The Traitors of Camp 133

by Wayne Arthurson

  Ehrhoff sighed and drank some tea before continuing. “But it is still confusing,” he said, his voice softening. “There are those legionnaires who don’t understand this lifelong pledge and wish to integrate fully into the German military and forget about the Legion, to pretend that since they fought for Germany in German uniforms, their time in the Legion is done.”

  “What will happen to them?”

  “If they haven’t completed their tour of duty in the Legion, they are deserters.”

  “Like Pohlmann.”

  “We haven’t decided on Pohlmann. If he returns, we’ll make that decision.”

  “So if escape could brand him a deserter,” Neumann clarified, “he must have had a good reason to escape.”

  “Like I said, he was probably afraid of you.”

  “Yes, he probably was, but in the end, I wouldn’t have found him guilty of murder. So he would have been let go. There is something else he was afraid of, possibly someone else.”

  “Maybe he witnessed who killed Mueller?” offered Ehrhoff.

  Neumann raised his eyebrows. “A fascinating possibility, but there might be something else. Please, Colonel Ehrhoff, despite my earlier impatience, I appreciate your assistance in this. But I have one more question: what did Pohlmann do in North Africa?”

  “He was involved in troop movements, keeping track of the Legion liaison group. The group’s job was to determine which legionnaires were serving with the Germans where and when so that their time with the Germans would count as time served and to ensure that they would get paid or honoured by the Legion in case they were killed, wounded, or captured.”

  “So Pohlmann would know who all the legionnaires were who served in the Wehrmacht, even those who did not wish to be legionnaires again.”

  Ehrhoff nodded.

  Neumann quickly stood up to attention and saluted Ehrhoff. He then offered his thanks and left the tent, quickly followed by Aachen and the group of guards. Ehrhoff stayed in his tent and drank his tea.

  24.

  Neumann and Aachen left the legionnaire hut and headed east. As per usual Neumann led the way. The two weaved their way between the barracks. When they came around the corner of one, they ran into a group of Canadian gophers. This squad of Veterans Guards were given the duty of searching for tunnels in the camp. If they found any, they were also tasked with searching these tunnels for any prisoner or contraband as well as destroying the tunnels once their searches were completed.

  This group of gophers numbered four and it seemed they had found a tunnel underneath one of the barracks. One of the Canadians grabbed a flashlight from a pack and looked to be heading into what appeared to be a narrow hole. They all turned to look at Neumann and Aachen as they came around the corner.

  The two Germans continued on their way, ignoring the Canadians. The gophers watched them for a moment and then turned back to their work once they realized Neumann and Aachen had nothing to do with the tunnel.

  Neumann and Aachen doubled-back, heading away from the gophers before turning back in a northwesterly direction.

  They found General Horcoff in his garden. They followed the same procedure of getting his attention and greeting him, a cough followed by salutes.

  Horcoff wiped his spade on his pant leg and gave the sergeant the kind of greeting an aristocrat would give to a favoured servant; he grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a friendly shake.

  “Sergeant Neumann, my good man. It’s good to see you again. The Canadians treated you well?”

  “They did, sir. They gave me my own place to sleep in for a few days. Very quiet, very soothing.”

  “I hope you are joking, Sergeant. I don’t think isolation would be very pleasant.”

  “For a long period of time, I agree it wouldn’t be, but for the time I was there, it was actually quite pleasant. I had the whole place to myself. No one to give me orders, no Corporal Aachen to follow me around and ask me questions.”

  “Don’t be so cocky, Sergeant Neumann,” Horcoff said with a smile and waggling a finger. “Without order there is only chaos. And without Corporal Aachen, I’m quite sure you would be lost.” Horcoff looked at Aachen and when he saw the large bruise and cut on his face, he frowned.

  “Looks like Aachen was a little lost without you, Sergeant. If he was a normal soldier I would give him a dressing down for brawling but Aachen isn’t the brawling type. What the hell happened to you, Corporal?”

  Aachen tried to find the words to explain what had happened to him but couldn’t. He stammered for a moment until Neumann came to his rescue.

  “The night the Canadians took me in their custody, Corporal Aachen was set up in the shower by a gang of masked thugs. They beat him and then tried to hang him.”

  “What!? That’s preposterous! I find that hard to believe. Aachen is one of the toughest men I know. No ordinary gang of thugs could take him on. Am I right, Aachen?”

  Aachen flushed, but he remained silent.

  “They weren’t your ordinary gang of thugs, General Horcoff,” Neumann said, trying to prevent the general from directly interacting with Aachen. “Corporal Aachen said they were experts. They wore him down over time and almost had him hanged and dead. Fortunately, he kept his cool, found a brief moment to act, and did so, breaking free of the noose.”

  “Of course he did. I told you no one gets the better of Aachen.”

  “But of course he did get a bit lucky. If it wasn’t for the alarm that night, they would have succeeded in hanging him.”

