Fireshadow

by Anthony Eaton

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Good. Come on.’

  The guard waited outside, lighting a cigarette and rubbing his hands against the cold, while Erich followed the officer through the door.

  It was quiet inside. Stutt led him through a small, unattended reception area to an open door off to one side, and knocked quietly.

  ‘Enter.’

  The camp commandant sat at his desk, which was covered by small, neat piles of paperwork. Erich hadn’t seen him closely before and was surprised at the man’s age. He was younger than the doctor, but clearly older than Stutt, probably nearing retirement. His uniform was neatly pressed and ironed, and he carried himself with a military bearing that reminded Erich uncomfortably of his own father. Like the doctor, the commandant wore a groomed and waxed moustache on his top lip. He looked up from his paperwork as the two men entered.

  ‘Heinrich, come in.’

  ‘Good morning, sir. I am sorry to disturb you on a Sunday.’

  ‘Not at all. I was just wading through paperwork. A distraction will be welcomed.’

  ‘It is not a pleasant one, I am afraid.’

  ‘That’s unfortunate. Please take a seat.’ He gestured at the one wooden seat in front of the desk and Stutt made himself comfortable while Erich remained at attention slightly behind him. ‘What seems to be the problem?’

  ‘This is Private Erich Pieters, Doctor Alexander’s orderly . . .’

  Stutt proceeded to outline the story of Erich’s two run-ins with the guard, at rollcall and in the hospital. He made no mention of the doctor’s grand-daughter though, which was strange. Perhaps Günter had not told him the story in its entirety. When Stutt had finished, the commander turned and considered Erich, seemingly for the first time.

  ‘Do you speak English, son?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Is all this true?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘You don’t have anything to add?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘One thing puzzles me, Commander.’ He turned his attention back to Stutt. ‘Why exactly has Thomas taken such a dislike to your young soldier here? Do you have any explanation?’ The question, though asked of Stutt, was directed at Erich.

  For a second Erich considered telling him about the girl, but if Stutt had deliberately failed to mention it, he must have had his reasons. Beside, if her name came up, then the easiest solution would be for the commandant to prevent her assisting in the hospital, and that wasn’t what Erich wanted either.

  ‘I really do not know, sir. Perhaps I have inadvertently offended him at some point. He would be able to inform you, I am sure.’

  ‘Perhaps. I shall certainly speak to him. If it is true, then this is a very serious allegation indeed, Commander, and you can rest assured that I will do something about it.’

  With a brief nod, Stutt stood and walked towards the door, gesturing Erich to follow. Not another word was spoken until the two were back inside the German compound.

  ‘You didn’t mention the girl, Erich, why?’

  ‘Neither did you, sir. I was simply following your example.’

  ‘And I was leaving you the opportunity to tell the commandant everything relevant to this case.’

  Erich shrugged. ‘In any case, this is really nothing to do with her, sir. The doctor enjoys having his grand-daughter’s company, and I would not like to be the one to deprive him of it.’

  ‘Commendable. But you will need to be very careful around her, because, as I told you, further incidents of this nature will reflect badly upon you and quite possibly on her as well.’

  ‘I understand, sir.’

  ‘Good. You are dismissed.’

  Stutt turned and headed towards the mess. Erich watched him go, angry at the lot of them. Stutt, for interfering in events that were clearly none of his business, Günter, Alice, Thomas. All of them were making it difficult for Erich to concentrate on the important business of fighting the war, any way he could, of remaining a German soldier.

  A group of men was assembling near the gates and one of them, seeing Erich standing alone, called, ‘Youngster! Coming into town?’

  ‘Nein!’ Erich waved a polite thank you. ‘You have fun without me.’

  ‘Ja. We will.’

  Erich turned away and, after a moment’s hesitation, walked towards the hospital.

  ‘Good morning, Youngster, what brings you to work on a Sunday?’

  Günter, his leg still swathed, was sitting in the sun on the front steps of the hospital. Erich wondered for a moment how he’d managed to get himself out there, but concentrated on the more important business at hand.

  ‘Why did you tell him?’

  ‘Him?’ Günter feigned ignorance.

  ‘Stutt. I told you I’d see him myself if I thought it necessary.’

  ‘I know you did. But as a prisoner and a patient I have every right not to be threatened by a guard while lying injured in hospital.’

  ‘He was threatening me, dummkopf.’

  ‘And in doing so, every one of us. Listen to me, Erich; these men in here, they have enough to worry about having to go out into the forest every day; cuts, injuries, falling trees’ – Erich’s eyes flicked involuntarily to Günter’s stumpy leg – ‘and they miss their families, and they’re cold and wet, and in short the last thing that we need in here is some young guard on a vendetta against the Germans.’

  ‘He’s only interested in me.’

  ‘Don’t be naive! Do you think for a moment that this is really about the girl? Come along, Youngster, you claim to be perceptive. What do you think is the real reason you’ve become his number one victim?’

  Erich considered for a moment. He didn’t get an opportunity to respond. Günter answered his own question.

