Jan

by Peter Haden

  They were, as Günther pointed out to his wife, safe for the time being. ‘But for how long?’

  Chapter 21

  Jan could only watch as first Hedda and then Tadzio were shoved roughly onto the back of the lorry. The rest of the Germans retreated, stepping backwards to the vehicle, rifles no longer in the aim but still waist high and pointing at him. As the last man climbed up two of them already on board moved to cover him. Unarmed, he could do nothing as the vehicle reversed then drove off down the track leading to the main road half a kilometre away.

  As soon as it was out of sight, he raced round the back of the farmhouse towards the copse, shouting for Józek Kowalski. To his dismay, there was no reply nor any sign of the partisans. They must have retreated to avoid the Germans. Defeated, shoulders slumped, he started back towards the house. Halfway there he stopped as a stutter of gunfire echoed from the direction of the road. It was over quickly – probably no more than fifteen or twenty rounds. Frantic with fear for Tadzio and Hedda, he broke into a run. Perhaps the Mosin-Nagant… but as soon as he reached the yard, he was startled to see the German lorry drive in from the track. The windows were shattered. He need not have worried – a grinning Kowalski was at the wheel with Hedda and Tadzio beside him in the cab.

  All three jumped down. ‘Co się stało?’ asked Jan anxiously. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Wszystko dobrze, it’s all right,’ Tadzio sought to reassure him. ‘Jesteśmy bezpieczni, we’re safe.’

  ‘I brought a few more men with me,’ explained Józek. ‘As well as myself, and the sentry that came to the farmhouse, I left a stop group hidden in the trees near the end of the track. When we heard the lorry park up on the other side of the house, we moved from the copse so that we could have sight of the yard. It was obvious what was happening, so as soon as they started to arrest Hedda and Tadzio, we raced back to the stop group, then ambushed the lorry whilst it was still on the track by firing at the cab. It’s still driveable, and the rest of my men took out the soldiers in the back. Hedda and Tadzio had the good sense to dive to the floor. All Germans are accounted for.’ His thumb indicated over his shoulder. ‘The bodies are on the lorry.’

  Jan saw a steady drip of blood falling into the yard. ‘We’ll take the weapons and ammo,’ Józek went on. ‘And the uniforms as well – they could be really useful some time in the future. But we must get rid of the bodies. If the Germans find them stripped, they will guess that partisans were responsible. And we also have to get rid of the lorry – we can torch it somewhere well away from the farm.’

  ‘How will you get rid of the bodies?’ asked Hedda.

  ’Moglibyśmy dać ich świniom,’ Józek replied with a grim smile, ‘We could feed them to the pigs, they would eat the lot, bones and all. But I think I would rather bury them – they won’t be found. Besides, much as I like pork, I don’t fancy dead-German-flavoured offal! The lorry we’ll set alight separate from the bodies and also a few kilometres from here.’

  ‘But the Germans will know where the patrol was going,’ put in Jan. ‘Surely there’s bound to be some sort of follow-up.’

  ‘Let’s go inside and talk this through,’ suggested Kowalski. ‘The sentry and stop group are still out there, but it’ll be dark soon. I don’t suppose anything else is going to happen today – the Germans are too scared of us partisans to risk operating at night.’

  With the three men seated at the table, Hedda produced another bottle of bimber. At least, thanks to her bartering, they had a decent supply, even if it was homemade potato stuff rather than the upmarket grain. But frankly, after what had happened, right now they all needed a drink.

  ‘Według mnie, the way I see it,’ Jan opened, ‘the Germans in Chojdnice know that Hedda is half-Jewish. They also know that a patrol was sent out here never to return, regardless of where the remains of a burnt-out lorry are found. They are also suspicious of anyone who might be able to support the local partisans. To my mind, that’s quite a lot of evidence, albeit circumstantial. So far, my cover is intact, but I’m not sure how safe it would be if the three of us were to stay on at the farm.’

  ‘I can get my man to radio for instructions,’ Józek offered, ‘now that he is trained up and you have given him the radio. But I think you are right. Sooner or later, the Germans are going to come back to the farm, and with a lorry and a section of men missing, you are going to find it very hard to convince them that you are innocent.

