Ursula cast her a smile and dashed away. At least Frau Weber wouldn’t be accosting her a second time today. After completing her errands, Ursula walked aimlessly through the streets of Berlin until it was time to return home and get ready for work.
“Hello,” a deep voice came from nowhere.
Its distinct accent made her heart race. Surely not… She swung around searching for the source of the voice. There was no one to be seen. Had she finally cracked under the pressure and lost her mind?
“Down here,” it said again.
This time, Ursula located where the voice had come from and peered over the low bushes at the side of the road. Lying on the ground, clutching his leg, was the prisoner she’d let escape this morning.
Ursula’s hand flew to her mouth, covering the gasp that escaped her. How has he found me? Rage boiled up in her. More to the point, why did he have to find me? Every second she stayed near him increased her chances of being caught and condemned as a traitor. He must know that.
But as she looked down at him, her heart softened. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t resist. Vulnerability. Honesty. She swallowed and took a closer look at his injury. His prison uniform had a long cut on the upper thigh, exposing an ugly wound with a thick crust of dried blood. If she left, he was certain to be caught again and be killed.
His expression was slightly crazed, as though in a delirium and fever, but he stared firmly at her with pleading eyes. Why does he trust me? Just because I was weak and saved him once doesn’t mean I’ll do it again. In fact, I won’t.
Ursula’s mind screamed at her to run as fast as she could. But something about this man captivated her. No matter how much her mind commanded to escape, her body remained where it was.
“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” she whispered, trying to look natural as she bent low over the bushes.
“Ein bißchen.”
With a deep sigh, Ursula looked down at the man. “Follow me. You understand?”
He nodded and wobbled onto his feet.
“Here – take my coat to cover your uniform.”
The escaped prisoner took Ursula’s jacket and hung it over his large frame.
“Do not talk to me and hide behind the trees whenever someone approaches,” she instructed him, looking up and down the street. Thankfully, dusk was settling over the city, but it wasn’t completely dark yet.
Ursula walked to her apartment building, never looking back, unable to control the shivers of fear racking her body. She walked slowly, perking her ears for his limping step behind. Twice, they encountered a passerby, and Ursula prayed that the other person didn’t notice the legs of the man’s uniform sticking out from under the bottom of her coat.
When they finally reached her building, Ursula opened the door for him to stumble inside. Judging by the pained expression on his pale, sweaty face, he was close to passing out from the physical strain.
“How are you holding up?” she asked him.
“Just grand.” He gave her a crooked grin, but it never reached his eyes.
“I live on the third floor.”
The grin transformed into plain shock. “Not sure if I can make it.”
No, he wouldn’t be able to make it. Ursula cast caution overboard and wrapped her arm around his trim waist to drag him up the stairs.
“Thank you,” he murmured, clearly embarrassed that he needed assistance.
They reached the third floor after what seemed like an eternity, and Ursula’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She scrambled to unlock the door and shoved him inside. The moment she closed the door behind them, she heard heavy steps coming up the stairs and frantically peeked through the peephole. It was Frau Weber, heavily burdened with two shopping bags.
Chapter 9
“Shush. We can’t risk anyone hearing you,” she whispered as the soldier leaned against the wall and groaned. Her strict voice reminded her eerily of Mutter.
Ursula took her coat off him and helped him to hobble into her room and sit down on her bed.
“I’ll have to clean your wound,” she said and disappeared to get a wet rag. Although she was scared, a strange nervous excitement was taking over.
When she came back into the room, he’d taken off his prison trousers, and she gasped at the sight of his bare legs in nothing but his underwear.
“Sorry.” He used the dirty trousers to cover up his midriff and cast her a weak but crooked grin. “Thanks again.”
She didn’t respond and bit her lip in an effort to concentrate on the task at hand. There was a good reason that she, unlike her sister, had not chosen to become a nurse. One glance at his gaping wound and her head whirled with dizziness. She squinted her eyes to see as little gory skin as possible and puffed out ragged breaths as she cleaned the wound.
Her stomach revolted, and she had to look aside for a moment before she could continue. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I wish Anna were here, or Mutter... The thought of her mother was enough to send the blood rushing back into her head. If Mutter were here, she’d have more serious problems than fighting her discomfort at seeing gore.
“What’s your name?” she asked to stir up a conversation and distract herself. She already knew his name, but what else could she ask an injured enemy prisoner on the run? Nice to meet you, thanks for bombing my country by the way.
“Captain Tom Westlake,” he answered, wincing as the rag touched his leg again.
“Ursula Hermann,” she said without looking at him. She pressed her lips together and forced herself to finish cleaning the wound.
“Thank you, Frau Hermann. I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have come to you, but I had nowhere else to go…” he said in surprisingly fluent German.
His eyes conveyed so much misery that she almost forgave him for getting her into this dangerous situation. He was just a man. A fellow human. Apart from the fact that he was born in another country and spoke another language, he was exactly like her. All he wanted was to stay alive. Like anyone around here. Feelings of grief overwhelmed her and tears shot into her eyes as she thought about Andreas, the husband she lost. Captain Westlake’s loved ones shouldn’t suffer the same heartbreak. Not if she could prevent it.
