Krista's Chance

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Krista's Chance Page 8

by Gemma Jackson

“The soldiers are shooting people!” Krista cried. “We must help them!”

  Jan’s large hands gripped her shoulders before she could move. “What can you do for them but die with them?” His voice was choked. “We want you to bear witness to this madness. You must carry word to the world.”

  Perry wanted to weep. To be asked to stand here and witness something so horrible! “Man’s inhumanity to man.”

  “I prayed that I had imagined it.” Gisele appeared among the trees.

  “You should not be out!” Jan barked. “You must not be seen.”

  “You trained me to move softly and unseen.” Jan had been the groundskeeper on her family’s estate for many years.

  “The soldiers are tearing children from their mother’s arms!” Krista, the glasses to her eyes, cried.

  “This is happening all over Germany.” Jan kept his arm around Gisele’s shaking shoulders as they stood, helpless at the horror taking place below them.

  “Englisher, help!”

  They turned to see burning missiles being lobbed over the locked gates onto the forecourt. Two men stood in the street, shouting abuse and laughing madly.

  “Jan, you cannot.” Gisele held the man back with only her words.

  Perry hurried to the mechanic’s side. The hose was pushed into his hands. Krista, being more limber, was ordered to throw the contents of the red buckets filled with sand that stood along the side of the garage onto the flames.

  The night seemed endless. The two throwing missiles into the garage appeared to hold a personal grudge against the mechanic. They ran off when they ran out of ammunition, perhaps to join the crowds gathered in the town.

  The mechanic remained at his post, keeping watch over his business. Perry and Krista returned to join the others in the trees. They watched, each with their own thoughts as men were marched away while women and children were pushed towards trucks. The sounds and sights of that night would remain in their memory forever.

  “It would be best if you left now,” said Jan.

  The frenzy of the crowd below was lessening. The soldiers were driving and leading the sobbing people away in the opposite direction to the one Krista would take. The sky was filled with black smoke. It was impossible to judge the time.

  “You must not stop for anything you might see. You are carrying important cargo. It would not do for her to fall into the hands of the Nazis. I will ride my motorbike before you and lead the way. If we are stopped I will curse your blood and say I am removing you from German soil. I will be believed.”

  “Jan, nooo!” Gisele cried.

  “I am an old man.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “What is inside that head must not fall into Nazi hands.” He hugged her close to his chest while she sobbed. “Come, the van is ready. You have petrol and everything else you could need. Do not stop for any reason. I will escort you towards the border. I will leave when we reach the forested area before it. God Speed.” He pushed her from him and disappeared into the trees.

  The mechanic crossed to the trees, shouting abuse and shaking his fist at them. He blamed them for the attack on his garage. He cursed them, telling them to get off his property. He shouted that he wanted money from them and then he never wanted to see them again. Krista didn’t bother translating for Perry. It was all an act played out for anyone who might be watching.

  The bill had been settled with traveller’s cheques. Gisele was aboard the campervan and the mechanic was still shouting abuse while helping them in any way he could.

  The sound of a heavy engine approaching the garage carried through the night. Jan, an official sash across his chest claiming his support of Hitler, stopped his heavy motorcycle outside the locked gates. He was coming to remove the Englishers, he shouted loudly over the engine noise. The mechanic hurried to open the gates, with much handwaving and shouted insults.

  Krista drove the van out of the gates that slammed closed as soon as she had cleared them. She followed the lights of the bike back towards the main road. She kept her eyes fixed on that bright light, refusing to allow herself to see her surroundings. They had to leave. There was nothing they could do to help here. She could not think about what she had just seen. She would be a quivering wreck if she allowed herself to dwell on the horrors she had witnessed.

  It was a silent journey along the main road in the direction of the Belgian border. The absence of the many guards they had passed along their route up to this point was very evident. The van travelled along unhindered. Perry groaned and covered his eyes from time to time but Krista didn’t ask what had upset him. She had a job to do. The road in front of her seemed never-ending.

  They drove for hours, then the motorbike stopped and each vehicle used the cans they carried to refuel. They continued onwards as the sky lightened.

  The motorbike rider tapped his brakes. The red taillight flickered.

  “Gisele!” Perry turned his chair around. He walked to where Gisele slept on the floor. “Time to hide.”

  He helped the sleepy woman out of her sleeping bag and into the toilet. He removed the panel from one wall to reveal a hidden space big enough for two people to stand.

  “God be with you!” Gisele whispered as Perry wrestled the panel back into place, concealing her. There were holes in the panel that matched those on the outside of the campervan. If asked, it was to allow the toilet odours to escape. They would provide air for her now.

  Perry picked up the sleeping bag, stashing it in the space beneath the window seat. He checked that nothing was out of place.

  Krista wished it had remained dark. Trucks carrying dead-eyed women and children passed them on the road. Soldiers ignored them, calling back and forth to each other. They high-stepped along, seeming to celebrate their night’s activities.

