War Girl Lotte

by Marion Kummerow

  When the train arrived, her jaw fell to the floor. It was one long row of cattle wagons, all of them filled to the tops with desperate women. There’s no way I’m boarding one of those wagons. People put on a cattle train never return to tell the tale.

  But when the SS officers made generous use of their batons, Lotte straightened her spine and followed the other women into the overcrowded wagon. She wrinkled her nose at the horrendous smell, a mixture of excrement, sweat, and fear that made her gag.

  Lotte tried to find space next to the wall of the car, hoping for fresh air coming in through the slats, but she kept getting jostled out of the way. The air buzzed with sobs, desperate prayers, and angry imprecations, only some of them in German. The oppressive heat sent sweat running down Lotte’s forehead, but she couldn’t even raise her hand to wipe it away, such was the crush inside the train car. After hours of standing back to back with the other prisoners, her cramping legs gave way, and she would have collapsed on the floor if she weren’t pressed tight against several other women.

  With each turn the train took, a sea of bodies swayed from one side to the other. As the train stopped, Lotte was pressed against the wall, the weight of dozens of women squeezing the air out of her lungs. Still struggling for breath, she noticed the car door opening, a swift breeze of cool air reaching her nostrils.

  But moments later, another rush of terrified women was shoved into the full cattle car. How? She had no idea. But even though there was no room left inside, the train stopped several more times to pick up more prisoners. Lotte must have succumbed to her exhaustion because when she opened her eyes again, it was dark outside and the temperature had dropped.

  After traveling for the entire day, Lotte’s tongue stuck against the roof of her mouth, but there was no respite. In the wee hours of the morning, the train finally arrived at its destination.

  “Raus! Schnell!” Voices yelled to make everyone hurry out of the cattle car. Lotte stumbled to the ground, where the women were told to stand in a straight line before walking about half an hour to the camp.

  At first, Lotte welcomed leaving the train. She even quirked her lips up in something similar to a smile as she noticed the female guards wearing a uniform similar to the one her sister wore as a prison officer. But the smile quickly dropped from her face when one of the guards lashed Lotte’s arm because she didn’t march in line with the woman in front.

  Her sister didn’t have a whip, and Ursula prided herself that she’d never used her baton. But these women did. Frequently and with apparent joy. Every little offense was countered with a lash or a stroke. When a woman couldn’t keep up and fell to the ground, Lotte’s instinctive reaction to help earned her another lash.

  “Keep going,” the guard yelled.

  More and more women lagged behind, and that’s when Lotte heard it – barking dogs. And then the most awful sound of screeching women chilled her to the core.

  This time, Lotte didn’t miss a step. She walked on, eyes fixed on the back of the woman in front, blocking out anything and everything around her.

  She didn’t see the beautiful lake in the distance, nor the forest of pine and birch trees around the compound, didn’t notice the lovely town they were marched through. She didn’t even hear the sound of shutters being closed in the houses they walked past. But she couldn’t help noticing the strange odor in the air, coming from a dark cloud of smoke rising in the distance.

  A wave of homesickness swept over her. This was the closest she’d been to Berlin in many months, and yet it was so far away. As they reached the concrete wall dividing the campgrounds from the outside world, a bevy of male guards appeared out of nowhere and howled at the newcomers.

  Even with all she had been through, Lotte had never been more scared in her life than in that moment. She almost jumped when she had to walk past another German Shepherd snapping his jaws and growling ferociously. In front of her, one woman lost control and ran away. To where, Lotte had no idea.

  One of the guards gave a sickly laugh and released the dog. The animal jumped onto the terrified woman, biting and tearing at her flesh as she screamed in terror and pain. Lotte’s stomach revolted at the morbid spectacle, but she somehow managed to hold herself upright. The guards clapped their hands, praising the dog, and pointing to where the now dead woman lay.

  Lotte was pushed and prodded towards the entrance and the looming walls that concealed the prison. She thought she’d endured the worst, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that awaited her upon walking through the gate.

