‘Quite understood, Josef, but there it is, and I’m grateful for all the cooperation I get from you.’
Major Kirsten’s damaged eye ached. He had been advised to wear a patch, but could not bring himself to go about with a one-eyed look in addition to a one-armed state. He said, ‘I think I’ll opt for early retirement.’
General von Feldermann regarded him with a wry smile.
‘You need some rest,’ he said, ‘and I need to convince myself I’ve made the right decision between what is fair and what is unavoidable. That’s all for the moment, Josef. Get a few hours’ sleep. Everything now concerns only the offensive.’
Four hours later, Elissa knocked on Major Kirsten’s office door and entered. He had taken a rest himself, but still looked drawn. She looked freshened up, but unhappy.
‘Major?’
He saw her unhappiness and said, ‘Yes, not a very pleasant day, Lieutenant.’
Elissa drew a breath.
‘I am being transferred,’ she said.
‘So I’ve been informed,’ he said. He got up from his desk and walked to the window. The parkland of the chateau offered a misty green vista.
‘I would prefer, Major, I would prefer –’ Elissa coloured.
‘What would you prefer?’ he asked, his back to her.
‘To stay.’
‘Yes, I’d prefer that too.’
‘Am I to have no option?’
‘Promotion sometimes has an option to it. The orders of a general concerning transfers and dispositions leave no options. That is the basis of efficiency and discipline in the German Army.’
‘I have a feeling, Major, that I’m being transferred because – because –’
‘Yes. You are. We are both an embarrassment to the general. We know, you see. But his position is understandable. You must recognize that.’ He turned and smiled at her. It distressed him then, to see tears in her eyes. ‘Are you as unhappy as that?’
‘I am a little stupid, Major. It’s of very small account, a transfer, when everything else means life and death to Germany.’
‘I am ready myself for a quick end to the war. I also feel ready for retirement.’
‘Retirement? But you’re still young, Major.’
He laughed.
‘My dear Lieutenant, I’m almost forty.’
‘When a woman is forty, she’s on the bridge of sighs,’ said Elissa. ‘When a man is forty, he’s on the river of life.’
‘Well, I think I’ve been swept out to sea. No, Elissa, I’m ready for the pastures. There’s been too much war, and I’m depressed about Sophia. You’re convinced she loved Captain Marsh?’
‘I’m convinced the impossible happened,’ said Elissa, hiding the full extent of her unhappiness.
Major Kirsten shook his head at the incomprehensibility of women.
‘Elissa, we spent the night looking in all the wrong places. They were up against the wire fence, or almost so. I failed Sophia.’
‘No,’ said Elissa.
‘Had we found them earlier, or had we at least managed to separate them in some way, we could have saved her from tragedy.’
Elissa’s unhappiness deepened. She had known exactly where they were at one stage and done nothing. She had looked into Sophia’s eyes and seen a woman desperately in love, and so she had said nothing and done nothing, and that at a moment when Major Kirsten, with the help of Sergeant Lugar, could have taken care of everything.
‘You didn’t fail her,’ she said.
‘I failed myself, then.’ Major Kirsten thought of Sophia’s deep sadness. ‘I should have been less of an actor in that copse and more of a soldier. Well, at least you and I shared two very eventful days.’ He smiled reminiscently. ‘I count you as a very close friend, if I may. Elissa, we’ve real worries. For all my faith in General Ludendorff, I doubt our capacity to sustain the offensive long enough. There simply aren’t enough reserves, and when the Americans arrive in force against us, we shall be at our weakest and most vulnerable. We shall hope, of course, but one way or another the war will be over this year. I shan’t be too unhappy to commune with my vegetables.’
‘But you love the army, and you’ve given so much of yourself,’ said Elissa.
‘Not as much as the millions who’ve died,’ he said. ‘I’ve no real complaints, so compose yourself.’
‘I’m not in the mood to be rapturous,’ said Elissa. Still sensitive in his presence, she coloured again under his concerned eyes. She was not to know he was wishing himself younger, with two arms. She drew another breath. ‘I am to leave in the morning. I have a little work to finish this afternoon. You will then allow me to say goodbye to you?’
