Last Time: Erwin is shot and killed.
"Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy." - Anne Frank
Now: Easy Arrives in Buchloe, Germany.
Chapter 35 - Shoah
Sturzelberg, Germany
Rebecca finished the letter to Gisela by signing her full name. It certainly wasn't an easy letter to start. Finding the balance between informing Gisela of her husband's death and dragging on the agony proved to be worse. She wanted to let the poor widow know how exactly her husband died, but Rebecca had a hard time determining what was too graphic and upsetting for Gisela to read. Rebecca also wanted to express her sincere condolences and tell her how wonderful her husband was, even to his dying day. But even that opened up a whole other can of worms. God forbid she made the woman feel guilty she wasn't there when he passed. And then there was the reminder Gisela wouldn't be able to bury her husband, plus she was expecting or already had her baby. Rebecca slouched in her desk chair, rubbing her strained eyes, and wondered how on earth telegram typists wrote those awful condolence letters to families every single day.
In the end, as always, Rebecca wrote with her heart on her sleeve.
Dear Gisela,
On behalf of myself and 101st Airborne, I offer my sincerest sympathy in the passing of your husband, Erwin Schäfer. Although I understand words from a faceless stranger offer no easement of your pain, I hope you can take comfort in knowing your husband in kind comforted me when I worked with him as a POW. He truly was an incredible man who held so much love for you and your child-to-be. Despite his situation, Erwin remained kind and cared for his fellow P.O.W.s until his final moments. I was even fortunate enough to learn about you and his life before the war. He reinvigorated my own humanity and taught me once again, though we were technically enemies, what still remains are our souls, which connect all beings together. I deeply appreciated your husband's friendship, though short, and I will remember our conversations forever. Should you wish to contact me, please refer to the return address on the envelope. I hope to hear from you. God bless you and your newborn and may he grant you serenity in your time of sorrow.
Sincerely,
Rebecca Clark, combat nurse, 101st Airborne
As Rebecca folded her letter, placed it in the envelope, and began walking out of her room, Nixon caught her attention in her periphery. Excited as she was to see Nix's return from his third jump to Operation Varisty, something seemed off.
He left his room throwing a bottle of his beloved Vat 69 in the garbage bin with a loud clang. Trailing behind him was Dick who briefly made eye contact with Rebecca before following Nix into the opulent lounge adjacent to his quarters. Rebecca followed suit but stopped herself at the doorway when Dick looked back at her and motioned her to stay put.
"Got a visit with Col. Sink this morning," Dick began, looking dejectedly at the floor.
Rebecca heard Nixon only grunt in response. Given that Dick didn't want her there and the fact he was visited by Sink, she guessed what he had to say wasn't good news.
"And how is the good Colonel?" Nix finally spoke up.
Scratching his head and glancing at Rebecca again, she heard Dick emphasize, "Concerned." Walking over and gripping the back of the chair, he spoke "Still drinking nothing but Vat 69, huh?"
"Only the finest for Mrs. Nixon's baby boy," gloated Nix.
"That a problem up at regiment?" Dick hinted.
It was and Nixon's drinking was out of control. Though, far be it for Rebecca to call him out on it. Whenever the men had access to alcohol of any kind, they almost always went on a bender. Even though it triggered past memories of her father's own drinking problem, she knew it couldn't possibly grow to anything near the mess he had gotten himself into. Rebecca had seen Nix with a glass of his beloved Vat 69 quite often, but she never would've thought he was drinking enough to invoke concern from Col. Sink.
"What, this? Is that what he said?" Nix asked, "No, I just don't like it up there," he objected.
"Good, so you'll be happy to hear that Sink is transferring you back down to Battalion S-3."
"What do you think I should write to these parents, Dick?"
Leaning up against the hallway wall, Rebecca sighed. Something happened on Nix's jump.
"Hear what I said, Nix? You've been demoted."
"Yeah, demoted, got you," he pondered for a moment, "Cause I don't know how to tell them their kids never made it out of the goddamn plane."
Jesus. Thought Rebecca, as she clenched a fist over her mouth.
"You tell 'em what you always tell 'em. Their sons died as heroes."
"You really still believe that?" Nix huffed.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Don't you?"
The sound of the clock sitting above the fireplace was the only response Rebecca heard to Dick's question.
