Watch the Trains Go By: The Dinner
"The way I look at it is we're not losing a camp Kommandant; we're gaining an underground agent."
~~Peter Newkirk, Gowns by Yvette~~
Gertrude woke up with a headache, sore throat and unable to breath properly. Stupid pollen, she thought to herself, stupid sinuses. Dragging herself to her vanity, she looked into the mirror and realized she did not look like herself. She was pale, almost ghostly white. Her eyes were puffy and watery. She felt as if someone had hit her in the face with an axe. The whole room seemed to spin under her feet. This must have been what Alice felt like when she fell down the rabbit hole. Sitting down on the stool with a thump, she considered her options. Either she could stay home and nurse her sinus infection or she can go with her brother to Stalag XIII. With Papa Bear's plot in motion there was no way she could stay home. She decided she needed to form a spy union and campaign for sick days. After all, what kind of person accepts a job that does not give health benefits?
Getting up, she stumbled into the kitchen. She fed the cast iron stove its morning ration of coal and set the сafetière à piston on the stove to heat up. She also put a pan of water on the stove and stood over it as the steam helped her to breathe easier. Pouring herself a half cup of Getreidekaffee, she placed a teaspoon of her precious turnip sugar into the hot liquid and slowly stirred. She nibbled on a piece of toast she had made from the stale bread after carefully cutting the mold from it. She gave an internal sigh and wished she had a bit of butter or marmalade to go with it.
Neither the steam nor her breakfast did much to improve her headache. Unable to find any aspirin in the house, she decided to grit her teeth and bear it. She was sure they would have something at the camp, if only she lived long enough to get there.
Albert and his driver arrived at the appointed time. After helping her into the car, they began to make their way to the camp. She did not listen to his ongoing prattle about what a good husband Klink would make. In fact, she if the Gestapo was to interrogate her by shoving wood splinters under her nails, she would still be unable to relay to them what he had said to her during the trip. The only thing she heard of the conversation was his pauses, at which time she would reply yes or u-huh. She was too worried about the potholes to care about anything else. Every time the driver hit one, it felt like her brain was going to fall out of her head and roll down the road.
She was never as happy as when they arrived at the Stalag. She tried to paste a smile on her face as the car pulled up in front of the Kommandantur. Klink, with his usual inappropriately effervescent greetings, was waiting for them to exit out of the vehicle.
"Welcome General Burkhalter, this is a great pleasure to see you," Klink said.
"You remember my sister, of course," Albert replied.
"Of course, a great pleasure."" came the dejected reply,
"Good day," Gertrude said with a forced cheerfulness. The problems with her watering eyes made it look as if she had winked at him. For a moment, she thought Klink was going to swallow his monocle. If she had not felt so poorly she would have laughed right there and then. Did he really think she was so forward with a man she did not even call by his first name?
Gertrude told Albert and Klink she was going to the VIP quarters to unpack and freshen up while they conducted camp business. As soon as they were out of hearing range, she asked Schultz for some aspirin and camphor. The good-natured Oberfeldwebel said he would go to the infirmary and see what supplies were available. Thanking him, she set off for her quarters with the driver carrying her bags following behind.
Schultz quickly returned with the requested items. He explained to Gertrude that the only camphor available was for sore muscles. She told him it would be sufficient for her needs and dismissed him. She took the aspirin and placed some of the liquid under her nose. She felt her upper lip heat up and then it started to burn. Despite the discomfiture, the medicine did open her sinuses and helped her to breath. Pulling closed the curtains in her room; she laid down on the bed hoping it was enough for her to feel better.
Her headache had lessened to a dull ache when she heard a light tapping at the outer door. Getting up she walked into the living room and opened the door. She was surprised to see Leutnant Bergman standing in the doorway with a covered tray.
"The Kommandant wanted to make sure you had a nice lunch. He said to tell you the General will be eating with him in the Officer's mess but will join you for dinner tonight."
"Thank you Leutnant. You can put the tray on the table," she said, indicating the dining room table near the kitchen door. She glanced around the courtyard to make sure no one was paying any undue attention to what was going on in the VIP quarters. Satisfied all was well, she closed the door and turned to address the young man.
"Are you sure no one will question why you are here? It must seem strange for an officer to be delivering meals," Gertrude asked.
"No, I think the Kommandant was so relieved when I suggested he and the General eat with the other officers, for morale purposes of course, and I bring you your lunch, that he didn't question it."
