Chapter Thirty-One: The Light in Things
February 6, 1941
"Nice of you to join us," Peter told Louis on the Jakowitz farm. "You were probably gettin' soft from workin' in town."
"'Ardly," replied Louis with a scowl. "Working in the kitchens is 'arder than you think."
"Yea, yea," said Peter. "You've told me that more than I can count."
Though January and December had been harsh with the weather, February began showing signs of warmth early on. So, Farmer Jakowitz declared he would start planting his crops again. This meant he needed more prisoners for work. Duerr pulled out the men in Bielski who had originally been working on the Jakowitz farm. Now, Louis, Marcel and their barracks mates were working once again with the British from Barracke 14. The weather was still nippy, especially in the morning, but by midday, the men had stripped off their winter jackets and sometimes their battledress jackets as well. It was an early spring, and some men had wished it had come later.
"Even though it was freezin' out 'ere, it sure is better than slavin' away in these fields for eternity," complained Everley one day. Most people shared his sentiments. For nearly two weeks they were sowing seeds out in the fields. It was break-backing work. They had to first dig the countless rows, and then go around placing seeds in each little mound. Jakowitz patrolled the fields with the guards, ensuring that every step was done correctly. No seed could be placed too deep or too shallow. He raved about how deep the trenches were. Most men got angrier with him than they did the guards. At least the guards were not picking at every detail.
Jakowitz used to have his machines to do the job, so that it did not require so many men, time, or tedious work. However, the machines had been taken away so that the metal could be turned into war machines. Still, Jakowitz was glad that he could harvest food to sell to the Germans. It was a profit he had no choice but to take.
The planting fields were not the only place prisoners worked. Stephen still commanded men with the sheep and cattle. Jakowitz appeared to have become comfortable with Stephen taking charge of the flock and herd. The Scot had apparently proven that he knew what he was doing. So, Jakowitz spent most of his day out in the fields overseeing the planting, or around the animals in the barn where a few other prisoners worked.
February passed without incident. Work on the tunnels seemed painstakingly slow, but as long as progress kept coming, the men were satisfied. The increased work that was taking place on all the farms was keeping everyone preoccupied. And less people complained about spring at night; now it was easier to get to sleep. February, though, was long and quiet. Routine was routine, and it was hardly broken by anything. The only thing to write home about was that a guard tipped the alarm when he tried sneaking out to go into town to see a girl. Duerr had him making rounds for twenty-four hours, and then he took up his regular daytime post. It appeared that Duerr was as good at disciplining his own men as he was the prisoners.
March came and no sooner did the first day go by, and things started happening. During rec hour, the SS came to camp. It was only Major Jöchmann. However, his presence was enough to stir up the ranks. Only seconds after a prisoner spotted him, the work on the tunnels ceased for the day. The officers were not taking any chance with the SS in camp. All men in the rec hall were able to be seen by the guards. No one was under the stage, underground, or even behind the curtains having secret conversations. A man was sent to the infirmary to have the work on that tunnel stopped as well.
Everyone was worried; and rightly so. Louis's horror stories had been around camp, and everyone knew that Peter had nearly been killed by Jöchmann just to be an example. So, everyone was on guard, and all illegal activity ceased. Jöchmann did not even acknowledge the prisoners' existence when he arrived, though. He went straight to the administrative buildings, and entered Duerr's office without even a knock.
"That's not going to be well-received," said Lawrence as he observed.
Many prisoners, as they went about their recreation hour, watched the office curiously, wondering what went on inside. Peter, Louis, Luke, Stephen, and Marcel were sitting on the French side of camp, watching from a safe distance. Louis did not want Peter to be seen by Jöchmann, and he definitely did not want to be seen by Jöchmann. Their friends readily agreed, so they decided to keep a low profile for the hour.
"'E is a very strange man," said Louis. "'E 'as creepy eyes, and seems to find pleasure when 'e must punish people."
"I've a feeling that's an understatement," commented Stephen.
"'E is more like a monster," observed Marcel.
"Agreed," said Luke.
"A ruddy nightmare," said Peter at least. "And I 'aven't even laid eyes on the chap yet."