XXX
A couple of days passed between Nixon's demotion and in between that time the news of President Roosevelt's death was the talk of the town. Well, it was before the next big news broke entailing the surrender of 300,000 German soldiers. It was a lot of news in the span of only days, but what really got everyone up in a tizzy was the announcement Easy easy would only have one hour to move out.
The town they only began to grow comfortable became a frenzy of American soldiers packing up to continue their encroachment on Germany. Rebecca, luckily, was able to delegate most of the work to Roe and the other medics. It was mostly just inventory and loading up records and supplies; nothing a group of more than competent medics couldn't handle.
Although she rarely delegated the entirety of the work to her men, she deemed this time worthy of shirking her normal duties when she heard Nix's shouts of frustration. He hurled his helmet in the jeep with as much anger as Rebecca had ever seen him in.
Jogging over to the jeep to sit with Dick and Nix like she normally did when they moved out, she dared to finally ask.
"Everything okay, Lew?" Rebecca gently asked Nix as she sat in the jeep.
All he did in response was shove a letter dejectedly toward her. Taking it, Rebecca was just going to quickly skim over it until she saw it was from Nix's wife, Cathy. Her eyes widened as she read his wife's proclamation of divorce. As if to smear salt in the wound, Cathy also boasted she would be taking everything, from the kid to Nix's beloved dog. Of all times for Cathy to announce her divorce, it had to be at the same time Nix lost all but three men on his third jump, was saddled with writing condolence letters to all the dead paratroopers' families, and was informed by Dick he was being demoted.
"Shit, Lewis, I'm so sorry," was all Rebecca could offer in an attempt to comfort the man. It was an impossible amount of horrible news to be hit with.
"I'm getting my fucking dog back," she heard Nix fume.
Not knowing what else to say, "Can you hire an attorney?" She winced at the suggestion, knowing Nix would only provide a sarcastic remark.
"With what fucking money and time?" He snipped.
Rebecca just began singing "Blood on the risers" along with all the other men, attempting to cut the tension. She smiled when Nix dejectedly began grinding out the words along with her.
XXX
Rebecca knew the Germans were her enemy. She'd seen and been a part of many atrocities dealt with by the hands of the Nazis. Ransacking and breaking into civilians' homes, however, was something she didn't want a part of. So, she waited outside with the Jeeps while the Germans depressingly walked out of their own doors with whatever they could snatch together in five minutes.
She glanced at the expressions of the civilians as they walked by her. Upon making eye contact with a young woman, she was met only with a look of utter disdain. Not that she could blame them, after all.
XXX
Buchloe, Germany
April 28, 1945,
D-Day plus 326
Further up the stopped convoy Rebecca, Nix, and Dick jumped out of their jeep, getting a feel for the new village. It isn't long before Dick's battalion officers found him. Speirs smiled at Rebecca and Lipton dipped his helmeted head, mocking a tip of the hat.
"Let's send out some patrols. Dog, take the village, Easy and Fox, the woods."
Speirs and the other two COs nodded and headed away with their junior officers.
"Not worried about an ambush, are you," Nixon questioned.
"No, just in case we have to stay the night." He lied.
"Becca, maybe you should establish a new examination room?" Dick half asked, half ordered.
Rebecca wasn't exactly paying attention when Dick spoke to her. All she could do was stare at the almost picture-perfect village. It was almost like something out of a fairytale and was relatively unscathed by allied assault. Something struck her as suspicious. A burning smell wafted through the breeze and into Rebecca's nostrils. Not a pleasant smell in the slightest. It was almost familiar, but it gave off the impression that something was burning.
"Becca?-"
"Do you guys smell that?"
They looked at her confusedly, both breathing in, trying to smell what Rebecca did.
"Yeah, but there's a bakery right there. Maybe the ole bäcker burnt some bread.
No, that's not it. She thought to herself. "Maybe." She conceded against her better judgment. Rebecca smiled, "I'm going to find a druggist to establish an exam room."
She walked off, not understanding the pit in the bottom of her stomach or the sense of dread she felt in her chest. The village was gorgeous and picturesque, and they were safe, what more could any of them ask for?
XXX
"Captain!" bellowed someone from outside. "Captain!"
Rebecca was startled from her charting when she saw Perconte and Dick almost running into the examination room. She felt her stomach drop just from the mere expression plastered on both their faces. Something's wrong.
"What, what?" fretted Rebecca as she stood up from her seat.
"Becca, one of the patrols found something on the outskirts of town, in the woods."
"Yes, ma'am, we don't know what exactly it is, but we need medics, for sure." Perconte panted.
