War Girl Ursula
Page 7
Everyone in the audience raised his right arm in salute, before turning to each other, anxious about what was to come.
Ursula noticed Pfarrer Bernau standing near the door with a solemn face.
“Good morning, Father,” she greeted him.
“Good morning, my child,” he said with a sigh. The announcement had clearly shaken him.
“I wish there was a way to help. This feels so wrong,” Ursula murmured more to herself.
“Unfortunately, there is no way to help the poor souls in here. All we can do is extend our hand and help those still in freedom.” Pfarrer Bernau looked intensely into her eyes, “It is our responsibility to help those who are innocent.”
Did he actually ask me to resist the authorities? Surely not. But then Ursula remembered the discussion of two inmates about the priest’s political opinions.
Ursula went through her shift pondering the meaning of Pfarrer Bernau’s words and whether she’d done the right thing by rescuing Tom. In the light of the new developments, he would have been dead within a few days.
The responsibility lay heavy on her shoulders.
After her shift, she returned home and bumped into Frau Weber.
“Good evening Ursula,” her neighbor greeted her as she slipped out her front door.
“Good evening, Frau Weber.” Ursula groaned inwardly. What does she want now?
“Is your father on home leave?”
Ursula grabbed her handbag tighter as she tried to keep her face carefully neutral. “No, Frau Weber, unfortunately not. We haven’t heard from him in a while.”
“I could have sworn I heard a male voice in your apartment,” the neighbor insisted.
“A man? In our place? You must have been mistaken, Frau Weber. We are honorable women.” She shot her neighbor an indignant look and unlocked the door with trembling hands. That woman will be the death of me. She made a mental note to warn Captain Westlake to be even more careful and make no noise when he was alone in the apartment.
She peeked her head inside his room and watched him sleep. He’d turned and tossed last night, speaking in his delirium, but he now looked calm and peaceful. His face hadn’t lost its boyish charm and his wicked smile…
Stop it.
Ursula turned on her heels and busied herself making dinner, raiding the pantry and switching on the gas stove. Then she dropped a glob of margarine into a hot cast-iron skillet. It danced inside the skillet, sizzling and sputtering as it melted while she sliced cooked potatoes from the day before. As they roasted and turned golden-brown, a delicious aroma filled the kitchen. She added pieces of ham – courtesy of Aunt Lydia – and Mutter’s special seasoning to make Bratkartoffeln.
Several minutes later, she piled a big portion onto a plate and with a tray of food entered the bedroom currently occupied by Captain Westlake. He blinked and sniffed. When his eyes opened, he greeted her with a genuine smile.
“Good evening, how are you feeling?” she asked with a shy smile.
“Much better. Your sister is a truly excellent nurse. My fever broke.” He grinned at her. When she didn’t respond, he added, “I will never be able to thank both of you enough for what you’ve done.”
An awkward silence ensued. His English accent reminded her that he was the enemy in this awful war. Helping the enemy was punished draconically. But on the other hand, his charming grin warmed her heart.
“Is that food for me?” he broke the silence, licking his full lips.
“I made Bratkartoffeln, fried potatoes with ham. Are you hungry, Captain?”
“Like a wolf. That smells grand.” Tom winced as he moved to sit upright.
“Wait, I’ll help you.” Ursula put the tray on the nightstand and stuffed another pillow behind his back. When she touched his shoulders, a confusing tingle ran through her body. He caught her hand, and his green eyes shimmered softly as he said, “Please sit with me, Frau Hermann, and we can talk.”
Ursula nodded and sat on the edge of his bed, carefully avoiding touching him again as she handed him the tray with food.
“About that…you need to be more careful.” She clasped her hands, not daring to look at him while he wolfed down the food. “My neighbor said she heard noises in here and a male voice.”
His eyes widened, and he immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause you trouble. I’ll leave tonight.”
Ursula turned her head to look at him. A wave of sorrow almost broke her heart. “No, you can’t. With your injured leg and your prison uniform, you wouldn’t get far.”
“But here, I’m a potential problem for you and your sister,” he insisted.
Ursula buried her head in her hands. “I know…but…I can’t be responsible for your death. In the prison…” tears started rolling down her cheeks, and her breathing became forced, “…they…all…it’s so awful…”
“Shush.” She felt Captain Westlake’s hand on her shoulder as his deep voice tried to calm her down. “Everything will be fine–”
“Nothing will be fine!” She jumped up, only to fall back on the bed again, pressing her hands over her mouth. Then she took several breaths and whispered, “Hitler has complained about the slow process of the clemency appeals. They’ll kill everyone with a death sentence within the next days.”
He visibly tensed at her words. “I wish I could turn time back and somehow prevent this awful war from ever happening.”
“That would be nice.” Despite her agitation, Ursula had to smile. It was ridiculous, but somehow his presence gave her a feeling of safety – and boldness. The woman who’d never broken a rule in her life suddenly had the urge to prove to the world how strong she really was.
He emptied his plate and gulped down a glass of water. “That was the best food I’ve had in months. Any chance I’m already dead, and you’re in fact an angel, Frau Hermann?”
