War Girl Ursula

by Marion Kummerow

  Ursula

  War Girl Series

  Marion Kummerow

  War Girl Ursula

  Marion Kummerow

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2017 Marion Kummerow

  This book is copyrighted and protected by copyright laws.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by http://www.StunningBookCovers.com

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 1

  Berlin, January 1943

  Ursula Klausen looked through misty eyes at the steel helmet beside her. A tear slid down her cheeks as she listened to the marriage registrar ask, “Do you Ursula Klausen take Andreas Hermann to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  “Yes,” she answered, struggling to keep her voice steady. She tucked an imaginary strand of her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ear and reached her hand out, sliding her fingertips over the hard and cold steel.

  She wouldn’t receive an answer from the helmet, and her fiancé was far away on the Eastern Front, unable to obtain leave for his own wedding. It made her so sad. She imagined her beloved Andreas sitting next to a veil instead of his bride at that very moment. Her chest constricted. When two people in love married, they should be together.

  The marriage registrar at the Standesamt continued with the formalities, reading the groom’s agreement to marry her before asking the two witnesses to sign the marriage certificate.

  Ursula put the golden wedding band on her finger and lapsed into her thoughts. This should have been the happiest day in her life, but the war had ruined everything. It had yanked Andreas from her side and thrust him into the trenches, leaving her to worry about him every second.

  She sighed and glanced around the small office at the guests present. Her soon-to-be mother-in-law, an elderly cousin, her mother, solemn as a nun, and her two sisters, Anna and Lotte, who both smiled as brightly as they could muster. The smiles vanished when they looked in unison at Ursula, and as one, they looked away.

  A prick of anger stabbed through Ursula. It wasn’t that she had lost faith in the Führer or the war effort. Quite the contrary. The Führer had assured the German populace that the defeat at Stalingrad was only a temporary setback, and Ursula believed him. No, she clung to his words with every fiber of her being. It was as if believing Hitler’s words would ensure Andreas’ safe return home. To her, his wife.

  But at the same time, doubts crept into her heart. The war had stolen away the men in her life. Her father, a man in his forties – whose white-blonde hair and electric blue eyes she’d inherited – wasn’t there to hand her over or brush his scratchy lips against her cheek. He had always been Ursula’s pillar of strength and protection. It tore her heart into pieces to know that he now fought out there in the blizzards of the harsh Soviet winter along with her younger brother, Richard.

  Richard. He was hardly more than a boy with his seventeen years. They’d torn him and his friends from school, thrusting them into war. Nothing more than a bunch of schoolboys who were unprepared for the hardships and cruelties at the front.

  A small smile tugged at her lips as she remembered Richard the day before he left. His uniform two sizes too big for his lanky body. The blonde hair tousled as he donned the helmet and tried a crooked smile to calm his mother’s nerves.

  Mutter hadn’t voiced her worry or her fear, and her face had shown the same solemn expression as it did today. Nevertheless, Ursula had sensed her mother’s devastation over sending her baby into the fight.

  “…I declare you Mrs. Ursula Hermann.” The voice of the official catapulted her back to the present. She got up and received the congratulations of the few guests.

  Mutter embraced her for a few moments and then held her at arm’s length. “You look lovely, my dear.”

  “Thanks, Mutter. Anna and Lotte have been a great help.” Ursula smiled and waved at her sisters. Anna, younger by one year, had pinned Ursula’s blonde waves back and given her a creamy red lipstick. The lipstick enhanced her lips into satisfyingly perfect points at her cupid’s bow and the color contrasted nicely with her electric blue eyes.

  Both Anna and Lotte had chipped in with their clothing ration cards to allow Ursula to buy a new dress and handbag for her big day. She looked down at the dark blue woolen A-line skirt that ended mid-calf and the fitted jacket in the same color. The only reference to her special occasion was a white lace scarf draped casually around her shoulders. Her mother had surprised her with this precious memento she’d seamed from an old curtain.

  Ursula had always been proud of her small waist and her curvy hips, but as she smoothed her hands down the skirt, there was nothing but bones beneath. While the government provided enough rations for everyone to be filled, they certainly didn’t allow putting on fat.

  “Alles Gute,” her mother-in-law wished her well with a formal handshake. The woman was understandably at a loss for words at the peculiar situation. Her son couldn’t be present at his own wedding. Neither could her husband, who was missing in action.

  The elderly cousin dabbed with a spotless white handkerchief at her eyes and quickly turned away. Marrying in this way drew the realities of war to the surface, a reality every woman – and man – in Berlin did their best to suppress. Ursula sighed. As much as she supported the Führer’s vision to make Germany great again, she hated the side effects it involved. A wedding without the groom.

