Chapter Twenty-Two: Gone
"You could be shot. What if someone else besides Duerr captures you? What if the SS recaptures you? Hmm? What then? That SS officer who first found you wanted to shoot you. And you hadn't even done anything. I don't like this. I don't like it one bit. Get someone else to go. You do enough here. You should get first out just because you've bust your arse night and day in this mission as it is. I hardly thick in it cricket to go an try to get lead poisoning too."
Peter sighed, stopped shoveling, and turned around to face Luke with an exasperated look. "Will you give it a rest? You've been at me for five days now. Five days. If I'm not gonna budge now, why do you even bother?"
Luke walked up to Peter. "Because the more I talk, the more I hope you'll reconsider this whole deal."
Peter rolled his eyes and went back to shoveling snow out of Jakowitz's pigpen. The first snow had come, and the pigs had lost their mud. Luke and Peter were secluded for now, behind the house and barn, so Luke had been blabbering away to try and convince Peter not to take on the very risky mission he was about to endeavor on. He had only told Luke and Stephen, trusting them. Louis had told Marcel, and outside of their close-knit group, only the officers knew. Stephen and Marcel were worried, but had only offered encouragement and small advisories every now and then. Sometimes, they would think of something, and just mention it. Peter and Louis were grateful for that.
Luke, however, was less than optimistic. He was worried sick, convinced this was a suicide mission. Peter was putting up with it, solely because he had already decided that he was going to do this.
"Luke," said Peter, cutting Luke off once again. "To be truthful, I thought you would be the most encouraging one."
Luke paused. "I do want you to do well. I hope it all works out. But…I just want you to come back."
Peter turned around quickly. "You think I'd clear out for good?"
Luke gave him an uneasy and guilty look. "Nothing against you, it's just…freedom…a chance to see home again without waiting for the cavalry to arrive…it sounds so good. And if you were to escape, why would you come back? I mean, I know why you are, and you're a brave, noble, and foolish chap for it. But, I don't even know if I would come back."
Peter just smiled. "Oh, don't worry. I considered it. Sometimes I still consider it. But I don't know where I'm goin' anyway. My plan is to just get as much information as I can before I starve."
"Then what," snapped Luke.
"'Opefully get captured by some Kraut who isn't trigger-'appy," replied Peter.
"Well," began Luke.
Peter sighed, knowing Luke was about to go off again.
And he did. "Just remember that there might be Polish people out there who aren't exactly on our side. Or they might just turn you in for their own sakes. And remember that we're pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. Food could get scarce fast. Not to mention—" he paused as it began to snow. "—the weather might get worse. Personally, I'd rather be recaptured without any information, than be frozen to death. And…"
Peter looked over his shoulder to Luke. The younger man had his back to him, and was hard at work as he rambled on. Peter gave a little smile. He gently laid down his shovel, and quickly looked around. There were no guards in sight. Quickly, he jumped the fence of the pigpen, and hurried around the barn to the side that faced the woods. There was about a forty yard field between the barn and the woods. Peter quickly looked around, and then in a dead sprint, ran to them. He ducked between the rungs of the fence, and crawled into the cover of the trees and forest brush. He squatted next to a tree and looked back. Nothing seemed amiss. No one—not even Luke—had seen him go. He was not missed yet. So, without another glance, he turned and ran for it.
***** ***** *****
A few minutes later, Luke stopped shoveling--but not talking. He paused in his rambling and gave a frustrated sigh.
"You know, this is so pointless," he said. "It will just continue to snow while we keep trying to dig it up. It's just going to continue you on like this. These bloody pigs can just roll around in the snow. We can have sausage icicles instead."
One of the pigs looked up and grunted. Luke sneered at him.
"I don't want to hear you complain," he said. "If you have to complain, talk to him." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to where Peter would have been working. He looked back, and froze seeing no one. Just Peter's shovel.
"Peter?"
There was, of course, no answer. Luke quickly looked around.
"Well, you wouldn't be a thief if you weren't sneaky." He paused. "Good luck," he whispered.
***** ***** *****
Lawrence lazily leaned against the wall of one of the barracks beside the compound. The work details would be returning soon, and the rec period would begin. Officers were never sent outside with the work details. Since they were not supposed to work, Duerr never sent them anywhere. They were then subjected to the extreme boredom that the camp held. During the day, there were about 200 men left in the camp, counting both nationalities. Sometimes they wondered if they would have rather been picked for work than to just sit around all day, waiting for the next one.