  ‘And there’s another aspect to all this,’ the partisan leader went on. ‘Until now, we have been reasonably close to the farm. But the old camp is in an area that is not nearly as deeply forested as the new one much further south. So not only is our dependence on this farm less important, because we can establish similar contacts nearer the new base, but as and when the Germans put in their own management, it will be almost impossible for you to support us anyway. Frankly, I think it would be safer for all of us if we closed down here and set up elsewhere.’

  He drained his glass and waited for their reaction. They sat in silence for several seconds, till Hedda stood to refill their glasses.

  ‘He’s right,’ she offered at length. ‘Jan, we could radio for you to have a pick-up. But Tadzio and I will not be safe if we stay here. It looks as though we shall have to move to the forest.’ She looked towards Józek, who nodded his agreement.

  Jan thought long and hard. ‘Powinniśmy trzymać się razem,’ he said eventually. ‘We should stay together. I’m not going to risk a pick-up in the field that would only take one person anyway, and neither do I intend to cut and run leaving you two with the partisans. I think we should all try to reach England. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t both be made welcome,’ he went on. ‘Tadzio could join the Army if he wanted to. You, Hedda, with your fluency in both languages, would be invaluable – either to the intelligence or broadcasting services. What do you think?’

  ‘First, we have to get there,’ Tadzio put in bluntly. ‘I don’t mind leaving the farm, because if the Germans want it to be productive, they will need the house and barn anyway, so they should be all right. Quite honestly, we can worry about this place after the war – or not, as the case may be.’

  ‘We can sort out the stock,’ said Józek. ‘I doubt the Germans will be back any time too soon, so first thing tomorrow morning we could slaughter some and drive off the rest. I could bring more men back at daybreak, plus a few pack horses, and by mid-morning we could be well away from here.’

  ‘I don’t think any of us should stay in the cottage tonight,’ Jan opined. ‘The risk is small, but not one that I would like to take.’

  ‘Zgadzam się,’ said Hedda. ‘Agreed, so what do we do – move into the forest with Józek and his men?’

  I have another idea,’ Jan offered. ‘But first, if we three leave,’ he asked Kowalski, ‘can you and your men get rid of the evidence in the yard – just in case everything doesn’t work out for us?’

  ‘Jasne, can do,’ the Pole affirmed. ‘As I said, we’ll keep the weapons and uniforms – both are bound to come in handy at some stage. But if you are not coming into the forest with us,’ he asked, ‘what on earth are you planning to do?’

  ‘I have an idea for getting us home,’ said Jan, ‘or at least back to England, which is the only home on offer right now. Also, I have good contacts who might well be willing to help us. In the meantime, if the Germans are searching for us in Poland, we’ll go to the one place where they won’t think of looking. They have invaded our country. So, we’ll hide in theirs.

  ‘Right,’ said Jan, sensing that he needed to take charge. ‘Józek, will your stop group warn us if any more Germans turn up?’ he queried.

  ‘Already set up,’ the Pole confirmed.

  ‘Hedda, you unearth all the weapons and equipment that we have on the farm and pile it on the kitchen table. Also, we need a few clothes and about twenty-four hours’ worth of food and water to take
with us. Put everything on the kitchen table. What we don’t need, we can leave for the partisans.’

  ‘What are you and Tadzio going to do?’ she asked.

  ‘Osiodłamy Karego i Huzara,’ he told her. ‘Saddle Kary and Huzar. Then we need to fashion a couple of packs for a few clothes – my old parachute bag will do for one. The sooner we are away from here, the happier I shall be.’

  It took an hour, but by last light the horses were loaded and ready. Tadzio would not be parted from the Mosin-Nagant, which he strapped to the side of Kary’s saddle, but he shouldered a Schmeisser from their, by now, considerable hoard. Jan and Hedda each took a Schmeisser and a Walther, together with several spare magazines. Jan tossed a couple to his brother. ‘If we are stopped, we’ll have to fight our way out,’ he voiced aloud. ‘There is no way the Germans are going to let us live, not with what we are carrying. If it’s all right with you, Józek,’ he turned for confirmation, ‘we’ll take these and leave everything else for you.’

