All We Left Behind

by Danielle R. Graham

  Chapter 34

  In May 1945, shouting echoed from the prison yard. I climbed up on an upper bunk and peered out the brown film on the window. A bunch of fellows were jumping up and down.

  ‘Hey, come look at this,’ I hollered to my bunkmates.

  We all huddled around the windows to watch the unusual sight of giddy prisoners.

  ‘What do you think’s going on?’ Luke asked.

  Before any of us had a chance to come up with a theory, the door to our barrack flung open. Gordie stood grinning at us with his arms stretched wide. ‘The Russians have arrived! We’re liberated!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mussolini and Hitler are both history. We’re free, you sons of bitches, we’re free.’

  I knew I wasn’t dreaming because nothing good ever happened in my dreams. I jumped down from the bunk, stuffed my journal into my back pocket, and ran to the door. Ecstatic that the suffering of incarceration was over, I leapt up onto Gordie’s back and he piggybacked me out onto the yard where we hooted and hollered. To my absolute delight, the Russians really were there. Huge beastly men with heavy beards and mounted on gigantic black horses. The German goons had all dropped their guns on the ground and were lined up along the fence with their hands laced behind their heads. It was intensely satisfying to walk past them as they stood impotently in surrender.

  I spotted the white-haired nasty-nosed guard. It would be my only opportunity for retribution. I hopped off Gordie’s back and picked up one of their Karabiners, but I wasn’t the best shot with a rifle, so I walked up closely and lifted it to aim at his forehead. He pleaded in German, presumably asking for me not to kill him. My finger twitched, itching to squeeze the trigger. The decent thing to do was offer forgiveness and let God take care of his punishment. The problem was, God had likely witnessed too many wicked deeds to keep a tally of every one.

  As the images of my time in solitary confinement flashed through my mind, the guard clasped his hands together, begging me to show mercy. He knew he deserved to die after what he had done to me and the others who came before and after me. But I was the better man. I was free. He had to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. He didn’t break me. I clenched my eyes shut, dropped the gun to the dirt, and walked away.

  The Russians handed out vodka, so I grabbed a bottle as Gordie caught up with me. I swigged some, then handed it over to him. He drank a mouthful, and winced as it burned his insides.

  ‘Let’s go get something to eat,’ I said.

  Gordie glanced back over his shoulder at the liberated camp and waved a dismissive good riddance, then followed me out the open gate to freedom.

  We didn’t have any money, so I wasn’t sure how we were going to get anything to eat. I didn’t care, though, because I was prepared to steal if I had to. We walked in a flurry of excitement along with hundreds of other POWs and Russian soldiers to the nearest town, which was only four kilometres from the camp compound.

  Most of the townsfolk locked their doors and shutters when they saw the flood of boisterous men. After four rejections, Gordie and I were ushered by a little old Polish lady into a house that had half its roof bombed out. She nodded a lot, but didn’t speak as she served us a small portion of lamb and potatoes with red wine. It took over the number one spot on my list of all-time favourite meals.

  She pointed at a photo of a young man in uniform on her fireplace mantel, then with tears in her eyes she touched her heart and pointed at the meal. I didn’t know exactly what she meant by her pantomime, but it felt like maybe she was serving us the welcome home dinner that she had planned for someone else. Maybe someone who would never be returning home. Whatever her reason, I was eternally grateful for her generosity. Gordie and I barely talked because we were too occupied with eating. The wine in combination with the earlier vodka went straight to my head, probably because I only weighed about one hundred and twenty pounds. The woman broke off a chocolate square to share for dessert from a secret stash she had hidden behind a wallboard. I stood to wash the dishes for her but then drunkenly started laughing at nothing and accidentally knocked over a vase. Gordie caught it before it hit the ground and pulled me by the shoulders.

  ‘Okay, lightweight, we better get you out of here before you do more damage than the bombs.’ He pushed me towards the door,

  ‘Thank you,’ I said as I stumbled outside. Darkness fell but people strolled unrushed up and down the cobblestone street.

