Jack picked himself up and dusted himself off as the German driver of his car shouted at the truck driver from the open window. ‘You idiot!’ he screamed. ‘Drive on the right!’ Without waiting for a response, the German revved the engine and pulled off down the road, apparently in a hurry. Seeing Jack, the truck driver didn’t wait around either. He put the truck back into gear and carried along the road.
*
Back at the station, the office was boiling as the light glared in through the windows. Jack was lucky that he was manning the cells as it kept him out of the sun. A cell door opened and Sergeant Honfleur came out. He nodded at Jack and left the station, presumably to resume his beat. Jack turned to leave the cellblock, but Honfleur returned leading another man by the arm. ‘Got another one for you, Jack,’ he said, nodding towards his captive. Jack tried to hide his shock; it was Charles, the man Jack had carried to the hospital during the invasion. The man had spent time recovering from his injuries and Jack hadn’t seen him since. He didn’t say anything to Charles, but there was a knowing look in his eye.
‘What’s he in for?’ Jack asked. He was required to enter the name of every prisoner in the inspector’s book for their records.
‘Caught him red-handed scrawling a ‘V’ on one of the German signposts. Seemed almost proud of it. But the Germans want them punished.’
Jack suppressed a smile and sighed loudly for effect. He looked around him at the block of cells. As far as he could remember, there was only one left. He lifted the heavy key chain hanging at his waist and picked out the right one. The cells had been filling up recently. It wasn’t that Guernsey had much in the way of criminals, otherwise their little police force would be overwhelmed, it was that times had changed and the Islanders were starting to see resistance as a source of great pride. The more serious criminals were moved to the prison and other available cells on the island. Jack sympathised with them, but as a policeman he would never say so. Getting yourself arrested wasn’t the best way to ‘stick it to Jerry’. He unlocked the door to the last empty cell and the man entered. The police would let him stew in there overnight, and then let him go. So much for resistance.
David spotted Jack and walked over to him. He clutched a newspaper in his hand, which was somewhat unusual.
‘Have you seen these ‘V for victory’ symbols popping up around the place?’ Jack asked as David flicked over the page of the newspaper.
‘They’re everywhere,’ David replied. ‘The Germans aren’t going to like it. They’ll take our wireless sets again.’
‘There’s already one of the vandals in the cells.’
‘That’s exactly what I wish to talk to you all about, Constable.’ The chief had snuck up behind them and was peering at them over his glasses. It appeared that he had been listening to their conversation. ‘Fall in, men. I have some news about the symbols appearing across the island.’
The policemen in attendance stopped their conversations and filing as they heard the chief’s voice and turned to listen to what he had to say. ‘As I’m sure you agree, these overt showings of dissent don’t help. The Germans have treated us well, and it would only cause trouble if we continue in this manner. If only the BBC had known what they were causing when they put out that suggestion.’
Some of the assembled policemen nodded, but it was half-hearted. The inspector didn’t seem to notice as he gave them their orders for the day. He beckoned Jack over. ‘Godwin, I want you to find out who is responsible. We’ll have the men keep an eye out, but I want you to take a more … proactive approach. You’re a clever lad, I’m sure you can work out something.’
‘Sir? If I may ask. Whose orders are these?’ Jack asked, already knowing the answer. It had to have come down from higher up. ‘The kommandant’s, of course,’ the chief replied. ‘He’s understandably upset.’ The chief didn’t appear as upset as he claimed the kommandant was, and Jack thought he even noticed a slight rolling of the eyes, but the old man would never admit to it.
‘The kommandant has promised £25 to the person who finds the ringleader.’
There was an intake of breath from several of the policemen. Each of them would like to get their hands on that kind of money, especially with the way the island was going and the constant refusal of the police committee to raise their wages. The Germans really didn’t like being undermined, but the more they punished it the more likely it was to happen. Better to leave it be, Jack thought, and the culprits would soon get bored.
Using the local police was another mistake. There was no way that the old man would put any serious effort into finding the dissenters. Nor would he put his best man on the job. Jack would do his job and follow orders, but he was still only a constable, and he wasn’t about to put his unhappy compatriots in jail if he could help it.
The chief wasn’t done. ‘I want you to go out on patrol with your German counterpart and keep an eye out for anyone vandalising property like this.’
*
About half an hour later Jack was patrolling through the centre of St Peter Port, past The Pollet and down Smith Street. He had collected his German counterpart, who had turned out to be none other than Henrik Bäcker. The two of them had fallen into easy conversation as they searched for any information about the vandalism, and thankfully Henrik had not yet asked about the film. Jack turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. There, plain as day, was a letter ‘V’ scrawled large across the wall in white chalk. He looked around, but the pair were alone on the road. He thought that he should probably report it, or even wash it off, but what was the point? It wasn’t really causing any harm.
‘Doesn’t look like whoever did this is still around,’ he said to Henrik, who nodded in way of reply. Jack made a note of the location in his notepad and carried on, assuming that Henrik would follow him.