Suddenly, a work detail came into view on the road. Lawrence straightened up in confusion as he easily noticed the pace at which the detail was coming. It looked like the guards had the prisoners double-timing. Lawrence assumed this was for punishment. He couldn't help but smile, even though he felt bad towards his men. He knew that lately, one of the work details had been acting up. Perhaps they had finally stepped over the edge.
Lawrence strolled out into the compound as Sergeant Berg marched the prisoners inside the camp. He lined them up at the gate that led to the administrative buildings. Then, Berg yanked Private Fairnth out of line, and started walking towards the gate.
"Hey," cried Lawrence, as he quickly walked over. He paused when two guards raised their guns. "Sergeant, what are you doing with my man?"
Berg glared at Lawrence. "Zere vas a escape. Zis man—" he shook Luke "—vas viz ze man zat escaped."
Lawrence looked at Luke, who had an uneasy look on his face. "So what are you going to do with him? He didn't do anything wrong."
"I am bringing him to Major Duerr, so zat he can be questioned," said Berg.
"Well then I am coming with you," said Lawrence. "I have to be present for all interrogations of enlisted men."
Luke looked up at berg and smiled triumphantly.
"Then come if you wish," said Berg. He angrily shouted for the guards to open the gate. Lawrence closely followed Berg and Luke inside the office. Duerr looked up from his desk, and frowned.
"What is going on here," he demanded.
"Herr Major, ein Engländer escaped," reported Berg. For his part, he did not look overly worried.
Duerr stood up quickly. "Who?" It was the only time Lawrence had seen Duerr's cool expression falter.
Berg sighed wearily. "Corporal Newkirk, Herr Major."
"Newkirk," repeated Duerr. "The schwein I saved?"
"Jawohl, Herr Major," answered Berg, this time more uneasily.
Duerr frowned. "And what does this Private have to do with it?"
"He vas vorking viz ze Corporal," replied Berg. "I zought he must know something."
"Well," asked Duerr, scrutinizing Luke.
"Honestly, sir," stammered Luke. "I don't know anything. Before we were called back, Peter said he was going to go relieve himself. Right after he left, a guard came to get us. We waited, but Peter never came back."
Duerr looked at Luke for a moment. "Sergeant, take the Private to the cooler. I do not believe he is telling the truth."
"Major," interrupted Lawrence. "You cannot--"
"I can do what I wish," stated Duerr. His tone was so deadly, the temperature seemed to drop. Duerr looked back at Berg. "After that, go search Corporal Newkirk's barracks. Whether you find anything or not, continue to search all the barracks. Keep all the prisoners in the compound in formation until you are done. I will take care of trying to find Corporal Newkirk."
"Jawohl Herr Major," said Berg. "Kommen Sie."
Luke was pulled out of the office, and threw a helpless look to Lawrence. Lawrence looked back to Duerr, but Duerr's eyes were already on him. And they held no room for compromise. Lawrence left the office quickly, letting the guards take him out into the compound for a long wait. The reaction of Duerr was worrisome. What if they found something?
However, what made Lawrence half-smile as he was stuck in formation, was that at least Peter Newkirk had escaped. Now, they would just wait and see how long he managed to stay away.
***** ***** *****
Back in the little town of Bielski, there was no news of any escape yet. Louis was coming to the end of his chores, and his heart was pounding in his chest. It was almost time for him to make the slip he had been planning for days. He and peter had decided that it was best that they escape on the same day. They assumed that is someone escaped, security would be heightened, making it harder for the next person to get out. Naturally, it would be harder to escape from the town than from the farm. But Louis had finalized his plans and now all he had to do was pull it off.
At first, he had thought about talking to Karol Symanski, the chef he worked for. He thought that perhaps the Pole would help him. But after consulting with Peter, who had had the same idea to involve Jakowitz, they decided no. It would be a risk to the Poles and their family. And ultimately, the less people who knew about the plans, the better. In a word of passing, there could be a leak they could not afford. Louis only hoped that if--no, when--he escaped, that Symanski was not blamed for anything.