  Rows upon rows of long buildings with small windows and only one entrance and exit door apiece lay before her. Where there had been green grass and flowers growing outside the camp, here there was nothing beautiful. Lotte swallowed as fear like she’d never known tried to overwhelm her. She put one foot in front of the other, intent on not angering the guards that were yelling at the long line of women to keep them moving.

  The guards separated the new arrivals into two groups. Old and weak women on one side, strong and healthy ones to the other. Lotte didn’t mind joining the group of young women, she just hoped the old ones would be taken to a nicer place.

  They started walking again, the women forced into a group rather than a line. Passing the white buildings that turned out to be the dormitories, Lotte noticed the inmates already there. Bald, skeletal figures wore identical blue-and-white striped dresses with white kerchiefs. They barely resembled human beings, looking instead like some horrible creatures escaped from a horror motion picture: walking skeletons of misery.

  “Monsters,” a woman cried out, “please keep those monsters away.”

  The reaction of the guards was an ugly laugh and the crack of a whip. Lotte instinctively ducked her head, the evidence of the fate awaiting her taking her breath away. Still, she continued to walk, one foot after the other, sticking to the center of the group because she’d quickly learned that was the best place to avoid being struck by the guards or nipped by the dogs.

  “Lotte?” A harsh whisper called her name.

  Lotte peered in the direction of the voice without moving her head and saw Irmhild meandering cautiously through the group of women towards her.

  “Goodness, Irmhild, you too?” Lotte breathed, looking straight ahead, putting one foot in front of the other.

  Her friend’s eyes looked terrified. “They caught Rachel and Mindel with the fake papers on them. It was easy enough for the mayor to deduce that I had made them.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lotte whispered. “It’s all my fault.” How many more casualties would her rash actions cause?

  “Herr Keller was livid because Aron and Israel had escaped. He even lied to the Gestapo about the number of children in hiding because he didn’t want to be punished for his mistakes.”

  “At least that’s something.” She moved her hand to touch Irmhild’s for a short moment, and a sliver of hope took hold of her. Guilt for dragging her friend into this weighed heavily on Lotte’s soul, but at the same time, she took solace in the fact that she wasn’t in this nightmare on her own.

  The group of women had come to a halt in front of a building with the inscription Brausebad – shower room. Lotte sighed. Her summer dress stuck to her skin and she was covered in sweat and dirt from head to toe. A shower would be a welcome reprieve after this hellish train ride.

  “Strip naked,” the guards yelled at them.

  Shame flushed her cheeks as she looked at Irmhild, who had the same expression of debasement on her face. To make things worse, a large group of SS men had followed the women to the showers, leaning onto their guns while leering and cheering at the group of terrified women.

  “You need an extra invitation?” a female guard hissed, cracking her horrid whip. It ripped right through Lotte’s summer dress, leaving a burning mark on her back. Gritting her teeth at the agonizing pain, she unbuttoned her dress and pulled it over her head.

  When she was down to nothing but her underpants, whic
h were already ripped from Hans’ rough treatment of her, she hesitated. No man had ever seen her naked before, let alone a lewd group of them. Memories of Hans’ assault rushed to her brain. How much worse could this get?

  “Get those ratty things off and throw them out here,” a female guard screamed in her face, slapping her legs with the baton in her hand.

  “That’s right, you floozy. Get those clothes off and show us those tits and ass.” The SS men jeered and hooted, making crude comments, some of which Lotte didn’t even understand.

  Lotte flinched, but removed her underwear and then tossed the ripped garment onto the pile in front of her. The guard lifted it up with her baton and showed it to the cheering men. “Looks like this one had a little fun before her arrest.”

  “Come here, and we can all have some fun,” another uniformed man hooted with delight.

  Lotte turned crimson at the implication and had to bite her tongue to hold back her protest. It was the most debasing and terrifying situation she’d ever experienced in her life. In fact, since she’d been caught in the forest with Uwe, her life had been a succession of steadily deteriorating experiences.

