The bushy woods at the south end of the Hamelburg bridge were bustling with activity. Two trucks and a staff-car were operating a shuttle service between the camp and the bridge, delivering a few sick and invalids with one or two helpers at every arrival. Lt. J.B. Miller made sure the invalids were placed in a row close to the bridge, ready to be carried off to freedom.
Every now and then Dr. Bauer´s car and the other truck from camp arrived with a load of patients from the town´s hospital as well. And in the midst of all that, hundreds of former prisoners roamed about. Some kept their injured mates company, others sat talking quietly with the small camp-fires they had started.
But most of them just wandered about among the trees, the bushes and their comrades. They could scarcely fathom the idea of finally leaving their prison behind. No more barbed wire fences, no more guard towers, no more threatening machine guns, no more impediments to their freedom. They were on their way out, and soon they´d have complete freedom of movement again.
The sheer thought was a marvel in itself. To be able to go out, whenever you want, wherever you want. To go and spend time with family and friends, to go to a shop or a pub or a restaurant. On holidays. Being home. To simply have food in abundance. To go back to work after so many years of mostly hanging around. To be free...
Langenscheidt was one of the shuttle-truck drivers, and when his colleague Beauchamp caught him for the fourth time anxiously looking out over the bridge towards the town, the Frenchman asked: "What are you looking for, Sergeant?"
Langenscheidt let out a sigh. "A friend of mine from town. She is so pigheaded; she could decide to stay behind. And if she does, I have to go and get her."
"Why would she stay behind?" Beauchamp asked in surprise.
Langenscheidt shrugged. "It is a long story. She promised her husband that she would wait for him in Hamelburg. That was seven years ago. She has not heard from him since he left, but she has never left Hamelburg in all that time. Not even for a day. Just in case he would come back."
Beauchamp smiled. "It sounds like that Lili Marlene-song."
Langenscheidt looked at him in puzzlement. But as he recalled the lyrics to Lili Marlene, he chuckled. "You are right, Sergeant. It is a bit like Lili Marlene. Unfortunately..." He sighed. "This one is for real."
xxx
Carter just couldn´t bring himself to it. Taking Freddy with him, and leaving the chimp´s mate behind, to take his chances on his own?
"Oh, come along then," he sighed.
The other chimp happily jumped in his arms, and so – with one chimpansee on his back and another one in his arms – he sought his way back to Mr. Lorenz and the Colonel.
On the way he passed the mini-farm. And as the goat looked up from his meal, Carter just couldn´t resist. With some difficulty – because of the two chimps – he opened the low gate to the farm. "Come one, guys. It´s time to go."
The goat and the three rabbits followed him readily, and so, stumbling on one of the rabbits who insisted on coming underfoot with him, he staggered towards the door in the fence.
Both Hogan and Mr. Lorenz felt their jaw drop as they saw him approaching.
"Seems like I picked the perfect guy for the piper-job," Hogan whispered in awe.
"Mr. Lorenz, what´s the other chimp´s name?" Carter asked rather muffled as Freddy held on to his chin.
"Alma," the zookeeper answered automatically. He shook his head. "Good heavens, you´re a natural with animals!"
Carter grinned bashfully. "I know. It´s always been like that. Perhaps I should just forget about the drugstore and start my own zoo instead. You know, I´ve..."
Hogan shook his head. "Later, Carter. We have to get going."
xxx
Back at the orphanage they saw father Geisler, Hammond, Newkirk and two of the ladies already busy in lining up the children. A cheer – partly of excitement, partly of a little fear – went up as the children discovered their Rattenfänger coming down the street carrying two monkeys, and with a goat and a few rabbits on his heels.
Some of the kids ran ahead to meet him. "Werden Sie auch die Tiere mitnehmen? Das ist aber nett!" one of the boys proclaimed.
The kids tried to pet Freddy and Alma and the goat, and a few girls picked up the rabbits. And so, surrounded by animals and children, the Pied Piper approached his victims for the day.
"Right, here´s what we´ll do," Hogan explained. "The ladies and the youngest kids will go in the truck; Hammond, you can drive."
Nods all around.
"Paul, you got Felix?" Carter anxiously inquired.
Hammond carefully patted his pocket. "Right here, Carter. And here´s your harmonica."
Carter didn´t have a hand free to take it, so Newkirk hastily stepped in to take over one of the chimps. "Hey mate, how are you doing? Recognize me?"
He got a shrieking answer, and Carter told him: "That is Alma. I just couldn´t take Freddy with me and leave her behind."
"They´re probably lovers," Newkirk agreed. "It would be cruel to separate them. What do you say, Alma?"
A high-pitched monkey-shriek was his reply, and Freddy bobbed his head up and down as if to heartily approve of Newkirk´s words. And everybody laughed.
"Allright, everybody in line," Hogan ordered. "And kids, you know what to do, right? Just like in the story: you sing and dance to the music. And whatever happens, you follow the Rattenfänger. Okay?"
"Jaaa!" the children cheered.
"Let´s go then. Pied Piper, are you ready?"
Carter shrugged Freddy down from his back. "Right. But Colonel, what do I play?"
"Anything you like. Just keep playing."