  Gordie thanked the woman repeatedly for treating us the way that she had perhaps hoped a stranger would have treated her son, then he said goodbye. He tucked something into his pocket and stood next to me on the sidewalk, surveying the scene. After a deep breath he said, ‘Ah, do you smell that?’

  I sniffed. ‘Sewage?’

  ‘Freedom. That is the smell of freedom, buddy boy.’

  ‘Oh.’ I bent over and vomited the entire contents of my stomach.

  ‘Dang.’ Gordie grimaced at the revolting sight, then teased, ‘I guess your delicate stomach isn’t used to having real food in it.’

  I retched a few more times until nothing more came out. When I lifted my head, Gordie wasn’t beside me. He was across the yard, bent over a low stone wall, heaving his dinner too. I crawled on my hands and knees over to where he was. ‘What was that you said about having a delicate stomach?’

  ‘Shut it,’ he groaned, and doubled over in another wave of nausea.

  I laughed and we both sat against the wall until our stomachs stopped cramping. It was late in the evening by the time we got up and wandered around the streets to soak up the festivities. The townspeople celebrated the end of the war with the POWs, and it got rowdy. Two young women walked towards us, whispering. They shared a bottle of wine between them. I grinned idiotically, mesmerized by the colours of their clothes. Both had very dark wavy hair. One wore a knit snood net with ringlets popping out to frame her face. The other covered the top of her head with a scarf that tied under her chin, but the length of her hair hung freely down her back. The taller gal wore a blue dress with tiny multicoloured butterflies all over the fabric. It was so pretty I reached out and ran my fingertip across it. She giggled, maybe a little tipsy herself, then introduced herself and her friend, or maybe it was her sister. I wasn’t really in any condition to remember what they said their names were, so I stared at the soft pink fabric of the other young lady’s dress. She also wore a light yellow sweater and looked delicious, like strawberry and banana taffy candy.

  Gordie made cordial pidgin-English conversation with them, but I had to use all my concentration just to walk straight. One of them wrapped her arm around my waist and helped me along. Eventually, we arrived at a jolly town square with a stone water fountain in the centre of the plaza. The aroma of different foods and alcohol mixed together with the pots of vibrant flowers and intoxicated me even more. About to fall down, I sat on one of the benches along the path and leaned my head back to gaze at the brilliant stars.

  Fiddle music erupted out of a pub nearby, and Gordie danced on the grass with the woman while I rested my cheek on the arm of the bench. At some point, one of the ladies pulled my hand to make me stand up. I stumbled forward and she had to steady me as we swayed to the music. Her soft warmth reminded me of bread when it first comes out of the oven. I didn’t have the sense to understand why a gal who smelled that wonderful would want to be dancing up against a fellow who likely reeked worse than a wet dog.

  ‘What’s your name?’ I whispered in her ear.

  ‘Anastasia.’

  I lifted my head up and scanned the plaza. ‘Where is my friend?’

  ‘With Raina. We go there?’

  Her bright red lips and pink cheeks captivated me. ‘Yes. We go there.’

  I stretched my arm across her shoulder and leaned my weight on her as she led me to a stone building with a narrow blue wooden door. She unlocked the latch and helped me up two flights of rickety stairs to an apartment. The interior was visually as lively as an art gallery. The
walls were painted orange, the drapes were gold and silver stripes, and the rugs were a radiant pattern of greens and blues and reds.

  Gordie was seated on a purple velvet couch, watching the other girl dance seductively across the living room. Big band music played on a radio as she took off one item of clothing at a time, throwing them at Gordie.

  ‘Hey, Pierce. Have a seat and enjoy the show.’

  I sat down. Anastasia served a plate of biscuits. I devoured them all. When I lifted my head again, Raina was standing in only her high heels and silky white undergarments.

  ‘Whoa,’ I said, which made Gordie laugh. ‘I need to leave.’ I tried to stand but lost my balance and ended up on the floor. With the little muscle control I had left, I rolled onto my back and stared at Raina as she continued to dance around above me. ‘Gordie. Help me up. I need to leave,’ I slurred.

  ‘In a minute,’ he said, without looking at me. He was fixated by Raina as she played with the straps of her brassiere.

  Anastasia slid off the couch and knelt on the rug beside me. Her hand ran along my leg as she inched closer to me.

