R+R Please
The pain was intense. It was as if the flames were still licking at his back, singeing his hair and blistering his skin. He was lying in a bed of some description staring up at the stark, white canvas of a large awning. His last recollections were of him being dragged from his burning SE5 which must have ignited shortly before he regained consciousness. He was unsure of where he was, and how long he had been passed out for.
He heard a nurse talking gently to the soldier lying, swathed in bandages, beside him. He did not recognize the language used. It had a slight guttural sound to it. No. It couldn't be. He was in Germany!
He looked over himself to see whatever damage had been done. His left shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages and the top half of his tunic was missing but other that, he seemed to be perfectly fine. At least nothing was missing.
His stay in the various stages of the medical chain was short lived and he found himself on his way to a POW camp. Little did he know, the camp he was destined for was notorious for deaths, each one shrouded in more mystery than the last. For 2nd Lieutenant Tom Talbot, the war to end all wars was going to take a very unexpected turn indeed.
He made the journey in the back of a truck, and each and every rut in the road made the truck jolt, jarring his freshly healed shoulder terribly, despite that the wound had only been a severe graze. Somehow, he managed to sleep through most of this, although, that may have been from exhaustion because of the incessant screams emitting from the other beds which nearly drove him to insanity.
The squeal of unoiled hinges and the slam of doors brought him back from his fitful sleep, and he was motioned to get out of the truck by the rather sour kraut, who had been his untalkative travelling companion. After the rattling of chains and grinding of metal, the gates to the Offizierlager had swung back and he walked through them, taking in the primitive huts, and the single brick building that must serve as accommodation for the Germans, assigned to prevent them from going on any nighttime wanderings. The Feldwebel walked him over to this building, and he was led through innumerable corridors before coming to a room, bare, except for a cheap, badly made desk and chair that squatted on the ground before him.
Before long, an officer walked in with the air of nonchalance that comes from bored experience. He was young and had a 5'o'clock shadow ghosting his cheeks. He shuffled some papers and sat down with barely a glance in Tom's direction.
"Your name?" the officer inquired in quite good English.
"Talbot, Sir," Tom replied nervously.
"Rank?"
"2nd Lieutenant."
"Squadron?"
Tom shook his head.
"I'm afraid you'll have to find that out for yourself," he replied.
"Number?"
"44018"
"I shall ask you again, what is your squadron?" he demanded.
Tom shook his head again.
"It will pay for you to answer my questions!" he said harshly, on the verge of losing his temper.
Tom eyed him coolly, inwardly smirking at the officer's short temper.
"My name, rank and number I have told you, and that, as you know, is as much as I am obliged to tell you under the rules of war. To save you from wasting your breath, I may as well say now that I do not intend to impart any further information of any sort. I trust you will take my word. Just think what you would do should the positions be reversed."
"Be warned that if you continue to be this uncooperative, it will not go unrecognized, we have suitable means of punishment… even for officers such as yourself," he remarked with a sneer and a sardonic glint in his eyes. With that last remark he stood and left. Tom was led back out onto a large, bare patch of ground that must act as a parade square as men were beginning to congregate in vague ranks and files, there was a group slightly detached from the rest, in earnest conversation. Once they had got into something somewhat resembling 3 flights, another German officer marched out onto the square and addressed everyone in perfect English.
"Men, as always, I would like to remind you that should any of you have any information regarding escape plans, murders, garrotings, harassment and general behaviour unbecoming of officers and gentlemen, I should like you to report it either to myself directly or through the chain of command," he said with the general air of lightheartedness. What worried Tom was that these things seemed to be normal. "Also, I have a new friend, plaything, toy, for you, the young 2nd Lieutenant to my left," he remarked casually with a wave in Tom's general direction. He felt very self-conscious. "I am sure you will all do your utmost to make him feel most welcome," he continued. "Leading on, there is no news on the alleged British attack either from our side or yours, you will be sorry to hear. This continued stalemate means we will be staying where we are for the foreseeable future. As for any gatherings after lights out, you will be punished accordingly if found, and if there is any material pertaining to certain midnight strolls you might wish to take on the other side of the wire, please do be assured that you will be dealt with harshly. That's all from me, so I hope you continue to enjoy your stay." He finished with the tone of a hotel receptionist, which seemed suitable for he supposed they had just 'checked in' on a more permanent basis.
The escorting German NCOs followed in the wake of the officer leaving Tom to go and acquaint himself with the others in the camp.
POW- Prisoner Of War
Offizierlager- Prison camp designed for officers rather than enlisted men
Feldwebel- German NCO rank equivalent to Sergeant
NCO- Non-Commissioned Officer i.e. Corporal, Sergeant