Newkirk took hold of Freddy´s paw, too, and the friendly chimp jumped up and down with excitement.
And Carter, he took a good, deep breath.
Then he slowly lifted the small harmonica to his lips and...
The children cheered as the first hesitant notes trilled through the street. Carter started walking – dancing, or even skipping would soon leave him out of breath if he needed to keep playing as well.
And on the happy notes of Turkey in the Straw, the cheering band of children followed him. They skipped and laughed and clapped their hands. It was a real feast, and a real joy to watch.
Hogan, standing at the side, crossed his arms. A smile tugged at his lips. These kids, pale and thin as they were after a long winter full of hardship and hunger, these kids still knew what happiness was. They could still sing and dance and play. As if war did not exist; as if the whole world was at peace. Yet many of these kids didn´t even have a memory of peace: a world at war was the only world they knew.
But look at them now. Eyes shining, cheeks all rosy... and a heart that grasped every occasion for joy and happiness in the dark world around them.
All of a sudden he wondered what would become of them. Orphans, the lot of them. In an impoverished and totally destroyed country. Who would take care of them? Would anyone higher up care about these kids – Germany´s future – once the country would try to raise from the ashes once more? Or would all the money, all the efforts, go to the revival of the economy?
And if a small town like Hamelburg had so many orphans of war... how many would there be in all of Germany?
A sudden extra loud cheer arose him from his reverie. The group had by now proceeded down the street, and there, behind the conifer hedge of the zookeeper´s house, two bald heads on a long neck, and a black and white horsehead came dancing towards the street.
"It´s the animals from the zoo! He´s taking the animals from the zoo! He´s a real Rattenfänger!" the children cried.
Indeed: proudly the two ostriches stepped onto the road, followed by the zebra. They joined in the procession, walking next to the kids and a few dogs and cats Hogan now noticed had joined the group as well. Apparently Carter was casting some real spell here with his music...
Some of the kids tried to pet the newcomers, but others pushed them along: "Come on, we´ve got to follow the Rattenfänger!" And as it was, the animals followed the Rattenfänger as well.
When Carter turned the corner toward the Hauptstraße out of town, and the music of Turkey in the Straw came fainter and fainter, Hogan spurred into action again.
"Right. You ladies in the truck. And those little kids. You got all the blankets you need?"
Everyone climbed inside. There was room enough for more people, so passers-by on their way to the bridge were invited to get into the truck as well.
And finally, near the stroke of three, Hammond turned the key to start the now heavily loaded truck. Out of a quickly emptying Hamelburg. On the way to freedom and safety.
xxx
"Get moving." Kinch pointed his Luger at Randall. "And no funny business. Understood?"
He pushed the point of his gun into Randall´s back as the fallen officer slowly moved out of his cell.
His clique and his sympathizers were already out in the corridor, he saw. Like him, all dressed in high ranking German uniforms: Gestapo, SS, Abwehr, Wehrmacht...
Captain Martin was standing at the exit. And every German-dressed prisoner and his guard stopped a few moments in front of him before stepping outside.
"Is he taking notes or something?" Randall grunted to Kinch.
But Kinch deigned not to reply. Randall would find out soon enough when it was his turn.
The American captain looked at him with stern disdain when Randall stepped up to him. He held out his hand. "Your dogtags, please."
Randall straightened haughtily. "Never. Don´t you know, man, that a soldier is not allowed to remove those? Ever?"
Martin looked him calmly in the eye. "Exactly. That´s why I´m taking them for now. Your dogtags, please."
Randall spit on the floor. "Never."
"Fine." Martin pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and while Kinch undid the safety-catch of his gun, he swiftly shackled Randall´s hands behind his back. For a moment Randall tried to fight him, but the gunpoint pressing into his back, together with Kinch´s quiet voice saying: "You live because of the Kommandant, Randall. Not because of me," were enough to remind him of the awkward situation he was in.
"Now let me take your dogtags," Martin´s voice drooled sarcastically.
Randall´s eyes shot daggers, but there was nothing he could do to stop the insolent captain.
"Right. Take him outside, Sergeant. He stays cuffed."
With the gun still in his back, Randall was pushed outside. He blinked at the bright afternoon-light.
There were his men. All of them dressed in German uniforms and guarded by two armed men. And... by a fiercely barking dog each.
A tiny little Frenchman stepped up to him. He looked down on the little fellow with disdain – how could anyone let such a miserable little creature fight a war?!
"I warn you, colonel." The dwarf´s excessive emphasis on his rank made it clear that he had little respect for him. "Don´t try anything funny. Those dogs are killers. And they happened to be trained not to like anyone wearing a German uniform."
Randall looked at the dog the little guy had on a short leash. And he froze.
A sickening madness blinked in the beast´s eyes. The growl was deep and dangerous, and the curled upper lip revealed a set of horribly blinking teeth.
"Good boy," Schultz said as he saw the fear on Randall´s face grow. "Now you come with me, sir. And I warn you: I may not look like a ruthless killer, but I´ve already eliminated one guy who was torturing the Kommandant. I promise you that I will not hesitate to do it again!"
One hasty glance at the puffy face next to him was enough to convince Randall that the big sergeant was not bluffing.
Not at all.