I had seen another better side of life in England and unbelievably I had found out that my father wasn’t dead, and I also had a twin brother who was very English. My whole existence had been shaken to the core.

  We had worked out a plan for keeping in touch and getting to know each other better. Provided war didn’t break out in the meantime, I would come to England the following summer and Chris would visit Germany.

  They came to see me off at Henley-on-Thames station, and we hugged until the train departed. I had never known such heart ache, and, if the truth be known, I didn’t want to leave them and return to Germany.

  When I had set out from Germany, just over a week before, I had no idea that I would be such a different person on the return journey. My whole world had changed, and my heart was now with my brother and father in England. I tried to explain my feelings to Walter, but he couldn’t possible know what was going on in my head. I think that he was more concerned that he had a lost a valued friend, and I now was pre-occupied with thoughts about my family rather than with him.

  Arriving back in Kiel, I couldn’t wait to dump all my rowing gear and catch a train back to Lubeck to tell my mother about the encounter with my father and Chris. Early the next morning Walter and I headed for the train station from where he would set off for Munich and his home, and I would get the train to Lubeck. I didn’t envy him his seven hour plus trip as I would be home in ninety minutes.

  I was like an overwound clock spring. I was dying to bring my mother up to date on what had happened, but wasn’t too sure how she would take the fact that her secret about my father and brother was now no longer a secret. I practically ran home to drop off my bag before going to the bakery where she worked.

  The bakery was full of customers and my mother was flat out serving them. She smiled as she spotted me waiting to talk to her. I went over and gave her a hug,

  ‘Mum, is there any chance of me talking to you,’ I said in her ear as she continued to serve the customers.

  ‘I can’t leave now as we are extremely busy. Go and see if your grandad will relieve me for a few minutes.’

  I went further into the bakery to see if I could find my grandad. He was speaking on the telephone in the office.

  When he put the phone down I approached him.

  ‘Grandad, please can you go and take
over the counter while I talk to my mother. I have just arrived home from England and have something important to tell her,’ I said in my best pleading voice.

  ‘OK Markus, I will go out there for a bit, but please don’t be too long as I am very busy. You wait in the office here, and I will send your mother through to you.’

  A few minutes later my mother came rushing in and gave me another hug and an affectionate kiss.

  ‘What do you want to tell me that is so urgent that it can’t wait till later Markus?’

  ‘When I was in England, something extraordinary occurred, Mum.’

  ‘What do you mean extraordinary Markus?’

  ‘Well I had an unexpected meeting with someone that I didn’t know existed.’

  ‘I think I know what is coming Markus as in the back of my mind I was afraid that something like this would happen if you went to England.’

  ‘I met my twin brother Chris and my father.’ I felt tears coming to my eyes and I felt intensely emotional.

  ‘Oh Markus, how did you feel?

  ‘I was extremely happy, but also extremely upset for some reason. Dad was able to explain what happened all those years ago, and I understand why you kept me and gave Chris to Dad to live in England.’

  I then explained to my mother how Chris and I had come to meet each other and how that had resulted in the encounter with our father.

  ‘Listen Markus I must go back to the counter and let grandad get back to his work. He hates looking after the customers as he can’t resist talking to them and people, still in the queue, get annoyed at being kept waiting.

  ‘I’ll remain here and talk to grandad for a while and then I’ll go home and catch up on my sleep. When you get home from work, I will fill you in on the details.’

  A little while later grandad came back into the office.

  ‘You’re looking good Markus. Did your trip to London go off well?’ he asked me as he entered the office.