Aftermath
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Three: Berga and Bad Orb

Pierson drove the three hours back to Berga. Stiles beside him was unusually quiet. "This has to be bigger than just Ohrdruff and Berga," Pierson said. "If they did this here, maybe they did other places, too."

"I don't know about POWs, well probably Russian ones. They didn't sign the Geneva Conventions," Stiles replied. "But civilians. There were articles in the papers, going back to the Nuremburg laws, Kristalnacht. They've had it in for Jews for a long time. And not just them. Political rivals like the communists. Anyone they'd consider inferior."

Pierson couldn't even imagine the numbers. "That's a hell of a lot of people."

"Yeah, they occupied most of Europe since 1939." Stiles turned to look at him. "I'd bet the Russians found other camps. They've already liberated Poland and other eastern countries, not to mention Russia itself."

They stopped at the main gate to the camp. The fires were out. "Thanks for bringing our truck back," one of the soldiers said. "Hey, Tom, they're back!"

"Thanks for taken care of our jeep," Pierson replied. The medic walked over to him.

"Did he make it?" Tom asked.

"He did," Stiles answered. "He's still struggling but he's holding on."

"Good to hear," Tom said. "That's a hell of lot better than the rest of them here. We found fifteen. Seems most died within days of the evacuation. Not all of them had dog tags. I'm not sure how we'll identify them."

"The ones without tags will be the Jewish ones. But the first POW died March 9th," Pierson told him. "Several others very soon after."

"He told you?" Tom seemed surprised. "Good, means he's more lucid."

"Yeah," Stiles replied. "Sleeps a lot. Very hungry."

"I'll bet." Tom returned to the subject of the dead. "If there are earlier deaths, where are the bodies?"

"Buried," Pierson told him.

"Did he say where?" Tom asked.

"No," Pierson answered. "He lost it before he could tell me. Fell back asleep. Said Acevedo kept a record. I think maybe this Acevedo survived to be evacuated."

"Good for him, but that record might be useful."

"Let your lieutenant know to look for the graves," Pierson requested. "I want to see if we can track the evacuation. Maybe find this Acevedo and the rest of them."

"Then you'll want to talk to Lt. Martin yourself," Tom said. "He took a few men and went that way the other day." He pointed toward a tent to the back of the platoon's camp.

"I'd like to take more photos in the camp," Stiles said, pointing toward the entrance to Berga.

Pierson nodded. "Okay, don't be long." He looked at the sky. The sun would be going down in an hour or two. "Looks like we'll be bunking with you all tonight," he told Tom, then started towards the lieutenant's tent.

Lt. Martin was looking over maps when Pierson entered. He looked up, then offered a hand. "So you're the ones that found the one survivor in this camp."

Pierson shook the hand that was offered. "In this camp. There are more out there. Three hundred fifty POWs were brought here. I'd like to try and find the rest of them."

"There's fighting not thirty miles from this position," Martin told him, pointing to a line on the map. "I wouldn't go until morning if I were you. And I warn you, it's not a walk in the park. We did follow the trail aways after you took your boy back to Bad Orb."

"What did you find?" Pierson asked.

"Bodies. Lots of them. Civilians mostly. An occasional POW."

Pierson blew out a breath. "Fucking Nazis!"

"Agreed." Martin replied. "It's late, I'll have my sergeant find you a bunk."

"There's two of us."

"Two bunks, then," Martin corrected. "You two had dinner? I know the area smells but you gotta eat."

"We haven't. Thank you." Pierson turned to go but turned back. "The one we found said there are POWs buried in this camp. They'll need to be found."

Martin blew out a breath. "They didn't make this easy, did they?"

Pierson shook his head. "Nothing about this was easy."

Zussman survived another night, much to Daniels and Aiello's relief. He just didn't look any better than he did two days ago. Daniels decided to ask the doctor about it.

"There still could be factors we don't know," Dr. Harris told him. "But from what I heard from Ohrdruff, this isn't unusual. Survivors are starved. They're exhausted. They had to keep going before on very little calories. Now they don't have to work, so their bodies are just using the calories they're given to recover. And many of them are still just resting."

Daniels nodded. "They deserve that. Zuss deserves that."

"We don't want to push his body to do anything it's not ready to do at this point," Dr. Harris told him. "Given all those bruises on his abdomen, he could bleed internally. We're keeping a close eye on him. And he has you and the others. I know he appreciates having his friends beside him."

Daniels thanked him and returned to Zussman's side. Zuss was still sleeping, laying on his left side. That was often the case now. But he deserved the rest. So Daniels let him sleep.

Aiello was up early. He'd had his breakfast an hour ago. Davis was coming today and he was going to have to be the one to tell him Pierson wasn't there.

He watched the CO's jeep pull in through the front gate. One of the guards there pointed in Aiello's direction. Show time, he thought.