Dick drove the jeep that emerged from the trees into a clearing with Nix riding shotgun. A few trucks followed behind with men from 1st and 3rd platoons where Rebecca tagged along. Unsure of the situation at hand, it was tense at best and weapons were drawn.
In the middle of the clearing in the woods, surrounded by fifteen-foot logs and barbed wire stood a compound of some sort. When the trucks stopped, Rebecca immediately jumped out to get a better look.
Every hundred feet of fence, a guard tower stood and A-Frame huts in neat little rows were precisely lined up. Some of the huts were partially burned with smoke still smoldering out of them. Leaning up against the fence was what seemed to be prisoners based on their garb and behind them were mounds of debris and some sort of white rubble.
Sprinting to find Dick and Nix amongst the growing panic, Rebecca found them grim-faced and almost in a state of shock. Christensen, Garcia, Luz, and O'Keefe waited in an eery silence with handkerchiefs around their noses and mouth. Behind them were more prisoners dressed in burlap uniforms. Some were striped blue, others, solid blue.
Rebecca could only describe the captives as walking corpses, all severely emaciated. Deep-sunken cheeks and eye sockets from starvation occupied their faces as well as the look of utter humiliation. Upon spotting Rebecca, a woman no less, the men cringed like how a beaten dog looks at its abuser.
"What the hell is this?" Rebecca mumbled to Nix as she watched Dick order for the gates to be opened.
"I don't know." He gagged in reply.
The smell Rebecca could sniff all the way from the village filled and burned her nostrils with every inhale. The stench, she determined must be from the burning A-Frames. She grabbed her own hanky and tied it around her mouth and nose.
"Becca?" cried out Dick with Christensen by his side.
As chilling as it was to see the flock of POWs encircling the Americans, Dick called out for Rebecca; for he knew these people were going to need medical attention. She came sprinting over to Dick's side with Nixon following. Just beyond the chainlink fence were about ten dead prisoners laying in a pool of their own blood which looked like it didn't happen all that long ago.
"Any of these men speak German?" He asked Christensen.
"No, sir," Christensen replied. "Liebgott!" called out Winters.
Rebecca and Nixon continued their pace through the compound, both too shocked to say anything except exchange looks of utter disturbance. "Oh my God…" Nixon finally spoke. More prisoners emerged from their huts, ones far too skeletal and weak to wait out in the cold. They appeared even more emaciated than the ones who were at the front gate. A chill racked up Rebecca's spine at the sight of them; so starved and ghastly they almost appeared translucent.
They staggered towards their liberators, the strong holding up the weak. Rebecca shivered at the sight of some of them smiling. They were probably just thankful for their freedom, but on their gaunt faces, it resembled a terrifying, almost sinister grin. Some were crying either tears or joy, desperation, or a mix of the two, others were shouting.
What Rebecca saw next made the bile from her stomach rise in her throat. Behind the rows of prisoners were the piles of white rubble she saw in the distance. Except these weren't mounds of debris from blown-apart rubble. They were bodies, naked and stacked on each other without care. No sanctity for life, no humility.
"Becca!" Nix yelled, "are you okay?"
She hunched over the ground and vomited emesis reminiscent of her last meal. Coughing and spitting out the bitter bile from her mouth, she pulled out her canteen and took a swig to wash the taste out of her mouth.
Liebgott, Speirs, and Winters joined Rebecca and Nixon along with a POW. Liebgott was attempting to translate to figure out exactly what they were dealing with. The prisoner's name was Herzfeld, Liebgott informed them.
"He says the guards left this morning, sir… but they… they burned some of the huts. First… with the… with the prisoners still in them, sir. Alive." Translated Liebgott.
"Jesus Christ."
"But then some of the prisoners tried to stop them. Some of them were killed but the guards didn't have enough ammo for all the prisoners," said Liebgott. "They shot as many as they could before they just left. They locked the gate behind them and headed south."
Nixon's face hardened, "Someone in town must have told them we were here."
"Ask him what kind of camp this is. What… why are they here?"
Liebgott turned to the POW, asking the same question Winters asked him. "It's a work camp for unerwuenscht? I'm not sure what the word means, sir… "unwanted", maybe?"
"You mean criminals?" Nixon asked, attempting to justify the carnage.
"I don't think so, sir." He turned to Herzfeld and asked in German. At the question, the man got very agitated, almost insulted.