  Józek confirmed that it was. They made a hasty cold meal of what was left in the larder and by nightfall the farm – the family home for so many generations – was deserted.

  Jan insisted that Hedda ride Huzar whilst he and Tadzio led the two horses. Jan took the lead, with Tadzio well behind – if they were surprised, this would give at least some chance of survival. It was a clear night, with fortunately only a waning quarter moon, but, in any case, Jan was confident of the route. By midnight they were on the other side of the border – the ground still churned up from September, he noticed. And by first light they were on the Raschdorf estate.

  Here they stopped a half-kilometre from the main house amidst a few brambles and trees. Hedda produced a breakfast from their rations and a bottle of wódka – she had salvaged three from her larder. ‘We can’t have a hot drink,’ she offered, ‘and it’s been a long, cold night – not without its dangers. We have made it this far, let’s at least drink to that.’

  Leaving Tadzio and Hedda huddled together, Jan moved on foot towards the house and barn complex. He was astounded by what he saw – a once single workshop building, above which he had lived happily for almost three years, was now a huge extended repair facility with an acre of hard standing partly covered in a motley selection of military vehicles and machinery, some damaged, others pristine and freshly painted, clearly ready to be returned to the front. The whole facility was surrounded by a high fence topped with inward-sloping barbed wire. Thinking quickly, he retreated back up the lane towards the village and settled behind a hedge, hoping to intercept Johann.

  He normally started work at half past seven. It was a dismal morning – not that cold, but dank and miserable. Hands in pockets, his jacket buttoned up, Johann was astounded to hear someone softly call his name. Sensing that it had come from behind, he turned back towards the village. Jan stood, slowly, above the hedge.

  ‘Mein Gott, Jan!’ he whispered. ‘Is that really you?’

  ‘It’s good to see you, my dear friend,’ Jan replied without thinking, for despite the discrepancy of years this was how he thought of the old engineer. ‘And yes,’ he added, ‘it’s really me.’

  ‘Was machst du hier?’ he asked, absolutely incredulous.

  ‘I’m not alone,’ Jan told him. ‘I have my brother and a German lady with me. I can explain later, but we are refugees. I desperately need to talk to Herr Raschdorf, if that’s still possible?’

  ‘Ja, ja, he’s still here. But things are not the same as when you left. There are more Germans and some of your countrymen – forced to labour. You should not come any nearer to the house or workshop.’ He thought for a minute. ‘Tell me, where are you now, and I can go and speak with the Boss?’

  ‘Two fields back, in the copse,’ said Jan.

  ‘Best wait there,’ said the old engineer. ‘I’ll make sure everything is set up at the workshop, then take a walk up to the big house. I often do that of a morning, so no-one will think anything of it. Don’t use the phone much these days,’ he added, ‘we are not sure how secure it is. Go back to your companions – I think you’ll find that Herr Raschdorf will be along within the hour.’

  They watched as Günther cantered Alger gently across the field, now fallow, small clods of turf flicking up behind the big thoroughbred. He reined in at the edge of the copse, and swung his right leg over the horse, sliding down over the saddle on his stomach with the ease of a lifetime’s experience and landing lightly on his toes. Jan, with Tadzio and Hedda behind him, emerged into the field.

  Jan offered his hand. Günther ignored it and threw his arms round his former apprentice. ‘We can never thank you enough for what you did for us, taking Renate to safety,’ he said emotionally. He stepped back, still holding Jan but at arm’s length by the shoulders. ‘Scheiße, you have put on some weight and muscle,’ he exclaimed, looking Jan up and down. He turned quickly to Hedda, ‘please excuse my language, Fraulein,’ he said, ‘but I am astounded to see Jan again and looking so different.’

  She extended a hand. ‘My name’s Hedda – I’m with Tadzio,’ she said simply in her beautiful contralto Hochdeutsch.