"Well," said Stephen. "Maybe it's better that ye not. That way he never runs intae ye."
Only seconds later, the guards were ordering a roll call and that rec hour was over.
"Sergeant that is against regulations," Géraud was telling Berg as he announced it. "We are entitled to one hour of recreation by the Geneva Conventions."
"Today is different," was all Berg said in argument. Then, he continued to round up all the British you were on the French side. Peter, Luke, and Stephen reluctantly left. When the entire camp was in formation, Duerr stepped out with Jöchmann at his side. The SS Major seemed to be enjoying himself while Duerr looked absolutely livid. Still, they were both composed as they came to stand in front of the ranks.
Peter was glad he was not in the front row. Louis was right, the man was a creep. His look just gave Peter the chills. He just stood there for a long time, looking over them all, as if inspecting how well they stood in place.
"Major," said Duerr impatiently. "You are taking up time. Let us move to the next compound so that you can leave. Dinner needs to be served in fifteen minutes."
"Ah, yes," said Jöchmann. "Forgive me. Let us move onto the French." He almost looked excited.
Peter grimaced, thinking of Louis. What if that creep went looking for him? What if he tried to do something to him? Like make an example of him? Humiliate him or just hurt him in front of everyone? As the two officers started walking towards the gate into the next compound, Peter started forward, about to bring the attention onto himself. When he stepped forward, Luke grabbed his arm.
"What are you doing?"
"He's gonna go find Louie…I know it."
"You can't go out there," said Luke. "He'll kill you."
Stephen, who was further down the line, caught Peter's eyes and shook his head fiercely. But Peter was determined. He wrenched himself from Luke's grasp, and took another step. He opened his mouth to give a shout, but suddenly a large hand was over his mouth, and he was pulled back into the formation. He was spun around, and Peter looked up at Berg with surprise.
Berg did not take his hand off Peter's mouth as he talked to him. "You haf to trust Major Duerr. He vill not let your French friend get hurt. You vill only get yourself in trouble if you leave the line." Finally, he took his hand off Peter's mouth, but did not let him go.
"I don't care if I get in trouble," said Peter. "I won't let that monster touch my friend."
"He vill not," said Berg earnestly. "Major Duerr vill not let him. You see. Now get back in line. Stay there." He pushed Peter back in place, and looked at him accusingly.
"Why do you care anyway," asked Peter.
Berg smiled. "I like Major Duerr better than the SS Major. I trust Major Duerr. He has never treated me badly or anyone else badly without cause."
Peter looked distrustful, but opted to say no more. Instead, he peered into the French compound worriedly. Every eye in the British compound was now turned to the French as well. Jöchmann did the same as he had done with the British. He stood before the formation watching with the utmost interest. As the British had been, many of the French soldiers fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze. Peter strained to see Louis, but he was well within the ranks.
"If your major is so great, why isn't 'e gettin' rid o' that creep now," asked Peter impatiently.
Berg scowled. "He cannot push around the SS."
Peter glared, but said no more when Jöchmann took some steps forward. It looked like he was talking.
***** ***** *****
Louis stood in the most perfect example of attention. He wanted to bring no attention upon himself. Marcel was down the row, being of higher rank. The tension was thick in the air with the SS Major staring at the prisoners. But then he stepped forward.
"You must all be wondering what I am doing here," he said. His accent was thick but controlled. "I only came to inspect the ranks, so to speak. However, your Major and Kommandant believe that you are none of my business; they learned that they were wrong today. The security of this area lies in the hands of the SS, and so the security of this camp is something I am concerned with. Therefore, I will be making periodical inspections of this camp. That should be of enough warning for you now. I know one of your comrades around here has already been privileged to my punishment. Perhaps he can enlighten you. Unless—" he turned to look at Duerr "—that man died with the pneumonia?"
"He is not dead," Duerr replied evenly.
"Well, then," said Jöchmann. "Why does he now step forward, so that I can see how he is?"
No one moved. "That was not a suggestion," said Jöchmann. "It was an order."