The jeep stopped a couple yards away, and Colonel Davis came straight at him. Aiello stood to attention and saluted.

"Private Aiello," Davis said. "Where is Sergeant Pierson?"

Aiello kept his stance. "Sergeant Pierson and Private Stiles are in Berga, sir."

"He knew I was coming," Davis said. It wasn't really a question.

"Yes, sir," Aiello said. "He was hoping to find more of the surviving POWs."

"More," Davis repeated. "You found Private Zussman."

"Yes, sir," Aiello affirmed, "only just in time. He was about to be shot."

"And Corporal Daniels is where?"

"In the infirmary with Private Zussman," Aiello replied. "I can escort you there, sir."

"Let's go then." Davis ordered.

Aiello saluted again and then started toward the Infirmary. They passed liberated POWs and liberating soldiers as well, some in tents, some sitting around a fire with their breakfast. Aiello led the colonel up the stairs and held the door open for him. When they neared Zuss's bed, Daniels stood to attention and saluted as well.

Davis stared him down for a minute then turned his gaze toward Zussman. Zuss was turned on his side so his face wasn't as visible as they could probably have used. But his outline under the blankets was ever so thin. Davis's stern visage softened.

"You found him."

"Yes, sir," Daniels said. "A guard was shooting prisoners. I got there just in time to pop that German before he shot the last. It was Zussman."

"How is he?"

"Starved, dehydrated, exhausted, beaten," Daniels replied, summarizing. "He sleeps a lot."

"Is he eating anything?"

"Yes sir," Daniels said. "Small meals, soft foods. He should be getting some breakfast here soon."

In fact, a nurse was on her way over with a bowl that probably held oatmeal. "Excuse me, Colonel," she said. "He's usually awake by now." Her eyes narrowed. She handed the bowl to Aiello and moved closer to Zussman. She shook his shoulder lightly but he didn't stir. The nurse checked his neck for a pulse then pulled the blankets away to Zuss's waist. The bruises were clearly visible. They kind of wrapped around his sides to his back.

Daniels eyes went wide. He slowly pushed Zuss's shoulder until he was more on his back. Then Aiello saw what shook Daniels. His left side was a deep purple color, almost solid.

"Get the doctor!" the nurse told Daniels. Daniels took off at a run.

"What is that?" Aiello asked her.

"Blood," she replied. "He's bleeding internally."

The doctor and Daniels came running back. Two other doctors followed him dragging a gurney. Aiello and the colonel stepped back out of the way. Aiello held the bowl with one hand and crossed himself with the other. Zussman couldn't die now. Not after they saved him. It wouldn't be right.

The doctors transferred Zussman to the gurney and started wheeling him away. The nurse pulled the IV stand along with them and one of the doctors grabbed the oxygen tank.

Daniels was just standing there, one hand over his mouth.

Davis put a hand on his shoulder. "Have a seat, son. You can't help him now. It's up to the doctors."

Daniels sat in the chair. Aiello sat down on the edge of the bed. "How'd this happen?"

"You said he was beaten," Davis said. "It can happen after that. Even days after. Happened to my baby brother after a car accident. He didn't start bleeding for two days."

"Did he make it, sir?"

"I'm very sorry to say he did not," Davis said. He put his hand back on Daniels' shoulder. "He wasn't in a hospital when it happened. We couldn't get him to one fast enough. Zussman is in a hospital. He's got a good chance here."

"But he's so weak and thin," Daniels said.

"If we'd waited," Aiello said, knowing it wasn't his place, "for authorization, we might not have found him in time. Even if he wasn't shot he would have died right there."

Davis sat down on the other side of the bed. "I get it. I'll still have to reprimand Pierson. Can't just let disobedience go. People'll think I play favorites. But that's all it'll be. Private Aiello, do you think you think you find a chaplain out there."

"Yes, sir." Aiello left the bowl on the bed and ran out of the infirmary. He went to the first group of soldiers he could find and asked for a chaplain. He was pointed off to the right so he ran that way and asked again. He tried to think. Should it be a Jewish chaplain or would it matter? Really, it was the same God, right? Just Old Testament and not the New.

Finally, he spotted one. "We need a chaplain in the infirmary."

The chaplain put a hand on his shoulder. "Catch your breath, then lead the way."

Aiello stood a minute then nodded and led him back toward the Infirmary. "My friend," he told him as they walked briskly, "he's Jewish. We found him in a concentration camp. He barely survived that. Now he's bleeding internally. I think they took him back for surgery."

"A concentration camp?" the chaplain asked. "That poor man."

They went inside and Davis and Daniels stood again. "We may as well sit," the chaplain said. "I'm Chaplain Isaiah."

Daniels shook his hand then sat again.

"What's the man's name?" Isaiah asked, sitting on the bed with Davis and Aiello.

