Chapter 10

Light shined through the limbs of the dravf oak like silken strands through a lover's fingers and found Newkirk already up and packing up his gear in the small travel bag. He was dressed again the uniform pants, bootless and shirtless, intending to shave after he polished the boots to a spit shine. He had already had one cigarette and was lighting up the second one for the day when he heard footsteps outside his door. Picking up his pencil sharpener and keeping it handy, he went to the peephole in the door and spotted Gretchen moving from room to room leaving a paper in front of each door that held an occupant. His was the last room she visited before turning to leave for the kitchen. He watched as she hesitated and then turned around approaching his door. When he saw her turning around, he quickly moved to his uniform blouse and put his pencil sharpener in its hidden sheath in the coat. And, before she could knock, the door opened revealing a shirtless, slightly disheveled Anton wearing an amused smile. "Guten morgen, liebchen. How are you this morning?"

She was blushing at the site before her as she replied, "Guten morgen, Anton."

He motioned for her to enter the room, which she did. He closed the door behind her and almost walked into her. She'd stopped when she saw the travel bag on the floor and his uniform blouse hanging on the back of the door. "You're leaving?" she asked

"I was going to tell you at breakfast this morning. I have to get on the train and get home. This is my first leave in six months, and I'm anxious to get home," he said turning her as he slipped his arms around her waist.

"But, you still have till tonight...was it something I..." she stammered.

He bent his head and captured her lips with his. The kiss deepened, and soon they were breaking for air. "It is nothing you've done, liebe. I was planning on leaving this morning when I checked in on Friday. I want to spend more time with you; nothing would make me happier. It's just that need to get home and check on my family, and I only have so much leave time left." He let his arms hold her tighter against him, so she could feel how true his words were.

She raised her head and saw him smiling a happy grin. She blushed once more and moved her arms to encircle his neck. She kissed him again.

Lying on the bed, as close to him as she could get without being on top of him, she sighed into his chest. She was not looking forward to the coming week being alone again, she decided as she absently made circles on his stomach with her finger. Her head jostled as he laughed. "You're tickling me, liebchen," he said in-between gasping for breath.

"Really," she said as she giggled and tickled him all the more.

"So you want to play that way, eh?" He got a wicked gleam in his eyes and started tickling her back in earnest. Soon they were both gasping for air and giggling like little kids in a candy store. "Yield," he said breathlessly, "You win. I give up."

She pulled back to look at him closer and said in all seriousness, "Will I see you again, Anton?"

He closed the space between them and again claimed her lips. "Ja, you will. I promise, liebe. I will come back to you as soon as I have more leave. And, I will stay safe." He moved the strands of hair out of her face and met her eyes, "I promise."

She kissed him again and then disengaged herself from his arms. Gathering her clothes from the floor where they'd fallen earlier, she got dressed and was doing her hair into bun, while he moved from the bed and retrieved his clothes from the floor. He put on his shirt while surreptitiously buckling the arm sheath for his smaller knife onto his left forearm. Then, he came to sit by her on the bed and took the brush from her hands. "Let me," he whispered into her neck. He brushed out her long dark hair then handed her the brush. Deftly, she put it into the sensible bun he'd seen her wearing the afternoon they first met. They sat side by side for brief moment while he pulled on his combat boots. They hadn't gotten spit polished, but they were cleaner than his regular boots. He stood and put on his tie. She came to him and tied it for him. Finally, he put on his uniform blouse and weapons belt. His service luger was in the snapped holster. Finally, his cover was looped in the belt until it was needed for outside. Newkirk stooped to retrieve his travel bag, and then he followed her to the door taking mental inventory of all the items not on display: the cigarettes, the new lighter were in the bottom of his travel bag, his pencil sharpener in its place on his back between his shoulder blades, and his smaller knife in its sheath on his arm for easy reach. He followed her down the stairs to the reception desk. There he pulled out his billfold and laid out the twenty marks for the room, as well as four hundred marks leaving his billfold almost empty.

"Four hundred marks? But we agreed on two hundred marks...?"

"I don't need it, and you do. I already have my train ticket; it's round trip, so I don't have to buy another one. Mother will send food for me to eat on the return trip, so I won't need money for food. Please take the money, liebchen. I try to send more when I get back to the Front when I get paid if I can," he said sincerely.

She felt her eyes tear up as he placed the money in her hands. She didn't want him to go because she was convinced she'd never see him again. Yet, when she looked into his eyes, she saw them twinkling with not quite love, but something else. Happiness, maybe? She couldn't bring herself to speak due to the emotions roiling up inside her. She nodded her head and managed, "A loan...only. I pay you back."

"Of course, mein liebe. You pay me back when you see me again, which will be soon, I promise," he said as he stepped around the desk and hugged her to him quickly. "I must go now." A few minutes later, the hostel was noticeably quieter.

Newkirk made his way along the route to the train station looking all the while like a soldier on leave for the first time in a long time. He looked around without meeting any early bird travelers' eyes. When he'd told Gretchen he had a ticket to Fuchsstadt, he hadn't been lying. He did have a ticket; he just planned on getting off the train while it was still in the station. Once he was seated inside the open coach where other soldiers lounged waiting for the train to start, he acted like he'd suddenly was ill and moved to the restroom. On the way, the ticket collector stopped him, noticed his visible sweating and obvious nausea, punched the ticket and directed the soldier to the bathroom at the end of the train. One soldier pretty much looked like the other to him after twenty five years on the trains, so this particular one was not noticed when he didn't return to the car, and made sure he was not seen as he cautiously exited the train right before it took off. He made it to the woods close to the train tracks and from there back tracked to the road leading out of Hammelberg and back home to Stalag 13 and his family.