Gertrude smiled at him. How young he looked. Of course, she knew Bergman was a husband and a father but somehow she could not believe he was not still in short pants. He looked too young to shave, let alone be in the Luftwaffe.
"That's' good Paul," she said crossing the room to look at what he had brought her. Lifting the lid she saw the tray contained a tureen of Spargelsuppe mit Weisswein, a loaf of Kartoffelbrot, and some real coffee. "The Kommandant knows how to live."
"I think he is trying to keep you here and not underfoot. The General is checking the supply requisitions and asking questions I don't think the Kommandant wants to answer."
Getting a couple of cups, bowls and some silverware from the cabinet, Gertrude set the table for lunch and then indicated Bergman should join her. "What do you know of Papa Bear Paul?"
Bergman frowned in thought and then replied, "I've heard the name of course. Every time that Gestapo Major comes into camp, the name invariably comes up. For some reason he thinks this saboteur is Colonel Hogan. Impossible of course, Hogan is a prisoner."
"So you don't think Colonel Hogan could possibly be this underground agent?" Gertrude asked while slicing the bread.
"I do not see how. Oh, he is smart enough to be sure. Colonel Hogan is very crafty and if any prisoner could pull something like that off, it would be him. I just cannot see how he or anyone else could do it."
"Hmm," said Gertrude as she ladled the hot soup into the bowls. "Do you have any news for me?"
"I received word Herr Weidner was arrested by the Gestapo. Do not worry, he escaped and with our help was able to make it to Switzerland."
"I am relieved to hear that but saddened at the loss of such a valued agent," replied Gertrude. She waited for Bergman to finish grace before she continued. "It has been some time since Fräulein Weidner's arrest, have we been able to arrange her escape?"
"Unfortunately no, Herr Weidner's sister has been sent to Ravensbrück."
"So there is no hope for her, is there?" Gertrude said staring into her soup.
"Not unless she finds some way to escape. There is no way for us to get her out."
"Sometimes I feel so ineffectual," Gertrude said morosely.
"I do have some good news though. We have been able to get some the Fremdarbeiters at the tire factory in Magdeburg to begin a slowdown and the German workers in Cologne are in the streets protesting working conditions."
"That is good Paul, but we need to keep the pressure on the Government. This war has to end before there is no one and nothing left. Contact Sanskrit in Belgium and have him move the printing press. We need to keep printing those pamphlets giving updates on the war. That is the only way we are going to give the people the courage to continue to resist this despotic regime."
"Amen," Bergman replied softly. Setting his spoon down, he looked at Gertrude. "Are you finished eating? I need to take these dishes back to the kitchen."
"Yes, I am finished. Thank you for the wonderful meal," she said smiling at the young man. Not only had it been tasty and filling but also it had the added effect of helping her with her headache. She still did not feel like herself but she was much better than when she had awakened this morning.
The day passed quickly into the evening. She had been waiting expectantly hoping of some clue as to what Papa Bear expected of her. She was still as confused as when she first received the letter. Dinner arrived before her brother and the Kommandant. Schultz and a Langenscheidt set out a nice platter of Gebratener Rehrücken with Apfelmus and Blaukraut. With it came a large loaf of Kartoffelbrot and a nice Pflaumenkuhen for dessert. Coffee, real coffee, brandy and wine was to accompany the dinner. No wonder Albert was scrutinizing the requisitions; Klink was living like a king. Gertrude frowned with displeasure and thought about how many people were on the brink of starvation. I think it is time to teach my favorite Kommandant a lesson. Now what would scare him the most? She thought, smiling to herself.
Langenscheidt left to finish his KP duty, leaving Schultz there to act as waiter. Shortly after the Obergefreiter's departure, Klink and Albert arrived. Both were famished and wanted to eat immediately. While hungry herself, she found it difficult to eat such extravagance. Neither Klink nor Albert seemed to notice and both ate with exuberance, so little conversation occurred during the course of the meal. To Gertrude's chagrin, Albert became excessively chatty after the meal was finished.
"I was reviewing my schedule and found it had been a while since my last inspection. When I mentioned to Gertrude she needed to send you a note advising of my coming, she didn't say anything about accompanying me," Burkhalter said. "I was packing and Gertrude just announced she was coming along."