  ‘I told you last night. It’s your family history. This is a young man who never got the opportunity to prove himself against any real Nazis, and between you and me, it’s made him the butt of almost every joke in the guardroom. He’s angry and shamed, and now here you are, young, arrogant and German, the ideal target. The rest of us are all too tired to fight any more, but not you – and that makes him angry.’

  ‘You talk rubbish.’

  ‘Not at all. Stutt told you on your first morning, I imagine, that you’d passed a screening process to get posted to Australia. If they really considered you to be a dangerous Nazi threat, then you’d be elsewhere. I guarantee it. No, this boy hates you because of what you represent, more than for any other reason.’

  ‘So you are saying that I should ignore my pride in my country and my family?’

  Erich waited for him to respond but Günter had fallen silent. At length he leaned back, turned his face to the sky and sighed.

  ‘It is good to be out again, after all these weeks. Good to feel the sun on tired old bones.’

  ‘How old are you?’

  Günter turned away from the sun and stared at him. ‘Why do you wish to know?’

  ‘Just curious.’

  The older soldier looked away, back into the sunlight, closing his eyes as he answered. ‘I am twenty-eight.’

  Erich had no reply and after a few moments settled on the step alongside Günter where they sat in silence until Günter spoke again.

  ‘Youngster?’

  ‘Ja?’

  ‘Do me a favour and get my tobacco for me. It is back in my hut, in a pouch beneath my cot.’

  Erich looked again at the man beside him. Twenty-eight. And somehow he had always seemed so old, even before his accident.

  ‘I will be right back.’

  Jogging lightly across the parade ground Erich thought about what Günter had been telling him. The tobacco pouch was where it was supposed to be and on the way back Erich stopped in at the mess where a group of sailors was engaged in a card game.<
br />
  ‘Youngster! Want to play a hand?’

  ‘No. Just getting some fruit.’

  There were apples in a bucket near the kitchen and Erich grabbed a couple, one each for Günter and himself, before heading back towards the hospital. Coming around the far end of the mess he looked down to where Günter was still sitting on the steps. He wasn’t alone any longer, though. Thomas was also there, at the base of the steps, standing with his back to Erich and his rifle slung under his arm, sloppily as usual. Erich slowed to a halt, staying as quiet as possible. Fragments of the conversation floated to him.

  ‘. . . need to be certain you don’t decide to make trouble for me,’ Thomas was saying.

  Günter shrugged a gesture of not understanding. The guard continued, regardless.

  ‘And you reckon you haven’t seen him, eh? Well, I might take a look inside, just to be sure.’

  He shoved past Günter and up the steps, deliberately bumping the stump of Günter’s leg as he did so. Even from a distance Erich could see the man tense with pain. Thomas vanished into the hospital and Günter spotted Erich. He gestured Erich to disappear and, not needing a second warning, Erich ran back around the side of the mess hall.

  After twenty minutes waiting, trying to ignore the increasingly boisterous catcalls from the card game, Erich cautiously checked outside and, finding the yard clear, bolted back across to the hospital. Günter was still on the step.

  ‘What was that about?’

  ‘Nothing to worry about, I think, Youngster.’

  ‘Nothing to worry about?’ The sudden change in Günter’s attitude was unexpected.

  ‘Nein. I don’t think our little friend will bother us again for a while.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because just after you vanished, while he was still inside the hospital poking around, the doctor came by to see how I was going.’

  ‘Ah. I wish I’d stayed to watch.’

  Günter grinned. ‘Ja. It was quite a performance.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘The commandant’s office, with the doctor. Somehow I don’t imagine he’ll receive a very warm welcome.’

  Erich joined him on the step and fished the tobacco pouch out from his pocket.

  ‘Here, but you didn’t get it from me.’

  ‘Of course not, Youngster.’ The crippled soldier set immediately about the process of rolling himself a slim cigarette.

  From the mess hall, the shouts of the card game drifted across the clearing, and on the other side of the fence two guards patrolled lazily along the perimeter, on their way towards the Italian compound.

  ‘Günter?’

  ‘Ja?’

  ‘What is waiting for you at home?’

  The other man shrugged. ‘Who knows, Youngster. Life will be different for all of us, eh?’

  ‘Ja.’

  A large black bird, red markings below its wings and throat, flitted high above the compound. Erich followed its progress over the huts and into the forest on the other side.

  ‘Do you ever wish you could be like that bird?’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘You know. Just take to the sky and fly out of here.’

  ‘And go where? Home is a long way from here, you know.’

  ‘Ja. But still, if I could fly . . .’

  Sitting in the sunlight, Erich thought about home and his mother and sister and for the first time in many weeks allowed himself to picture them clearly, to drift back to the day, well over a year ago now, when he’d told them he’d joined up.

  His mother hadn’t responded, simply wept gentle, silent tears. Mathilde remained composed. She’d at least had some warning.

  ‘Erich . . .’ Her gaze caught him straight in the face. She shook her head slightly but held his eyes. ‘I told you not to.’

  ‘I know, but it is something I must do. This country needs soldiers.’

  And later, after their mother had left the room and he had taken her place at the table, his sister reached out and took his hand in hers.

