I love the Sound of Music and I was watching it for the millionth time a few weeks ago and wondered whatever happened to the Baroness. Since I wasn't alive during WWII and I've never been to Europe please disregard any war/geography facts that don't make sense. Thanks and enjoy
Disclaimer: I don't own the Sound of Music, Maria, Georg, the Baroness, the real von Trapp's or any of the other brilliant Rogers and Hammerstein characters.
The Baroness Elsa Schreader took a deep breath and plunged herself into the cold, foul smelling canal water. At the first her body moved swiftly and effortlessly upstream toward the little town of Lisieux where she knew the French Resistance had a secret outpost. Within minutes the icy black chill of the water began to seep into her skin and slow her swimming. Beneath the water she felt her leg make contact with the slimy silk of underwater planet life. Her arm and face were scratched by dead branches from trees lining the canal path. Despite the smell, the cold, and the dangerous sounds of gun shots from somewhere beyond in the black starless night Elsa swam on.
Here in the still canal water beneath the overcast sky she was not the Baroness. She was no longer a woman of fashion and class or money and fame. She was only a woman determined to complete the task before her.
Near the bank she heard low voices mumbling in German. She touched her feet to the bottom of the canal bed noticing she had lost a shoe as her stockinged foot made contact with the muddy ground. The chattering of her teeth was loud in her ears and she clenched them tightly to stop from being heard. Behind the tall cat-tail grass she waited until the voices died away.
Lisieux was only a few miles upstream. If she could reach the French she knew they would have to help her. No one with any heart could leave a hundred or so odd orphan children to the care of the Nazis.
As Elsa glided through the shallow water she found herself thinking of things she pushed from her mind long ago. Why had she offered her country home near Paris to the aid of the young orphans? Why had she not rejected the Revered Mother when she kept sending more and more orphans to the safe haven? The sight of the vagabond group of youngsters was too much for her to ignore. She was the Baroness, true, but she had a heart, after all.
Jumbled and flashing images began to fill her mind then. She knew the cold and fatigue was taking its toll on her. She knew she would have to leave the safety of the water soon and venture to land to get her bearings. If she ventured into the street and was captured by the Germans she hated to think what might happen to her. Elsa was no fool, she had heard stories of what happened to men and women alike for defecting. Georg risked his life and the life of his family to escape to Switzerland.
Elsa suddenly saw the face of Maria von Trapp. They were back in Austria and the governess was standing drenched from head to foot and facing Georg with courage rare from someone of her rank. Then, later in the governess' room, Maria's were eyes full of fear and angst. Elsa had wronged her that day. The baroness was a bit ashamed it took the cold shock of canal water to reveal such a truth to her. If she lived, she vowed to apologize to Maria, no matter what the pain or humiliation. She would go to Switzerland. She would purchase an estate there. She had to get away from Paris, and she dared not go back to Vienna after tonight.
The memories started coming quicker now. Elsa remembered the face of Henry Schreader on their wedding day. The look of joy he wore remained when he found out he would be a father. His drunken look of despair was the clearest expression in Elsa mind. His face was far too old for a man of his age. It was the last she saw him before his death.
The kind eyes of Georg brought a smile to her colorless lips as she pushed through a thick patch of tangled seaweed. Max Detweiler laughed at her situation and she felt the strength to press on a little further. What would Max say if he could see her now? Elsa might have laughed if her lungs had not felt so frozen. No, she would not tell anyone of this if she lived. Aside from having no real friends to tell the story to, no one would believe her anyway.
The next face to flash in her mind hit her with such force she kicked her legs violently in response. The stone chiseled features of the face she had long since tried to forget was what drove her from the water. His wild condescending voice put power in her limbs as she climbed up the bank. The dark eyes watching her form from across the ballroom pushed her down the gravel road. The longing for the sweet caresses he had never uttered brought her out of her fatigue induced daydreaming.
White letters painted on a brown sign sticking out from behind the fork in the road gave Elsa more hope than she had scarcely allowed herself after leaving her old grounds keeper with the children. He had offered to go for help, but he was an old man and his wife, a kindly old matron, had such a look of sadness at the thought. Elsa was the strongest of the adults. The oldest child, Beu, was only barely twelve years. The task, in her mind, had clearly fallen to her and she had never been one to shirk a responsibility.
Lisieux was just ahead according to the sign. Elsa kicked off her one remaining shoe and sprinted down the road as fast as she could. She was weak but she knew she would soon meet the Allies and the children would be rescued.
Two shots echoed in the still night air. Elsa felt instant pain, a pain so complete she lost control of her movements and stumbled to the ground, her arm skidding in the rocks. Dust filled the air and Elsa's lungs and stinging pain echoed throughout her tiny frame. The tears blurring her vision ran down her cheeks and she saw a tall ominous form leaning over her. She looked up into the face of a young boy. His German uniform was worn and his face fearful at the sight before him. He began to mutter something that sounded to Elsa like an apology when she was startled by another gun shot.
The boy's blue uniform began to darken in a large circle around his chest. He fell limply to the ground. Elsa wanted to sob for the horror of it all. She hated the war. She was not bred and raised to see men die before her eyes, or to embark on impossible missions to save the lives of others.
Three more forms approached from the direction of Lisieux.
"Yes, he's dead," said a French voice without feeling.
"Probably a straggler that got lost," said another stouter voice, "What was he shootin' at?"
"Blime, it's a dame," came the third voice, distinctly British. One of the figures bent down and Elsa was able to see his eyes. They too were worn but they looked kind and anxious.
"Are you alright ma'am?" the British man asked. The first man bent down and began removing bandages from his bag.
"Of course she is not alright, Joe, mon cherie has been shot in the leg," he said. The news came as a shock to Elsa. She glanced down at her leg following it until she saw blood covering her left calf. The solider quickly wrapped the white cloth around and it began to soak with blood.
"The children," Elsa said suddenly and saw the surprise on their faces. "A group of orphan children, about a hundred of them. We've been hiding in the old Millstreet Theater. They haven't have food or water for at least two days and we couldn't move them because of the fighting. You have to get them out. Please, please go to them. They—"
"Alright, alright ma'am," said the stout voice, "Don't you worry. We know where they are now. We'll get 'em out. You just rest now. You've done your part, and a mighty brave part it was. They shall tell your story for years to come."
Elsa relaxed a little at his words and she tried to remain in a sitting position but the cold and the loss of blood forced her to lie down. She wasn't sure how long she was on the road to Lisieux because the next thing she remembered was waking in a warm hospital bed her whole body aching and her leg screaming in the fiercest torment she had ever known.