She felt like kicking Albert under the table for giving Klink the wrong idea but also pleased. Klink's punishment for his over indulgence was about to begin. She felt a wicked shiver flow through her. Smiling she said to Klink, "So here I am."
"I couldn't be happier," Klink said looking as if the opposite was the truth. "Frau Linkmeyer, you couldn´t be more welcome as the General himself. We will give you the very best we have here at Stalag XIII."
She did not miss the real meaning of his statement. She glanced at her brother but apparently, the back-handled compliment had gone unnoticed. Oh, this is going to be too easy, Gertrude thought as she mentally rubbed her hands together as the villains did in the cinema.
"Nice way to treat a lady," Albert said chuckling over his own joke.
Really, her brother could be quite insufferable. "Albert!" Gertrude said.
Ignoring the warning tone in her voice, Burkhalter continued, "On the way here my dear sister kept talking about you."
Liar!
"About me?" replied Klink, "What is there to say?"
"The conversation didn't last too long," she shot back. The look on Klink's face told her words had hit the target.
"I'm flattered," a deflated Klink replied.
"What is the magic you have, Klink?" Burkhalter asked Klink, still unaware of the subtext exchanged between Klink and Gertrude. "You seem to grow on people.'
"Albert, you make him sound like some kind of a fungus," Gertrude replied, trying to get him to stop his match making. While she wanted to give Klink a little payback, she did not want her brother to get the wrong idea. She could only put her plan in motion once they were alone together.
"Ha ha ha, a fungus." laughed Schultz from his position by Klink.
"Schultz…." Klink admonished through clenched teeth.
"Excuse me Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied softly.
"More brandy for the General and Frau Linkmeyer, please," Klink said in an obvious attempt at changing the subject.
"Yes Herr Kommandant," replied Schultz as he set about his ordered task.
"Just a little," she said as she watched the NCO pour more brandy into her glass. "Enough. Thank-you."
Schultz approached Burkhalter but he stopped him before he began to pour. ""Not for me; I´m a bit tired. Anyway, I can imagine you two young people would like to be alone." Klink jumped to his feet as the General stood up. To Gertrude, Klink appeared to be in a near panic at the thought of spending time alone with her and began to babble. Good thing she had a healthy sense of self-worth or his actions could really sting. "Young people? I don´t see any young people."
"Goodnight, Albert," Gertrude said to hurry her brother along.
Not willing to just say, good night and leave, Albert bowed to his sister and gave her a knowing smirk. "Goodnight, Gertrude and as the French say: bonne chance. Turning to Klink, Burkhalter added,"That means good luck."
The word 'fratricide' flitted through Gertrude's thoughts. ""He is terrible," Gertrude said in the beginning of an apology to Klink but he was not paying any attention to her so she fell silent. She watched as he ordered Schultz to stay with him. Apparently Albert had remembered they were not alone and ordered Schultz to help him with his boots. She got up from the table and sat down on the nearby sofa.
"Well, here we are," she said to Klink in an effort to get him to concentrate on her and not on his lost chaperone.
Klink slowly turned and faced her. He looked like Faust did as the Devil appeared in front of him to claim his soul. "Indeed we are. We are here. There is no question about that," he stammered.
"I remember that about you...a brilliant conversationalist," pricked by his attitude. Instead of replying, Klink just gave her a slack-jawed stare. Exasperated she attempted to engage him once again. "Now that we are alone, what is it you wanted to say to me Wilhelm?" He blinked a flustered look at her. Good at least I have his attention now.
"Thank-you," Klink said absently.
"Wilhelm? My first name?" he croaked.
Why not, she thought. You thought I was bold enough to wink at you in the compound, why not go all the way with this farce. "If it´s Gertrude, then it should be Wilhelm," she said, knowing he had no idea to what she was referring.
"Of course, you cannot call me Gertrude, because that is your name... if you know what I mean," he laughed nervously.
"What is it you want to say to me, Wilhelm?" she said in an attempt to hurry him along.
"Well now, let me see… I have offered you more brandy... We have straightened out the name business," he looked at her with a helpless look. She was beginning to understand Papa Bear's perverse sense of humor as she watched Klink squirm under her gaze.
"You remind me of my first husband, Otto. He was shy, too." It was nothing short of a bald-faced lie. Otto had been the very antithesis of shyness. She had birthed three children to prove it. In a move that shocked her, she reached up and pulled Klink down to sit next to her on the couch. "Sit down," she commanded.
