Chapter 2: Stone walls do not a prison make...
Hogan relished the feeling of freedom for the last time. Flying had been a dream since his childhood, since his father had given him a small model plane to build. He had been fascinated by the model; a Sopwith Camel from World War I. In his dreams he had flown one many times, flying better than even the Red Baron himself.
Reality was less romantic. Planes were not like the Camel anymore. Still, he had felt the freedom, the joy of not being earth-bound. In the air, he was invincible; no one could touch him, sailing through white-clouded skies. Heaven certainly was in the sky. Heaven was calm and peaceful, where else could it be, if not up here?
As if to prove him wrong, Flak erupted all around him. Like a robot, he manoeuvred around the Flak. A push on a button released the bombs. He felt the bombs sliding into place, then the plane jumping up as its heavy load pivoted to earth. The factory beneath him went up in flames. Death was so easily forgotten up here. The sorrow caused by the bombs was hardly ever in his mind. There were bombs, yes, but they fell onto targets, not onto people. Life was easy, there was no death, no sorrow, no pain caused.
A feeling of dread rose in his throat when he rose from the pilots seat. Panic gripped him. Had not in that moment an explosion from the back of the aircraft reminded him of the war, he would have stayed where he was, unmoving, waiting for the plane to crash and take him with it, into its last, deadly fall.
He shook of all thoughts of dying and walked to the back of the aircraft. A feeling of surreality overcame him. Many times he had imagined what it would be like to bail out under enemy fire. The plane would be burning, his crew shouting. He would be in the midst, shouting orders, trying to keep the plane from losing altitude. A hopeless struggle but nevertheless tried.
In his thoughts all of this had been sudden, violent. It was not now. Everything seemed almost peaceful despite the Flak that was still exploding all around him. He had had time to mentally say goodbye, he had had time to think about how his life would go on. In his thoughts there had been less thinking, less reason, only fear as the parachute unfolded above his head, as he gazed after his crashing plane.
As in trance, he jumped. Now in reality.
He fell, but there was no fear, no pain, no feeling as Germany came closer and closer. Automatically, he pulled at the leash of his parachute and felt the thug of it seconds later. He was not thinking, not of his family, not of his home. Death was so close, but he could not think. He had often thought about what the moment of death would be like. In his imagination, his life had played out before his eyes, he had seen his family, his friends, but reality was so different.
He felt nothing. Empty, he floated down, until something sharp hit him. As pain exploded in his head, his nothingness was only enlarging as he drifted into unconsciousness.
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There was pain, so much pain. Hogan writhed around in agony, trying to find comfort, but there was none. The world was blue, the world was green, the world was black. There was noise, so much noise, but he could not discern what it was.
Suddenly, in all his misery he felt a cool touch to his forehead. Wet it was, but cool. A woman advanced on him, her face changing into all the girls Hogan had known. He did not know where he was, nor did he care. All he cared about was her cool touch to his forehead.
She stroked his hair and then she moved closer. He could feel her warmth beside him. He hugged her into a tight embrace and then he kissed her...
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Hogan momentarily forgot his pain, when he awoke, staring down the barrel of a gun, hugged in a tight embrace with a cow.
Embarrassed, he surveyed the person holding the gun, a farmer in his mid-forties. The cow was obviously his. The farmer gestured wildly at him with his gun. Hogan tried to get up, but discovered he could not. On one side, his trousers were covered in blood and at some places they were shredded to pieces.
He raised his hands in defeat, pointing to the shredded piece of cloth that had once been a fully functional pair of trousers. The farmer shouted something at a couple of other men who came over, talking in German amongst themselves.
"Was machen wir mit ihm?", the farmer with the gun asked.
Id like to know that as well, Fritz. Hogan thought. What are you going to do with me?
"Er ist Amerikaner, wir müssen ihn der Gestapo übergeben.", a younger man remarked.
No, no, Fritz, not the Gestapo. Bad idea, bad plan, take me to the Luftwaffe. Hogan thought, trying to influence the Germans by sheer force of will.
But it was not to be. The men nodded and pulled Hogan into an upright position.
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The march was endless. Hogan was dragged along by two of the farmers because he could hardly walk, but still it took so long. He also discovered that he was thirsty, hungry and tired. He felt like curling up in a corner to never come out again, hoping that the world would forget about him.
But Nazi Germany did not forget him. They reached a small farm. Hogan would have smiled had he not felt so much like crying. The farm was beautiful, small, painted in white with red roof tiles. A child was playing with a dog. A young woman in a white dress was sitting on a bench, reading a book. The birds were singing in the trees, the sky was blue.
Hogan felt like a homesick child in summer camp. The woman, the child, they reminded him so much of home, but the German and his bloodied trousers told otherwise. He was not home he was further away than ever. No home leave for him now.
The woman looked up from her book. Her eyes widened and she hurried towards the group of men standing in the yard.
"Vater, wer ist dieser Mann?", she pointed at Hogan. The farmer shook his head.