  Smiling, he took her hand but inverted it, bowed and brushed with his lips. ‘Delighted,’ he said, with natural old-world charm. ‘Good to see you again too, Tadzio,’ he added.

  ‘Please, we need to talk,’ Jan broke in urgently. ‘And we have two horses with us. I should tell you also that as well as a few personal items we have weapons and ammunition.’

  Günther thought for a few seconds. ‘Do you remember the old woodman’s cottage, right on the edge of the estate next to the forest?’ he asked. Jan confirmed that he did. It was the most isolated building on the property and had a small barn to the rear of the plot.

  ‘Nobody goes there these days,’ Günther went on, ‘but it’s safe and secluded. Not in a perfect state of repair, but habitable. You could be warm and dry. I’ll need to go back to the house but I can bring over a few basics. Can you meet me there in about an hour?’

  Jan confirmed that they could. They put the horses in the barn and waited off to one side in the trees, weapons ready just in case. But fifty minutes later Günther was as good as his word. He approached down the single, dead-end track driving a Kübelwagen that lurched and bounced over the ruts. ‘Borrowed it,’ he announced without further explanation. Piled high on the seats were blankets and cardboard boxes, the latter, according to Günther, containing food and drink plus a few household items such as soap, two paraffin lamps, a can of fuel, and boxes of matches. There was also an axe, plus a sack of feed for the horses and a bucket for water. ‘Plenty of dry timber on the ground,’ said Günther, ‘but you can cut more for the nights it you need to – if you must, use green timber, no-one will see the smoke once it’s dark.’

  The cottage was basic – a kitchen/living room, two bedrooms and a well and pump in the back yard for water. But it was still furnished with a table and chairs and Hedda found pots and pans in the kitchen cupboard. For now, they sat round the table whilst Jan recounted their story. He gave Günther a brief account of the journey with Renate, but glossed over the rest by saying that he had been back in Poland by design rather than accident. The meaning was well taken, but drew only a slow inclination of the head by way of understanding. Jan felt confident that he could trust his former employer, who had little enough reason to support the present German regime.

  ‘So that’s it, Sir,’ he concluded. ‘We need to get out of Germany and, if we can, to England. I have a few ideas but I’m hoping that Johann might be able to help. As a start, perhaps we could take ship for Sweden – even if we must stow away. After that, I have the contacts to help us on our way.’

  ‘All right,’ said Günther. ‘I have a lot of thinking to do and I shall need to talk to Johann – he can be trusted, he’s helped me before,’ he added without explanation. ‘Stay here for the night – for as long as you wish, in fact. It’s so isol
ated you should be perfectly safe, although I wouldn’t stray too far. All being well, I’ll be back in the morning, but it won’t be first thing.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir,’ said Jan, his voice heavy with relief.

  ‘I think we are a bit past the apprentice stage now, Herr Janicki,’ said Günther with a smile that embraced all three of them. ‘Call me Günther.

  ‘Bis Morgen,’ he concluded, pushing back his chair.

  ‘Till tomorrow, then,’ Jan replied, reluctant to use his former employer’s Christian name.

  As the Kübelwagen disappeared down the track they lifted the boxes on to the table. Jan wondered if Frau Raschdorf had helped her husband to put the provisions together, or whether Frau Brantis had been taken into their confidence. Either way, they found a supply of stacked timber behind the cottage and soon had a good fire going in the primitive range. The beds had palliasses but they were very damp. Hedda brushed off the mould with her hands and a couple of hours propped in front of a roaring fire pretty much dried them out. At least the blankets that Günther had supplied were aired. Whilst the men fed the horses and settled them for the night, Hedda filled the lamps and inspected the supplies. One box contained only a few bottles of beer, some wine and spirits and three tumblers, which Günther had obviously guessed would not be in the cottage.

  After some discussion, they decided against a sentry system – Jan felt confident that no one would give away their presence. As dusk was falling Hedda lit one of the lamps and they dined – almost royally – on a cold leg of honey-roasted ham with buttered cabbage and potatoes baked over the ashes of the fire. They took their weapons into the bedrooms, but after a night without sleep and a stressful day they slept safely and soundly till daybreak.