PETER AND ANJA, CHAPTER 22: HOMEWARD BOUND
Peter and Anja sat huddled together, sniffling and coughing on a pile of laundry with two sleeping children and a dog nestled with them. Hannelore was curled up in the crook of Peter's arm; Snuffy was on her lap. Joshka, his head barely peeping out from a bag of linens, was leaning against Anja, feeling her warmth and seeing Peter's reassuring eyes.
It was morning, and the normal rhythms of commerce were beginning to clog up the roads. They passed uneventfully through two checkpoints as Papa Bear wove his story of a broken-down car, distraught parents, an old woman, and three pitiful children and a dog. Each time they stopped, they pushed Joshka down under the laundry bags and held their breath.
It was at the third stop that an elderly civilian inspector at the checkpoint got a little too nosy. He ordered everyone out of the vehicle. Everyone complied except for Peter, who sprawled out over a laundry pile, coughing pathetically under a blanket. Joshka was behind him, propping him up from inside a laundry bag.
"Come out of there, boy," the inspector said impatiently. Peter groaned and coughed in response and made a feeble attempt to get onto his knees, but collapsed back in a heap.
Hogan came around to the back. "It's best to leave him alone," he said. "We've come from the Dolhain Sanitorium in Limbourg. His case was too severe to be handled there. His parents are taking him to the coast to… to see the sea once more," he said with a pitying tone.
"Under Gestapo guard? For tuberculosis? In a laundry van?"
"As you can clearly see from his papers, Herr Becker has an important role to play in service to the Third Reich in the indoctrination of the Belgian Royal Family. We could not waste time waiting for auto repairs and obviously, the boy has very little… well, the least we can do is assist the Beckers in bringing their son to a place where he can rest."
"In peace," Peter interjected sourly. "You meant Rest in Peace. You're all trying to get rid of me" He continued to cough horribly, hacking something into his hand.
"Oh, Arno, please don't exert yourself," Frau Witman said, moving toward the vehicle.
"Please," Hogan said, holding her back with one arm. "Let the inspector handle this." He turned to the man. "A mother's instinct, you know. She must protect her child."
"Get back inside," the inspector said. "And be off. Don't get out of the vehicle again until you reach your destination. We don't need you spreading germs. Stay six feet away from everyone, you hear me? And get a face mask!"
"Well, that was a fine bit of acting, Peter," Hogan said as they rumbled down the road. He turned to see him, still slumped against the bag, sniffling. "Hey, we're past the checkpoint. You can stop now."
Anja laid a hand on Peter's head. "I'm not sure how much of that was acting. He's burning with fever, Sir," she said.
Peter gave her a sharp look. "I'm fine. It's just a cold, and I'm no worse than you are," he said.
"That isn't saying much," Anja said. She leaned to press an ear to his chest, then tipped back up, addressing Peter and Hogan, who was looking at her intently now. "It's not a cold, not with a fever and such a bad cough. I think you have bronchitis, Peter, and I'm right behind you," she said.
"It's nothing to worry about," Peter grumbled.
"There's nothing we can do, in any case," Anja said. "Move over." She slid in next to him, her head on his shoulder. "Just rest while we can, alright?"
Peter smiled at the closeness of her. But behind him, there was a rustle in the laundry sacks.
"Could you get off me, please, Peter? You're crushing me," Joshka said.
"Oh, sorry, little mate," Peter said as he shifted to give the boy room to move and breathe.
Hannelore, who was seated beside Peter, grinned and pulled Joshka out by one arm. "Come on Joshka, you can sit with me," she said. "We might as well get to know one another before we get on the submarine. Do you know any string games? Because I can teach you."
XXX
Peter took a deep breath of ocean air as he stepped out of the van in a seaside churchyard. He immediately started coughing again, but there was something soothing about the salt air, and the harsh, barking cough he'd had earlier was now looser. Anja linked arms with his, and, surrounded by the children and Snuffy, they entered the old convent that would shelter the Witmans until night fall.
Everyone was acutely aware that they would part ways soon, and after days together, it was no ordinary leave-taking. Hannelore and Peter and Anja had all grown immensely fond of one another, and that closeness filled Hannelore's parents with warmth toward the team that had taken such good care of them, the grandmother, and their dear daughter.
They were herded into the convent library, a spacious room with three exits, including one that led to the sleeping quarters above. They were to hide on the stairs if anyone arrived unexpectedly.