  Will this ever end?

  Thankfully, she was ordered to pick up her shoes and enter the shower building – away from the leering SS men. But inside, the next horror awaited her. Separated into two groups, the women of the first group were forced into the barber chair. Clip, clip went the shears, stripping the women of their femininity, leaving them with bald skulls devoid of eyebrows, and no trace of hair between their legs.

  Lotte closed her eyes, but she couldn’t block out the sobs of formerly beautiful women reduced to frumps. She curled a strand of her hair around her finger. While she’d always disliked the way her curls couldn’t be tamed, she most definitely didn’t want to lose them.

  When it was her turn to mount the barber’s chair, she was relieved when the man in front didn’t use the shears on her, but the reprieve lasted only for a split-second. Moments later, her feet were strapped in stirrups, and he held up a duck beak–shaped metallic instrument. Without any warning, he shoved it inside her, violently pushing the two sides apart, without consideration for her tender flesh.

  Lotte could no longer contain her tears and sobbed as his rubber-clad finger followed the instrument inside, where he poked and probed and tormented. She didn’t even notice how he forced her mouth open and jolted her teeth with the same finger. A nurse standing nearby dutifully jotted down his comments on a clipboard.

  Despite the explanation of testing the newcomers for venereal disease, Lotte didn’t have to be the sister of a nurse to know this wasn’t true. Since neither the instrument nor his rubber gloves were cleaned or changed between patients, this procedure was clearly intended to humiliate and debase.

  Like a zombie, she climbed from the chair and shuffled into the next room to take an icy shower. At least she managed to quench part of her thirst by catching the water with her mouth. Jittering, she picked up her shoes and carried them to the assembly space where the roll call took place. After standing naked in line for hours, she was given an ugly blue-and-white striped dress made of rough drill with a white kerchief to wear.

  Despite the scratchy material, it was a respite to be dressed again.

  Lotte dared a glance at Irmhild and inched closer to her friend. Both of them received a green triangle of cloth and their prisoner number to be worn on her clothing at all times. She didn’t need to ask what the consequences would be for disobeying. The green patch indicated they were common criminals. Whether that was a good thing or not, Lotte had no idea.

  When they were ordered to march to the barracks, Lotte reached for Irmhild’s hand, seeking a bit of comfort in this hostile world.

  Chapter 19

  Lotte’s only solace was that she and Irmhild were assigned to the same barracks. The Aufseherin, as the guards were called, yelled into the barracks and an emaciated woman with a dead look in her eyes hurried to the entrance.

  “Get these prisoners accommodated and have them attend roll call in ten minutes,” the Aufseherin shouted.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the bald woman answered and motioned for Lotte and Irmhild to follow her.

  Upon entering the dim building, Lotte held her nose at the disgusting stench of human excrement, sickness, and death. Bile rose in her throat, but she only imagined the punishment should she vomit all over herself, so she swallowed it down.

  Bunk beds, three tiers high and barely five feet in length, lined the walls of the six large rooms inside the barracks. All of the rooms connected via a narrow hallway. The bald woman introduced herself as Verena and led them to a bunk bed.

  “Welcome to hell on earth. Your bed is up there.” She pointed to the top bed. “We always put the newcomers on the top because they’re still strong enough to climb up.” Then she shuffled to another bunk, grabbed a blanket, and handed it to Irmhild. “You’re lucky, the owner died last night. You can have her blanket. Take good care of it. It will be your most precious belonging when winter sets in.”

  Irmhild made to climb the bunk without the assistance of a ladder while Lotte waited for the woman to assign her a bed too.

  Verena gave a dry cough. “When you’re ready, I’ll show you the facilities.”

  “And me?” Lotte asked.

  “You?”

  “Where do I sleep?”

  She pointed a finger. “Up there, with your friend.”