Ursula giggled. “No. You are still very much alive, Captain Westlake, and I’m no angel either.” She flushed bright red at the unintended double meaning and spluttered out more words. “Please, everyone calls me Ursula.”
“Ursula it is, then.” His lips twitched, and he cast her a wicked grin, “I guess it would only be fair if you called me Tom. After all, you’ve already seen me in my underwear.” Judging by the twinkle in his eyes, he thoroughly enjoyed her embarrassment.
“Captain Westlake – I mean Tom.” Ursula paused, not sure how to continue. “May I ask you a question?”
“Sure. That’s why you’re sitting here with me, to talk.” His grin broadened.
“I, uh, read your file, the night you escaped. All the guards had to…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish.
“And now you want to know if I really am a spy?”
Heat rushed to Ursula’s cheeks, no doubt coloring them a deep purple.
Tom, though, laughed out loud. “Gosh, with an accent like mine, Hitler would have to be barmy not to have shot me on the spot.” He sobered and gave the abashed Ursula a reassuring look. “I am not a spy. I cannot, however, deny being British.”
Ursula pushed her blonde waves behind her ears, not sure whether his confession was good or bad. What difference did it make if he was a spy or a simple airman? Wasn’t it even worse if he’d been amongst those dreaded pilots dropping bombs on her country? Her head was starting to hurt with all those contradictory thoughts.
“So, what happened? How did you end up with a death sentence in Plötzensee?” she asked curiously.
“I’m a member of the RAF, the British air force. I was flying a mission over Germany when my aircraft was shot down. I managed to bail out but was caught by the police.”
An icy hand grabbed at Ursula’s heart. How many times had she cheered when anti-aircraft flak had hit an enemy aircraft and sent it tailspinning to the ground? She’d never thought of the crew as human beings. Men like Tom. Young men with their entire lives in front of them. With hopes and dreams. With family and friends that would have to mourn them. Like Andreas.
“War makes murderers out of otherwise decent people,” she murmured more to herself than to Tom, but judging by the pained expression on his face, he’d done his share of things he wasn’t proud of.
“You’re right. War is an ugly affair. You should probably hate me instead of helping me. But know this… I will be forever indebted to you, for you have saved my life…” His voice trailed off as he locked eyes with her, and she could see the same confusion in them that whirled in her head.
His words had caused an oddly intimate setting for two strangers, and Ursula scrambled up and said her goodbyes to him, her face still burning red.
She had barely closed the door to the bedroom when Anna appeared like a ghost, and Ursula jumped.
“You scared me,” she breathed.
“Sorry. How is he?” Anna asked with a nod to the closed door.
“Much better. He offered to leave tonight, but I told him to rest and recover at least another day,” Ursula replied.
“He can’t stay here, Ursula. It’s not safe. Not for him and not for us. The sooner he leaves, the better.”
Ursula wrung her hands, knowing her sister spoke the truth. “I know we can’t hide him here. Frau Weber is already suspicious. He needs to leave not only this building but the country.” Ursula sighed. She had no idea about this kind of thing, but she’d never heard about an enemy airman sentenced to death for espionage strolling across the border into safety.
Anna wrapped her arms around her sister. “Sleep on it. We’ll think of something tomorrow. I have to leave for night shift.”
“Take care,” Ursula called after her sister before she went to bed.
Chapter 11
The next morning, Ursula felt like she’d been run over by a truck. Images of executions had invaded her dreams. She left the building in the wee hours of the morning, after warning Tom once again to be absolutely silent when neither she nor Anna were at home. Thankfully, Frau Weber from next door was still asleep, and Ursula reached the street without further inquisition.
At the prison, life – or rather death – had run its course. Ursula found a vastly decreased lot of distraught prisoners trying to forget the terrible things that had happened during the night. She looked into exhausted faces filled with horror, grief, or apathy.
Even her colleagues from the night shift stood on wobbly legs and hurried to change into their civilian clothes as if this would separate them from their haunting memories. The silence, interrupted only by involuntary groans and hushed whispers, was disturbing. Nobody was able to look another person in the eye as they struggled to get away from the eerie shadows looming over Plötzensee.
Ursula didn’t dare ask.
It wasn’t until she saw Pfarrer Bernau that she grasped the enormity of what had occurred. The warm shine in the priest’s eyes had dimmed, and the corners of his mouth drooped as he approached her with slumped shoulders.
“The mass executions have started,” he sighed. The utter desolation in his eyes sent shudders down Ursula’s spine.
“Oh God. Here? How?” Ursula couldn’t wrap her head around the priest’s words. She didn’t actually want to know, had preferred to stay blessedly oblivious, but the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could prevent it.
“It was awful. All the prisoners were gathered in the courtyard. Throughout the night, row after row of men were called into the execution chamber in groups of eight…to be hanged.”
“Hanged?” Ursula’s hand flew to her throat. Hanging was slow and painful. It was a death method from the Middle Ages, used to draw shame upon the death candidate and his family.