"Zussman," Davis replied. "Private Robert Zussman."

"What was one of our men doing in a concentration camp?" Isaiah asked. "But never mind that for now." He held out his hands. Daniels took one. Aiello took the other and they both held out a hand to the colonel, who took them. "I think we'll start with Psalm 23. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.'"

Isaiah bowed his head and continued, "Lord, You are Robert's shepherd, and You've brought him through war and imprisonment with many hardships. He is Your child, one of Your chosen. He faces another trial now and we ask You to lead him through it and back to the arms of his friends and his family back home. Help him to know that there is still a God, even here, even in the struggles when so many lose their faith. Help him to survive this surgery and to regain all his lost strength in the days and weeks ahead. Help him to go on to a beautiful life where goodness and mercy follow him all the days of that life. Allow him to dwell in Your house for ever, Lord. In Your holy name, we pray. Amen."

"Amen," Daniels said.

Aiello crossed himself again. "Amen." Then he put his head in his head. He fought back tears but he just couldn't stop them. He saw the dead and near dead in Ohdruff the bodies in Berga. Zussman. He replayed the things he'd said to Howard and felt disgusted in himself.

"Thank you," Davis said.

Isaiah moved closer to Aiello and put an arm around him. "Have faith, son. God is still in the business of miracles."

"I'm sorry!" It just burst out.

"What for?" Daniels asked.

He stood up. "For all the stupid things I said about Jews, the racist things I said to Howard. What we saw in Ohrdruff and Berga, that's what it leads to. I grew up with that same hatred in me. That hatred that killed all those people."

"Ah," Isaiah said. "But there is one difference."

Aiello turned to him, hoping it was true that he wasn't a monster like them. "What?"

Isaiah stood and came around the bed to stand in front of him. "You see it," he said. "You see that in yourself and you now see it's wrong. So you don't have to carry that anymore. You can just let it go."

Aiello was skeptical. "Just like that?"

Isaiah nodded. He smiled. "Yeah, just like that. That hatred is a burden and Jesus wants you to put all your burdens on Him. You don't have to carry them anymore. Let the hatred go and hold on to the love you have for your friend. That's the good stuff. You fill your heart with love and there's no place left for hatred. It may take some practice but I think you're already on your way."

Daniels walked over and put hand on Aiello's shoulder. "I watched you feed him that oatmeal you know. There wasn't a drop of hatred in that."

Aiello managed a smile and thought that maybe, just maybe, his shoulders were feeling lighter all the sudden.

Davis was still sitting. "Why don't you help me get to know Private Zussman? Tell me about him."

The nurse returned to them so they didn't get to tell much.

"How is he?" Daniels asked, standing again.

"We found the bleeder," she said. "But he's lost a lot of blood. We don't have enough to give him."

Davis stood. "We have a whole camp of healthy soldiers out there. What type?"

"O negative would be best."

"I'm on it," Davis said. He looked to Isaiah. "You with me?"

"Yes, sir, Colonel," Isaiah said. "We'll find some donors."

Aiello raised his hand. "Got one right here."

The nurse smiled. "Come with me."

Aiello followed her as the colonel and chaplain went outside. Aiello offered Daniels a look back. He looked a little lost there on his own.

Pierson and Stiles followed the trail with three of Martin's men at their side. They could smell the bodies before they could see them. They littered the road about half a mile from where they'd found Zussman. Mostly civilians by their clothes. They had been gunned down. Pierson was not going to be deterred by that. They stepped carefully around the bodies and moved on. The tracks went past little houses. As they passed, curtains were hastily pulled over windows. Those people probably saw something. But Pierson couldn't speak to them. Zussman was the one who knew German.

After an hour of walking and finding a body here and a body there, they came to a fork in the road. There were tracks going forward, and going both ways to the side. There was no way to know which was the trail of the POWs of Berga. They couldn't split up. There were only five of them, and the front wasn't too far away. And who knows, maybe one of those houses had a gun. One soldier walking alone might not make it back.

Pierson wasn't happy about it.

"How many marches like that are there?" Stiles asked.

"Too many," one of the other soldiers, Berounsky, said.

"We should head back." That was Bordello.

Pierson didn't like it but he was right. "Yeah, we're not finding anyone alive today."

Ninety minutes later they were back in the little camp outside Berga. Lt. Martin met them. "I take it you didn't find them."

"Followed as far as we could," Stiles said. "Tracks went every which way."

"I'm sorry," Lt. Martin said. "You gonna stay for lunch?"

Pierson shook his head. "Thanks for the hospitality, but we gotta get back to Bad Orb."

"See how Zussman's doing," Stiles said.

"And face my reckoning with Colonel Davis." Pierson added.

Martin smirked. "Good luck with that. Jeep's all ready for you."