  Lotte swallowed hard and sank onto the bottom bunk. The bare straw mattress filled with wood shavings scratched her legs. I guess we won’t get a bed sheet either. At least I’ll share with Irmhild and not some stranger.

  Irmhild climbed down again, her eyes full of fear and disgust. Lotte grabbed her hand and whispered, “As long as we’re together, it’s not half as bad.”

  Verena led them to the stinky latrine at the end of the barracks, a room with nothing but a dozen toilet bowls

  “You can use them during the assigned times, but never at night because the doors are shut. There will be pails by the entrance to each room in case of an emergency. Now hurry, or you’ll be late for the roll call, and if that happens, everyone gets into trouble.”

  Lotte’s stomach growled viciously.

  “You never get used to the hunger,” Verena murmured.

  After having been forced to parade naked past the lewd SS men only hours ago, goosebumps rose on her skin as Lotte marched back the same way. She grazed her fingers across the scratchy material of her prisoner’s uniform to make sure it was still there, protecting her against the awful glances violating her modesty.

  Thousands and thousands of women poured onto the assembly place, each looking more ghostly and emaciated than the next one. The realization that she would soon look like the rest hit her like a hammer. A picture of human misery. Dear God, what have I done? Suddenly the idea of letting Hans kiss her didn’t seem so bad anymore.

  Every woman seemed to have an exact place to stand, except for the newcomers. Within her few hours in the camp, Lotte had already learned to never hesitate even for a split-second before carrying out an order from the guards. When the newcomers were yelled at to gather in the front rows, she sprinted forward to take her assigned place.

  The roll call lasted for an eternity, and Lotte fought with fatigue, hunger, and cramping legs, but she neither staggered nor moved. Not until a man who was introduced as the doctor in charge ordered all the newcomers to undress.

  The sun had long set behind the trees looming over the prison wall reminiscent of an outside world, and the temperature had fallen considerably. Lotte neatly folded her prisoner dress and laid it at her feet the way she’d been told. Once she was finished, she stood erect, looking into the distance, beyond the prison walls. All the way back to Aunt Lydia’s farm and her cozy, warm bed with the down blanket and the soft pillow.

  The doctor, a nurse in tow, walked down the long line of women, stopping every few feet to utter a few words. When he reached Lotte, he gl
anced at her for a moment, and the nurse read from her list. “German. Seventeen. Social reintegration.”

  “Ammunition factory,” the doctor said.

  Despite the debasing situation, Lotte managed to hold her head high. She didn’t even flinch when the woman next to her fell to the ground, and a guard rushed over, beating her with a baton until she crawled into place again.

  “Untauglich. Block 7,” the doctor said, and the nurse dutifully jotted it down.

  Unfit? What does that mean? Lotte thought.

  After hours of debilitating roll call, they were ordered to dress again and report in the morning to their line of work. Just as Lotte was sure her knees would buckle, it was finally time for dinner.

  She hadn’t expected whole milk, cheese, and bacon that were the norm at Aunt Lydia’s, but what she received was far worse than she could ever have imagined. Fifty grams of bread and a watery soup with half a potato for each woman. The only abundant thing was smelly water to drink. Nothing that came close to soothing the hunger gnawing at her gut.

  Back in their barracks, she learned that Irmhild had been assigned the same work.

  “Ammunition factory? Lucky you,” Verena said. “They treat the prisoners comparatively well. And as long as you’re fit to work you have a chance to survive the daily selections.”

  Unfit, the doctor had said. Block 7. “What does Block 7 mean?” Lotte blurted out.

  “It’s the barracks for those who are too weak or sick to work. Once there, you never return,” Verena answered with a hard voice.

  “How long have you been here?” Lotte whispered.

  A painful expression crossed Verena’s face. “Years. I’ve been in other camps before, but this one is by far the worst.”

  With the woman’s words ringing in her head, Lotte climbed up to her bunk. There, she held Irmhild tight before both of them fell into a coma-like sleep.