Chapter Twenty-Three: Not As Planned

When Peter and Louis planned their escape, they had made the tough decision not to meet up with one another when they were outside the wire. With undoubtedly only a couple of days to gather information, they agreed that by splitting up, there was a better chance to gain more ground. They were already a good five miles away from each other. Peter was east of town, so Louis planned heading in a more western direction. They were both going north, though.

Louis managed to ride his bike up the road about a mile. He went by two farms, but after it was wilderness. The precious farm land of the valley dissipated, and the rest became hilly forests. Louis abandoned the bike when the road was constantly uphill. He left the road and went to trek through the woods. It was quiet. It was peaceful. There was wildlife; something Louis had never thought about before. He noticed squirrels, birds, a fox, and even a stealthy weasel. It was a comfort to see something so constant, yet pure, as nature. Dusk fell into darkness quickly. Louis found a cozy little space between two logs that had fallen downhill. He even pulled some braches over the two logs to give him cover, should it snow again. He pulled out a piece of bread he had kept for the occasion. There was also a canteen hidden in his jacket. He took that out and sipped some water. He was being careful with his provisions, though. He had three more pieces of bread, but the main matter was water. He thought that with what he had the most he could was three days. If he managed that long without being captured, he would hopefully get some good information. So far, he had just a lot of peaceful wilderness to report on.

Going back was becoming less and less popular with him each moment. Even though he was a little cold, he was finally out on his own again, and free. Still, he remembered that Peter was out there, doing his mission as well. Louis could not let himself down by letting Peter down.

And if Peter really escaped?

Louis had thought about it. Louis hated being a prisoner of war, so he knew Peter did. He also knew Peter had a different way of looking at prisons. He knew Peter had a different way of looking at honor and duty. He trusted Peter, but wondered that if times got tough or tempting enough, would Peter throw out duty to others and then focus solely on himself? Would he save his own skin given the chance, or would he stay and help his comrades?

Louis was troubled, but exhausted. The battle in his mind was just as tiring as his escape. So, he closed his eyes, and let sleep take him. At least, for now, he was free.

***** ***** *****

Peter had set off at a dead run, his adrenaline pumping at his breath of freedom. He may have still been in enemy territory, but this chance to just run…it was so exhilarating and satisfying. He had been yearning for it for so long. There was no barbed wire closing in on him the further he ran, no guards lurking with their rifles, and no towers looming with searchlights. It was just him.

After a few minutes, Peter slowed down, and then collapsed into the brush with a lazy smile on his face. He lay there for a few minutes, looking up at the sky through the thick boughs of the trees. He could hear nothing but his own pounding heart. He felt like he had not run so hard in years. He let a small chuckle bubble from his chest. Freedom. It was so bliss. His soul was nearly crying with joy, and for a time, he forgot his mission.

But only for a time.

How could he go back? How could he dare return to such a life? He could just forget the whole thing. He could just keep going. He could make it to the coast…Sweden…home. Home. It was the one place where his heart and soul was begging to return

But the mission. He had a duty, didn't he?

A duty to escape. The duty of every prisoner of war is to try and escape to rejoin the fight.

And his duty to others, though? Did he not have a duty to help his fellow inmates get home as well? And what about his duty to his good friend Louis? Could he really abandon that?

Of course you can. Just don't look back.

But Peter knew it would always be there. He would always regret something like this. Even though his heart yearned for home, he knew that part of his heart would be left here if he never finished this job somehow. Peter trusted Louis as well. Louis would be out there, doing his duty. Louis would be out there, trusting Peter to do his as well. And Peter could not let Louis down. That was unquestionable. That was something Peter's heart would not withstand. He never had, and he never would, betray a friend.

So, he pulled himself up, and steadied himself. He gathered his bearings, and looked northeast. That was his course. Behind him, work was expected to go on for another three hours. If everything went well, Peter figured that he could cover quite a lot of ground in that time. Then, he would pick somewhere to hide himself for the night. He wanted a good night's sleep, and he wanted to wake up on his own terms.

***** ***** *****

Louis would have liked to have woken up on his own terms to. But that was not the case. He was jolted awake by a commotion. He sat up straight, and for a moment, he thought he was back in France. He thought he was back in the field, hunkering down from advancing Germans.

He instinctively ducked when he heard the whizzing of bullets around him. He heard people shouting. He heard German, and some other language. That was when Louis remembered where he was.

Poland. Stalag XXXA. Escape. Mission.

Louis suddenly panicked. Had they already found him?

No, they had not, because the bullets were not being aimed at him. He stayed lying down on his stomach between the two logs, just listening to everything. He heard shots and shouts, people running, dogs barking. There was another, sudden staccato of machine-gun fire, and someone cried out. Dogs began barking and Louis could hear them running by through the brush. There was more fire and another cry. A dog started barking ferociously. Louis froze when he heard someone stop just on the other side of the log. It was a German, giving orders. Louis prayed it was too dark for him to see. The German walked on, and Louis breathed a sigh of relief.

