Chapter Seventeen
Maria stayed awake the entire night, her mind whirling with possibilities. This was her worst fear realized, Georg injured and alone without her to nurse him. He would be home soon, she kept telling herself that. He would be home soon, and he would be alive.
Dr. Skinner was not sure of the time the crew would arrive with their Captain so as early as 6am he had his men prepping. Maria was admittedly surprised at his fervent determination. He'd resolved himself to making sure Georg received the best possible care even though Maria was certain the Reich warned him of their suspicions about Georg. Not that Wladyslaw would mention that to her, he would simply fulfill his duty.
All seven von Trapp children had, by breakfast, been informed of their father's injury and impending arrival, granted it was watered down for eight- and six-year-old minds. Only baby Lucas was free from the fear associated with Georg's injury and even he, who seemed to continuously fuss was not unscathed.
Maria tried to keep herself busy as the time slowly ticked by. When the phone rang about 11am, she felt her stomach drop. This could be the call she was waiting for or the call she dreaded. It turned out, it was both.
Dr. Skinner took the call and came to find Maria when he was finished.
"Maria," he addressed her in a very businesslike manner. "That phone call was from Salzburg. There was a skirmish in the city with about forty wounded, Nazi and common folk. Uh, we've been instructed to receive these casualties."
"Was Georg…?" Maria began.
"The detail escorting him sustained two casualties, but the lieutenant said Georg wasn't injured further," Dr. Skinner replied.
Maria sighed with relief, "What can I do?"
"Um, we're going to need assistance. You can help by um, your housekeeper, you, and your oldest daughters can work as nurses during triage. My men are setting up triage points in the foyer."
"All right. How long?" she asked thankful for a task to occupy his mind.
"Twenty minutes," Dr. Skinner replied. "Meet me in the foyer."
Maria instructed Friedreich and Brigitta to keep the other children in their rooms while she, Liesl, Louisa and Frau Schmidt helped Dr. Skinner.
"Not under any circumstances are any of you to come downstairs," Maria warned.
"Mother, what about Frau Schreiner?" Friedreich asked in a hushed whisper.
"Max has her out to Vienna visiting with her sister. She won't be back until tomorrow. Just do as I ask and don't worry about anything else," Maria said.
Friedreich quickly nodded and kept himself occupied entertaining the younger siblings.
Once the wounded started arriving the fear Maria had been feeling started to dissipate, for her mind became occupied by the doctors, the orderlies, and the patients swirling about her. She'd never thought there could be so much blood, so much suffering in one place. That it was in her own home was even more sobering.
Maria's mind was hyperfocused on doing all she could to help these poor people, as if that service would appease the Lord and allow Georg less pain and suffering. It was so busy, Maria didn't know when the Captain arrived. Dr. Skinner saw to him at once, but Maria and the girls were occupied with other matters. Maria reasoned if their help made it so Dr. Skinner could focus on Georg, she could stand the wait. it wasn't until much later until Maria was actually able to see Dr. Skinner and ask about Georg's condition.
Once things settled down in the late afternoon, Maria cleaned the blood off her hands and changed her ruined dress before searching for Dr. Skinner. She found him alone in the upstairs study.
"Wladyslaw?" Maria started softly. He looked tired, tired and defeated.
"Maria," he sighed. "I suppose you'd be inquiring about Georg?"
Maria nodded, "Yes, I 'm anxious to see him and to know about his condition."
"Of course, your helping me kept you long enough from your duty as a wife," he acknowledged.
"It was my duty as a wife to assist my husband comrades," Maria replied.
Dr. Skinned walked with her up to the east wing, all the while talking to her. When she said those last words, something inside of him, an iron coil that had helped him hold his silence snapped, "Drop the act, Maria! I know all about it."
Maria paused and stared at him, her expression three parts shock and one part horror. "I don't know what you mean," Maria hastily replied, trying to keep her cover.
"Don't act stupid!" Dr. Skinner warned. "And don't be coy. I can't help you if you're not straight with me."
"Doctor, I really have no what you're talking about. I do, however, resent…"
"I know everything, Maria," Dr. Skinner whispered fiercely in non-accented English. "I heard it all."
If Maria ever felt faint in her life, it was in that moment. The doctor's English held no hint of the heavy Germanic accent Georg's held and his sentences seemed effortless, unlike her choppy phrases. It could only mean one thing, English was his native language.
"Who are you?" Maria asked, with fear in her voice. "What are you?"
"You can't know that," he replied. "Just know this…your family's secret is safe. I'll see to it your family is safe, your children, your husband…"
"How? Why should I trust you? How do I know you're not setting us up? How do I know you're not dangerous? How do I know that at this very minute you aren't trying to get me to say something that isn't…something…"
"You know because you've already let your guard down. You know me, Maria." His eyes were insistent, and she could see the truth and sincerity in the brown depths
"Do I? Do I really? Because not one word you're saying makes any sense to me," Maria told him. "Now, drop this…this madness, and tell me about my husband."