  ‘You remind me of cotton candy,’ I said to her, which made her frown and then laugh.

  ‘You enjoy candy?’

  ‘Yes. Very much.’

  She unzipped the back of her pink dress and pushed it down over her shoulders. I sat up and tried to get to my feet, but she quickly slid her dress off over her legs, pulled me back down, and straddled my thighs. Her chest squished against mine and she kissed my neck. Her lips moved along my jaw and face until they found my mouth. The alcohol made my mind swirl. Her lips made my blood rush. I closed my eyes to make it stop. That was the last thing I remembered.

  Chapter 35

  I woke up sprawled on the purple velvet couch in Anastasia and Raina’s apartment. Sunshine angled through the window and the glowing orange of the walls made my hungover brain throb. Anastasia was in the kitchen setting a kettle on the stove. She shot me a sympathetic smile when she noticed I was awake.

  ‘Good morning. Sleep good?’

  ‘Actually, yes. That was the first night in a long time I didn’t have a nightmare.’ At least, as far as I remembered. The entire night was foggy.

  After the kettle boiled, she wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room with a cup of tea for me. She had changed into a short buttercup yellow housecoat, which showed her underpants when she bent over to set the teacup on the side table. The china was the same floral pattern my grandmother used to have.

  ‘You need shower?’

  ‘Yes. If you don’t mind.’

  She plopped down on the couch and propped her feet up on an ottoman as she lit a hand-rolled cigarette. ‘Help to yourself.’

  Not looking forward to the answer, but hating the dread of not knowing, I asked, ‘Did you and I, uh, you know? I can’t remember.’

  Her lips pouted and she shook her head. ‘No. Your friend say you dizzy for dame. Whatever this is meaning.’

  Relieved, but still confused, I asked, ‘Where is my friend?’

  She nodded towards a closed door that must have been a bedroom. Then she pointed at an open door. ‘Shower. I make food.’

  I stood and crossed the living room to the bathroom. The soap smelled like a sanitary apothecary, which is exactly how I wanted to smell. The warm water from the shower was so welcome it damn near made me cry. The only reason I got out was because the aroma of eggs frying enticed me to hurry.

  So much time had gone by since I’d seen my reflection in a proper mirror, I barely recognized the burn-scarred face looking back at me. Dark circles shadowed under my eyes, and I was so thin my bones poked out in sharp angles. My hands still had the tremor as I scrubbed my shirt in the sink with soap, then wrung it out.

  I carried my shirt back into the living room to hang it in the sunshine on the fire escape, next to a small chicken coop. Anastasia piled a plate high with eggs, toast and fried potatoes as I sat down at the small green café table in the kitchen. ‘This looks delicious. Thank you very much.’

  Gordie and Raina emerged from the bedroom. Raina’s red silk housecoat was untied and flapping open to reveal her nude body underneath. She didn’t seem to care. Gordie handed her money from a stash he had stuffed in his pocket. Then he slapped my back and sat down to eat. Raina stuffed the money into a tin can in the cupboard before she sat on the kitchen counter and bit into a piece of toast. She stared at the scars on my body.

  ‘Where’d you get the money from?’ I whispered to Gordie.

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He leaned back and stretched his arms above his head, then chuckled and shoved my shoulder. ‘How are you feeling after that nosedive into the alley?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You jumped out the window and fell off the fire escape into the alley. Yelling about how you needed to get home to Chidori. Don’t you remember?’

  I surveyed my body. The only thing that hurt was my elbow. ‘No.’

  ‘Good thing you were liquored up and landed on those empty crates.’

  ‘How did I get back upstairs?’

  ‘I carried you. You weigh less than a sack of potatoes. Anastasia could have carried you.’

  They all laughed at my expense and I smiled a little.

  Raina stretched her leg over and poked my thigh with her toe. ‘What is it that is wrong with you? A man jumps out window away from woman who makes sex with him. I have not ever seen this.’

  ‘I’m engaged.’

