The Boy in Black, page 10
‘This was done by someone, Adler. And you were the only one to see Dietrich alive last.’ He walked up to me and leaned in close, nose to nose. ‘And if I find out that it was you, I will send you to the camps myself.’
‘I didn’t do it.’
‘Then explain it!’ he demanded.
‘I can’t! Sergeant, I lost my best friend down there. I saw his body, and all I wanted was to hold him and wish he would come back to life. I had to see his body lay there, as though he was nothing. If I could have stopped it, I would have. But I couldn’t. I didn’t do this to Dietrich. I would never do that to someone – especially our own. I had nothing to do with it.’
I hated saying it – our own. I knew I would never do it to anyone. No one, no matter who they were, deserved to go through that. But I was used to lying and exaggerating – it was who I was now.
‘I don’t care what happened to your friend. I’ve lost men, too. Good men. Don’t sell me this pathetic bullshit about what it is to miss someone.’ He paused and looked me in the eyes, then sighed. ‘But I believe you, as much as that may be a shock. Which means it was the Russian soldiers.’
‘Why would Russian soldiers do this?’ As much as I was confused, somehow, I knew that this was no act done by any Russian soldiers.
‘Because they are barbarians, Adler. They know how to be barbarians in war. They know how to instil fear into us – or at least attempt to.’
‘I don’t think this is the work of Russian soldiers, Sergeant,’ I said honestly.
Sergeant Shödler flicked his head toward me and scowled.
‘And why not? Is there something… odd about this? Tell me your thoughts.’ He was digging – I knew he was. But he was digging for something strange, something that I couldn’t put my finger on. I chose my words wisely.
‘I just think that if the Russian soldiers went around the hill, and had set tripwires at the base of the hill, then why climb up it?’
‘Perhaps they saw Dietrich giving covering gunfire at the top and climbed up to stop him.’
I shook my head. ‘No. I don’t know what it is, but it seems like it was planned.’
Sergeant Shödler scoffed. ‘Planned? Of course, it was planned! The Russians planned it! It was hardly unprecedented. Adler, you better start talking.’
‘Talking? What?’
‘Perhaps I have my suspicions about you on this. What is there to prove that you were not, at all, involved in this?’
‘Sir, with all respect, I had nothing to do with it! Why would I do that to Dietrich? Why would I do that at all? I called the soldier up on the hill to warn them about the tripwires. If they turned around, this would never have happened to Dietrich!’
‘But that’s just it, Adler. It did happen. They continued on, with your so-called ‘warning’, and they were killed. It seems like an awfully large coincidence that you claim to have warned them, but the explosives were still detonated. Then we find this.’ He pointed to Dietrich. ‘A soldier, barely out of the training grounds, slaughtered like an animal and dismembered so savagely, you would have thought the Vikings had come through here!’
‘Sir, I was taken by Russian soldiers!’
‘So you claim. But I also find it a coincidence that you disappear after this all happens, and somehow, you escape without injury. You’re lying, Adler, and I will find out why.’
‘I’m not lying, Sergeant,’ I said defiantly. ‘I’m telling the truth.’
Sergeant Shödler leaned in close and held his hand up, pointing his index finger at my face. He pointed a few times with a face of rage and determination, then brushed past me, exiting the tent.
I looked at Dietrich’s body. His eyes were wide open, colourless. I closed his eyelids and lifted the sheet over his body. This didn’t make any sense. If it wasn’t Russian soldiers, who did this, then who would? I walked out of the tent and stood at its entrance for a moment, scanning the area. My eyes settled on a tent that was larger than all the others, and I decided to walk over to it, only to be stopped by Sergeant Shödler three feet away from it.
‘What do you think you’re doing, Adler?’
‘I…’ I stuttered, alarmed at his presence. ‘I was going to the commander’s tent.’
‘Do you take me for a fool? What were you doing going to that tent?’
‘Nothing. I wasn’t going to go anywhere near the tent.’
‘I could strangle you right here, if I wanted to.’
‘Then do it,’ I said, scowling at him. The challenge wasn’t thought through, and for a minute I honestly thought he would do it. But he just looked at me.
‘You go anywhere near that tent, and I will have a reason to shoot you where you stand. Don’t cross me Adler. I’ve been kind enough to you in the past, but so far, you’ve proven to be a soldier with too many secrets about you. And trust me when I say that I will find out what they are. Do you understand?’
I stared at him, changing between looking at his right eye and left. ‘Yes, Sergeant.’
He walked in the opposite direction, but looked over his shoulder every few steps, to make sure I wasn’t going to attempt anything irrational. To set him at ease, and to take the target off my back by making sure no one was constantly looking at me every few seconds, I walked away from the tent and headed to the trenches.
As I neared the trenches, which were now a few hundred feet away, I was stopped by the same tall soldier who I had met the first time while entering the tent of the commander. While we were not on the best of terms, he was no more accusatory of me acting brash than I was of his attitude.
‘Adler, I’m Josef Wärton. I met you a few nights ago at the commander’s tent.’
‘Yes, I remember,’ I said.
‘I saw you with Sergeant Shödler,’ he stated.
‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Why do you bring it up?’
He pulled me aside, among the soldiers’ tents where we were unseen by any passing officers.
‘He’s been acting strangely since the assassination attempt on the commander.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘I want to know what he said to you.’
‘He showed me the body of Dietrich, who was the sniper on the hilltop with me. Then he told me that he thought I did it, and that he will prove that it was me, somehow.’
‘Why does he think that you did it?’
I shrugged.
‘He said I was the only one with Dietrich, and no one else saw him. At first, he said it was Russian soldiers, but I said that I didn’t think it was. And that’s when he accused me.’
‘Why would you say that it wasn’t the Russian soldiers?’
‘Why would they do that? His body was cut all over, and he had bruising on his limbs like he was in a struggle. Why not just shoot him?’
The soldier sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger.
‘Why wouldn’t you just agree that it was Russian soldiers and leave it at that?’
‘Because I know it wasn’t. If one of our soldiers did that, they have to be found and stopped. I’m not going to lie to him.’
‘And what if it was him, Adler? What then?’
‘Who? Sergeant Shödler? Why would he do something like that?’
‘The sergeant has had a passionate distaste for Russians ever since his wife was killed by them almost ten years ago.’
I looked at him, aghast.
‘What?’
‘He was in Russia for military business, and his wife came with him. She was robbed and beaten, left on the street. It took Russian soldiers almost an hour to respond to the incident, when they found out it was his wife. She died in hospital two weeks later. He’s always held every Russian accountable for that.’
‘What has dismembering Dietrich’s body got to do with his wife’s death?’
‘I think it’s because he needs an excuse.’
‘And excuse for what?’
‘To wipe out this Russian army.’
‘Wait, so what about the assassination attempt?’
He looked around nervously to make sure no one was eavesdropping.
‘I think it was him. He planned it all, and made it look like it was the Russian soldiers. If he could successfully make it look like they had attempted to assassinate the commander, there would be no treaty or retreat. He would have reason to continue fighting and obliterate them.’
I stared at him in shock.
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because he might try to pin Dietrich’s death on you, and say you were working with the Russians. And to be honest, I don’t want to see any fellow soldier go through something like that. That man has a taste for blood, and you ought to stay out of his way when he’s hungry.’
I had given Josef far less credit than what he had deserved initially, and I felt guilty to stand and listen while he tried to help me prepare for what was expected to come.
‘Thank you, Wärton. Really, thank you.’ He nodded and smiled. ‘So, what do we do now?’
‘Somehow prove that this was all Sergeant Shödler. How we’re going to do that, I don’t know. But there’s no need to aggravate the situation if nothing is going to happen to you.’
‘But what about the men over there who innocently retreated?’
He sighed. ‘When we reach Moscow, they’ll be dead either way.’
Dear Oskar
Oskar,
It is hard to imagine that you are no longer here in body; that all you were is now gone. It is hard to know that I will never speak to you, nor hear you again. But what is even harder, and at this moment seems like it will never get any easier, is that what was said and done atop that hill can no longer be taken back with an apology. I missed my chance – forever.
When I first met you, you were the epitome of scary. Words cannot begin to describe the moment you stood face to face to me and stared me directly in the eyes without flinching. How frightened I was; frightened yes, but wary of who you once were. You were broken. Most people were, but you were different. You refused to show it, and even when you tried to hide behind the staunch façade, I knew that who others perceived you to be, was not who you really were. You were just like everyone else deep down – you knew how to love.
The only soldier to ever stick by me, I always remember how grateful I was that you did not decide to be positioned elsewhere. It was never about the fact that you swore to protect me, and you stood up for me; I would never ask that you stand in front of me for my own sake. No. It was the fact that you decided to stand by me, whichever my situation may be. You knew my past, and I knew yours enough to warrant feeling a sense of pride of how our friendship grew. We became family.
Each night, cliché as it may be, I look up to the sky and hope that you are there. I have trouble with the concept of heaven, and I always have, but that does not stop me from believing that maybe, just maybe, you are still looking out for me in your own way. We are only human, all of us. And that makes us susceptible to death, yet somehow, some of us cannot get enough of it, and that scares me. I like life, yet I know it will never be the same without you, ever.
I am grateful for my family, but you can never choose them, and so maybe I was one of the lucky ones. But we made each other family, and that is what makes our bond one that I never want to let go of. Maybe it is something greater than all of us trying to tell me something; maybe it is Death trying to tell me something; or maybe it is just life moving on, and somehow what we had was strong enough to last only a short time.
You will never be forgotten; I promise you that. Nor will you ever be unloved.
Thank you, Oskar.
Love always,
Hans
Chapter 12
September 30, 1941
For the entire afternoon, while each soldier around me was more concerned with defeating the army that had once waved the white flag of surrender, I was more concerned with the entire ordeal of Sergeant Shödler. Why would he want to frame me for something? Did he know who I really was, or had he just taken a disliking to me the moment he met me? I was nervous; oblivious to what was being said or done about the entire thing out of earshot and out of sight.