"Maria, this is important. It is vitally important you listen to me. I heard your son confess to you last night. I heard him name Helga Schreiner and I know that your family's loyalties are not with the Third Reich," Dr. Skinner revealed in a whisper. "I also know I can help get you out of here, because if he lives Maria, you'll have to get out of Austria, and you can never come back."
Everything Dr. Skinner said before and everything he said since after was lost on Maria. The only words that stuck were "if he lives."
"What do you mean "if"?" Maria hastily questioned.
"Before you see the Captain let me explain. During the battle, the sub sustained a hit to the engine room which caused it to catch on fire. Georg was knocked unconscious, and his men were quick to tend to him, but not quick enough to keep him from inhaling smoke or to keep him from sustaining burns to the chest and upper legs. His forearms also have some minor burns."
Maria gasped and covered her mouth as if to suppress a scream, "Oh God! Is he in pain or…"
"We're managing it, but I'm afraid the travel needed to bring him here caused an infection. He has a very high fever," Dr. Skinner told her. "However, he is strong, and he has been conscious a few times. He's asked to see you. Go on in."
Taking a deep breath, Maria opened the door. She knew the extend of Georg's injuries but the sight of him lying in bed, chest covered in gauzy bandages, forearms invisible under similar if not lighter bandages turned her stomach. His forehead was glistening with perspiration and his normally healthy looking complexion was pale from fever. It was almost too much for her to take.
Dr. Skinner stayed close behind her and guided her to the chair next to the Captain's bed. Gently, Maria placed her hand on the Georg's upper arm.
"Georg. Georg, its Maria, Darling," she said softly.
The Captain's eyes were closed but through the fever, the pain, and the drugs he heard a soft voice and felt a gentle touch. That voice wanted something. It wanted him to do something. What did it want? He focused when it came again.
"Georg, open your eyes for me, Darling. Please, open your eyes let me see you're all right," Maria nearly begged through the tears clogging her throat.
Open his eyes. That is what the voice wanted. He recognized that voice, he cherished its sound as he did the gentle touch, he could feel on his arm He could oblige that voice, he had to oblige it. He could open his eyes, it shouldn't be too hard.
It seemed to take a great deal of effort to get Georg to open his eyes. Maria coaxed him, and finally his eyes fluttered open and meet hers.
"Maria?" he rasped, his voice hoarse from lack of water and the damage of the smoke he'd inhaled.
"Yes, Darling. I'm here. You're home now and everything is going to be all right," she comforted.
"Maria," the Captain said again, his voice still holding authority in spite of his position. "The children…the letter…" It was difficult for him to speak, he had difficulty breathing and the medication was making his brain foggy.
Maria could hear the deep wheezes as Georg took breaths into his damaged lungs. When cataloging Georg's more minor injuries, Wladyslaw had said his voice could be permanently altered.
"I have the letter to the children. It's all right. You rest. Don't try to speak," Maria soothed gently, reaching to wipe his brow with a cold cloth.
"No. Maria," Georg said. "Read the letter." Those three words came out as strongly as anything he'd ever said to her. His tone reminded her of the time he not so gallantly told her, "Bedtime will be strictly observed in this house." Maria recalled Georg's written orders not to share those words unless he died. Now his command to share them frightened her as much as it pleased her. She did want the children to hear their father's words while he was still alive.
Rewetting the cloth and moving it soothingly across his brow, Maria promised, "I'll read the letter. Georg, I promise. Now rest, darling. Rest and get well."
The Captain fell back to sleep, but Maria remained at his side for a while longer. It made her feel better to watch his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and to hear his occasional murmur. Finally, after two hours, Frau Schmidt came for her.
"Baroness," she spoke gently. "Your children are asking about their father. I don't know what to tell them."
Maria sighed, "I best see about them. Frau Schmidt, please stay with the Captain."
The loyal housekeeper nodded and sat in the chair Maria had just vacated. Those poor children were terrified, even Liesl, her father's daughter, was outwardly nervous. They needed their mother's reassurance.
Maria sat with the children in their rooms, just holding them for a moment, letting them give her comfort as she comforted them. Finally, Brigitta called the question, "Mother, how is Father?"
"Sit down children. Liesl, bring Lucas to me, please," Maria instructed.
Liesl did so, then sat on the settee with Gretel in her lap. She could feel what her mother was about to reveal.
"Children, your Father is very sick. He was injured in the battle and now his wounds have become infected. I know it sounds bad, but he was awake, and he was talking. Dr. Skinner thinks everything is going to be okay," Maria said quickly. She let it all rush out in one breath then paused a moment to let it sink in before she mentioned the letter.
"Before he left on his last deployment, he wrote me a long letter. That letter has a message for each one of you and he asked me to share them with you," Maria told them and took the folded paper from her apron pocket.