"Well, you see, a soldier like I, is more at home in the rough company of men at the battlefield..." Klink began; looking like that is where he wished he was right now.
Gertrude almost burst out laughing. Surely, he must know, as Albert's secretary she knew his military history like the back of her hand. "Good," she said, slapping his leg and enjoying the horrified look on his face. "I'll handle this."
"I'm sure you will," Klink muttered under his breath. As if a certain realization had suddenly hit him, he looked at her and in an anxious tone said, "Handle what?"
"I realize that I am not the most beautiful, the most fascinating woman in the world..." she began.
"That's true," Klink replied.
She shot him a look that would have quelled any other man. Klink on the other hand seemed totally oblivious to his many social faux pas. "You don´t need to agree with me so quickly, Wilhelm!"
"No offense, Gnädige Frau," Klink quickly interjected.
That is better. "Gertrude," she reminded him.
"That's right, Gertrude," he quickly agreed.
"I know I am going to make a certain man very happy. Make a good wife to him, just what he needs," she replied, baiting the trap.
"Oh, there is no question about that in my mind! Congratulations!" Klink gushed. For a moment, she imagined he really was happy for her. It was a fleeting thought but it made her feel rather warm towards him.
"Thank-you."
"Who is the lucky man? Do I know him?"
"Oh you know him well." She smiled and tapped his cheek, "Don't be coy."
"Oh I am not trying to be coy, I..I.." Gertrude could see the realization dawn on Klink as to who was getting married. "Me?"
She smiled and sweetly said, "A brandy please, Wilhelm."
Instead of answering, Klink poured a glass and promptly drank it himself. He looked back at her and promptly pour another and drank that one too.
Gertrude should not be enjoying his discomfiture so much. She looked back on the events of the evening and could not believe the person sitting on the couch with Klink was she. A simple sinus infection could not bring about such a change in someone. Still, she had to admit she did have a good time tonight. She promised herself that before she left, she would let him know she had only been joking and was not expecting him to marry her.
Excusing herself, she left the couch and went into her room to get ready for bed. She imagined Klink would remain on the couch drinking until either he ran out of brandy or Schultz gathered him up and took him back to his quarters. For the first time in a long time, she drifted off to sleep without the nightmares that had plagued her since Otto's death.
Next: WTTGB: Lookout Point
A/n:
Most stoves at this time were wood or coal burning. There were a few petrol stoves and some electric ones but they were rare.
сafetière à piston is a type of French press coffee pot which could be used to make coffee or hot tea.
Getreidekaffee or grain coffee was a type of ersatz coffee.
Spargelsuppe mit Weisswein is Asparagus Soup with White Wine
Kartoffelbrot is potato bread
Johan Hendrik Weidner, a Dutch Seventh-day Adventist, lived in Paris and left during the beginning of the German occupation. He fled to the city of Lyon where he helped organize the "Dutch-Paris" underground network to aid anyone who needed to escape from the Nazis. In Paris, his sister Gabrielle Weidner and other volunteers helped coordinate escapes. As one of the significant contributors to French Resistance, Weidner's escape network would be responsible for the rescue of at least 1,000 persons, including 800 Jews and more than 100 downed Allied airmen. He was arrested by the Gestapo and was being shipped by train to a concentration camp but managed jump from the train and escape to Switzerland. He then traveled to England where he joined the Dutch forces there and fought with them to the end of the war.
Gabrielle Weidner arrested by the Gestapo, along with 140 members of the underground, and used unsuccessfully as bait for her brother. Interrogated and tortured in Fresnes prison in Paris; transported in a railway cattle car to the Ravensbrück concentration camp in Germany were she was beaten, starved and used as slave labor. She died of malnutrition two days after the Soviets liberated the camp.
Fremdarbeiter or "foreign workers" brought against their will to work in German Industries. In the period from 1942, until the end of the war, there were approximately 1.4 million laborers in the service of the Organisation Todt. Overall, 1% was Germans rejected from military service and 1.5% was concentration camp prisoners; the rest were prisoners of war and compulsory laborers from occupied countries. All treated as slaves. Many did not survive the work or the war.
Gebratener Rehrücken is a roasted saddle of venison, Apfelmus is applesauce, Blaukraut is red cabbage and Pflaumenkuhen is a plum tart.