Further on there was an even bigger ‘V’. This time on one of the German shop signs, informing them in German, English, and French that it was a German shop for German customers only. Someone had painted over the sign in thick white paint, the kind of paint usually reserved for the outside of a house. That one wouldn’t go unpunished, Jack thought as he passed. It was too obvious and too large for someone not to have noticed, and Jack would have to report it. Jack thought about asking the shopkeepers whether they had seen anything but decided against it. They wouldn’t tell him even if they had.
Someone had also written the word ‘unter’ over a German sign that read: Deutschland Uber Alles.
‘What does it really mean?’ he asked, turning to Henrik for the answer.
Henrik stopped and regarded Jack. There was a wry look on his face. ‘Can it be that even after a year of us being here you still do not speak a word of German?’ he asked, laughing. ‘Are the British all so bad at other languages?’
Jack shrugged. Even though he had thought about it, learning German wasn’t high on his list of priorities.
‘I will tell you,’ Henrik continued. ‘It means, “Germany over all”. Except, someone had decided to write the German word for “under” across it. It is crude, but the sentiment is clear.’
Henrik looked thoughtful. It was obvious for anyone to see that the majority of the Islanders didn’t want them here. Jack had his own experience of that. Some locals were more accommodating than others, but they couldn’t avoid the fact that they were being occupied. Jack liked Henrik. Unlike many of the other Germans he had met he was calm and considerate. There was something he had been wanting to ask for a couple of weeks, and he might not have a better opportunity.
‘What do you think about the invasion of Russia?’ Jack knew he was pushing his luck.
‘A mistake. They like us even less than you do.’ Jack was taken aback, and Henrik smiled across at him. ‘We should go. It is unlikely that we will find whoever did this now.’
Jack nodded, he really shouldn’t have asked the question. He was putting Henrik in a difficult position.
‘We’ll just have to keep an eye out, I suppose.�
��
*
A few weeks had passed since the symbols had been spotted, and for a while everything had been calm. Jack and David were due to go on night shift, and no doubt it would be uneventful. Even before the Germans had arrived there was very little crime on the island, and since the curfew there had been even less. They were really there to make sure that the curfew was adhered to, but most of the police just warned people to get back inside before the Germans spotted them. David had disappeared again. Jack would have to do something about it soon – it was going to get them into trouble – but as usual David came back a few minutes later.
‘Here. Help me with this will you?’ David appeared, carrying a heavy container in Jack’s direction. It dragged along the ground as he struggled with its weight.
‘What the hell is it?’ Despite himself Jack moved to assist him.
‘Not so loud, will you?’ He looked like a naughty schoolboy.
Jack stopped dead as he took the other handle of the container that looked like something between a milk urn and a paint tin. The contents stank of tar and oil, and Jack had to turn his head so that he didn’t breathe it in.
‘It’s bitumen. What the hell are you doing with bitumen?’
‘Quiet,’ David said as he dragged the container a little further to the middle of the road. ‘I got it from the states depot. They won’t miss it.’
‘It’s stealing,’ Jack whispered this time, knowing that he was now an accessory. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
David stopped dragging the bitumen and stood up straight so that he could look Jack in the eye. ‘It’s not as if they’re going to miss it. They’ve got loads of the stuff and there’s not much money to work on the roads at the moment.’ A faint smile played around his lips. ‘We’re going to have a bit of fun with it.’
It didn’t take Jack’s imagination long to work out what David was referring to. Before Jack had a chance to ask, David pulled out a metal rod that he had secreted in the back of his trousers and dipped it into the container of bitumen. He pulled the rod, now covered in the thick tarry substance, out of the container and started to draw a line on the road. In the darkening night it was difficult to see what David was drawing, but after a few minutes the “V” was clearly visible.
David came back over to the container and beamed at Jack, who didn’t return the smile. It wasn’t to say that he didn’t want to show the Germans what they thought of them, but he wasn’t sure what good could come of it.
‘What now? Now you’ve had your little rebellion?’
David looked down at the now-empty canister, then kicked it so that it rolled with a clatter into the gutter at the side of the road and down the hill.
‘Now,’ he replied. ‘We scarper!’
*
If David had thought that their act of rebellion would go unpunished then he was mistaken. It didn’t take long for the Germans to find the defaced road and for their anger to trickle down to the local police force. The inspector stormed into the office.
‘They’ve decided to punish the parish unless someone owns up to it.’
Jack wasn’t sure whether the trickle of sweat that ran down his own temple was from guilt or from the summer heat. David looked over at Jack. There was a slight shake of his head and Jack closed his eyes.
‘Men from the parish will need to wash all of the marks from the signs as best they can, and then will be required to guard the sign in pairs until a time that the German Military Authority decides. It falls on us to ensure that those men are doing their duty. If anyone here should know anything about this, then they should come forward.’
The chief paused again, this time looking at each of them in turn. Every policeman in the building stared back stony-faced. Jack and David were safe for now, but thanks to their act of rebellion the people of that small parish in the north of the island would suffer.
