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Devils with Wings: Silk Drop

Page 32

by Harvey Black


  “If these men are going now, I see no reason for you not to visit him, providing you don’t disturb the other patients,” she said shooing the three platoon commanders out of the ward.

  He walked over to Max’s bed and rather than coarse, Luftwaffe blue blankets, they were a mixture of brown, red, orange, some of the beds even had pink covers on.

  “Not very military is it sir?” suggested Max, propped up in his bed, four feather pillows supporting him.

  Paul scanned his face. The dark tan that had been burnt in to Max’s skin during their time in this climate, from Corinth to Crete, had now faded slightly, his heavy set jaw having lost some of its definition, but the brown eyes still exuded strength.

  “I would have thought you’d have gone for a pink cover Max.”

  “I didn’t want to leave the others without sir.”

  “It looks better than some of the places I treated you in.”

  “You never did have any style sir,” he said with a smile, his still cracked lips expressing his pleasure at being able to crack a joke again with his commander, and friend.

  “How are the wounds?”

  “They hurt like buggery, but I’m told I’m on the mend. They said if it wasn’t for you patching me up in the first place and getting me back here, I’d have been a goner.”

  “Couldn’t be doing with all the paperwork if I’d lost you.”

  “I’ll be out of here in no time. How’s Feldwebel Richter shaping up?”

  “He’s doing ok. Hasn’t quite mastered your insolent approach to everything, but then who could.”

  “Make sure he doesn’t get too settled sir, I’ll be wanting my job back soon.”

  Paul sat down on the edge of the bed to continue their conversation, when a young, slim, blonde haired nurse slipped passed him and plumped up Max’s pillows.

  “I don’t want him over excited now Oberleutnant, he’s not as well as he tells people.”

  A veil of pain descended across Paul’s face, picked up instantly by Max. A flash back of a dark haired nurse, leaning over his hospital bed, doing and saying the very same things.

  “No more than ten minutes do you hear?”

  Max’s muscled arm patted the nurse’s arm gently. “It’s ok Anneliese, he won’t stay long.”

  She looked from one to the other, now seeing the pain in the young officer’s eyes and the concern on her patient’s face. She finished adjusting the sheets around Max’s waist and left them in peace.

  “I’m well looked after here sir.”

  Paul came out of his reverie, his eyes moist, but no tears came.

  “It looks like you have every reason not to come back to the unit in a hurry Max.”

  “My boys need me sir, so I’ll be back soon.”

  They talked about the battle for Crete, the thousands of their Fallschirmjager comrades killed or wounded in this hellish battle. Some of the glider units landing on or near the airfields were all but decimated. Then they joked and laughed about their journey through enemy lines.

  “That pony didn’t half stink. Every time I looked up, all I could see was its arse. I prayed every time we stopped that it wouldn’t crap on me.”

  They both laughed out loud, others close by joining in, having heard the banter.

  “Did you go back to Adele sir?”

  “Yes. We buried the three men. They were Oberleutnant Janke’s boys.”

  “I bet the lads were furious.”

  “There was a brief moment when I thought they might tear through the village. But they’re Fallschirmjager, Helmut soon brought them under control.”

  “Had they been mutilated?”

  “Not as bad as some of the others that were found on the island, but they had been repeatedly stabbed in what could only have been a frenzy.”

  The nurse stood at Paul’s shoulder.

  “He really does need some rest Oberleutnant, as do the others. The two of you are entertaining the entire ward.”

  Paul stood up. “Anything you need Max?”

  “It’s bed bath time sir, what more could I want?” he whispered.

  They both laughed and Paul made his exit. On the way out he had a quick chat with the other occupants on the ward, a Luftwaffe pilot shot down over Rethymnon, four Gebirgsjager and a Fallschirmjager from Erich’s company, then left.

  The nurse came over to Max, “He looked really sad.”

  “It’s a long story, a long story. But when I get out of here I’ll fix him up. Now, bed bath time?” he said with a beaming smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Paul stepped out of the hospital entrance to be greeted by his fellow company commanders, Helmut, who immediately punched him playfully in the shoulder, Erich and Manfred.

  “Have you heard?” exclaimed Helmut.

  “Heard what?” replied Paul trying to calm the excited Helmut down.

  “Were shipping out in two days,” informed Erich.

  “We fly to Athens, then trucks and trains we’ve been told,” added the thin faced Manfred. Although tough and wiry and only just above five foot nine, he was very slim. When stood next to his fellow officers he looked thin, but next to the gargantuan Feldwebel Grun, he looked positively beanpole like.

  “Some of the guys came from Germany the same way, it was a bloody nightmare,” informed Helmut

  “Yeah, the roads are pretty bad,” agreed Erich.

  “But do you know the best bit?” Helmut whispered.

  Their heads automatically moved closer together, four Fallschirmjager officers in a huddle.

  “After we refit, we’re going to Russia.”

  ***

 

 

 


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