War Girl Ursula

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War Girl Ursula Page 12

by Marion Kummerow


  “I suppose it’s better than keeping him in the allotment. My mother returned home, and smuggling provisions out of the house has become nearly impossible.” Ursula curled a blonde strand around her finger.

  “He will be fine as long as he sticks to the plan and speaks up only when asked.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, “Now, my child, are you ready to do this?”

  No. “Yes,” she answered with a trembling voice.

  “Then hide these papers beneath your coat and go give our patient the good news.”

  Ursula nodded and left the priest’s quarters. On her way to the allotment garden complex, the false papers burnt a hole into her skin where she’d stored the carefully folded sheets in her brassiere. The anxiety hurried her steps, and she reminded herself to keep an upright posture and a confident smile whenever she met a passer-by. She feared they were able to stare right through her layers of clothing and detect the hidden evidence. False papers. That alone was enough to sentence her to death.

  Breathless, she arrived at the allotment just before dusk and found Tom tending to his injured thigh. The wound was healing well, and the black knots of Anna’s stitches sat enthroned over pink skin.

  A flush heated her cheeks at the sight of him in nothing but his underpants and a white cotton undershirt that showcased his broad shoulders and trim waist. Ursula quickly closed her eyes and only opened them at the sound of his chuckle.

  “I’m not that ugly, am I?” Tom joked, amused by her embarrassment. He might have plenty of experience charming young women into his arms and bed, but Ursula wasn’t used to seeing men in their underwear.

  “No…I…can you get yourself modest again?” she stammered.

  “By all means. My clothes should be dry by now. I washed them last night.” He walked over to where he’d hung them over the window frame, and she couldn’t help but notice the play of the muscles in his back. It was better for everyone if he left the next day.

  They decided it would be best to meet where the path to the allotments branched off the main street. Then he would follow a few steps behind her until she handed him over to the woman posing as his nurse. The nurse would wear a Finnish flag pin on her lapel as an identifying feature.

  The next morning, Ursula left her home with a pounding heart, perspiring cold sweat. Instead of walking the distance, she took the tram to work, got off after three stops and then took a bus, bringing her within a few hundred yards of their meeting place. She spotted Tom from far away as he walked out behind the hedges flanking the entrance to the allotments.

  Without thinking, she raised her hand to wave at him, but caught herself and ran it through her hair instead. The plan was not to show that they knew each other. Pfarrer Bernau had insisted it was less risky. If he raised suspicions, she would still be able to walk away unscathed.

  Despite the precautions, her anxiety intensified with every minute and the seemingly easy task to show him to the meeting point at Bahnhof Zoo grew into an insurmountable challenge. They reached their destination, and Ursula spotted the disguised nurse as she stepped away from the ticket counter, holding the train tickets in her hand.

  Tom had caught up to Ursula in the multitude of people milling about, and she whispered, “See that woman over there? She must be the one.”

  “Yes, I can see a Finnish flag pin on her lapel. Goodbye and thanks for everything.”

  Ursula couldn’t resist and squeezed his hand for a short moment before she let him go. In that same moment, the nurse spotted them and gave a barely visible nod. She still had a few steps to go until she reached the barrier where two uniformed men controlled papers and tickets.

  “Papers and ticket please,” a deep voice said.

  “Here,” the nurse answered with a smile and handed him her documents.

  As he returned them to her, his eyes came to rest upon the badge on her lapel, and he broke out into a smile. “Hyvää päivää. It’s rare to meet a Finn. My grandmother came from up there.”

  The nurse panicked and dropped everything on the spot, starting to run. But the policeman blew his whistle, and within seconds, the train station was infested with uniformed men.

  Ursula watched with growing horror as they zeroed in on the nurse, then caught her, screaming and kicking. One of the officers took out his baton and soon blow after blow hit her, until she lay on the floor, her agonizing screams echoing through the air.

  Ursula stood there, unable to move, oblivious to the danger to herself until she felt a strong tug on her hand, and she tumbled against Tom, who put an arm around her waist and dragged her away from the scene. She put one foot in front of the other, grateful for Tom’s steely grip that prevented her knees from giving out.

  “Smile!” he commanded, and Ursula obeyed. She cast a weak effigy of usual bright smile at the crowd as they left the ugly scene just before the SS was done beating the nurse and started to close all doors of the train station in search of the person to whom the second train ticket belonged.

  With every step away from the awful scene, Ursula’s legs regained strength, and her smile became less forced. Tom released her waist, and they walked side by side in silence to the next bus station.

  “I’ll tell Pfarrer Bernau. He’ll know what to do,” she murmured. “I have to go to work now. Will you be able to find your way back to the allotment if I drop you off at the bus station nearby?”

  “Certainly.”

  She believed him, but her mind still raced with worries. The fake nurse might give his cover name away, and they certainly could not return under this same ruse.

  When she gave a heavy sigh, Tom turned to look at her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through worse.”

  She handed him the key to the allotment and whispered, “It’s probably best if I don’t return to the garden. My mother is suspicious enough, and the less time we spend together or sneak around, the safer it is for both of us.”