Duerr's eyes scanned the Frenchmen. When no one moved, Géraud stepped forward. He looked at Jöchmann.
"None of my men take orders from you," he said. "I am their commanding officer. They take no orders from anyone but me."
"They took orders from someone before you were here," retorted Jöchmann sharply.
"Oui," replied Géraud. "Him." He gestured to Duerr. Jöchmann looked at Duerr with composed anger. Suddenly, he raised his hand; about to strike Géraud for is so-called insolence.
"Halt!"
Duerr's words came out so authoritatively and forcefully that Jöchmann actually stopped and turned on his heel quickly. But when he saw that it was only Duerr behind him he smiled.
"You think to protect these prisoners," he sneered.
"Commandant Géraud," said Duerr. "Get back in line." Géraud did immediately, much to Jöchmann's annoyance. Duerr looked at Jöchmann. "One thing you do not seem to realize is that you are not in charge of these men. His camp is under the Kommandant's rule. You have the ability to come to inspect security, but never the men themselves. That charge still lies with the Wehrmacht, and rightly so. The Wehrmacht captured these men, and therefore they remain in our hands. They are currently laborers of the Third Reich, and should you harm one of them, you will need to pay up for what service will be missed. Now, should you ever mistreat one of these men without due cause, you will find yourself in trouble. You will have disobeyed orders; orders you cannot get around because they were given by your own superiors. So—" he looked to Géraud. "Step forward Commandant." Géraud did, hiding his confusion. Duerr looked back at Jöchmann. "So, considering all that, you may now strike this man if you wish."
Géraud, for his part, did not look surprised at all by Duerr's offer. But the enlisted men could not so easily squelch their disapproval. Angry murmurs rose up from the ranks. Capitaine Noël quieted them, and Géraud appeared proud. He smiled smugly at Jöchmann, as if daring him to strike. The suspense was too much for Louis, who suddenly cried out.
"Non!"
He broke from formation, and came to stand by Géraud. He saluted and went to attention.
"Do not strike Commandant Géraud," he pleaded. "It is me you want, non? Well, I am 'ere."
Jöchmann smiled. "I knew you spoke English," he said at last. "Well, I see that you have untamed prisoners, Major." His hand twitched. "But, I will do nothing about it now. Maybe after the work more this spring, they will lose the spring in their step, no? Ha, ha." His laugh was not cheery, and no one smiled with him. But he knew it. He just straightened his jacket and looked at Duerr. "I think my inspection is complete, Major. Thank you for your time."
Without one more look to the prisoners, he left. No one moved or said a word until he was out of the camp. When his car disappeared around the road, Géraud turned on Louis immediately.
"What were you thinking," he asked in French. "At attention, Corporal. Listen, you had orders from Captain Noël to remain in line and be silent. You did neither. He could have really hurt you had he had a mind to. I suggest you learn how to obey orders if you want to keep yourself hidden from that man."
"Yes, sir," replied Louis. "But I did not want him to hurt you. It is not right. He wanted me."
"That is not your decision," said Géraud. "Now get back in line."
Louis saluted and did as he was told. Back in line, Marcel gave him a livid look, and Louis knew he would get a good reprimanding from him as well. Not to mention he could practically see Peter's face in his mind's eye. The Englishman was probably fuming on the other side of the fence at the stupidity of it all. Louis was just glad that Peter had still not been seen.
Duerr had remained still while Géraud talked to his men. He hid a smile when he heard the conversation. He had had men in the past that were just as protective. And--as he knew that Géraud was implying--he had cared for his men just as much. But those days were in the past out in a battlefield. Not that he felt responsibility to the men under his command now, but there was a difference when you were fighting a battle. A man's life at stake changes many things.
When Géraud finished and then stepped back in line himself, Duerr dismissed the French prisoners to the mess hall for dinner. They eagerly went, already tired of standing in line. Duerr watched them go, and then went into the British compound. The men were lined up in formation just as he had left them. Except that Berg was standing in the ranks, his hand around the back of Corporal Newkirk's neck in restraint. Duerr once again had to hide a smile. He should have known the Corporal would try something when his French counterpart was in danger. Berg, of course, had been quick enough to prevent that. Duerr then dismissed the British prisoners to their barracks, assuring them that they would get dinner after the French.