By the late afternoon, one Russian tank remained, and twenty-four men. We had won, if you could call it that. Our soldiers grabbed one another by the arms, shaking in enjoyment at the prospect of our small victory. Within half an hour, the lone tank was destroyed, and the soldiers who accompanied it had been killed. There was no more gunfire, and the only sound was the sighs of relief and cheers from the soldiers in our trenches, with stretched smiles across their faces. I managed a smile, but in the back of my mind was the ticking of each scenario that could possibly play out with Sergeant Shödler. Our officers came to the trenches and walked along, encouraging cheering from the soldiers. A temporary uplift of spirits before the long haul to Moscow – and then that’s when things would get worse. But for now, we basked in the so called ‘positive’ banter of their defeat, and our menial victory. Deep down, we all knew this was a minor victory, but we also knew moments like this – the smiles and the laughs – only ever came few and far between in war, so we made the most of it.
We stayed camped for the night in the same spot and, instead of the sound of gunfire which would accompany the darkness and rain, it was now men gleefully eating and conversing around campfires, though the rain had not ceased. But no one was afraid of getting wet, with the fires to keep us warm and the soldiers much happier than they had been in a long time. It was so easy to forget that we were ever in a war. It was easy to forget everything that had happened, and enjoy the present; the countryside, the fires and the company – but perhaps not the food. Nevertheless, we made it what it was.
But guilt can easily crawl its way back into minds, as it had done for me. For what we were celebrating was death, and it was death that had been orchestrated by Sergeant Shödler. He hadn’t let go of the death of his wife, and not only had he never forgiven those who had done it, he held an entire nation responsible.
Had he not had his way, and had he not set up those Russian soldiers who, in this case, were innocent, we would have celebrated far earlier, and my mind, at least, would be far less guilt ridden than it currently was.
As I sat, grinning at the other soldiers who ecstatically waved their arms while discussing the details of the battle, I looked over to see Sergeant Shödler standing idle, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes scanning over each campfire. Was he looking for me? I leaned forward and tilted my head down. I kept low for a few minutes, before peering up to see if he had moved on. He was still there, and I had stared at him long enough for his head to whip around and stare directly at me. Shit! I thought. I quickly ducked down, and each of the soldiers who sat with me around the campfire, which included Earnst and Felix, looked at me suspiciously.
‘Hans, what the hell are you doing?’ asked Felix.
‘Nothing,’ I exclaimed.
I could tell each eye was fixated on me, and as I answered, I had guessed that each eyebrow went up in suspicion.
‘Boys.’ A heavy voice sounded as my head was tucked into my jacket. It was Sergeant Shödler. ‘How are we this evening?’
Each of the soldiers nodded accordingly and smiled. I felt a large hand land on my back, accompanied by, ‘And what about you, Private Adler? Well, I hope?’
I looked up to see Sergeant Shödler grinning at me menacingly, his breath foul with smoke. I shrank back into my jacket, my beaded eyes watching his lips move as his tongue ran along his top teeth.
‘I’m well, Sergeant Shödler,’ I finally replied.
‘Good,’ he hissed. ‘I’m glad to hear it. A shame we cannot be accompanied by all of the soldiers who started this good fight, isn’t it? But that is the sacrifice of war.’
‘Yes, Sergeant.’ I stared at the fire, feeling his warm breath on my ear as he spoke.
‘Indeed. Some people are just unlucky in war, I suppose. Don’t you agree?’
‘Yes, Sergeant.’
‘Yes, they are.’ He stood upright. ‘Enjoy your night, boys. And you too, Adler. Enjoy it. Feast, for we have victory. Lives have been lost, but in the end, it is all for a very necessary cause,’ he scoffed and walked away, his hands fumbling in his pockets as he pulled out a cigarette and a box of matches. Leaving a trail of smoke, he walked through the tents and disappeared.
All eyes were on me, now. Not one of them looked anywhere else. They edged forward, and the sound of Earnst’s voice asked, ‘What was that all about, Hans?’
I shook my head and placed my elbows on my thighs, leaning close to the fire.
‘I don’t know.’
One younger soldier laughed.
‘Oh come on, Hans. Don’t lie. He wouldn’t be giving you that grimaced hiss and stare for nothing.’
‘Well, maybe he just likes to taunt me. I don’t know.’
The group was silent. I stood up and smiled at each of them, then said, ‘I’m just a little tired, that’s all,’ and left.
Before I got to my tent, Earnst had followed me and tapped me on the shoulder.
‘Hans, are you sure everything is okay with you and Sergeant Shödler?’
I shook my head. ‘Not really. But I can’t exactly say anything, that’s the problem.’
‘What has he done to you?’ Earnst became tense.
‘It’s not what he’s done, but I think what he is going to do.’
‘And what’s that?’
I took a deep breath and looked around, before making eye contact with Earnst again.
‘I think he killed Dietrich.’
‘You mean the soldier that was on top of the hill with you?’
I nodded.
‘And I think he set up the assassination attempt on the commander. I don’t know how to prove it, and I don’t even know if anyone will believe me, but by the way he was talking, I think he did it. He keeps taunting me, like he’s going to make it look like I killed Dietrich and I planned with the Russians to kill the commander. I have no idea what he will do, and I hate not knowing.’