Hannelore pulled Peter to one side as her parents and Colonel Hogan huddled at a table nearby, in a heated discussion. Hogan was adamant about something; Herr Witman looked embarrassed; and Frau Witman was casting wistful glances at the children in the room, first at Hannelore, then at Joshka. In another corner of the room, Anja held Joshka's hand and chatted quietly with the old grandmother. Hannelore had Peter to herself for a moment.
"Joshka talks like you do," she whispered.
"Yes," Peter whispered back. "It's called a stammer. Do you know about it?"
"He repeats sounds and… and…"
"And he gets stuck on words like I do," he said, gently tucking a dangling strand of hair behind her ear. "The best thing you can do is not interrupt him. Just let him finish, alright? And don't look away or make him feel bad about it. He'll get his words out eventually, like I do."
He looked at her sweet, round face, knowing that if he saw her again in a year or two she would look very different –more like a woman than a child.
Hannelore processed what Peter had said. "You mean I should treat him like he's anyone else, even though he stammers and he wears that…"
"That Star of David. Yes, love. He IS like everyone else."
"Peter, I've never been around a Jewish boy," Hannelore said apprehensively.
"Well, I have. There are loads of Jewish families where I grew up, and I promise you, they are just like everyone else. You've just been taught that they're bad. But I wasn't taught that, you know," Peter said.
"You weren't?" Hannelore looked incredulously.
"No, and you won't be taught that when you go to school in England…"
"Scotland," Hannelore said bitterly.
"Och, aye, Scotland," Peter said in his best brogue. "Well, lassie, ye won't be taught that there either. You'll be taught that we're all the same. That's we're all children of God, Hannelore." Then he smiled. "Annie Laurie, I mean."
She threw herself against his chest. "I'm going to miss you, Peter," she said through tears.
"Me too," Peter replied, stroking her hair. "I have little brothers, but I never had a little sister. If I had, I'd like her to be just like you." With that, he began waltzing her around the room, softly humming Annie Laurie.
After a few spins around the room, they sat together, pulling Anja and Joshka in with them, laughing and chatting and doing cat's cradle and Jacob's ladder until Colonel Hogan came over and left no doubt. It was time to go.
Peter got up and shook hand with Herr Witman, then bowed slightly in the German fashion to Frau Witman and the old lady. He went to Joshka next, scooped him up in his arms, and told promised to find him in England after the war. Then he took Hannelore by the hand, twirled her, gathered her close, and whispered in her ear. "I'm taking you to a tea dance the minute you turn sixteen." She beamed at him, knowing he meant every word.
Suddenly Snuffy barked, and Hannelore scrambled to get him. She picked him up, nuzzled his furry face, put on his collar and leash, and walked slowly to Anja.
"Please take him," she said. "Herr Tierarzt already knows him, and he can play with your other dogs."
Anja took him, then wrapped an arm around Hannelore. "We'll take the very best care of him. You'll see him again."
"No, I don't think I shall," Hannelore said. "But maybe you can send me a photograph. He'll be alright, and I'm thankful for what I do have. My parents and my granny and …"
"And Joshka," Frau Witman said. "As long as he wants to be with us."
XXX
The train to Würzburg left punctually at 10:36 A.M., and the return trip required less stealth than the journey north had taken. Hogan remained in his Gestapo plainclothes, but his new identity showed him to be the father of the two Becker children with whom he was traveling. It would take seven hours to get there, but soon they were on a straight shot, and Schnitzer would pick them up at the station, then reunite the prisoners with Sergeant Schultz.
Hogan took a corner seat by the window; Peter sat next to him, and Anja beside Peter. It wasn't exactly a Pullman car with wide, cozy seats; train travel in wartime was barebones. But the seat was covered in a plush blue fabric, and there were no rails to separate one from the next, so Peter leaned into Hogan, and Anja into Peter. Both youngsters were exhausted, Hogan realized. As they closed their eyes, the steady rumble of the train rocked them to sleep although it was broad daylight.
Hogan, ever alert, wrapped a protective arm over Peter's shoulder and rested his hand on Anja's head, and Snuffy curled at his feet. All that remained was to return Anja to her aunt and uncle, and to get safely to camp. No, that wasn't all, he thought, with regret. Peter had "escaped." He was facing a week or longer in the cooler.
He ran a hand over Peter's forehead; it was very warm, and he could hear a rattling in the dozing boy's chest. Hogan sighed. He worried about all his men, but with Peter there was always the extra layer of worry that came with being his guardian. He was a sturdy boy, Hogan reminded himself. But he'd prefer to keep him nearby when he was sick, not locked away in a dank, musty, cold cell. Anja was flushed and feverish too, but Hogan knew that she would be in good hands as soon as Mathilde got hold of her. He wished he could say the same for Peter.