  “Good for him,” Horcoff said, turning to face Aachen. “Good for you, Aachen. I would hate to have to write a letter to your mother explaining how you died if these cowards got the better of you. Cowards, that’s what they are. Wearing masks! I dare say, what kind of German soldier wears a mask?”

  Horcoff thought of something and tapped his spade against his leg. “Well maybe they were not Germans. Maybe they were Canadians who decided to take some revenge on you by targeting your corporal here.”

  “While I’d like to believe most Germans are honourable men, the Canadians didn’t attack Aachen. That’s not really their style is it?”

  “Well it’s not really the German style either, is it, Sergeant? Despite what some may think, I believe we have fought this war in a honourable fashion.”

  “I wish I had your confidence in the Fatherland, General Horcoff, but to be honest, there are some Germans who do not behave honourably. And based on what Corporal Aachen told me, the people who attacked him, at least some of them, are easily identified as Germans.”

  “How do you mean? You said Aachen told you they were wearing masks didn’t you?” He turned to Aachen. “They were wearing masks, is that correct, Corporal?” the general demanded. “Didn’t you say that they were wearing masks?”

  Aachen nodded.

  “So how could you tell they were Germans?”

  Aachen said nothing, but Neumann spoke. “They did speak German, General.”

  “Many Canadians can speak German. I’ve talked to some of them myself. Excellent German, too. Sometimes even better than the German I hear in certain parts of the camp. So how they spoke tells us nothing. And I hope that’s not the only evidence you’re basing your assumption on, Corporal Aachen. I mean, I’m terribly sorry about what happened to you, but you can’t just make false accusations about these attackers being German just because of the language they speak, you have to have more to go on—”

  “—they had tattoos, General!” Aachen barked in frustration. “They had goddamn tattoos.”

  The general froze in surprise, not just at the tone of Aachen’s speech, but at the words he said. Horcoff looked at Aachen for a second, then turned to Neumann. Sighing, he dropped his spade on the ground. He looked about for it for several seconds, found it, but decided to leave it there. “You are sure about this?” he asked in a quiet
voice.

  “Very sure.”

  “I mean Corporal Aachen, Sergeant. I know you are trying to protect your subordinate but I need to know from him if this is true.”

  “It is true, General,” Aachen said. “I could recite to you the blood types I saw on the arms of these men. I also noted many scars and birthmarks on the bodies because while they were masked, they had stripped to the waist. We may have identified one as a submariner although Sergeant Neumann is quite sure there is no direct action from them as a group. Possibly a rogue sailor.”

  “This is good information that you can use for your investigation,” Horcoff said. “And am I right in assuming that you consider these thugs to be the same ones that killed Captain Mueller?”

  “Mueller was beaten and hanged, the same way Aachen was,” Neumann said. “Quite simply, Mueller did not fight back as strongly as the young corporal here, hence the fact that he is dead and Aachen is not. Aachen was also lucky the alarm went off to distract them.”

  “There you go. But considering what you said about these men’s tattoos, dealing with this will prove to be very delicate,” Horcoff said. He started picking the heads off some of the flowers of his plants, slowly, one at time. “Very delicate indeed.”

  “And more suited to the work of a general than a lowly sergeant. Your hand would be more delicate in these matters, sir.”

  “Yes, I believe you are correct on this,” Horcoff said, still picking the flowers and tossing them aside. “However, even with my delicate hand it’s not going to be easy. Things are changing in this camp, especially since the invasion. Certain people are concerned with a so-called lack of discipline in the camp and diminished enthusiasm towards the German war effort, given our recent setbacks. There’s been talk of clamping down on traitors, which is probably why Captain Mueller was killed. Because of his Bolshevik leanings, he was probably set upon and used as an example to others who may have been speaking out against the war effort.”

  “That is a good theory, General, one that could stand if we find the people who did this.” Neumann stepped back, touched some of the plants in the garden and then brought his hand to his face to smell the aroma. “But that doesn’t explain the legionnaire and his involvement.”

  Horcoff was so taken aback by that statement that he accidentally crushed one of the plants he was delicately trying to remove the flower from. He pulled the plant out of his hand and tossed it on the ground. He blinked several times, confusion on his face. “Legionnaires? What do the legionnaires have to do with this? Despite their mixed loyalties, they don’t seem like the kind to beat and hang men. Besides, these men who attacked Aachen had SS tattoos. There is no way the SS would let in anyone who had the slightest connection to the Legion.”

  “That’s where it gets confusing, General,” said Neumann. “As you know, there was an escape a few nights ago. And the man who escaped was a legionnaire, which is nothing in and of itself except that while Aachen, myself, and Dr. Kleinjeld were in the classroom with Mueller’s body trying to conduct a forensic investigation, we stumbled upon this soldier, who proceeded to flee. We chased him down, following him to the legionnaire hut where he disappeared. Fortunately, after a bit of a tussle, I managed to have a conversation with a Colonel Ehrhoff who—”

  “—Ehrhoff? You talked to Colonel Ehrhoff? How is that possible?” the general said with surprise.