  “I’m so happy for you.” Her youngest sister rushed into her arms, her face surrounded by flames of untamed ginger curls. Lotte wasn’t like other girls. She didn’t care much about her looks, and even less about keeping a tidy and ladylike appearance. Recently turned sixteen, she still behaved like a six-year-old, a wildcat that refused to conform to social standards and believed a girl could do anything a boy could.

  “Thanks, Lotte,” Ursula murmured.

  “But you really don’t look like a bride at all,” Lotte said and held her at arm’s length.

  “Don’t say that, Lotte,” Mutter chided her with a raised brow, “Ursula looks lovely. You don’t need a white gown to be a bride. What counts is what’s inside your heart.”

  Lotte pouted and opened her mouth for a retort, but closed it again at the raising of her mother’s other eyebrow. That look could stop a bear in mid-charge.

  “Come on, ladies, we have one hour to celebrate.” Anna linked arms with Ursula. Only one year apart, the two of them had been inseparable since childhood, despite their differences in character.

  The three sisters walked down the stairs arm in arm, the other three women a few
steps behind.

  Once Mutter was out of earshot, Lotte raised her voice again. “Why didn’t you wait until Andreas came home? It was awfully strange, your wedding. Now you’re married to a steel helmet,” she said with a giggle.

  Anna shot her a stern glance. “Ursula had her reasons. If you haven’t noticed, there’s a war going on.”

  “As if anyone could not have noticed…that stupid war is the cause of all evil. In fact, our so-called Führer is the cause of all evil. Without his oversized ego and determination to conquer every country around us, oppressing innocent people, we wouldn’t have to live through all this shit,” Lotte exclaimed, her voice higher-pitched with every word.

  “Shush,” Anna and Ursula said in unison, exchanging concerned looks.

  Seconds later, the voice of their mother came from behind them. “Charlotte Alexandra Klausen, do I have to wash out your mouth with soap?”

  Lotte knew as well as her sisters that talking back when Mutter used her full name would get her into hot water.

  “No, Mutter, I’m sorry,” she whispered, the glance she slid her sisters contradicting her words. By the time they’d reached the ground floor, Lotte couldn’t hold back her curiosity. “So why the rush? Are you expecting?”

  “Of course not.” Ursula shot her sister an indignant look. “And what do you know about these things anyway? You’re much too young for that.”

  “I know enough, alright. Aunt Lydia is always expecting after Uncle Peter comes home for leave.” Lotte showed off her wisdom. She had lived with her aunt in the countryside for the past two years and seen her become pregnant twice.

  Anna stifled a grin and turned towards her mother and the two other women. “Lotte and I have saved up our ration cards, and we’re inviting everyone for cake and Ersatzkaffee.”

  Ursula squeezed Anna’s arm in gratitude for the distraction. As much as she loved her youngest sister, her uninhibited speech was taxing, to say the least. Lotte blurted out what she thought and never considered the consequences, nor the feelings of others.

  It wasn’t that Ursula hadn’t asked herself that same question many times over. The reason she went forward with the wedding was that she wanted to make sure neither of them died before they were married. It sounded morose, but it was the truth. During these awful times, death lingered around every corner, and nobody could trust to live to the next day. She wanted – no she needed – to be united with Andreas in matrimony. Now, their love couldn’t be destroyed, not even by death.

  Mrs. Ursula Hermann.

  Her new name evoked a small smile. Andreas wasn’t here with her, but his name was. It strengthened their bond and showed to everyone she was his. She would be a respectable soldier’s wife. At the age of twenty-two, it was high time for her if she didn’t want to end up an old spinster. Of course, their marriage also had some more practical aspects. It had been Andreas’ idea, and she’d first opposed it. He’d wanted to ensure she’d be taken care of should the worst happen. In case of his demise, she’d be secured and receive a widow’s pension.

  A longing tugged at her heart as her mind wandered to her secret reason for the wedding. She wanted to be prepared for the time Andreas got leave. Mutter would never allow her unwed daughter to spend time alone with a man. But now, she couldn’t deny Ursula’s husband the right to share the bed with his wife.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she hoped nobody would be able to read her mind. A baby. That’s what she wanted. It would give her an excuse to leave her dreadful job.

  “What do you want?” Anna’s voice cut through her romantic ideas.

  “Me?” Ursula looked up, confused. With her thoughts so far away, she hadn’t noticed that they’d entered the bakery, and she was standing in front of the counter staring at the sweet delicacies. Compared to pre-war times, it was a miserable display, but still, her heart jumped at the unfamiliar sight of sugary sweets.

  “Hmm.” She inhaled the scent of baked pastries, her eyes raking from one piece to the next. Andreas loved Sahnetorte, cake made of different layers of custard and cream. Ursula licked her lips and remembered a scene before he was drafted off to war. He had covered his finger with whipped cream and spread it on her nose. Then he’d kissed it off.

  But there was no Sahnetorte in the display.