Chapter 22
As soon as Jack arrived at the police station he had his first order. He was to collect the car, drive it around to the Royal Hotel and pick up the kommandant, then take him to the states offices. As he was given the order, he felt warmer, his uniform tighter around his neck. Had the Germans found out that he had helped David? Or that he had struck Johanna’s name from the list? He drove all the way there on edge, flinching at other vehicles, gripping the steering wheel. Thankfully the kommandant and his interpreter sat silently in the back as he drove. Jack followed them up the stairs and into the building, keeping his distance like a scolded child.
Beth was coming out as he entered. She stopped and grinned at him. ‘Trespassing again, Constable?’
Jack hadn’t seen her since the film and there was an awkwardness to her glance that told him she was thinking the same thing. He thought of something tactful to say. A question came out first.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked, his tone biting, thankful there was no one else around to hear the conversation. ‘He’s the enemy.’
‘I wasn’t thinking, Jack,’ she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. ‘We don’t get to decide who we fall in love with.’
They fell silent. Love? He hadn’t expected her to say that. Many of the women who were hanging around with the German soldiers wanted only to improve their lives, but this seemed to be different. He hadn’t really expected to fall in love with Johanna, but it had happened nevertheless. She had enthralled him in a way he couldn’t possibly explain. But Johanna wasn’t the enemy. Yes, she was German, but she had left the country before the war started, exactly because she hadn’t been able to stand and watch while the Führer ran roughshod over her country. But what had Henrik done to stop them? He was not only culpable; he was a soldier in the Führer’s army. Worse than that, he was one of their policemen, bringing their version of order to the towns and cities they occupied. But even Jack had to admit to himself that he liked the man.
‘I … I had no idea,’ he said, feeling just as stupid as he sounded.
‘Yes,’ she replied, quiet as a whisper. He could tell that she was crying. ‘I tried to tell myself I didn’t, but the more time I spent with him …’
He no longer felt like a child in her presence. It was as if he had matured in a way that she had not, that somehow falling in love had made her more vulnerable. It softened her and Jack felt more empathy towards her than he had before.
There were tears in Beth’s eyes, and Jack knew it would not be easy for her. Others on the island would be even less forgiving than Jack when they found out that Beth was consorting with the enemy. Jack had already witnessed first-hand what it could be like.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked as tactfully as he could manage. He wanted to be a friend despite everything. The locals needed to stick together.
‘I don’t know. They call me “Jerrybag”. Some spit at me. My father would throw me out of the house if he knew.’
Jack felt that heat again, as if he were responsible. He should have kept his mouth shut and allowed Beth to go about her day as normal. ‘The others don’t understand,’ he said. ‘I’m sure they will in time. Henrik is a good man … despite being a German.’
He smiled at her and she gave a faint chuckle.
‘You are too, Jack Godwin,’ she replied. ‘Despite being a policeman.’
It was his turn to laugh. Perhaps it was the shared circumstances that had smoothed things over, or maybe friendship could never really be beaten, no matter what fought it. He hoped that it was the latter; perhaps then the Islanders would have a way of seeing it out after all.
*
‘You shouldn’t have gone to see the film,’ Johanna said, exasperated when Jack had told her about his conversation with Beth earlier that day. ‘It wasn’t your smartest idea, Jack.’
He couldn’t disagree with her there, but he didn’t want to admit it. No one enjoyed having their decisions questioned.
‘I wanted to go to,’ he said, weakly. ‘I needed to see what it was really about. What they really thought of the J
ews.’
‘It was just some disgusting propaganda, written by Goebbels. They all are. They’re perverted and malicious.’
‘I know, but how can I be critical of them, if I’ve never seen them?’
She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. ‘I’ve seen too much of it. I’ve seen people act in real life the way they do in those films. Full of hatred.’ Her tone changed to something more sympathetic. ‘For you it’s different. You’ve only ever seen things from this island, from a distance. I was there in the beginning when the Nazis took power. And they did take power. They made anyone who opposed them disappear, filled the people with fear and hate. Made my people a scapegoat for the nation’s woes. My people are sick and they are not getting better.’
‘They’re not all bad. I’ve spoken to some of them, worked with some of them. They don’t want to be here.’
‘That’s how the Party gets you, Jack.’ Johanna was in full flow now. To say she was angry would be an understatement. She was furious with the world, with what her people were doing to it. ‘They befriend you, treat you like you’re one of them, and all the while they are trying to undermine you, to lull you into a false sense of security. They promise you the world. Then when they can’t deliver, it’s someone else’s fault, scapegoat an entire race of people if need be.
‘I saw it happen. Even in my hometown, Lübeck, miles from Berlin. I was there, and there was nothing I could do.’ There were tears in her eyes now, but he didn’t move to console her. He knew that she needed to say this, needed him to hear so that he might finally understand what she had been through. ‘They promised to make Germany great again, to cast off the shackles of the first war, to repair the damage. Some people thought they were mad, but so many others believed them. Apathy and hate won Germany for them, and now look where we are.’
The German Nurse Page 19