  Neumann paused and gave the general a quizzical look. Horcoff’s face was white, his eyes wide. “Are you okay, General? You look like you’ve overexerted yourself? Or maybe you’ve seen a ghost? Are you sure you don’t want to sit down? Maybe some water. Aachen get the general some water.”

  Corporal Aachen turned to find some water but the general called him back. “No, no, I’m fine,” the general said, shaking his head and gaining some of his composure. “Are you sure you said it was Colonel Ehrhoff? The legionnaire you talked to?”

  “Yes, that was the name he gave me. Strange man.”

  “What did he look like?”

  Neumann described the man, and soon the general nodded. His mind seemed to be somewhere else. “Yes, that’s him,” he said in an offhand way.

  “Do you know the man, General?” Neumann asked.

  “Vaguely, only vaguely,” Horcoff said with a wave. “I knew of him in North Africa. He was the commander of a battalion of infantry and tanks and a number of times we had to coordinate our actions. Good commander—he knew how to move easily through the desert, which is one reason why Rommel used the German legionnaires. They knew the terrain, knew the people, and more importantly, knew how to survive in that climate. Although I had heard he was killed in action in Wadi Akarit, which is why I reacted the way I did.”

  “Well, I’m glad to be the bearer of good news, General. You should visit him,” suggested Neumann.

  “No reason for that. I didn’t know him well enough and old commanders don’t like to talk about the battles they’ve lost. Too maudlin for my liking. I’d rather just stay with my garden. But this legionnaire you were chasing, did you catch him?”

  “No sir, we did not. And that’s why I mentioned it. The man we were chasing was the same man who escaped, which I find a little too coincidental for my liking, especially since I had arranged with Colonel Ehrhoff to interview this man.”

  “He probably thought you were going to accuse him of murdering Captain Mueller and decided to flee.”

  “Possibly, but I specifically told Colonel Ehrhoff that I only wanted to question him, and that I wouldn’t really look at him as a suspect until I had a chance to talk to him.”

  General Horcoff placed a hand on Neumann’s shoulder and gave him a couple of friendly slaps. “Listen, Sergeant Neumann, I think you’re reading too much into this legionnaire thing. Obviously, the man thought you were going to accuse him, thought he would be used as some type of scapegoat, thought he would be charged and then found guilty of Mueller’s death, which would not be quite as impossible as it seems, given the situation facing the camp at this time.”

  “I would never do such a thing, General. It is my job to look at all the facts and determine the truth. I have never in my life brought someone to trial if I didn’t have all the evidence pointing at that person.”

  “That’s because you’re an honourable man, Sergeant,” said the general. “But you yourself said there are some in this camp who aren’t so honourable, the kind who would wear masks to attack someone like Corporal Aachen and use this poor legionnaire as a whipping boy. So I would forget this legionnaire if I were you.”

  “I would like to interview this man when the Canadians bring him back.”

  “Yes, yes, talk to this man if you must,” the general said, somewhat impatiently. “However, if he is caught, there’s a good chance they may not bring him back here, especially if he gets far enough away; they may just transfer him to the closest camp to where he is captured. And if they do bring him back, he’ll be in isolation for a long time. Either way, it’s a dead end, Sergeant, so I would highly suggest that you focus your efforts on the people who attacked Corporal Aachen. Based on what you said about the attack, it sounds very similar to what happened to Captain Mueller. However, that may become a dead end as well, considering who was involved in this. So like I said before, you will have to tread carefully in this. And, like with this legionnaire, you may have to discontinue your investigation for your own good.”

  25.

  Neumann led Aachen back to the barracks. Along the way, he found Corporal Knaup as well as seven other Wehrmacht soldiers from their company back in North Africa and bade them to come with him.

  Most of them were big men, soldiers who had fought hard in the desert. And since they all knew the sergeant from North Africa, they immediately dropped what they were doing and followed.

  He took them into their hut, gathering them into a circle by his bunk. “Gentlemen, thanks for coming when I asked. I
know it’s been awhile since we’ve had any kind of assignment so I appreciate your attention. I need you all to get your dress uniforms from your bunk. Clean them up, polish your buttons, shine your boots. You have one hour.”

  The men looked at each other, confused. “I said you have one hour,” Neumann barked. “Go.”

  The men scrambled away. All except Aachen who sat on his bunk. “Where are we going, Sergeant Neumann?”

  “You are going nowhere, Corporal Aachen.”

  “I insist, Sergeant. You haven’t undertaken a mission without me backing you up. I’m not going to let that start now.”

  “You are part of this mission, Corporal, just not this section. I need you to wait for me in a detention room. Have it ready for an interrogation.”

  Aachen shook his head. “They aren’t going to like it, you know that.”

  “That’s why I’m bringing a group of well-dressed Wehrmacht soldiers to help me. I’m going to make an impression.” Neumann pulled out his duffel bag and started to dig through it for his dress uniform, medals, and boots. When he found the items he needed, he threw them on the bed next to Aachen.

  “You’re going to start another war, you know that,” Aachen said, sitting up to get out of the way of the gear flying his way.