Love for a Soldier

by Mary Jane Staples

After seven or eight minutes, Major Kirsten and Elissa reappeared. Making their way back through the copse, they were still unhurried in their walk, still talking in a light and affectionate way, and they passed the screen of shrubs without any change of pace or attitude. A couple of minutes later they had left the retreat.

  Captain Marsh finally spoke.

  ‘What the devil was that all about?’ he said.

  ‘A lovers’ walk,’ said Sophia, her breathing painful.

  ‘You think so? What were they talking about?’

  ‘Nothing that was of any importance except to themselves.’

  ‘And when they almost bumped into us last night? What were they talking about then?’ Captain Marsh sounded edgy.

  ‘What does it matter?’ said Sophia, then remembered the conversation last night had been very different. But wanting no trouble, no exacerbation of a situation already painful enough, she added, ‘They are obviously only interested in each other.’

  ‘Well, I wish they’d indulge their mutual interest a lot farther away from me,’ said Captain Marsh, getting to his feet. ‘It’s too much of a coincidence finding them at the auberge, then that place just outside Lutargne, and now here. Damned if they don’t seem to be sitting on my tail. They’ve been riding around in that car all day.’

  ‘Isn’t that what lovers like to do?’ asked Sophia, rising.

  ‘In March? With the hood down?’

  ‘What difference does that make to people in love?’ Sophia was as edgy as he was.

  ‘If I were in love, I’d prefer a cosy fireside and a warm sofa.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ve never been in love,’ said Sophia stiffly. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Once or twice,’ he said.

  ‘Once or twice? Once or twice?’ Sophia smiled mirthlessly. ‘That couldn’t have been love.’

  He looked sombrely at her. Their eyes met again. Hers were very blue, his were dark grey. The agitation seized her, and she averted her face.

  ‘No, it wasn’t,’ he said. He frowned. ‘I’m going to check on your friends.’

  He walked to the west side of the copse, Sophia following. They stood in shelter and from there they watched. Sophia saw Major Kirsten and the woman he had called Elissa. They had just reached their car. They got in, and after a few moments drove away.

  ‘They’re going back to Headquarters,’ said Sophia. ‘I heard the woman say she had to be on her way soon.’

  ‘If Major Kirsten had been given the chance, would he have escorted you back to your father or helped you reach Fritz?’

  ‘He would have been loyal to my father and I’d have quarrelled with him. That is why I’m still with you, even though we both dislike the situation. What are you going to do now?’

  Captain Marsh gave her a faint smile. She was an enduring young woman. She was neither haggard nor limp, despite so much discomfort. Nor was she complaining. But she was hungry.

  ‘Well, since there’s nothing much else to do while we wait for evening,’ he said, ‘I’ll finish skinning that rabbit, then make a fire and cook it. We can clean it in the stream on the other side of the wood.’

  ‘You have your better moments,’ said Sophia.

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ he asked with another smile.

  She turned her back on him.

  ‘I’ll collect some kindling,’ she said.

  Captain Vorster, sitting in Douai, was out of the hunt, and the combined search parties were miles away. Major Kirsten and Elissa alone had prospects of success.

  After driving away from the vicinity of the copse, they had stopped immediately they were out of sight of it.

  ‘I’m relieved we came safely out of the place,’ said Major Kirsten.

  ‘You were worried?’ said Elissa, putting it mildly.

  ‘I was when I realized they were actually there.’

  ‘You did not seem worried.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have placed you at such risk,’ he said.

  ‘Major, I volunteered,’ said Elissa.

  ‘And played your part excellently. I must apologize, however, for all the embarrassment it caused you. But we had to investigate and I thought that was the only way of doing it innocuously.’

  ‘Please don’t apologize,’ said Elissa.

  ‘You’ve earned a decoration,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘Of flowers. Did you actually see them, by the way?’

  ‘No. I only heard them. It was a very small sound.’

  ‘Yes, I heard it too, and glimpsed feet.’

  ‘Feet?’