  “They must be heading for the train station,” Perry remarked.

  Some time passed.

  “Jan is leaving us,” Perry said.

  They watched the motorbike pull to the side of the road. Jan shook his fist as they passed him.

  “Do not stop for any reason, Krista,” Perry said as they entered an area shaded by trees. “People will be desperate to escape this place. We cannot help them. It will be difficult to do but we must escape. We have much to report and cannot afford to endanger this mission.” He was speaking to convince himself as much as Krista.

  “I want to keep driving until I fall off the edge of the world.” Krista had been fighting tears for what seemed like forever. “It will be very difficult to pretend to be a silly woman on her way home.”

  “I know but needs must …”

  They sat in silence as the guard on the German side of the border demanded their papers. There was no demand to search the campervan as there had been when they entered the country. The guards seemed subdued and nervous. They were waved through towards Belgium.

  “We need to find an out-of-the-way place to park, Krista,” Perry said as they crossed the space between one country and another. “I want to let Gisele out of the hidey-hole as soon as we can.”

  “The Belgian side of the forest we camped in our first night in Germany is just over the border. We can stop there.”

  Chapter 10

  “This is such a clever little vehicle.”

  Gisele, zipped into a sleeping bag, was sitting on the floor of the campervan, her back to the wall. They had been waved through the Belgian border control. The campervan was parked inside a dense copse of trees. Perry was outside, fetching wood for the fire. Krista was lying on the bench under the window, a sleeping bag covering her.

  “What did Jan mean?” Krista pushed onto an elbow to look at the other woman.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Jan – he said what was inside your head could not fall into German hands.” Krista wanted an answer. They had risked their lives for this woman. “What did he mean?”

  “Ah, dear Jan!” Gisele pulled the old-fashioned hat from her head. “What would I have done without him?” She ran her hands
through her dirty hair.

  “It is freezing out there.” Perry threw an armful of kindling into the van. “I’ll soon have the fire going.” He stepped into the uneasy silence in the van.

  “Gisele is about to explain Jan’s strange remarks to me.” Krista didn’t feel she needed to explain.

  “Women!” Perry turned his attention to getting the fire going. They were all cold and tired.

  “I met my husband at University.” Gisele pulled the hat back on. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “He was my professor. I fell in love with his mind.” Tears rolled slowly down her ashen cheeks. “Science fascinates me – it always has. My husband encouraged me to explore the possibilities of gases.” She opened her eyes to find them both staring at her. “I will not bore you with the details but it would appear I am something of a prodigy. I did not want fame or fortune. It is the science that fascinates me. My husband used my research to publish many papers in renowned scientific journals. He became somewhat of a celebrity in the world of science. My name appears nowhere on his papers.”

  “Oh, oh!” Krista sat up. “You are the scientist!”

  Perry, the fire going, took the seat beside her. She threw part of the sleeping bag over his lap.

  “Indeed,” Gisele sobbed. “I gave him the life he wanted. A family and fame. He gave me encouragement and a place to work and develop my ideas. The Nazis thought to use the wife and children of Herr Professor to encourage him to develop his deadly gases.”

  What could anyone say? They rested quietly while the fire warmed the air in the van.

  “I’ll make a pot of coffee. We should have something to eat before we get back on the road.” Krista busied herself in the kitchen space. “Those clothes cannot possibly be yours.” Krista gestured at the old-fashioned black suit. Gisele looked like a wizened old lady. She could not be that old. She was Captain Waters’ twin after all.

  “Do you know how it feels to owe your life and freedom to a pigeon!” Gisele laughed bitterly. “I don’t know what made me check the pigeon coop on the roof of our apartment building. I had packed for the children the night before and stored their little cases in my car. I never told my husband the children were to be taken to England.” How could you explain the fear and mistrust she had been living with? “Their nanny was a paid-up member of the Nazi party and proud of it. “I received my brother’s warning. I had time only to tell him I would flee. I released all of the pigeons. The children’s nanny had left a box of donations for her church in the apartment hallway. I grabbed the darkest oldest ugliest outfit I could find and stuffed it into a shopping bag. I don’t think I took a breath until I had seen the children on their way.”

  “Do you have papers?” Perry wasn’t interested in the woman’s outfit. They had to get her out of the country. He needed to know if they had to smuggle her. She could be injured if she had to remain in the campervan while it was hoisted onto the deck of the ferry. If she had official papers she could openly travel with them.

  “Jan destroyed the false papers I travelled with to reach Essen.” Gisele climbed out of the sleeping bag. “I have my British passport under my own name. It is, believe it or not, under my hat.”

  Perry took the sleeping bag she offered him and stood to stuff the bags back under the seat. It didn’t take the campervan long to warm up.

  “There were German soldiers on the docks when last I sailed from Antwerp.” Krista opened the legs of the table. She doubted any of them wanted to eat but they must keep up their strength. “They appeared free to question travellers while officials looked away.”