"No, no. Doctors, musicians, writers, tailors, clerks, farmers, intellectuals…"
"Juden. Juden!"
They're… Jews and Poles and gypsies."
A wave of dread washed over Rebecca. These were innocent people. People were rounded up like livestock and thrown out like garbage. Human beings who were burned alive methodically and meticulously were exterminated like rats.
Herzfeld spoke one last time for Liebgott to translate. "The… the women's camp is at the next railroad stop."
The wind was sucked out of Rebecca's lungs. Women's camp? And they all paused and looked at her.
XXX
TW: rape, SA, violence against women.
Rebecca didn't think it could get any worse until she arrived at the women's camp. The A-Frame huts were destroyed similarly to the ones at the men's encampment, but unlike the men's, the huts were all burnt right down to the framework of the shacks. The Nazis clearly started with the women first. Piles of dead and charred female corpses littered the grounds like in the other camp save for one major difference.
As she walked with Roe, assessing the bodies, the tears began welling up in her eyes. Not only were the bodies grossly shriveled, but there were obvious signs most of these women had been viciously raped. Blood, bruises, and gouges littered the wrists, necks, and between thighs on many of the corpses and some bodies were clearly pregnant.
"I- I can't," Rebecca turned away, squatting to the ground. "I can't look anymore."
"We have to check for survivors." urged Roe.
Rebecca glanced around more at the stacks of bodies and at the charred remains of the huts. "They would've been lined up outside like at the other camp, Roe. The guards finished the job."
Despite her discomfort and anguish, Rebecca, Roe, and a few other medical personnel walked through the entirety of the camp, attempting to find some sign of life. She was just about to turn around when she saw one hut that wasn't completely decimated.
"I think I found something!" She called out to Roe.
"Amerikanisch?" called a worn-out voice, startling Rebecca. "Amerikanisch?"
Rebecca whipped around to face the voice calling to her. "Yes… er- ja, ja."
Without even taking a breath, the young woman leaped over to Rebecca and practically jumped into her arms. She began sobbing as Rebecca hugged her back. No, not just sobbing, wailing. All Rebecca could think to do was soothe the woman in English.
"It's okay, it's gonna be alright. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."
The woman took Rebecca's hand and kissed it with her dry and cracked lips, leading her into the semi-demolished hut. Inside were about ten other women, all looked chillingly thin and gaunt. However, it wasn't the sight of more skeletons that nearly made Rebecca vomit again. It was the smell of rotting flesh and the iron smell of blood. Of course, these women weren't given proper supplies for menses; they weren't even considered human to the guards.
"Das blut?" Rebecca asked in broken German.
"aus unseren menstruationszyklus."
Rebecca brought out her handkerchief and put it up to her face. "We'll do all we can for everyone." She said, not knowing if the poor ladies could even understand what was being said. "I promise."
XXX
It took no time at all before Rebecca, Roe, and others were delivering the prisoners from the women's camp to somewhere they could all be examined. Somewhere private and most importantly, safe. Just as she predicted, all the surviving women had been raped. Thankfully, none of them seemed pregnant, but it did appear some of the women had venereal diseases. Disgusting pigs.
Unfortunately, the only ones who spoke German were men and Rebecca didn't know if seeing strange men would send them all into a panic. With no other option, Webster thankfully volunteered his services with grace and empathy. Rebecca stood in the room while Webster jotted down what the young woman who found her said.
"Her name is Rahel and she's twenty years old. She said the Germans all had their way with them at least once. Some took turns. The ones who were impregnated either got shot or just starved to death. Rahel said none in this group are pregnant because they've all recently menstruated," Webster paused, putting down his notepad. "Jesus Christ." He mumbled.
"We're going to give them all some penicillin, just in case."
"They'll be okay?" asked Web.
Rebecca scoffed. "No, none of them will ever be okay. They'll carry that experience with them for the rest of their lives. Some of them probably wish they were dead." She remarked. "Thanks for your help, Web. I appreciate it. I'll have you stick around for a little bit until we can find a woman from town to help translate."
"You got it, Captain."
- End Chapter -
A/N: OMG! It's been a while and I'm so sorry. Nursing school is actively trying to kill me and I've been so miserable lately. I'm on my last week of winter break and finally decided to pick this story up again. My intentions have always been to finish it, but life just happens. Anywho, if you enjoyed it, please, drop me a review. This one was tough to write so some feedback is always appreciated. Till the next one! :3