  ‘Two pairs,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘And a half-skinned rabbit.’

  ‘Herr Major, the shot we heard –’

  ‘One dead rabbit, Elissa. They’re hungry.’

  ‘So am I,’ said Elissa.

  ‘We’ll dine in Douai, perhaps. Do you think we deceived our lunatic into believing we were unaware of them?’

  ‘I think we must remember that although he seems crazy, he’s not an idiot,’ said Elissa.

  ‘I agree. So what I’d like you to do now is drive to Douai. Explain to Colonel Hoffner that I’d like the immediate assistance of a few men. I’ll stay here.’

  ‘You aren’t intending anything rash, I hope,’ said Elissa.

  ‘I intend only to walk back far enough to keep an eye on the place. If they leave, I’ll mark their direction, but I don’t think they will leave until it’s near to dark. You should be back well before then. Be charming to Colonel Hoffner, but not so charming that he’ll prolong your stay. Tell him six or seven men will be enough.’

  Elissa smiled. One warmed very easily to Major Kirsten. He was enjoying himself, playing a game of cat and mouse against the background of war, escaping his desk and his weariness of the war. Whether he really believed Sophia von Feldermann had allied herself with the British fighter pilot or was under constant threat from him, she did not know. But he had found out where she was, and was determined not to lose her but to separate her from the man in the safest way he could devise. He would not send Colonel Hoffner’s men in firing from all angles. He would be more subtle than that.

  ‘Major, I’ve just thought, why not ask for help from those repair workshops?’

  ‘I can’t approach them without being seen, and I can’t bring men out of there without so alarming our fugitives that they’ll vanish again. No, let them sit where they are for the moment. I know you’ll bring Colonel Hoffner’s men close enough without one of them being seen. Make for the point where we stopped before.’ Major Kirsten got out of the car. ‘Off you go, Lieutenant.’

  ‘Yes, Major,’ said Elissa, ‘but I hope you’ll take sensible care of yourself.’

  ‘All old soldiers have an instinct for self-preservation,’ said Major Kirsten, ‘which means getting the other man before he gets you.’

  He watched her drive off. The afternoon was advancing. He turned and began to circle back to a concealed position from which he could keep careful watch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE FIRE BECAME a heap of hot, grey-white ashes. The rabbit had been roasted and eaten, Captain Marsh having cut the meat free with a penknife. Sophia had dined ravenously. They had washed their hands in the stream and drunk from it.

  ‘Roast rabbit is good,’ said Sophia.

  ‘Anything edible is good to the starving,’ said Captain Marsh.

  ‘You are a man who can survive, I think,’ she said.

  ‘If I am, then you have similar qualities. And what are we to look forward to? A better world, according to our prime minister.’

  ‘Better for you or for us?’ asked Sophia.

  ‘Better for everyone, if you can believe politicians.’

  ‘There was nothing very wrong with the one I was living in before you went to war against us,’ said Sophia.

  ‘But you were far more prepared for it than we were.’

  ‘Are you proud that your sea blockade is starving millions of women and children?’

  ‘No prouder than you are about bombing women and
children from your Zeppelins.’

  ‘That’s a lie,’ said Sophia. ‘Our Zeppelins only attack your military installations.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I dislike you,’ said Sophia.

  ‘I don’t dislike you.’

  ‘In the way you’ve acted, you’ve proved yourself very self-centred.’

  ‘Is that a nice thing to say after I’ve just given you the best cuts and larger share of my rabbit?’

  ‘I consider that remark petty and untrue. In any case, it was as much my rabbit as yours.’

  ‘I shot it,’ said Captain Marsh.

  ‘But I was the one who saw it first.’

  ‘Were you? I thought I was.’

  ‘Are you enjoying this ridiculous conversation?’

  ‘Yes, very much. And I don’t think it ridiculous.’

  ‘Don’t be patronizing,’ said Sophia, feverishly determined to keep a necessary gulf between them. ‘That is as objectionable to me as your brutality.’

  ‘You’re not going to forgive me?’