“Shush. Don’t talk,” she said and covered him with a blanket. His face had taken on a sickly greenish sheen, and he looked even more vulnerable now as he leaned against the white linen.
“I’ll bring you water and something to eat. Then I have to go to work. You must not leave this room or make any noise. It is vital that nobody suspects you’re here. Do you understand, Captain Westlake?”
He nodded weakly, and by the time she returned with a glass of water and some buns with ham and cheese, he’d already drifted off to sleep. Ursula left the provisions on the nightstand and tiptoed out of the room.
***
Ursula arrived at the prison and went through her chores like a machine. The inmates were tense and talked in hushed whispers about the events of the night before. Normally, Ursula would have tried to ease the tension with a smile or a friendly word. But every time someone mentioned the four men who had escaped, she flinched. Guilt and remorse settled deep in her bones, and her logical brain tried to figure out why she’d helped Captain Westlake. He was the enemy – responsible for killing thousands of her compatriots.
“Frau Hermann, a word, please?”
Ursula jumped at the voice of her superior. They found out. I’m as good as dead.
“Yes…Frau Schneider?” Ursula turned around and looked into the piercing eyes of her superior.
“I have observed you for a while now, and you are unusually agitated. Is something wrong?”
Ursula shook her head. “No.”
“Is it because of the escaped prisoners?” Frau Schneider insisted.
God, yes. How does she know? “They haven’t been found, have they?” Ursula managed to press out.
“I’m afraid not. Don’t worry. Nobody will hold you responsible. It’s the fault of those bloo
dy Englishmen.”
Ursula let out a breath. “Danke, Frau Schneider. It’s just…last night, the destruction of the building, the escaped inmates, it’s been a lot to handle. But…” she faked a confident smile, “I’ll be fine. I just need a day or two.”
“We are all high-strung with this awful war,” Frau Schneider nodded and left.
“Frau Hermann, do you have a moment?” one of the women called after her.
“Yes?” Ursula walked over to her cell. Due to the destruction in the other part of the building, they had crammed six to ten prisoners in a cell that normally held two or three at most.
“My family must be frantic with sorrow. Could you post this for me so they know I’m safe?”
Ursula looked around to make sure nobody saw her, even though basically all of the guards smuggled things in and out of prison, even Frau Schneider. But appearances had to be kept up, and it was better not to be seen.
“Of course,” she answered and took the letter and stamps the woman handed to her.
Then she continued her rounds and distributed parcels that had arrived from relatives for the prisoners. The prison administration welcomed those parcels, because without food from the outside, inmates would starve to death on the meager rations.
Today, it took much longer than usual, because most of the inmates had been relocated to different cells. But Ursula was grateful for the chaotic circumstances because it occupied her mind enough that she didn’t think about the Englishman in her home.
At the end of a tiring night shift, she returned home with one single wish: to drop on her bed and sleep twelve hours straight. But a snoring noise reminded her of the fact that a handsome airman was sleeping in her room. She snuck inside to bring him fresh water and dried his sweaty forehead with a towel.
She wasn’t sure whether he noticed or not because, although he gulped down the water, he didn’t look at her and uttered unintelligible words in a language she assumed to be English. After another glance at his pained face, she decided to sleep in the second bedroom that was now Anna’s. As soon as she climbed into the huge bed that belonged to Mutter and Vater, Ursula drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.
“Ursula, what are you doing in here?” someone shouted into her ear while shaking her shoulders.
“Let me sleep…” she murmured, rubbing her eyes groggily.
“Why are you sleeping in my bed?” the voice insisted.
Anna! It all came rushing back to her, and she sat up in bed, wide-awake.
“Don’t be angry...” Ursula said and patted the place beside her.
Anna rolled her eyes but obeyed. “That’s supposed to be my line. And it makes me worry that you’re using it. What have you been up to?”
“Nothing. Please listen first and scold me later.”
The frown on Anna’s forehead intensified, but she nodded.
“Our prison was badly damaged during the air raid the night before, and four prisoners escaped.”
“Go on...”
“Well... one of them is currently sleeping in my room–”
“What?” Anna all but shouted and leapt to her feet. “Are you out of your mind? There’s an escaped prisoner in our home?”
“Shush…someone could hear you.” Ursula tried to pacify her sister, but her interjection only served to agitate Anna more.
“That’s insane. Dangerous. Suicidal even. Do I have to remind you what happens to people hiding criminals? You of all people should know!”
Of course Ursula knew. She witnessed it on a daily basis at work.
“I do,” she murmured, fear prohibiting her from speaking loudly. “But…he was so vulnerable…I can’t really explain it. I thought about Andreas and my horrible grief. Captain Westlake is just a man. A human being like you and me. And he’s sick. I had to help him, couldn’t close my eyes and let him be murdered. I just couldn’t…” Her voice broke, and she gave her sister a glance, pleading for understanding.