He watched as Berg released the English Corporal only at the side of his other close companions. They urged him along into the barracks. Duerr nodded to Berg in satisfaction and then went back into his office. There, he was not surprised to find the Kommandant there, looking out the window onto the compound.
"He will fight for control of this camp," said the Kommandant.
"I know," replied Duerr. "And he will try every trick in the book to get it."
"You did well in challenging him," complimented the Kommandant.
"Thanks," said Duerr, with a pleasant smile as he took his seat at the desk. "Creeps like that bring out the best in me."
The Kommandant smiled as he watched the English Corporal steal one last glance towards the mess before finally going into the barracks.
"It brings out the best in others as well, I see."
***** ***** *****
"I guess we really can trust the Major," said Luke when they sat down in the barracks. Peter stomped past him and snatched a pack of cigarettes from his bunk. He pulled one out and quickly lit it. Only then did he sit down and smoke it. But his eyes betrayed that he was still not comfortable.
"That idiot," he finally said after a long drag. "The ole creep could've really done 'arm."
"Didn't you hear the Major," said Luke. "He wouldn't have let the creep get far enough to really hurt Louis."
"Yea," said Peter. "But now the creep will always be lookin' for Louie whenever 'e comes by on 'is little 'inspection' tours. Louie should've stayed in line."
Stephen laughed. "Yer a bona fide hypocrite, Peter. Berg had tae grab ye by the neck so ye wouldn't run oot there. An' if ye'd been in Louie's position, ye'd have done the same thing." Peter gave him a look, and Stephen laughed again. "Don't denay it, lad. We know it, you know it, and Berg obviouslay knew it."
Finally, Peter smiled and shrugged. "Yea. I just wish Louie were smarter than me. I guess I won't come down 'ard on 'im."
***** ***** *****
March 2, 1941
"It was foolish is all I'm sayin'."
Louis rolled his eyes as he dug out the ditch more. Ever since they had been sent to work out in the field about a half-hour ago, Peter had been on him about the whole incident that had taken place the day before. Louis let him ramble, knowing that his friend was only concerned. Marcel had done the same at the mess.
Down the ditch, and at the end of the line, Luke had drifted off out of earshot of Peter a long time ago. He was absorbed in his thoughts of home as he dug. He thought about when he used to do this after running away from home before the war. He had joined up, and the first thing he had done was dug ditches for the new base built out somewhere in the English countryside. Now, he was digging ditches so the fields could drain well. Some change of life, he thought. Still, he liked being outdoors. That was better than anything. Sitting in camp all day confined in the barracks was enough to drive most men crazy. So, getting out--even for work--was something he enjoyed.
Luke stopped momentarily, and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He stretched and then leaned on his shovel to take a break. While he stood there, he let his eyes wander over the farm, and into the fields where the cattle were grazing. Something then caught his eye on the tree line. There was movement in the woods. He watched curiously, and was stunned when a large, black she-wolf loped out of the woods and into the field. Luke's jaw dropped when he became more astonished when three wolf pups followed her. They were in the corner of the field, and Luke saw what drew them: a small pond in the field where the cattle drank from during the day. Currently, there were no cattle at the watering hole, which had persuaded the she-wolf to lead her pups into the vicinity. Luke watched intriguingly as the four drank.
"Hey! Get to vork!"
Luke spun around at the shout he knew was directed to him. Berg was standing p on the bank of the ditch, looking down menacingly at the idle Luke. Ever since the escape, Berg guarded Peter. So, the Sergeant was usually never far from Luke.
"Okay," said Luke exasperatedly. "I was just taking a break."
But the shout and drawn eyes to him, and also in the direction of the wolves. Now, many men spotted the wolves, including the guards. Immediately, an alarm went up, especially when Farmer Jakowitz spotted them. He created an uproar immediately, demanding that the wolves be shot.
"Why are you going to shoot them," asked Luke. "They're not bothering anything."