  “I agree.” He looked straight ahead and they disembarked from the bus together.

  “Remember that huge rhododendron marking the entrance to the allotments? I’ll place a bag with food beneath it every day until we have another plan. You can sneak out at night to grab it.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded and strode away as if they were strangers who had never met.

  Chapter 20

  Ursula impatiently did her work, looking for an opportunity to speak with the priest. As noon arrived, she finally spotted him during leisure hour. It was less than ideal, but she had to tell him.

  Glancing at the prisoners and guards milling around, she approached him and said, “Guten Tag, Pfarrer Bernau, isn’t it an awful day today?”

  He didn’t seem surprised, perhaps he’d already received the horrible news. “I know, Frau Hermann, I know. But we must have faith in God. You are invited to join the Mass in our church and go to confession.”

  Ursula nodded, not sure what he wanted her to do.

  “So, I’ll see you on Sunday in church for confession?” he clarified.

  She nodded her understanding. “Yes, Father.”

  Sunday, that was three days from now. Hopefully by then, he’d have another plan to get Tom out of the country.

  That evening, Ursula passed by the entrance to the allotments hiding part of the groceries she’d bought with her ration cards. Things had just become more complicated.

  She decided to walk home and clear her head from the events of the day. The failure to get Tom on the train gnawed at her insides, as did the prospect of having to wait three days until she could visit the priest and find out what to do next.

  Ursula had always prided herself on taking everything life threw at her in stride, to accept with humility and compliance what was expected of her. Her current anxiety was a new experience, one that scared her but also secretly thrilled her.

  “Hello, Mutter, I already went shopping,” she called from the door.

  “Come in, darling,” her mother answered.

&
nbsp; Ursula stepped into the kitchen and almost dropped her shopping bag to the floor. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea with Frau Weber. As far back as Ursula remembered, her mother disliked the nosy neighbor as much as her daughters did.

  “Guten Abend, Frau Weber,” she said tight-lipped and busied herself unpacking the provisions she’d bought.

  “I was just telling your mother about when the burglar came,” Frau Weber said, “and how odd it was that they left without taking anything, don’t you think?”

  Before Ursula could stammer a defense, her mother took matters into her own hands.

  “We can only be grateful that nothing happened to my girls. The burglar must have been looking for something in particular and not found it, or realized he had been overheard,” Mutter said firmly.

  Frau Weber shook her head. “Hmm. I’m not so sure. There was something fishy about it.”

  “Frau Weber, I would appreciate you not accusing my children of improper behavior, particularly when you have no proof. Didn’t you say that the Gestapo didn’t find anything? I would guess it’s more likely that you imagined the scuffle.”

  The neighbor looked like she’d bitten into a lemon and got up without finishing her tea. “I better leave now, have a good night.”

  The second the door closed behind Frau Weber, Mutter turned to her daughter. “Now, Ursula. I know damned well that Frau Weber will not have imagined anything. She may be unbelievably nosy, but she is not losing touch. And I agree, it’s quite clear there was no burglar here. Explain yourself.”

  Her mother’s teacup was trembling in her hand, the china clinking against the saucer. Ursula shrank in size to a six-year-old being scolded. She couldn’t tell her mother the truth, but she struggled to lie. She fumbled around looking for a plausible explanation, the pause stretching out.

  “Ursula!” her mother insisted.

  “I’m sorry. It was nothing, really. A friend needed a place to stay for a night. We just wanted to help.” She pronounced the words carefully, intent on not flat-out lying, while not giving away her secret.

  Mutter cast a glance that clearly indicated she didn’t believe a single word, but at the sight of Ursula’s thinly pressed lips, she sighed. “Believe me, I would send you away to the countryside this very moment if I could. Since when are you as irresponsible as Lotte?”

  The door creaked, and Anna called out, “Hello, I’m home.”

  She came into the kitchen, and it took her only one look at their faces to know what was going on. She kissed both women on the cheeks and gave her sister a questioning look behind Mutter’s back.

  When they’d finished their dinner and washed the dishes, Mutter retreated into her room.

  “What was that about?” Anna whispered, concerned.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” Ursula suggested. They walked around the block, arms linked and eyes scanning for unwelcome listeners as Ursula recounted the events of the day starting with the scene at the train station and ending with Frau Weber’s accusations and the ensuing conversation with Mutter.

  “Oh goodness, do you think she believed you?”

  “Absolutely not, but she didn’t persist. She must have sensed the truth wasn’t something she wanted to know.” Ursula tossed her blonde waves behind her shoulder.

  “All’s well that ends well.” Anna fell into silence, but Ursula knew her sister too well. Something was bothering her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  They had reached the turn to their apartment building and would come to the entrance door within a minute if they turned right. Ursula tugged her sister’s arm to the left. Anna sighed.

  “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Ursula sighed. Fear and anxiety held her in a fierce grip, but she’d rather die than not try to help her sister.

  “Oh, God. Ursula, it’s awful.” Anna broke out in sobs. “I’ve been wondering about the unusually high number of deaths in the hospital. I mean, people are very sick, but the number of patients who died has skyrocketed in the last few months.”