  Raina snorted and she and Gordie teased me some more as we ate. Anastasia showed a little more compassion and restraint, as if she felt sorry for me, but even I had to admit the good-natured jokes were amusing. I didn’t mind taking a little ribbing as a free man since it was infinitely better than being trapped in the POW camp with nothing to laugh about.

  When breakfast was over, I washed the dishes in the sink, then walked over and climbed out the window to sit on the fire escape next to the chicken coop. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the world felt different, as if peace had dawned on the crowds of POWs and Russian soldiers who wandered along the street at the end of the alley.

  Gordie stepped out onto the fire escape and sat next to me. ‘You okay?’

  I sighed as I realized I wasn’t entirely. ‘Did you steal that money from the old lady who fed us dinner?’

  Without looking me in the eye he shook his head slowly. ‘She gave it to me. Said something about her son and using it for food.’

  I studied his demeanour and couldn’t work out if he was telling the truth about stealing it or not, and I wasn’t sure if I cared. But I did care what he spent it on. ‘Do you think Chidori’s been messing around with other fellows while I’ve been away?’

  ‘No,’ he replied without taking any time to think about it.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  He shrugged, maybe not so sure.

  ‘Do you think your wife has been messing around on you?’

  ‘No, she’s a good girl.’

  I didn’t want to judge him, but I was honestly surprised and disappointed that he fell to the temptation of a woman who wasn’t his wife. ‘Don’t you love your wife?’

  ‘I love her more than anything in the world. What I was doing last night had nothing to do with love.’

  I glanced over at him, trying to sort it all out. It was impossible for me to imagine ever wanting to be intimate with anyone other than Chidori. The idea that she might not have waited for me literally nauseated me. ‘I just want to go home,’ I said finally.

  ‘I hear ya, pal.’

  We sat in silence for a long while before I said, ‘Thanks for gluing the picture of Chidori back together after the goon tore it to pieces. It really meant a lot to me. More than you can know.’

  He nodded to accept my gratitude.

  ‘How did you get the glue?’

  ‘We scraped the dried resin from the spindles of the chair and melted it until it was glue again. We fixed all sorts of things once we fig
ured that trick out.’ He leaned his forearms on the railing and watched the people on the street below. The scars from the airplane wreck were emblazoned across his back and reminded me of mine. We were permanently marred by the war, both inside and out. And although there was nothing I wanted more than to be home, the possibility I was too changed terrified me.

  I touched the smooth scar tissue that stretched up my neck and across my jaw. ‘What if Chidori takes one look at me and is repulsed?’

  He laughed. ‘Don’t worry about that. You weren’t all that good looking to start with.’

  ‘Ha. Now I know you’re lying for sure.’ I smiled and ran my hand through my hair. It was scruffy and the texture of straw.

  Someone whistled from the end of the alley, catching our attention. Jack waved at us frantically. ‘Get your arses over to the railroad station on the east side of town. The Brits are sending a Flying Fortress to Barth to evacuate us out from there.’

  I glanced at Gordie and beamed. ‘Hot diggity. Let’s go home.’

  ‘Hell yeah.’

  Chapter 36

  F/O Pierce 05.03.45 Freedom Duration: 2 days.

  The train out of Poland could only take us halfway to Barth, Germany, because the tracks had been blown up. The plan, which we came up with by majority consensus rather than direct orders, is to start walking in the morning. We’re bunked with no gear in dark, boggy conditions under a grove of trees. The rain has turned into a continuous downpour. So far, freedom is physically less comfortable than being a Kriegie but, despite the cold and damp, there is a calmness about my fate that I haven’t felt in years.

  F/O Pierce 05.04.45 Freedom Duration: 3 days.

  Walking cross-country towards the river through the flooded fields took much longer than it should have. The first bridge we came to was washed out, so we continued fourteen kilometres out of our way to cross on a flimsy pedestrian rope bridge. After some conflicted debate and disagreement, half of us decided to occupy a barn and several outbuildings for the night. Even though we are sheltered from the weather now, my clothes are still soaked through. We haven’t eaten since we left Anastasia and Raina’s apartment. Some of the other fellows are becoming irritable with the conditions and the disorganized leadership. Not me. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I am unrestricted and at liberty to make my way home, which is all the motivation I need to continue to endure hardships.