"Because zey vill eventually hunt ze livestock," explained Berg. "The vater source vill draw zem here."
"How do you know," argued Luke. "You don't have to kill them."
"Luke," said Peter sternly. "Wot 'as to be done, 'as to be done. Wolves are threats to livestock. Everyone knows that."
"But they're just pups," said Luke.
"Just get back to vork," ordered Berg. "Und let us do our job." He gave Luke a little push in the chest.
"Oi, we're getting' back to work," snapped Peter, sending a glare in Berg's direction. "No need to be forceful, now."
Berg just chuckled, and looked up where guards had started going after the wolves. Unsurprisingly, the she-wolf ran off, the pups at her heels as they fled. She stopped when she hit the tree line, and let her pups go before her. She snarled at the guards as they neared, and then leapt into the woods. The guards followed immediately. By now, every man on the farm was watching. But the guards and wolves went out of sight. Though, only moments later, there were two shots fired. About thirty seconds, another was fired. After that, everything went still.
Jakowitz was standing by the watering hole when the guards returned. They reported that they had killed the she-wolf and two of her pups. The third pup had disappeared. Jakowitz shrugged, saying it would most likely die if it were alone. The guards returned to the fields, and everyone went back to work.
"They didn't have to kill them," Luke muttered disappointedly.
Peter looked at Luke sharply. "You can't save everyone, mate. I know you want to, but you just can't. Besides, you'll only 'urt yourself more when you keep tryin' an' you don't make it sometimes."
"Fine thing for you to say," Luke retorted angrily. Peter, Louis, and Marcel looked up at him, startled. Stephen was with the sheep out in the fields. Luke stepped up to Peter so that his face was inches away. "I can try, can't I? I don't want them to win." He pointed at Berg, who was watching the argument from out of the ditch. "And the way the win here is by making us think we can't change anything. So, if you please, I think I'll be just as optimistic as I can, and I'll try and help whoever I can." He then went back to work.
Peter looked at Louis and Marcel, who both shrugged. He then looked back at Luke. "Sorry, mate. I just didn't want you to worry so much."
***** ***** *****
That night, it got colder than usual. Luke had chosen to keep his battledress jacket on while he slept. But it was not the cold that was keeping him awake. He was deep in thought at what had transpired out in the fields that day. He hadn't really meant to snap at Peter that way. It just seemed that sometimes the man took up a role that was too protective and pessimistic. Luke knew Peter was only scared for his friends, and Luke took comfort in that. It was nice to know someone was always watching your back. Still, he wished he could let Peter know that Luke was watching out for him, and meant to keep him hopeful through all of this. That was what Luke considered his job here. While Peter thought he had the job of watching out for everyone in terms of threats, Luke thought he had the job of watching out for everyone in terms of losing hope.
Luke sighed as tiredness slowly crept up on him. He really should get to sleep; another day of work ahead of them all. Then, right when he closed his eyes, a sound pierced the night. It was the most eerie, yet beautiful sound he had ever heard. Its pitch sent shivers up his spine, and the hair rose on his back when more tones joined it, forming an impeccable harmony. Luke sat up, and rolled over to the window. He leaned over and pushed it and the shutters open, so that he could hear the sound better.
Immediately, the other men woke up when they heard the howling. Other windows were open, and the men went still as they listened. The orchestra went on for what seemed hours; it was truthfully just minutes. But the wolf howls grew louder towards the end, and of higher pitch. It was coming from the north, where the farms lie.
All around the camp, prisoners and guards were listening. It was not late into the night, so few had really been asleep. Even Duerr and the Kommandant were listening.
It was mournful, Luke thought. A mournful howl that only described their woes. Luke looked around him, seeing the thoughtful look on many men's faces. He looked down on the bunk below him, where Peter lie. Peter was looking through the window up at the sky. Luke followed his gaze; it was nearly a full moon.
"It's beautiful," murmured Luke, looking at Peter.
Peter smiled. "Yea. The moon and the wolves."
Luke smiled back. "Sad too."
"Yea," said Peter. "But still beautiful."
Luke lay back on his bed, as the howls died away. I guess he can be optimistic at times.