  “It’s not your fault, you know.” Ursula knew that her sister suffered with each loss of a patient, sometimes blaming herself for not doing enough.

  “I wish it was. Today, I overheard one of the doctors command the head nurse to make room in the hospital…by…how did he put it? ‘Choosing those who had low hopes of recovering for a transport to another place.’ When she objected that those patients weren’t exactly transportable, he said it wouldn’t matter. It would only save work if they died during the transport.”

  “No, that’s not possible, Anna, you must have misunderstood.” But deep inside, Ursula knew it was possible. Probable even.

  “I’m telling you, it’s the truth. They’re murdering sick people in the hospitals. Not saving them.” Anna’s voice grew exasperated, and Ursula put a calming hand on her arm.

  “Shush. Nobody would be that cruel.” She longed for it to not be true, but as she thought about it, it surprised her less and less. Had she not seen the brutality of the Nazis this very morning? Beating down on a woman until she was unconscious? Torturing inmates at the Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse? It had always bothered her, but she’d justified it with the thought that those inmates were criminals. It had to be done to protect innocent citizens, to keep people like her safe from terror and attacks.

  “Ursula, you don’t understand. All the pieces fit now. There have been discrepancies, which I have questioned for months but not really given a lot of thought. This is the only thing that explains it all.” Anna talked herself into a rage. “Leave your perfect world for one moment and think! Think of all the awful things happening, then explain to me how it can’t be true.”

  Ursula knew there was no arguing with her sister. After the horrible mass executions at the prison and persistent rumors about murdering Undesirables, this was just another ugly piece to the puzzle of what the Nazis really were about. She’d lived in denial, closing her eyes and ears to everything that didn’t fit into her rosy perception of the world. But all the time, the most awful crimes had existed right under her nose.

  Torturing prisoners. Beating down women and children in open streets. Sending underage boys to the front. Persecuting entire segments of the populace and making them disappear. Ursula swallowed and put her free hand over her heart.

  “What if you’re right?” she said with a trembling voice.

  “It’s about time we stepped outside our protected bubble and saw the Nazis for what they really are: monsters more evil than the devil himself. I hate to say it, but Lotte was right all along. We have to stand up to what is going on in our country. Not just because we take pity on a cute fellow, or because we are in too deep now to get out, but because it’s the right thing to do. Our allegiance shouldn’t be with these monsters anymore – we need to listen to our conscience.”

  Ursula stared at Anna, torn between the urge to return to her former life and wanting to do what was morally right. She’d complained about the hardships of war and her awful job, but compared to how she’d felt the past weeks, it had been a piece of cake.

  “It’s not as simple as you’re painting it. First of all, we don’t have proof those killings are really happening…” She paused, tapping her lip with her finger. They didn’t need proof. They’d seen enough other atrocities with their own eyes. “But even if it was, Germany is still our country. Hitler is still our rightfully elected Führer. How can we align ourselves outside of our Fatherland? Betray it?”

  “Just think of those people who are being killed every day. Hitler has just announced Berlin is free of all Jews, but where do you think they are? Are they in prison?”

  “No…they have been relocated. Somewhere. In Poland. To start a new life away from Germany, where they can’t ruin our country.”

  Anna snorted. “You still believe this shit? After all that you’ve seen for yourself? After the troubling news the priest told you?”

  Ursula bris
tled, defending her view of the world. “He hasn’t been there. It’s only hearsay.” Anna couldn’t just tear down her entire belief system with a few words. That would leave her naked, unprotected, floundering without anything to hold on. How should she live without rules in place that told her what to do – and what not to do? What would happen to her beloved country if everyone did as they pleased and disregarded the laws? Wasn’t that the first step into absolute chaos? Doom for everyone and not just for a few?

  “Take off your blinders and see things for what they really are!” Anna’s voice was high-pitched with agitation. “What do you think happens to people who are relocated? They are being slaughtered in concentration camps, Ursula.”

  “Shush, someone might hear,” Ursula warned her sister. At the same time, she felt dirty. Ashamed that she had never known what was happening nor tried to find out. Like a good obedient citizen, daughter, and woman, she’d ignored the brutality and believed the propaganda fed to her day in day out.

  “See what I mean? We can’t even speak out anymore. We’re afraid to be thrown into prison for the crime of voicing our discontent. This is not our Germany anymore. This is a regime of injustice, and I, for my part, don’t want to be a part of it anymore. Do you?” Anna glared intensely at her.

  No, Ursula thought, but she was too afraid to speak aloud.

  Chapter 21

  The wireless brought news the next day of plans to evacuate all civilians not directly aiding the war effort in Hamburg to Rügen. The second largest city in Germany had some time earlier been the target of an awful attack by the English and American bomber squadrons.

  It was known under the name of Operation Gomorrha, and as far as Ursula – or anyone else for that matter – remembered, it was the most horrible and devastating attack ever flown against her country. Apart from killing more than forty thousand civilians and wounding thirty-seven thousand, the firestorm it created had destroyed most of the city.

 

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