  “We will need a story to tell if and when we are stopped.” Perry raised a brow when Krista started to laugh.

  “It would seem old Brunhilda Alvensleben will once more come to the rescue.” Krista had not thought she’d be capable of laughter.

  “Explain?” Gisele knew she had missed something.

  “Your brother sent us into Germany with an urn …”

  The three made themselves comfortable while Perry and Krista regaled a fascinated Gisele with the tale of Brunhilda.

  “And this means what?” Gisele had enjoyed their story. It had distracted them all long enough to force food down.

  “Don’t you see?” Krista’s eyes sparkled. “You are already dressed like an elderly widow. If I push you in the wheelchair – sobbing as if your heart is broken – along the dock – no one would question you. Men, even soldiers, don’t like dealing with crying women!” She stood with her hands on her hips, grinning widely.

  “The urn is nearly empty.” Perry had intended to bury the urn before they left this camp site.

  “There are ashes in the fireplace,” Krista replied.

  The sound of three people laughing hysterically echoed from the campsite. When one got control of their laughter, they would look at another and start again. It was the release of tension they all so desperately needed.

  The journey through Antwerp was anti-climactic. The people of Antwerp had enough of their own problems. They paid scant attention to a sobbing figure in a wheelchair being pushed along the cobbled streets. They visited the ferry office to purchase tickets. While there Perry and Gisele used the ferry company’s telegraph operator to send telegrams to England. The book of traveller’s cheques was a great deal thinner than when they had left home.

  Krista felt she had no one who needed to be notified.

  German soldiers were once more present on the docks. They paid no attention to two sobbing women, one in a wheelchair with a large urn on her lap and a limping man. Their papers were given a cursory inspection – only their tickets were closely checked. The campervan attracted attention because it was unusual and gave people something to look at and wonder about. It was hoisted onto the deck of the ferry with no problem. There was no need to present the urn, now holding fireplace ashes.

  “I feel as if I won’t be able to breathe freely until the ferry has docked in Felixstowe.” Gisele was glad she was seated. She was trembling visibly. She had done it – with a great deal of help – she had escaped Hitler’s clutches. She could not dwell on her husband. He was a charming man. She was sure he could talk himself out of his troubles.

  “I think it is time to give Brunhilda Alvensleben a decent send-off.” Krista took the urn from Gisele’s lap before she let it fall. “A burial at sea should be just the thing.”

  “Do you need me to come with you?” Perry felt possessive of the old girl – no matter how fictional.

  “I’ll wait until we are out to sea.” Krista would enjoy some time alone to think.

  “Goodbye, Brunhilda!” Krista stood at the stern of the ferry and opened her hands, allowing the urn to slip over the side and into the foaming sea. Gisele and Perry were snuggled down under blankets, trying to sleep in chairs bolted into the deck of the traveller’s lounge. “I have enjoyed having your company. I will miss you.” She didn’t feel silly. The urn had been almost a third person on this journey. “You were the first and last relative I’ve ever known.” She had tears slipping down her cheeks. She didn’t try to wipe them away. She needed to cry.

  She looked out over the grey sea, her heart heavy. She had been here only six months ago. So much had happened. She had met people who offered her help. She had learned the secrets of her own past. But what was she to do now? She looked at the sky, tears running freely down her upraised face. She stood looking to the sky for a long time as if subconsciously waiting for a reply to her worries from the heavens.

  “There you are!” Perry’s voice drew her from her melancholy. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I was saying goodbye to Brunhilda.” She wiped her cheeks before turning to face him.

  “She was a great old girl.” Perry joined her at the railing.

  They stood watching the sea for a while enjoying this break from the constant stress they had been under since they started out on this journey.

  “I am hoping my father will meet me when we arrive at
Felixstowe.” Perry was still looking at the sea. “I need to tell him of all of the submarines available to the German navy. There is much we need to discuss.” When she said nothing, he turned to look down at her bent head. “Gisele believes her twin Captain Waters will be waiting on the dock. They have not seen each other for some time.”

  When she didn’t look at him or say anything, he sought for something to say. He had never been uncomfortable in her company before.

  “My father can give you a lift to the nearest train station if that is your wish. You must be eager to return home. I know I am.”

  Krista raised her eyes to look at him. This wonderful kind man she had thought would be important in her life. The time they had spent together had been fraught with danger. She had never felt so close to anyone. She wanted to sigh. He was more a brother to her than the three men she had believed to be her brothers. She thought about his words. Did she need a lift to a train station? To go where? Where was home to her now?

  “I will offer to drive the campervan for Captain Waters.” The time alone in the van would give her time to think. “But, thank you, Perry, for everything.”

  They stood watching the shores of England approach, each wondering what the future held. Not only for them but the world as they knew it.

  THE END

 

 

 


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