by Alan David
Chapter Twelve
Kurt looked up eagerly as Max entered the guard-room, and came to attention and saluted in rather friendly fashion, a smile on his face. But the SS guard-sergeant crashed his feet together, snapped to attention and saluted crisply. Max returned the salutes, giving a ‘Heil Hitler’ in response to the guard-sergeant’s harsh greeting. Then he relaxed and permitted a thin smile to touch his lips as he looked at Kurt’s broad figure. But his brother seemed a trifle uneasy in the presence of the SS, and he went forward, hand outstretched.
‘Hello, Kurt. You’re looking well.’
They shook hands briefly. Kurt seemed slightly overawed by his surroundings, but his pleasure at seeing Max was genuine.
‘Max. It’s good to see you.’ He spoke in a rush. ‘When I learned that your regiment was here I just had to come. It’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘Certainly, and I’m pleased to see you. Come with me to my quarters. We can talk there.’
They left the guard-room, and Max tried to think of something to say. His mind seemed strangely blank after all the thoughts that had teemed through it back in the mess. He glanced sideways at the shadowy figure of his brother, and told himself that they had the same blood in their veins. Kurt was as much an Eckhardt as he. It had been childish in the first place to resent Kurt because their mother had died in childbirth, but that childish resentment had retained its grip upon his mind so that he could never consider Kurt a real brother. The barriers between them, from Max’s point of view, had been strengthened by the fact that they rarely met, for Klaus Eckhardt only occasionally visited the farm outside Dettfeld to see Aunt Gretel and his youngest son.
‘How is Aunt Gretel?’ Max demanded, breaking what seemed to him to be an awkward silence. ‘Have you written to her since coming to Poland? I expect she is worried about you.’
‘I managed to send one letter but I haven’t had a reply yet,’ Kurt responded. ‘How was the fighting for you? I suppose you were in the thick of it. I heard that your people took a lot of casualties.’
‘We had our share! But what about you, Kurt? I don’t know how you can fight inside one of those steel monsters! Give me the open air and a trench any time. I’ll take my chances outside.’
‘It was a bit tough at times,’ Kurt admitted.
They entered a barrack block. Max led the way to his quarters and they entered. Kurt looked around and Max relaxed a little.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he said, removing his hat and loosening his tie. ‘Would you like some schnapps, or don’t you drink?’
‘Thanks. A schnapps would be fine.’ Kurt sat down, feeling easier. He studied Max’s harshly set face and wondered at the brooding expression which showed. He had always been slightly in awe of his elder brother, and since Max had joined the SS the gulf seemed to have widened. But he was genuinely pleased to be here, and smiled and uttered his thanks as Max handed him a glass of schnapps. ‘It really is good to see you, Max. I’ve been thinking about you since the fighting started. I knew you would be in it. You take after Father for war. He always struck me as being a fire-eater, although I never saw much of him. You were lucky, you know, living with Father all the time.’
‘I always thought you were the lucky one, staying on the farm with Aunt Gretel,’ Max responded, smiling wryly as he sat down opposite his brother. ‘When you were born and stayed at the farm I envied you. I loved that farm, and all I ever wanted to do was live there.’
‘But you never visited when you had the chance. We always said we didn’t see enough of you.’
‘That’s life.’ Max shook his head. ‘When I was old enough to please myself I had other things to do. But I can see now that my attitude towards the farm was childish, which wasn’t surprising considering I was a child at the time. But I thought I was missing everything by not living there. Now you tell me you wish you could have lived with Father.’
‘That’s true. Aunt Gretel has been a good mother to me and I love her dearly. But it was never the same, living away from you and Father.’
Max felt his tension lessen, and gulped his drink, reaching for Kurt’s glass as he arose to fill his own.
‘I’m glad you came to see me,’ he said softly. ‘I was in the mess when Fritz came for me. Did you ever meet Fritz Leun before?’