‘Allow you? Good God, am I such a martinet?’
‘Oh, no. No. Perhaps I should say goodbye now. Major, it has been so good, working here with you.’ New tears came then and her weakness shocked her, for the tears spilled. Silently, Major Kirsten gave her his handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry – please forgive me for embarrassing you.’
‘Permit me,’ he said. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘That is to salute you and to convey the very deep regard I have for you. For you as much as myself and Germany, I wish victory and peace. Soldiers lose their lives in war, but it is women who endure the greater suffering. The peace must belong mainly to you, Elissa and all women.’
Elissa did not know how she was going to bear victory or peace with her emotions in the state they were.
‘Major, please don’t think me importunate, but on your estate, after the war – will you need someone? A secretary – someone to help you look after things? It would interest me very much, the business of an estate. Oh, I don’t mean to imply you could not run it very well yourself, but if –’ She stopped. It was too difficult to make known to him exactly why she was so unhappy.
Major Kirsten’s self-discipline cracked for a moment, and he looked painfully unsure of himself. Then he said lightly, ‘You must allow me to write you about such an excellent idea. My place isn’t huge – it can’t compare with the great estates of Prussia, but the prospect of renewing our relationship in peacetime is very tempting. I’ll let you know eventually how things stand and what kind of a post can be offered you.’
Elissa did not really know whether that was a promise or not, whether it gave her hope or not.
‘Thank you, Major,’ she said.
‘My dear Elissa –’ He checked himself. In not finding Sophia in time, he had failed her and also her father. He felt he had little to offer a woman to compensate for his many limitations. ‘Until the war is over, then,’ he said.
‘Yes, Major,’ said Elissa, and felt her heart was dying.
Ludendorff’s offensive began with a massive attack south of Valenciennes, the purpose of which was to roll back the British on both sides of St Quentin. The British, caught off guard, reeled under the hammer blow. Outnumbered, outgunned, their lines broke, and for the first time in years the war on the Western Front became fluid in terms of ground gained, ground lost and the rapid movements of armies. Ludendorff won a well-planned and well-executed breakthrough. The Germans swept on, crossing the Somme to return to the territory they had won during their great advance in 1914. They turned on the French. This was the crucial stage of their offensive. With the British still staggering from the unexpected weight and fire of the assault, Ludendorff sought to smash the French and drive his huge wedge between them and the British. The French engaged, the British recovered, the Americans were in, and the battle produced a stalemate that was to prove fatal for Germany, although Ludendorff was not finished yet.
Chapter Twenty
THE GERMAN SOLDIER on guard outside the isolated sickroom saluted at the approach of an officer with one arm. Major Kirsten returned the salute, the soldier opened the door for him, and he went in. The patient looked up from his bed in which he lay on his back. Major Kirsten regarded him with a great deal of interest. He saw a man whose eyes were steady and whose mouth was
firm. The patient, a little drawn, eyed his visitor with curiosity. He saw the empty left sleeve. He gave Major Kirsten a slight smile.
‘Good afternoon, Captain Marsh,’ said the major in English. He had not wanted this commission. It was one he disliked. But he had, by silent assent, promised General von Feldermann he would do what he could. ‘May I enquire after your health?’
‘You may. You’re Major Kirsten.’
‘I am.’
‘I thought so.’ Again a slight smile. ‘My health? Improving, I think.’
‘You should be dead, of course,’ said Major Kirsten evenly.
‘Have I disappointed anyone?’ asked Captain Marsh. It had been three weeks since the incident.
‘No. You have annoyed a few, however. I congratulate you on your resilience, but you’re in serious trouble. Do you realize that?’
‘What’s going to happen?’ asked Captain Marsh.
‘Yes, there you have it,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘But I’m here to point the way to the best possible conclusion. A prisoner-of-war camp. However, I’d first like to know how you managed to be so elusive when you must have found your hostage a most awkward burden.’