But there was still a lot of action. Dogs were growling, and now the only voices heard were German. They started giving orders again. Louis understood the more standard stuff now.

Get up!

Hands up!

Come here!

On your knees!

Walk forward!

Hands on your head!

It was now all very understandable when you heard most of it day after day. He listened to the Germans give these orders twice. So they had captured two people? But who? Why were they being chased? Were they other prisoners? Louis was curious about all of this, but did not want to risk finding out. So he continued to lay still.

The Germans moved on, back where they had come from. It was up the hill. Louis gave thanks to God that he now knew not to go in that direction. He wondered how close he was to a German outpost. Once it got quiet again, Louis slowly rolled over onto his back. Now in a more comfortable position, he planned his next day. He realized that it would be some time before he got back to sleep. His heart was still pounding. It was not hard to keep himself busy though. He thought about where he should go next, and then after coming up with a plan, he went to thinking about more pleasant things.

Louis tried to recall the taste of home cooked meals; mostly warm, fresh bread. He closed his eyes and envisioned his family's farm, and his little hometown. He could see Paris, as well. He could see himself cooking in his uncle's kitchen. Louis opened his eyes and the first thing he saw were the stars. With a smile, he remembered many nights when he and Jean would sleep outside in the summer. They would camp out in the country side on weekends when they had no work.

But, that was a lifetime ago. Everything was changed.

Louis closed his eyes again. His mind was calming now, as he thought of home and peaceful times. He could feel himself drifting off.

Then, he jolted awake again. There was something or someone still out there. Louis listened intently.

Sniffing?

Louis's heart dropped to his stomach. There was a dog nearby. That meant the Germans were still abroad in the forest, and probably nearby. Louis prayed that the dog did not catch his scent.

Please, Lord. Please don't let him find me. Just let him pass me up. Let him catch someone else's smell. Please, Lord. Please. They can't find me. They just can't.

The sniffing stopped. Louis opened his eyes. The unmistakable silhouette of a German Shepherd stood over him. The dog was looking straight at him. Louis remained still. Perhaps the dg did not see him at all.

Then, the dog turned his head to the sky and howled.

The night would not be peaceful for Louis anymore.

***** ***** *****

Major Duerr picked up the phone for what seemed the hundredth time that night. He had been working through the afternoon and night. He had planned on being out of the camp, personally searching for his missing prisoners, but his Kommandant had insisted going out instead. Duerr was left with orders to communicate between everyone. A regiment of Wehrmacht soldiers had been sent down from the Oflag camp that was twenty miles west of Stalag XXXA. Duerr was confident that he would have the prisoners back within the next day. They were outnumbered, surrounded, and most likely had little provisions and no clue where they were headed. Duerr even thought that they might give up if they became too desperate for food or water. And there was the weather as well. It had begun to snow again, and Duerr knew that if anything could drive a man mad, it was weather.

So, Duerr was really in no worry over the escapees.

But when he heard the voice on the other line, he remembered he did have reason to be worried.

"Is this Major Duerr I have the pleasure in speaking to?"

Duerr's blood turned cold with hatred. "Sturmbannführer, it is never a pleasure to speak with you. So, state your purpose for calling me so late tonight."

"I am sure you are eager to get back to finding your missing prisoners," replied the Sturmbannführer coolly.

Duerr's jaw clenched. How had this parasite found out? Duerr had been sure to keep the matter internal for the Wehrmacht.

The Sturmbannführer chuckled on the other side. "We are the SS. We are able to find out many things. You really think that you could have ordered a regiment from the Oflag without one of my superiors noticing. I received a call this afternoon to be alert for trouble."

"I would have thought you would have learned that by now," said Duerr. "With all the escapes you have had, I would assume that there are now triple the original amount of guards at your camp."

The Sturmbannführer chuckled nonchalantly. "You are so defensive, Major. Besides, none of my prisoners actually make it away. They escape, but we manage to collect them back within a few days. And afterwards, they never escape again."

"Please," spat Duerr. "I do not want to hear about you bullying helpless men. Now, was there any other reason that you wanted to bother me?"

"Actually, yes," said the Sturmbannführer. "I just wanted to let you know that I have always wondered how well the French work."

Duerr had no time to reply, because there was a resounding click on the other side. Still, it took no time for him to realize what the Sturmbannführer had meant by his words. Somehow, the SS had recaptured the French Corporal, and now it appeared that the Sturmbannführer wanted to keep him for his own.

Duerr quickly strode from his office. He called for Berg, left another guard in charged, and then drove out of camp. Berg looked to his commanding officer questioningly.

"Herr Major," he said. "Where are we going?"

"We need to go get one of the prisoners before it is too late," said Duerr.

Berg had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but just let Duerr drive in silence. He could feel the Major's anger and tension. Berg realized that something must have gone wrong.