‘Of course. Father sent him to the farm several times when he was unable to come himself. It’s strange that he’s here in the same regiment as you. It must be like having a link with the past. You must have led a very lonely life after Father was killed, before you went into the SS. Why didn’t you come to the farm then?’
‘I couldn’t see myself as a country boy, working on a farm.’ Max returned with the drinks. ‘Father had been killed in that street fight, and I wanted revenge on the bolsheviks. I joined up because it seemed to be the best way of getting at our enemies.’
‘Then you’re sorry the war is over.’
‘Over?’ Max frowned. ‘But it isn’t over! Britain and France have declared war on us and refuse to negotiate. I was hoping my regiment would be transferred to the western front. I hear there is patrol activity going on, but the French haven’t opened an offensive yet.’
‘I don’t think they will, although we are ordered back to Germany. Our tanks need to refit. We’ve hammered them unmercifully during the past month. They say that we have to be ready for a French attack. They’ve loaded our Panzers on a train and we are leaving in a day or two for Sennelager. I hope to get some leave then.’
‘Give my regards to Aunt Gretel when you see her. If I get leave, and can find the time, I’ll call at the farm.’
‘Aunt Gretel would be very happy if you did, Max. And perhaps you could meet Anna. I’m going to ask her to marry me when I get home.’
Max nodded and smiled. ‘I’ll come to your wedding,’ he promised. ‘But aren’t you concerned about getting married with the war on? Supposing something happened to you?’
‘There’s talk that some men are going to be demobilised. The Führer will talk the Allies into peace.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it. And if we fight the Allies it will be a lot harder than Poland. How did you find the fighting in your Panzers? Did you come across any Polish tanks?’
‘Not personally, although I have spoken to men who did, and they said the Polish tanks were not as good as ours. Their anti-tank guns were the worst, but my tank was lucky, although we had some narrow escapes.’
‘My regiment belongs to a Panzer-grenadier division so we were up with the Panzers. I watched them in action. They are very handy to have around.’
Kurt smiled. ‘Considering it was the first time we were really tested under battle conditions we behaved very well. We had only twenty-five per cent dropping out of action from mechanical failure but every machine is now badly in need of servicing. We never expected to advance at such a rate.’
‘It could be the same when we strike at the French,’ Max said.
‘You sound as if you would welcome a war with France. For my part, I would be happy to return to the farm.’
‘I think it will be a long time before you can get rid of your Panzer, Kurt. It is October now, so we cannot open an offensive in the West. But wait until next spring.’
‘In the past month I’ve learned not to look ahead like that. I’ll leave next spring to take care of itself. But let us not talk of war, Max. It was a horrifying experience. We lost over two hundred tanks in the campaign, did you know?’
‘As many as that? And the Poles were out-dated and out-classed! There were no tank battles. You didn’t meet any of their tanks.. But the British and French have large numbers of very good tanks, and it could be a different story when we strike at them. I heard a rumour that our casualties were over ten thousand men killed here in Poland in the past month. Think how many we might lose if we go to war with the Allies.’
‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’ Kurt shook his head. ‘I hope it is all over now, Max. The Russians have stopped their
advances, and the pact we made with them seems to be holding good.’
‘Time will tell.’ Max glanced towards the door when a knock sounded, and stood up as the door opened and Captain Dantine appeared.
Kurt sprang to his feet and stiffened to attention. His cap lay on a chair. He froze as Dantine’s cold brown eyes swept over him, and felt chilled by the impersonal gaze. Max, too, stiffened into attention.
‘Ah, this, I assume, is your brother, Leutnant,’ Dantine said. ‘I can see the family resemblance. Did you have a good war with your Panzers, Sergeant?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Kurt replied stiffly.
‘Good.’ Dantine nodded. ‘While the Fatherland has men like you and your brother we have nothing to fear. Please sit down and relax. I have no intention of intruding upon a family reunion, but this is an urgent matter that won’t wait until morning.’ He looked at Max, who gazed stolidly into his superior’s face. ‘I have deep regret in telling you that Leutnant Flensheit is unable to carry out his duties tomorrow. He spoke to me a short time ago and I have relieved him from all duties. You will take over in his place, Leutnant. Be on the square with your platoon assembled at seven.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Max rapped.