“Captain Westlake?” Anna squinted her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line. “His name is Westlake? And he’s what? A soldier? Don’t tell me he’s an Englishman!”
Ursula buried her head in her hands, unable to look her sister into the eyes. “In fact, he is.”
“You’ve brought the enemy into our home? One of those damned murderers? The same ones who drop their bombs on our city nearly every night?” Anna stopped pacing and stared at her sister with disbelief in her eyes. “Please tell me this is just a bad joke…”
“It’s not. And I know everything you said. Don’t you think I’ve told myself the same things?”
“He has to leave.” Anna crossed her arms over her chest.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but he’s badly injured and has a fever. I have no idea how to take care of him…but you do. You’re a nurse.” Ursula pleaded.
Anna stood motionless, staring down at her, but Ursula knew she’d got her sister thinking.
“Please.”
“No way. He can rot in hell for all I’m concerned. He’s the enemy. I’m not helping the enemy.”
“You patch up patients on a daily basis so the Gestapo can torture them some more. Isn’t it about time you actually helped someone with your nursing skills instead of setting them up for more suffering?” Ursula knew she was being unfair, but she needed her sister’s help.
“That’s totally different,” Anna growled with a deadly stare.
“Ah, and how is this different? Haven’t you pledged to help all patients?”
“Don’t roll out the old chestnut of professional ethics,” Anna answered, but she at least uncrossed her arms and took a step toward her sister.
“You and Lotte always told me to stand up for my beliefs. And you know what? You’re right. It’s about time we did something morally right.” Ursula rose to her feet and put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Please, Anna, I need your help.”
“Fine. I’ll have a look at him, but he disappears the moment his fever breaks,” Anna said with a scowl before leaving the room to check up on her new patient. Ursula followed her to the bedroom next door.
Captain Westlake was awake but in bad shape. He tried to conceal it with grin but failed miserably. Ursula leaned against the doorframe watching her sister attend the patient. Despite Anna’s cheerful smile, she noticed the underlying worry. She just wasn’t sure whether her sister was worrying about the health of their patient or their safety.
“This has to be stitched, Captain,” she said after inspecting his wound and then turned to her sister. “Ursula, can you please fetch my bag?”
A very pale man flinched despite his attempt to put on a brave face.
Ursula hurried to the other room to bring her sister the bag where she kept first aid material.
“You don’t need me here, do you?” she asked in a low voice.
Anna recalled her sister’s dislike for blood and grinned at her. “I guess not. I’d rather have only one patient.”
“Thanks,” Ursula said and grabbed the prisoner’s dirty trousers to wash and mend them. He’d need something to wear when he left the bed. Just the thought of seeing him in nothing but his underpants again caused a peculiar feeling in her stomach. His legs were emaciated but still hinted at the strong muscles he must have possessed before being arrested. According to his file, he’d been captured more than six months ago and had spent quite a lot of time in the Gestapo’s custody.
Ursula willed herself not to think about the things she’d heard and seen. Prisoners transferred from Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse rarely arrived in good shape.
Just as she was about to finish, Anna came out of the bedroom. “All done. He was quite brave, your Englishman.”
“He isn’t my Englishman,” Ursula protested.
“Whatever you say. He barely winced when I had to stitch him up. I also made him calf packings against the fever and gave him Mutter’s valerian drops to sleep. By the way, he said he’s hungry, which is a good sign.”
“Thank you,
Anna. I’ll bring him some food,” Ursula said.
“Thank me when he’s gone, and we’re safe again. I’m going to sleep now.”
Chapter 10
As Ursula arrived at the prison entrance, the gatekeeper, Herr Müller, instructed her to go straight to the main hall.
“Director’s orders,” he added.
“Danke, Herr Müller,” she said, a rush of fear seeping through her body. Surely, the director could not know what she had done? Ursula crept toward the hall, dragging every step as long as possible, certain her ultimate demise was awaiting her.
But as she reached the hall, it was already filled with all prison guards on duty. A wave of relief washed over her. A few minutes later, the prison director entered the room and the murmurs stopped.
“Dear ladies and gentlemen, you may be wondering why I have summoned everyone today. I’m afraid it’s not good news.” The director looked from person to person.
Ursula seemed to notice an unusual tiredness in his voice. Certainly, the past days had taken a toll on him too. He’d always struck her as an upright man, and somehow, he’d managed to make Plötzensee a friendly place – compared to the other prisons she’d worked in.
“We have received a message from our Führer,” the director continued in his booming voice, “While he is not laying blame on us for the escape of four prisoners due to the destruction caused by enemy shells, he is less than pleased with the slow progress in dealing with clemency appeals. The ministry of justice is now intent on speeding up executions. All clemency appeals will be decided upon within the next few days.” The director paused, and the expression on his face didn’t leave any doubt about the expected outcome.
“As most of you know, the execution chamber and the guillotine were severely damaged during the fire, meaning an alternative solution must be found. I will keep you informed. And…” the director paused and let his eyes wander, “I don’t have to tell you how important it is not to let the prisoners know. The situation is bad enough as it is, we don’t need the added tension. Heil Hitler!”
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