Marie waited until they were sleeping before she made her attempt to leave. However, she wasn't going to leave herself vulnerable; she had managed to find a discarded handgun under the body of a German. In a way she couldn't believe what she'd done, stealing from a corpse. And yet, it was done.
She held the gun tightly in her right hand as she began to crawl away from the camp, her breathing unsteady.
Her heart stopped with the clunking of a gun behind her and a gruff voice half-whispering, "Where do you think you're goin'?"
Marie turned in horror to see Donnybearing over her, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"Please," she said, "I 'ave to go home."
He said nothing, until his eyes made their way to the gun in her hand.
"Where'd you get that?"
Marie's mouth began to tremble, "I found it…I took it from a German."
His eyes narrowed, and he hissed, "Get back in the fucking camp."
Marie, by this time shaking visibly, went back and lay down. She didn't understand why, but she started to cry, hiding her tears from the men around her.
Clotilde spent most of the next few days in bed. Symptoms, which she had attributed solely to the physical damage done to her, began to worry her; burning, pain…
Every day the door would open and a plate would be thrown on the floor; it was a sort of porridge and tasted vile, but she forced herself to eat it. There were no facilities to wash, and only a bucket to use as a toilet.
After a few days the boredom and loneliness started to play on her. She paced furiously around the room. She sat down and stood up. She looked at the bucket in the corner and thought seriously about smearing her own filth across the room.
Eventually three men came to her room, all wearing military uniform.
Clotilde was filled with fear. One of them barked something at her in German and Clotilde froze. Seeing that she wasn't taking notice, he seized her arm and threw her on the bed, trying to pry her legs apart. Immediately she began to scream and struggle, and the he signaled for the two soldiers to hold her down.
He performed a medical examination. Afterwards Clotilde sat awkwardly while the doctor made some notes in a small notebook.
The three men eventually left and Clotilde got back into bed, and cried. Once again she had been humiliated.
She was lying in bed when she heard the door opening again, and at once closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. She didn't need to look to see who it was.
He came and sat on the side of the bed, like a father putting his child to sleep. Clotilde kept her eyes closed, but opened them wide as he took hold of her throat.
"No need to pretend to sleep, dear."
"I wasn-" she began, but was cut off as he delivered a hard slap across her face.
"Enough lying, Clotilde." He paused for a second, not taking his eyes off her. "I heard you made a scene today, even after I sent a doctor for you."
"I-I…" Clotilde croaked, her voice straining under the force of his hand.
"Yes?"
"He didn't speak French, I didn't understand-"
Landa laughed derisively, "You thought they'd come to fuck you, didn't you?"
Clotilde flushed bright red, "You flatter yourself." He continued, before standing up.
"Why are you here?" She asked weakly.
"I thought you might be lonely," he said sarcastically, before adding, "No – I've thought of a use for you. How much English do you know?"
"Enough to get by."
"Good. As you know, Marie is currently in the company of the Basterds. I would like you to join her. In other words, infiltrate them. I will ensure you have means of reporting back to me."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Yes. You can do as I am asking you, otherwise I shall have you sent to Ravensbruck."
"Ravensbruck?"
"Yes. A concentration camp."