‘That is all. Have a pleasant visit, Sergeant.’ Dantine smiled thinly, then stiffened and gave the Nazi salute. ‘Heil Hitler!’
‘Heil Hitler!’ Max responded, and Kurt heaved an inaudible sigh of relief as the captain departed.
An awkward silence developed, and Max went to refill their glasses. When he returned to face Kurt his eyes were narrowed, filled with speculation.
‘Is something wrong, Max?’ Kurt asked.
‘Wrong?’ Max shook his head. ‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘Well!’ Kurt spoke cautiously. ‘I’ve heard some very strange tales about the SS.’
‘Such as?’ Max stiffened a little, studying his brother’s troubled face.
‘It doesn’t do to repeat rumours.’ Kurt shook his head.
‘You’re very wise. Always bear that in mind, Kurt. Do your duty and think of nothing else.’
‘You have a different discipline from the rest of us. I heard it said some of your men were shot because they did not keep up with the advance.’
‘I shot one of my own men because he deserted in the face of the enemy.’ Max’s face was taut, his eyes filled with a harsh glitter. ‘But there are always a lot of rumours in war. Pay them no heed, and don’t repeat any. You could be shot for that, did you know?’
Kurt shook his head. ‘There’s a lot I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But now I’m feeling morbid. It must be a reaction to the fighting. That was quite an experience. But I am forgetting that you fought in Spain, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. I had that pleasure, and the experience was invaluable. So you are going back to Germany.’ Max changed the subject adroitly. ‘I hope you’ll get leave.’
‘It’s definite that we shall. Fourteen days. It will be heaven to get back to the farm.’
‘I could almost envy you.’ Max spoke in a gentle voice, his eyes half-closed. ‘But we are faced with duty, and it is never easy to reconcile one’s personal thoughts with that. The only way to get through is by not having personal thoughts.’
‘You’ve been on your own too long, Max. You should have come to the farm when Father was killed. It wasn’t good for you living alone in Berlin. There were many times when I wished you were around. We could have gone fishing together, and hunting. I did those things with friends, but it was not the same as having a brother.’
Max smiled, and for the first time in his life he felt the warmth of friendliness spreading through his chest.
‘It sounds as if I missed something,’ he commented. ‘But we’ll see what the future holds for us. When the situation around here has settled I expect to get leave, and I’ll make a point of coming to the farm. Perhaps you could get leave at the same time and we will do what we can to re-unite the Eckhardt family’
‘That would make me very happy.’ Kurt nodded, then tut-tutted as he glanced at his watch. ‘I’m afraid I must be going, Max. I have to be back at barracks by eleven. It will take me at least an hour to reach it.’
‘Very well. Thank you for coming. It was pleasant to see you, Kurt. When are you leaving for Germany exactly?’
‘You know the army! They said in a day or so, but it could be any time. We have already loaded our Panzers so I don’t think it will be long. Anyway, I’ll write to Aunt Gretel and tell her that I’ve seen you. She will be thrilled. She was always talking about you, Max. If you can find the time, why don’t you write her a letter?’
‘I might do just that! I’ll see you to the gate. I hope we shall meet again before we get caught up in a war with the French.’
Kurt arose and reached for his hat. He paused and looked into Max’s eyes. ‘You seem very sure of that war with the French,’ he observed, ‘but I hope events will prove you wrong.’
‘We will see.’ Max picked up his cap and put it on. He saw Kurt glancing curiously at his insignia and looked down at his Vaterland cuff.
‘The Vaterland Division,’ Kurt said quietly. ‘We heard some frightening tales about you, Max.’
‘I’ve already given you some brotherly advice about listening to tales.’ Max slapped Kurt’s shoulder. ‘Come along. Do your duty and obey orders. That’s all they ask of you, Kurt.’