Finally, the time came. The guard who usually stood outside the kitchen left at 0300. He did this everyday to make his rounds down the street. After he was done, he would begin rounding up the prisoners to be marched back to camp. Also, at this time of day, there was the least amount of people out on the streets. And now that it had begun to snow once more, even less people would venture out. Louis watched the guard walk off. Then, taking a garbage bag to have an excuse to go out, Louis left the kitchen. Karol, Janina, and Mikolaj did not even look up. They were so used to having him around and doing his chores perfectly.
Outside, the cold bit his face. But he was more warm than usual, because today he had layered on everything he had. He and Peter had been furiously sewing themselves some more clothes to wear under their uniforms. Louis walked down the alley of the back of the shops, and peeked around the corner. There was no one in sight on the street. Louis threw on his jacket that had no military insignia on it, and pulled his hat low. Sticking his hands in his pocket, he tried to look like a casual citizen hurry somewhere to get out of the weather. As he walked, he wrapped a scarf around his neck.
As Louis walked down the street, his hair on the back of his neck was standing up. His instincts screamed for him to get cover. He kept waiting for a shout, or a shot…something that announced that he had been spotted as an enemy soldier. But there was nothing. He did not look anywhere but ahead. He passed the shops, praying that anyone looking outside did not wonder about him. Suddenly, he heard the jingle of a bell, and voices. Someone was coming out of the shop in front of him. At first, he froze, his mind locked in fear. Then, he quickly side-stepped off the sidewalk and into the doorway of a carpenter's shop. He pretended to be looking into the windows at the clocks and frames on display. He nearly buckled when he heard the unmistakable sound of Wehrmacht boots. But he forced himself to stay in one place. The boots went by him, never slowing. Louis's heart was now in his throat. He saw the reflection of the guard go by in the window. Once he passed, Louis risked a glance to watch the guard go down the street. He passed up the alley. Louis breathed a sigh of relief. That meant that the guard would not miss him yet.
With that little bit of satisfaction, Louis turned and walked down the street quickly. He walked around another corner, coming across his next step. He had always noticed the bike that was rested against the wall beside the library. It was chained to a pipe, but Louis pulled out a wire-clipper someone at a farm had nicked. He quickly glanced around, and then snapped the chain. He was startled by the clink of metal on metal, but took a deep breath to steady himself. Then, he hopped on the bike, and started riding down the road, away from the town. He crossed the tracks, and then took a left. Normally, he took a right when leaving town, for that led towards camp. But now, he was headed north to see what obstacles lay before them on a venture for escape.
***** ***** *****
Duerr hurried back into his office upon hearing the phone ring. He picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Herr Major, there has been an escape."
"What? Who is this?"
"It is Sergeant Jungen, sir, from town."
"You mean there is another escape?"
"Another? No, sir, there has only been one…I think. Yes, sir, only one from the town."
"Bring the prisoners back here immediately."
"Yes, sir."
"Wait. Who was it that escaped?"
"Uhh…Corporal Louis LeBeau, of the French Army." A pause. "Major, are you there?"
"Yes, just return immediately."
"Yes, sir. We are coming."
Duerr hung up the phone slowly. He looked out the windows where more prisoners were being lined up for inspection as they came back from work. He saw the officers in front, and he frowned. He could not figure it out. There had been organization amongst the men when the officers arrived. This was to be expected. What was also expected was an attempt to escape. It was more likely also to happen now that officers had come to lead their men. He knew they were up to something ever since they argued for more recreation time. But his guards each night worked tirelessly over the camp, looking over every inch for signs of escape. They had found nothing. So, either these prisoners were very good at disguising their work, or there really was nothing going on.
Now these escapes had come. And they made sense. Duerr found comfort in that, because it meant he could predict their next move. These corporals knew each other, had showed resilience to their captors, and had also shown their ability to work with one another. Duerr realized they must have planned this escape.
Duerr only hoped that they did not make a mistake. Oh, he did want to catch them and they would be punished. But he only hoped they did not make the unfortunate mistake of crossing trails with the SS. He had hoped, that when he dropped the clue to the British and French officers a few days before, that the caught it. That they realized there was something else out there, so that if they attempted something, they were wary of something that made even Duerr sick and his skin crawl.
That was why, all along, Duerr and his commanding officer, the Kommandant, had applied for this position. They had seen many things; dishonorable things that as officers and gentlemen, they could hardly stand. They had hoped, with this position, to keep others out of the horror.
Of course, Duerr did not realize that the officers had taken the clue, and had actually set out to remedy it with their adventurous corporals. And little did any of the prisoners know what horror really lay out there.