"Geh und hole deine Mutter, Angelika, er braucht Hilfe.". His voice was calm and unconcerned. He motioned to the men to move Hogan to the bench. There he could finally sit down. He relaxed a little, grateful for the bit of reprieve.
The farmer looked at him, concern in his eyes. "Do you understand me?", he said in reasonable English. Hogan nodded, confused. When another farmer had suggested the Gestapo his captor had been ready to turn him over. Now, he seemed unsure, he sounded comforting, friendly.
The farmer stared at him for a moment. His gaze rested upon the name patch on Hogans uniform jacket.
"Colonel Hogan is it?" Hogan nodded again. He would speak as little as he could. All his feelings screamed at him to talk to this man, to trust him, but his reason could not. His military training would not allow him to become friendly with a man he had just met, especially if the man was German and Germany the enemy.
The farmer tried again. "Colonel, my daughter is calling my wife. She will treat your leg. Then we have to turn you over to the German authorities, do you understand?"
Hogan nodded again, then managed a whisper. "Gestapo?"
Reassuringly, the German shook his head. "No, Colonel, the Luftwaffe. Hans," he pointed to the younger farmer who was standing a bit further away, "adores the Gestapo, he would like to turn you in to them. I, on the other hand……".
He said no more, only threw a look at the house and Hogan understood. This man was no Nazi he only wanted to protect his family. Hiding allied flyers was not a good way to do this. Maybe he was no underground man, but he was a decent person, Hogan sensed. His famous luck had held once again.
The young woman returned with another woman. It was clearly her mother. She was beautiful too, only older, an aged version of her daughter. She approached him carefully.
It saddened Hogan. She must be afraid of him.
Why shouldn't she be? He thought suddenly. After all he was the enemy, just as they were his. It was just that Germany did not seem like the enemy. When Hogan closed his eyes, he could almost believe that he was home again. The farmer and his family were friendly, he had not yet seen Gestapo or Luftwaffe. He had not yet seen brutality and he briefly
wondered whether all the rumors were true.
There was no time to pursue these thoughts further as the elder woman knelt down and looked at his trousers. She visibly paled at the sight of all the blood.
Hogan reached down and carefully removed the piece of cloth, exposing his leg, a piece of shrapnel deeply embedded in it. The blood had already begun to clot, but Hogan could see that the minute the shrapnel was removed, it would start bleeding again.
The woman seemed to realize this too. She said, softly "Colonel, I think this wound is beyond my ability to deal with. Günther," she pointed to her husband, "will get the doctor from town. Would you follow me inside? You look hungry and thirsty."
He nodded and made an attempt to stand up. Immediately Günthers arm shot out to help him, which he accepted gratefully. He followed them into the house where they seated him at the table.
Feeling strangely comforted, he had a long look at his surroundings. The furniture was made of wood. A large cupboard covered the entire wall on the right. Another cupboard similar in shape, but smaller stood in the corner on the left, which was the furthest away from him. On it were a few books, "Mein Kampf" amongst them.
This startled Hogan for a moment but then he remembered that one copy of the book had to be present in every house and when he studied the book more carefully, he could tell that it had not been opened much.
His gaze wandered further through the room. A large sofa, the furnace and the table at which he was seated completed the tour. When he looked to his left, he could see the kitchen. To his right was a door, which led outside and towards the stairs from which you could access the floor above.
His observations were interrupted when the woman came back carrying a tray with bread and some ham and cheese. She also brought him a glass of milk and then sat down opposite him, watching him dig into the food with appetite.
When he was finished they sat in silence, until Hogan felt the need to at least say something.
"Thank you". It was not much, but the woman's eyes lightened and she smiled. "It was nothing. Or more accurately, something everyone should do."
She carried his plate and glass back to the kitchen after he had denied her offer to have anything else.
When she came back again she said, "You can call me Heidi, if you like."
He blushed. "My name is Robert."
Her gaze turned distant and Hogan did not understand why. He saw a tear appear in her eyes, but dared not to ask. So they sat in silence for a couple of minutes until Heidi spoke again.
"Günther will be back soon."
Hogan nodded. There had been an unexplained sadness in Heidi's voice, but he dared not to ask, because who was he to pry into the lives of people he hardly knew?
He wanted to comfort her, put his arm around her shoulder and tell her everything would be all right, but he could not. Both because she was the wife of his German captor and because he now felt the need to huddle up in a corner or feel her arms around him, like his mother used to do. Heidi's unexplained sadness had made him realize what he had done to his family by accepting this assignment, more than any of his thoughts had. For a brief moment he wished that the last twenty-four hours could be undone.
Their silence was interrupted by Günther and another man in a black overcoat, who entered the room. Günther gestured to the other man.
"Colonel Hogan, this is Levi Millstein, a doctor. Levi, this is the Colonel I told you about."
The man nodded and shook Hogans hand. Bright blue eyes twinkled in amusement as he said. "Colonel, pleased to meet you."