Captain Marsh reflected. The request was aimed, of course, at Sophia’s possible complicity and its extent.
‘You’ll understand,’ he said, ‘that having seen me hold up two of your soldiers, Miss von Feldermann knew I would use my revolver. Not on her, naturally, but on anyone who stood in my way, German or otherwise. She did not want to be responsible for someone getting a bullet. By not doing what I wanted her to, she would have felt responsible. She’s a compassionate young lady. I’m sorry, of course, about all the inconvenience I put her to.’
‘Are you?’ Major Kirsten raised an eyebrow. ‘Why did you need to keep her with you, except to use as a hostage? Since I imagine you know that would earn you the death penalty, I presume you’ll deny you took her as a hostage. Why, after you abandoned the car, didn’t you simply tie her up and leave her?’
‘No rope,’ said Captain Marsh, ‘and I thought there was always a good chance of getting hold of another car.’
‘Mine, as it turned out.’
‘So sorry,’ said Captain Marsh. ‘Not that I was able to drive myself. I dislocated one finger and broke another when I crash-landed. Miss von Feldermann is a very good driver, and you’ll appreciate, I know, the advantage of using a car instead of one’s legs.’
Major Kirsten looked sceptical. The man, obviously, meant to protect Sophia against the slightest suspicion of collaboration.
‘I must advise you that you’ve a difficult case to answer, Captain Marsh, and Miss von Feldermann an awkward one. I’m going to assume you have some respect for her, and would prefer the matter to be resolved in the simplest and quietest way. An inquiry leading to your being tried in a criminal court would mean the appearance of Miss von Feldermann on both occasions. You would have to explain your every action, and how you kept her under duress for the purposes of making your escape. She would have to explain all her own actions. She would be asked why she apparently made no attempt to get away from you. You spent a few hours in an inn at Lutargne with her, where the proprietor asked no questions of either of you, or so he said, and she made no protest to him or his family. Some people would feel that extraordinary.’
‘Let some people declare if they’d call for help or make any protests in a situation where a gun might go off,’ said Captain Marsh. ‘As a uniformed combatant, I’m entitled to resist capture and promote my escape according to the rules of war.’
‘Ah, rules,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘I’m not sure how they apply to Sophia von Feldermann, except to demand of her the actions of a patriot. Bear in mind that I should give evidence.’
‘Yes, you were very close to us at times.’
‘Very close. I was never sure, however, of how much of a real threat you were to her.’
‘Major Kirsten?’ said Captain Marsh, and felt worried for Sophia.
‘Yes, very awkward,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘You can see why we prefer a quiet solution, those of us whose regard for her has no selfish motives.’
Captain Marsh, wincing, said, ‘There was no easy way out, once I decided to commandeer her car and her services.’
‘And there were other factors, of course,’ said Major Kirsten, ‘but there it is, we’ll dispatch you to a prisoner-of-war camp providing you keep it all to yourself and make no attempt to communicate with her.’
‘Why should I want to communicate with a young lady only too pleased to be free of me?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Major Kirsten thoughtfully, ‘why should you?’
‘You can have no doubts about her patriotism, since she was the one who shot me. Twice, I believe, and scored a hit each time.’
‘You’re prepared, then, to elect for an inquiry and a trial, and for her to be subjected to the ordeal of being questioned?’
‘No, damn it, I’m not,’ said Captain Marsh.
‘Her father, General von Feldermann, will be most relieved you wish to spare her that. You are requested, of course, to forget her.’
Captain Marsh looked plainly out of temper with that. He was being asked to permanently sever his links with Sophia. He accepted they could have no real relationship until the war was over. But when peace came, he would need to make contact of some kind with her. He would want to tell her he understood why she shot him. At the very last, in that grey dawn, she had been as true to her country as she could be. She had been warm and loving during the night.
‘Forget her for the time being, until the war is over, is that what you mean, Major Kirsten?’