  ‘Never,’ said Sophia, then remembered again the dark, icy canal and the way he had risked sliding into it with her. She remembered the strength of his body and its life-saving firmness and warmth. She bit her lip. ‘Captain Marsh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Although there have been unpleasant moments which I’d rather forget, I think I understand what you are doing. Perhaps in the circumstances you were entitled to make your own rules.’

  ‘I think I was entitled to take possession of your car,’ he said, ‘but not of you.’

  Sophia looked at the ashes of the fire. There were no flames in which to draw pictures, pictures of Fritz. Fritz, incredibly, was a retreating image. Had he too been no more than a temporary enthusiasm of hers? Her mother would have said so. Were all her enthusiasms born only of instinctive rebellion against the lifestyles of the Junkers? Fiercely, she tried to conjure up a soul-saving picture of Fritz. All she achieved was a picture pale and meaningless. She glanced at Captain Marsh. Sitting with his back against a tree, he was making one of his many surveys of the fields and that pitted little road. His features were strongly masculine, his vigour apparent even when he was still. He did not have Fritz’s gaiety or charm. He was a harder man than Fritz. Fritz was amusing. Captain Marsh was resolute.

  ‘You’re still going to wait until it’s dark before you move?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking, and I know I’m not too happy about your Major Kirsten and his lady friend. What was the point of them coming in here to make eyes at each other? Had it been to make love –’

  ‘Don’t be disgusting. Major Kirsten is not a man to act like a peasant.’

  ‘Even so, it’s wishful thinking to believe they weren’t aware of us.’

  ‘Then why didn’t he try to arrest you?’

  ‘Because he must know I’m armed.’

  ‘You’d shoot a brave soldier like Major Kirsten, a one-armed man with a damaged eye?’

  ‘I suppose he’d shoot me if he had to.’

  ‘But would you have shot him?’ asked Sophia in strange anguish.

  ‘No. I’m not as desperate as that.’

  ‘You had your revolver ready.’

  ‘Yes. For the sake of advantage. Just the advantage, that’s all. I’m going to get out of here very soon and cut across the road and the fields. There’s a long belt of trees adjacent to those workshops. I’ll risk that no one will think I’m sitting within striking distance of a Luftwaffe repair establishment. I’ll stay there until it’s dark, and then go on.’

  In a strained voice, Sophia said, ‘We’ll both go on. I shall lose my way otherwise.’

  ‘No, you won’t. Skirt the far end of the workshops’ perimeter and keep going. You’ll come to the main road –’

  ‘I’m not going on my own. I have no confidence in the dark.’

  ‘Are you sure of all this?’ said Captain Marsh gently.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m not sure myself that you’re really sure.’

  ‘How many times must we argue about this?’ Sophia got up, moved away, came back after a moment and said, ‘Until you’re ready for us to move, tell me what life was like for you before the war.’

  ‘My father’s a country parson,’ said Captain Marsh.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That is the story of your life up to the war?’ said Sophia.

  ‘More or less. Christian upbringing and rural pastimes. Grammar school in a Wiltshire country town, and holidays in the hayfields. Vicarage tea parties on Sunday afternoons.’ Captain Marsh did not mind talking, although he remained alert. His two sisters entered the nursing profession and his brother, receiving the call, was admitted to a theological college to train for his orders. He himself, at seventeen, began to study farming. His father, recognizing he had a practical turn of mind, cajoled various Wiltshire farmers into paying him seven shillings a week to work from dawn to dusk. However, he became far more interested in the wheels of the industry than in the soil. The carts, the wains, the tools, the equipment and the machines of farming were his field.

  He occasionally liked to handle a plough, but his bent was mechanical, and motorized farm machines fascinated him. Just before the war, when he was twenty-five, he had used some savings to purchase a blacksmith’s business in a small market town, together with a derelict warehouse next door. The old blacksmith had died, and his assistant, Simon Tukes, did not have the money to buy the business for himself. Simon, however, had been given a quarter-ownership and a wage to run the forge, while the warehouse was to be converted into a workshop for the repair and maintenance of mechanized transport. Motor lorries and other vehicles were beginning to take the place of horse-drawn carts and wagons.