They walked in silence to the main gate, and the sentry passed them with measured tread. Kurt sighed audibly.
‘It was so pleasant seeing you, Max. Please do try and come to the farm. If I go on leave immediately, I’m sure I’ll be able to get a few extra days because my Company Commander, Captain Zimmermann, comes from Dettfeld, and he hopes to marry Aunt Gretel.’
‘We’ll see. Dettfeld is a long way from here, and I am living in a different world.’ Max held out his hand. ‘Take care, Kurt. I’m pleased that you took the trouble to come and see me.’
Kurt smiled as they shook hands. ‘Brothers should stick together, you know,’ he said, then stepped back and saluted. Max returned the salute and Kurt departed, walking along the deserted street.
Kurt was in a happy frame of mind as he returned to his barracks, but he took with him an image of Max’s face, which seemed haunted with subconscious fears. His brother had changed a great deal since they last met, although Max had always been reticent. But he seemed to have a hardness beneath the surface that should not have been there. Kurt suppressed a sigh. Perhaps it was the SS. He thought of the hard-eyed captain who had come into Max’s room and shook his head slowly. He wouldn’t want that one for a superior. Captain Zimmermann was an angel compared with such as he.
The peacefulness of the night was strange after weeks of battle, but his nerves were settling down after the traumatic experience of war. Gone was eternal fear of taking his tank into the open to be struck by an anti-tank shell. Now there was a future again, and life was almost back to normal. He was going back to Germany, and, although he felt disturbed by Max’s constant insistence that there would be a real war with France, he felt optimistic about the future.
As he entered the gates of his own barracks the sentry halted him. Light showed from the guard-room window, bathing him as he stopped and fumbled for his pass.
‘It’s all right, Sergeant, I don’t want to see your pass,’ the sentry told him. ‘It’s just that all your unit have to be warned of movement orders. The guard-sergeant will explain to you.’
Kurt entered the guard-room to find one of his comrades seated at the desk. Sergeant Gruber grinned as he looked up.
‘Had a good time, Kurt?’ he demanded, leering knowingly. ‘Did you find what you were looking for out there?’
‘I did.’ Kurt smiled. ‘I went to see my brother, who is a Leutnant in the SS Vaterland Division.’
‘Lieber Gott!’ Gruber shook his head. ‘You actually went into their barracks and came out alive?’
‘Why not? The way you talk, they might not be on our side. They foug
ht very well in the advance on Warsaw.’
‘I’ve been hearing things about them since they arrived here,’ came the hoarse reply.
‘I don’t want to listen to rumours,’ Kurt retorted. ‘What’s this about movement orders? Are we leaving for Germany tomorrow?’
‘That’s right.’ Gruber, a gross man with a short neck and a squarish head, glanced down at some papers on his desk. ‘We’re leaving for Sennelager tomorrow morning at ten. Reveille is at five, and we’re going on the same train as our Panzers.’
‘That’s good news.’ Kurt stepped aside as a trio of men entered the guard-room to book in, and he saw they were Schultze, Hohner and Weilen. All three had been drinking, and Schultze looked as if he had taken too much.
‘Straighten up!’ Gruber roared, slamming a thick fist on the table. ‘What do you think this place is, a Polish pigsty?’
‘They’re my crew,’ Kurt said pointedly, and Gruber glowered at him.
‘Then I’ll leave you to tell them the good news,’ he retorted. ‘It’s no pleasure for me having to sit here and watch these pigs coming back from an evening’s enjoyment when I can’t leave the barracks.’
Kurt grinned and waited until his men had booked in. He left the guard-room with them, explaining the move they were to make, and they separated to go to their quarters. Kurt’s only disappointment was that he would not be able to contact Max before departing.
Reveille at five had them turning out into a cold morning, and they became embroiled in the chaos which always accompanied a move. Yet order materialised out of apparent confusion, and they were taken in trucks to the railway station where the long troop train of combined coaches and low wagons, on which their Panzers were already chained into position, was waiting at the platform.