Hogan flashed a grin. "Pleased to meet you too."
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An hour and many complaints later Hogan's leg was stitched and bandaged and he was sporting a new pair of trousers, much like his old ones. Not many words were said about this, only a muttered: "May they bring you more luck." from Günther. There was no need for more.
The doctor packed his things into black bag, which he handed to Günther. Günther vanished with it and returned soon after with his hands now empty. Hogan arched his eyebrows in question but the other men ignored his questioning look.
Heidi came into the room with a tablet with four steaming cups of coffee. "I heard you Americans liked coffee more than tea." she said and Hogan smiled gratefully.
All four of them sat down and nipped from their coffee. Günther turned his attention to Hogan.
"Colonel, I am sorry but I need to turn you over to the German authorities. I do not like it but I have to."
Hogan acknowledged Günthers statement with a nod but shot a questioning glance at the doctor. Günther shook his head.
"No, Colonel. I am not saying this because of Levi. He is a long time friend of my family and I know him not to be a Nazi. He is no danger. You, however, despite the fact that you are wounded and weakened by being shot down, are. If the Gestapo finds you here I and my family are on our way to Dachau...", he paused a moment, "or worse.".
Hogans eyebrows arched once more, but he decided to reply to the words spoken instead of asking more questions.
"I understand. I thank you for what you did for me and I will not try to harm you or your family. I will go.".
With these last three words, the last hope of freedom was lost, Hogan knew. He willingly gave himself up. With open eyes, he walked into captivity but he felt no regret. What had to be done had to be done. The choice had been made already, a day earlier.
Günther smiled, relieved. Heidi´s face darkened but she did not speak. Günther knew when he looked at her that the outburst would come later.
Levi too seemed to see this and he gestured them to leave the room. Hogan was surprised by the silent mans authority. The two people left immediately.
The thick wooden door muffled their voices but Hogan could hear that a heated discussion was going on between the two people. He struggled to hear the exact words, but could not.
Suddenly he felt the gaze of the doctor fixed upon him. When he turned he stared into brilliant blue eyes that seemed to contain centuries of wisdom and experience. Levi Millstein spoke softly.
"Colonel. I know that going into captivity is not easy, freedom not easy to give up, but you can remain free inside a prison, remember that.".
Hogan shrugged, unsure what to say, but Levi seemed to desire no answer, because he continued, a faraway look appearing in his eyes.
"Sometimes there is more freedom inside a prison than outside. Freedom is psychical not physical. Find the freedom in yourself and you will be a happy man.".
There was an overwhelming desire in Hogan to trust this man. Somehow he felt that Levi meant no harm, no betrayal. When he finally decided that he would trust Levi, Hogan spoke slowly, almost unwilling because he did not open up easily.
"I am so afraid. I am afraid that I will lose myself and that torture and pain will erase my sense of self. I am so afraid that I will become one of them.".
Levi took a long look at him, then he smiled. "Colonel. You will never be one of them, trust me, I know a Nazi when I see one, maybe that is why I am still able to enjoy relative freedom.".
Ignoring the puzzled look on Hogan's face, he stood. He gripped Hogan's outstretched hand firmly in his, gazed deep into his eyes and said: "Freedom is the most precious thing you can possess and it can't be taken from you. Trust in that, Colonel.".
He shook Hogans hand once more and then he left. Hogan stared after him for a long time, the previous moment etched into his mind. When the doctor had put on his overcoat, Hogan had seen a yellow star, prominentely displayed on it. In the middle of it there was the word Jude.
No wonder he knows so much about freedom. No wonder Günther hides his things.
A few minutes after the doctor had left, Günther and Heidi entered the room again. They sat opposite Hogan and looked very serious.
Günther was the first to break the silence.
"Colonel Hogan. My wife and I had a long discussion. If you want to we can give you shelter and help you escape out of Germany. I know this must come as a surprise but we feel that you are in danger when we turn you over to the Luftwaffe. My wife convinced me to offer you this option. I did not want to, because I was and am afraid that harm will come to my family, but I have changed my mind. I will help you gladly.".
Hogan shook his head. His assignment would not allow him to return and most importantly, Levi's words had given him the courage to carry through with his plans. He would not back off now.
"Günther, Heidi. As much as I appreciate your offer, I cannot accept it. You would endanger too much. I will not ask this from you."
A.N. :
1. The line Stone walls do not a prison make is a line from the poem To Althea from prison by Richard Lovelace.
2. The yellow star referred to in this chapter is the so called Judenstern. A law passed in September 1941 stated that all Jews in Germany from then on had to wear this yellow star to set them apart from the population and mark them as outcasts. The star had to be visible at all times. Trespassing on this law meant concentration camp.
At first, this plan did not seem to work. As Goebbels remarked in a letter to Hitler, the other people did show sympathy for the people wearing these stars instead of hate. This, however, changed as laws became stricter and stricter and in the end prohibited the other German people from coming into contact with people wearing these stars.