  “I’ll take a Pfannkuchen,” she said and sat at one of the tables while Anna organized everything. Minutes later, Anna and the baker’s wife brought six cups of steaming Ersatzkaffee and six plates with sweets.

  Ursula bit into her deep-fried bun, covered with a whiff of powdered sugar and filled with delicious strawberry jam.

  After several minutes filled with careless chatter, Ursula glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m sorry I have to leave for work.” Both she and Anna had received half a day’s leave for her wedding.

  “Me too. Let’s walk together to the tram,” Anna said and kissed her mother on the cheek before she bid her goodbyes to Andreas’ mother and the neighbor.

  “See you tonight, Mutter.” Ursula leaned over, and much to her surprise, her mother squeezed her hands tight.

  “I’m sorry, my darling. Once the war is over, you’ll get a proper wedding. Church, groom, gown, and everything,” Mutter said with a slight tremble in her voice. It was one of the rare occasions her mother showed emotion, and it filled Ursula’s heart with – with what? Comfort? Despair?

  “Are you happy?” Anna asked as they linked arms and left the bakery to catch the tram.

  “I am. Somewhat. But who can be truly happy with this war going on?”

  Anna nodded and sighed. “It will all get better. One day. We have us. And our work to keep us from overthinking.”

  “At least you like your job. But my soul-destroying work as a prison guard? I wish I could resign.”

  “You can resign and ask the authorities to put you to another task,” Anna reminded her.

  “If the Führer believes this work is where I serve my country best, then who am I to argue?”

  Anna rolled her eyes. They’d had this discussion countless times. Anna had fought tooth and nail to go to university and study human biology. Becoming a scientist was unheard of for a girl. Inappropriate, Mutter had said. You will never find a husband, she’d added. And Vater had nodded.

  Ursula giggled at the memory. In the end, Anna had relented and opted for training as a registered nurse. Mutter and Vater had sighed with relief upon their daughter’s change of mind. Only Ursula knew that the nurse training was part of her sister’s larger plan to become financially independent and enroll in university without her parent’s consent after the war.

  In contrast to Anna, Ursula never fought. She prided herself in accepting her fate with grace. She did what was expected of her. Like any good daughter and woman, she obeyed her parents and her government. Soon, she would obey her husband. That was just the way life was.

  The authorities had determined that her part of the home effort was to be a prison guard. Whether she liked it or not wasn’t important. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good. And as much as her stomach clenched every time she entered that dreadful place, she would bear it with fortitude.

  Until she was expecting. Then she would have a valid reason to resign. Then she would become a proud and happy mother.

  “See you tonight.” Ursula kissed her sister on the cheek as each one caught a tram going in opposite directions.

  She leaned her head against the window and glanced outside. They passed rubble and destruction on the way to her prison. The awfulness of war couldn’t be escaped. The Nazi regime had done so much good for Germany and the Germans over the years, the war was a minor sacrifice on the way to greatness.

  In her childhood, before the new Führer, the streets of Berlin were a constant gray, people blurring into the buildings. Money became little more than a rumor, and faces showed nothing but sorrow. As time went on, the Führer lifted Germany out of its despair. The streets sprung to life, as though a sudden explosion of color ha
d painted the world in roses. Of course, this prosperity was now tainted with conflict. But Goebbels never forgot to mention in his speeches that this was only temporary. Great things awaited those who were worthy.

  Ursula wanted to be worthy.

  Chapter 2

  “I’m home!” Ursula called over her shoulder as she arrived at the apartment after her shift. The radio blared in her mother’s empty room.

  “…an English bomb squadron entering German airspace. The predicted route is Gardelegen…”

  Ursula sighed as she closed the door and glanced at the two suitcases in the hallway. One of them contained documents, ration cards, and clothing for the three women, while the other one was stuffed with bottles of water and non-perishable food. They might have to use them tonight – again. When the radio mentioned the city of Gardelegen, the bombers were almost always destined to Berlin.

  The voices of Mutter and her sisters drew her to the kitchen.

  “It’s awful,” she heard Anna’s distinct low voice say, “and ironic, don’t you think?”

  Lotte cut in impatiently, “It’s not awful, it’s stupid! What are they gaining? Dead is dead, it’s just sadistic to be determined to do it yourself. I think–”

  Ursula swung open the door and interrupted the conversation, “What has happened? What’s awful?”

  Anna slid Lotte a look that said Shut up, this is my territory. Ursula couldn’t help but smile. Her two sisters were both strongly opinionated, willing to go against anyone and anything in their way. They’d butted heads more often than she cared to remember, and as the oldest one, it had always been her task to mediate between them.

  Some things never changed. Not even living in the countryside with their Aunt Lydia for the past two years, far away from Berlin and the dangers of war, had managed to soften Lotte’s hot-blooded outbursts.

  “We are talking about one of my patients in the Moabit prison hospital,” Anna explained. “He was convicted of treason, a spy or something, and has been sentenced to death.”