She skipped over the first portion of the letter that was strictly written to her, and began with the messages Georg wished to give his children
Liesl: It seems only yesterday that you were a tiny baby. Now, you are indeed, a gracious and glorious young woman. You are smart, beautiful, and remind so much of your mother, both of your mothers. You have Agathe's gentle grace, Maria's feisty spirit, and dare I say, my stubbornness. Lord save the man who decides to take you to wife; for his intelligence in choosing you and his safety if he dare to cross you. I'm glad you took that from me, Liesl, for I fear a will of iron and a heart of gold will be the only way to survive in the world that is being left to you. I rest well at night knowing that my beloved home, my beloved country, is in the capable hands of people, men and women like you. I'm proud to say that you are my child, Liesl. A father could not want for a better daughter.
Friedreich: What can I really say to my first born son? You and I have been having our differences lately, politically and otherwise, but I firmly believe that is because we are cut from the same cloth. You believe in what you believe in, and you'll challenge me or anyone else. Thus, I feel safe knowing that I raised you to make the right decisions and that I taught you how to be the man you are.
The other day, I was thinking about something my grandfather told my father when I decided to join the Navy. My father was against that, and his father told him, Heinrich, Navy man or business man, Georg is still your son. He could be Navy, Army, doctor, lawyer, Catholic or Lutheran, but he'll still be Georg. I should have listened to that wise advice as my father had. Whether German or Austrian, Nazi or not, you are still on the inside, below the label, my son, the son I raised. That's why I feel comfortable leaving you with the responsibility of the family, caring and guiding them down roads that will make me proud. I have faith in you, my son. I have pride in you.
Louisa: I forced myself to remember that everything I've disciplined you for doing, I've once done myself. I was the trouble maker, the prankster…they say the things you see in your children, the reasons you discipline them are the reasons you yourself may require correction. You are my tomboy, Louisa. You're the family's spirit, the family's humor, and the apple of my eye. Don't change that, Louisa. I know you'll grow and mature into a more refined lady, but I pray every day that hint of mischief stays in those eyes. I love you, Louisa, as you are. I know sometimes, I yell and complain that your behavior is not ladylike, but that doesn't change the fact that you're my daughter and I'm proud of that. Stay strong, Louisa. Don't ever compromise yourself, for anyone.
Kurt: I know you want to be a man, and I know that once it is time for that to be, you'll be a good one. You're my son, you have all of my attributes, including the wish to be ahead of you time. These times are precious, Kurt, these times can never be returned once they have been lost. Don't lose this precious time, Kurt. These are time to remember, the days to hold onto, the path that will take you from being an exceptional and obedient boy to an honorable and extraordinary man.
Brigitta: Oh, the dreams I have for you. I see you doing great things, daughter. Your mind is so exceptional, and your talent for music and all things is something to be proud of. I trust that in the next few years, as you mature even more, heaven help me, that you will be the lady I expect you to be. Never be afraid to show your intelligent, never let anyone stop you from being all you can be. We are verging on a modern time, and I see you, my girl, leading the pack. I love you, I'm proud to be your father. Know Brigitta, that either way, physically or not, I will be there to guide you, always. Your brain is a precious gift, use it. Make me proud.
Marta: My darling little lady. Although you are only 7-years old, you certainly could teach your sisters a thing or two on how to be a lady. I hate to admit it, but in a few years, boys will be knocking down our door to talk to you. You my angel, will have the grace and elegance every woman wishes she had...when you turn them all down.
Gretel: My sweet, baby girl... I cannot even begin to imagine all the wonderful things the Lord has in store for you! I only wish I knew I would be around to witness it all...regardless of where I am, I shall be watching over all of you, your seven brothers and sisters, and your mother. Please keep everyone happy, darling. If anyone can do it, it's you! I love you, Baby.
Lucas: To you, I must express my regrets, but I'm not afraid. I know you'll have excellent role models to follow, two exceptional men in Kurt and Friedreich to show you how to be a von Trapp, and six exceptional women, from your mother to your sisters to show you how to love and how to be compassionate, how to be a whole person. You already have so much potential, just look at your parentage. You sure did great in the Mom department, and if it's not too prideful to say, you didn't do too badly in the Father department either. You are this family's future, and though you are too young to understand this now, I know your mother will share this with you often. Do your best to follow in the footsteps of those before you and do your best to leave a legacy behind.
As Maria read the last lines to the baby boy in her arms, her tears began to cloud the writing on the paper. Liesl, the only child with dry eyes, took it from her and folded it.
Liesl took her father's words to her heart. She was his daughter and he'd loathe the idea that he'd made everybody cry. So, she did what her father would do, what Maria would do if she was able to see past the sadness of the letter. She moved and took the guitar out of its case. She sat down beside Gretel, she played a chord, and began to sing, "Raindrops on rose and whiskers on kittens."