  The development of the workshop had been halted by the war, but he was certain business would be there for the asking when peace arrived. The smithy would still be needed, very much so, and that and what would come to be an automobile garage, with a petrol pump, would mean that both the mechanical and horse-drawn trade could be catered for. He and Simon Tukes would run both businesses. He forecast an impressive postwar development of the automobile industry, and an increasing need for garages.

  ‘Do you mean you will crawl about under broken-down cars as a way of life after the war?’ asked Sophia in astonishment.

  ‘As a way of establishing a profitable business. I’m certain I can’t fail.’

  ‘But will you like it?’ Sophia had never heard any officer talk of running such a business as that. ‘So much dirt and oil and grease?’

  ‘Naturally, I’ll like it. I wouldn’t consider it otherwise.’

  She stared at him in amazement. Repairing motor cars was work for people who were no good at anything else, or had no profession. One was aware of such people, and their usefulness, but she had never known any gentlemen take on that kind of work.

  ‘But what would happen if you married?’ she asked.

  ‘You mean how would my wife like me crawling under cars and getting dirty?’

  ‘Would she like it?’

  ‘Not if I asked her to crawl under with me. But I hope she’d look at my prospects, not my overalls.’

  ‘You don’t have a fiancée?’ said Sophia, studying discarded rabbit bones.

  ‘I’ve been a little too busy these last four years,’ he said. ‘I was in Mesopotamia until late 1917, flying against your allies, the Turks, which I admit was not quite so hazardous as flying against Richtofen. I was transferred to France a few months ago, since when I’ve died a death a dozen times, but I’m still hanging on. Richtofen kept after me yesterday, because he had me going the wrong way over his territory. You saw what happened. Does your Fritz fly with Richtofen?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought so.’ Captain Marsh was impressed. ‘He must be very good, then.’

  ‘All Richtofen’s pilots are among the best,’ said Sophia. ‘Captain Marsh, are you sure y
ou’re going to be a blacksmith and a car repairer after the war?’

  ‘You don’t think much of it?’ he said, watching the road through the trees.

  ‘But you’re a gentleman, aren’t you?’ she said.

  He laughed.

  ‘Have I behaved like one?’

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Then is your question answered?’

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘I see. I suppose what you really want to know is whether my background entitles me to be classed as a gentleman. It doesn’t. I’m simply known as a parson’s son. That entitles me to be called respectable, like a farmer’s son.’

  ‘All German officers are gentlemen,’ said Sophia.

  Captain Marsh coughed.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he said.

  ‘None of them would—’ She stopped.

  ‘Brutalize you?’

  ‘I have told you – I would prefer to forget that.’

  ‘Frankly, so would I. It’s on my conscience. However, what’s your life been like?’

  ‘Unexceptional,’ said Sophia, ‘until I met Fritz. I’ve spent most of my years learning how to take my future place as a good German wife and mother.’

  ‘I see. And that had no appeal?’

  ‘I don’t like being fitted into a stiff frame, I would like to be allowed to kick and scream, if I wished –’

  ‘Kick and scream?’ Captain Marsh looked as if she had pronounced the earth flat.

  ‘Yes. I have never done so, of course. Such behaviour is as unknown among my family as cowardice among the Spartans, but as a wife I should like to feel I could do so, if I ever wished to, and that my husband would understand.’

  ‘It could on occasions, relieve any monotony that might be hanging around. Sophia have you suffered repression?’

  ‘No, lectures,’ said Sophia.

  ‘Then let me wish you a future free of all lectures, and a husband who’ll encourage you whenever you want to let your hair down, which is what you mean by kicking and screaming, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sophia, inspecting her gloves. Captain Marsh climbed to his feet. She rose with him. ‘It’s time to go?’ she said.

  ‘I think so. I’ve asked a hundred times, I know, but I must ask again – are you sure it’s right for you to come with me?’