“Yes, they couldn’t repair the guillotine in time and opted for hanging as the method of choice. My colleague and I had our hands full and couldn’t do more than utter a short prayer for each of the poor souls. May God forgive mankind.” Pfarrer Bernau swayed and looked at her through bloodshot eyes. “One hundred eighty-six prisoners were killed last night. And it will continue tonight.”
Dizziness attacked her, and Ursula steadied herself by leaning against the wall. There was nothing she could say or do, only wonder at the atrocities this war held in store for everyone.
The priest turned to leave without another word, and Ursula staggered to the women’s wing. She did her rounds in silence, most of the prisoners sleeping through the day after standing at attention all night.
An eerie tension had settled over Plötzensee. Ursula wished her shift were over so she could flee this place, but at the same time, she wished it would never end – because, at the beginning of the night, the killing would start again.
On her last round of the day, she distributed the comparatively abundant rations to the remaining prisoners, unable to show her usual smile. But who would care for a smile on a day like this?
The last cell on the floor belonged to two women whose husbands had been convicted as traitors. As she approached it, she overheard them talking.
“Can you believe it? He’s been doing this since before the war.”
“I always knew that there was more to Pfarrer Bernau. He’s a remarkable man.”
Ursula perked up her ears.
“It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Right under the Nazi’s noses, he’s been hiding Jews and smuggling them out of the country.”
“I wish he could smuggle us out of this hellish place too.”
“Don’t be silly. This is one of the best-secured prisons, there’s no way we could get out.”
“Well, four prisoners got out.”
“Certainly, but they’ll find them soon enough. Nobody hides in Berlin without help. And who would help our enemies?”
Ursula stopped breathing. Her head whirled. Pfarrer Bernau was hiding Jews? What if…no…or maybe? A million thoughts raced through her head, and her excitement grew by the minute.
She finished her shift, changed into civilian clothes, then took the tram to the hospital where Anna was working.
Ursula hated hospitals. The distinctive smell always gave her the shivers. But in her haste to tell Anna about her epiphany, she didn’t notice. She sprinted through the building to her sister’s ward, drawing the disapproving glances of more than one nurse. She stopped at the glass door and waved wildly at her very surprised sister.
“What on earth are you doing here? Has something happened with…?” Anna asked in a hushed voice.
“I found the solution!” Ursula exclaimed, drawing more attention to them.
“Wait right here,” Anna demanded and left to talk to her superior. When she returned, she said, “I’ve got five minutes. Come.” She led her sister into a break room and closed the door. “Now spill it. But keep your voice down.”
“I know how we can save Tom. The priest at the prison...” Ursula paused, looking nervously around, and lowering her voice to barely a whisper, “he has been helping Jews escape for years.”
“Are you serious?” Despite Anna’s attempt to keep her voice down, it seemed to echo off the walls of the tiny room.
“Pretty much, yes.”
“But who says that this priest will help us? After all, your Englishman is not a Jew. He’s the enemy.” Anna wrinkled her forehead.
“It’s worth a shot. In fact, it may be the only chance to get him out of the country,” Ursula whispered.
“Then ask him.” Anna embraced her sister, and for a short moment, Ursula was certain everything would turn out fine.
“I will. See you tonight.”
The two sisters left the break room, and Anna accompanied her to the entrance door of the hospital.
“I love you.” Ursula kissed her sister on the cheek. “And I’ll never forget what you did.”
“You just be careful, all right?�
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Ursula nodded and felt a flush rising in her cheeks under the scrutiny of her younger sister. She knew what Anna was thinking. She was worried herself. Tom had begun dominating her thoughts, and what she was feeling was much more than worry or compassion. His black humor made her laugh. His presence gave her a feeling of safety. His charming smile turned her insides to mush. And the joyful tone of his voice when he was teasing her sent heat to places it should not.
It was mutual too – the way he looked at her when he thought she didn’t notice – the cheerful expression on his face every time she returned home.
“I’m not blind, you know.” Anna said.
“What are you talking about?” Ursula hedged.
“You like him. The Englishman.”
“What? No, I...”
“It is pointless to deny it, sister. A part of me even understands. He’s handsome, good-mannered, and makes you laugh. You haven’t had much to laugh about this year. But he’s still the enemy. There’s no future for the two of you. He will never be safe in this country, and you won’t be welcome in his.”
“But Anna–”
“No buts, you have to be reasonable.” Anna gave a short laugh, “Can you believe it’s me telling you this? All our lives it was the other way around.” Anna wrapped her arms around her sister. “I’m just worried about you. Promise you won’t get attached to him?”
“I promise.” It was a lie. She already liked Tom a lot more than was good for anyone involved.
Chapter 12
The next day, Ursula went to visit Pfarrer Bernau in his parish. She was still pondering her conversation with Anna from the day before. As much as she wanted to convince herself that Anna’s warnings were pulled out of thin air, she knew better. Her – totally inappropriate – feelings for Tom were growing, which put her in an awkward position. Not only because he was an escaped prisoner, but also because of her sense of duty towards Andreas, who hadn’t been gone for more than three months. She was betraying so many people in such a variety of ways, all for the attraction she felt for him.