‘I mean forget her.’ Major Kirsten was firm. ‘She belongs to a very conservative Prussian family. Is it necessary for me to tell you more than that? You aren’t getting a bad bargain, my friend – a prisoner-of-war camp instead of a trial and a possible execution.’
‘Has Miss von Feldermann agreed to this?’
‘You have my word that Miss von Feldermann would like to forget what happened,’ said Major Kirsten, and knew that to be quite true in respect of her firing of the revolver.
Captain Marsh winced again.
‘Yes, I can understand how she feels,’ he said, ‘but even so, I’ve reservations. I can keep quiet about her, and will, and I can promise not to communicate with her, especially if she wishes it, but I’m not sure it’s a promise I can keep for ever.’
‘I see.’ Major Kirsten pondered on the problem of traumatic love. He was not prepared to take up a wholly unyielding attitude, only to do as much as he thought necessary to the immediate purpose. ‘Will you give me your word you’ll wait two years?’
‘Two years? God Almighty,’ said Captain Marsh.
‘You know as well as I do, my friend, that even if the war ended tomorrow, no real reconciliation could be effected between your people and ours for quite two years. However, let us say a year after the end of the war. Do you agree?’
‘That could still be a hell of a time,’ said Captain Marsh. It could be a time of very painful waiting, giving Sophia every opportunity to forget him and to fall in love with one of her own countrymen, probably the most natural and helpful thing she could do for herself. But he had no alternative. ‘I give you my word,’ he said.
‘I accept your word,’ said Major Kirsten.
‘I’d like her family address. Is that asking too much of you?’
‘Yes,’ said Major Kirsten, but made a gesture. Captain Marsh handed him a writing pad. Major Kirsten placed it on the bedside table and scribbled Sophia’s family address in South Prussia. Captain Marsh thanked him. The major gave him a brief nod.
‘Goodbye, Captain Marsh.’
‘How is the war going?’ asked the RFC man as the major walked to the door.
‘Bloodily,’ said Major Kirsten.
Ludendorff had launched another massive attack in an attempt to destroy the Ypres salient. Again the result was inconclusive. Further attacks were made in May
and June, all brilliantly conceived and all taking heavy tolls of the Allies and disastrous tolls of the Germans. Ludendorff, short of reserves, made his final effort in July, a huge and desperate offensive on both sides of Rheims. It failed.
Germany, completely exhausted, could no longer plan for victory, only for a defence effective enough to secure tolerable peace terms. But the country was being reduced to a condition of near anarchy by the effects of the sea blockade, by the huge casualty lists and by revolutionaries dangerously infected by the Bolshevism which had overthrown Imperial Russia.
Germany asked for an armistice. The Kaiser abdicated. The war was lost.
Chapter Twenty-one
THE BOOKSHOP IN Munich was a treasure house of literature, and it seemed a pity, with so many excellent volumes on offer, that there was only one customer present. And the customer, ancient and shabby, was more likely to browse than to buy. But times were hard in Germany in June 1920, and few people were spending money on books.
There was another man in the shop, talking to Mr Meister, the proprietor. He, however, had only come to inquire about the assistant.
‘At lunch, at lunch,’ said Mr Meister, wispy-haired and testy. Despite his love of literature and his affinity with people who shared that love, he had to be testy or some people would stand in his shop all day, reading the finest works and buying not even a bookmark.
‘When will she be back?’ asked the caller.
‘Back? Back?’ Mr Meister peered irritably over his spectacles.
‘Yes, when will Miss Landsberg be back from lunch?’
‘Ah, from lunch? Why didn’t you say so?’ Mr Meister took his spectacles off and fussily polished them. ‘She’ll be back when she’s finished her bread and cheese and her young man is ready to escort her.’
‘I see.’ The caller smiled resignedly. ‘Does that mean she’ll linger?’
‘Linger? Linger?’
‘Young women do linger with young men. What time is she due back?’
‘One-thirty,’ said Mr Meister.
The caller consulted his watch. It was just coming up to one.
Love for a Soldier Page 24