  ‘You will leave her with nothing, you know.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If you get killed in some foreign battle, what will she have left? Not even a grave to visit.’

  ‘You and Father will still be here.’

  ‘Father is never here.’

  This was true. Since the war had escalated, their father spent more and more time in Berlin. Often it would be months between visits, and with the state of the post, weeks between letters.

  ‘I will not get killed. I promise.’

  Her grip tightened. ‘I will hold you to that promise. See that you don’t.’

  Erich kissed her lightly on the forehead.

  ‘I will look in on you in the morning, before I leave.’

  But the following morning he’d risen early, eager to get on with the rest of his life, and when he’d looked though the door of her room she was still asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he’d crept away.

  From the treetops the bird called to its mates, a grating screech that seemed to shudder right to the core of Erich’s thoughts, calling him back from home.

  ‘Do you know, Youngster, it is actually a beautiful place.’ Günter too had been following the bird’s progress.

  ‘What?’

  ‘This country. Beautiful. Rough, it is true, and very different to what we are used to, you and I, but beautiful nonetheless.’

  ‘Ja. And full of poisonous animals and rotten weather.’

  ‘But look at those trees, Erich. How old must they be?’

  Erich studied the brooding wall of timber beyond the wire but found himself unable to see it as anything other than alien. There was no beauty in those dark green hollows and tangles, only danger and fear. Günter was also studying the tree line, though with a far more gentle, reflective expression.

  ‘I think a man could be happy in this country, Youngster, do you know that?’

  ‘It is enemy territory, don’t forget.’

  But even as the words came out, they sounded false. Hollow. He didn’t really believe it any more. Günter seemed to be aware of the same thought.

  ‘Only at the moment. In a little while it will be just another piece of this world that we live in. Like those trees – they have been watching over here since long before this war and will stand guard for many years yet. I think I would like to be a part of that.’

  ‘What about your wife?’

  ‘We will see, Youngster, we will see.’

  After a couple more seconds Günter reached across and took his shoulder, his grip firm for the first time in many weeks.

  ‘And now, I am tired from all this thinking and excitement. How about assisting a cripple back to his sick bed?’

  Fifteen

  November 1943

  The worst part about the camp, Erich discovered, wasn’t the captivity, nor the people, but the boredom. Despite the doctor’s best efforts to keep him engaged, there was only so much to do in a compound in the middle of the bush, and as the weather continued to improve and the days grew warmer and longer, so too the workload in the hospital grew lighter, and Erich found himself with more and more time on his hands.

  ‘You know, Erich, I have a colleague at the university in Melbourne who teaches in the medical school there.’

  Doctor Alexander stepped from the cool darkness of the hospital and sat slowly on the verandah beside Erich, who had been idly drawing. He stopped his sketch and listened as the doctor continued, ‘I think I might write to him and ask him to send across new textbooks and perhaps some basic exam papers.’

  ‘Examinations, Doctor?’

  ‘Nothing that would count for any official qualifications, of course, but it would give you something to focus on and would certainly assist your work for
me.’

  Erich considered. He’d finished working through all of the medical books the doctor had available to him in the small hospital, and his medical skills, which had been developing so rapidly before, seemed to have reached a plateau. Besides, it would be something to do.

  ‘If you think it would be a good idea, sir, then I am happy to try.’

  ‘I do, Erich. I’ll try to get some more advanced anatomy and surgical procedural lessons.’

  ‘That would be good.’

  ‘And how is Günter going? I haven’t seen him this week.’

  A couple of the men had fashioned crutches from forest timber and, mobile again, Günter had bounded out of the hospital and back into the thick of camp life. His new assignment in the camp kitchen had captured his imagination and during the days he was to be found ordering the gardeners around or propped against one of the rough wooden benches chopping vegetables. Erich suspected that the doctor missed his company.

  ‘Fine, Doctor. He tells me there is no longer any pain at all.’

  ‘When you see him next, remind him to come and let me examine the healing, will you?’

  ‘Ja, I will.’

  ‘Have you had any problems with Thomas lately?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  Not problems as such. Since being disciplined over the incident in the hospital, both Erich and Thomas had been at pains to avoid a direct confrontation. This didn’t mean that there was no longer enmity. Thomas still had the task of checking the roll each morning and evening, and he would spit Erich’s name with a degree of venom absent from the others on the list. It was also clear from the way Thomas watched him, closely with narrowed eyes, that the bad feeling between the two was far from forgotten.

  ‘That’s good news. He was punished quite severely, you know?’

  ‘I had gathered. What happened?’

  ‘His pay was docked and his weekend privileges cancelled for three months.’

  Erich smiled. Günter had also heard from one of the Australian guards that Thomas was now so much of a joke in the guard’s mess that the boy almost never appeared there except for meal times. This was a mixed blessing, though. While Thomas was now too nervous of the repercussions to pursue his animosity, he was an almost constant presence around the camp. Erich often felt a strange sensation, and a glance around the perimeter would reveal Thomas in one of the towers or on foot patrol outside the wire, watching. Always watching. And waiting, Erich suspected.