a pinch of history

February 14, 1945, outskirts of Danzig (Gdańsk)

The heinous cold stung his limbs with icy tongues, taunting him mockingly. He hated the lack of heat, but hated the thought of being dead more. He couldn't be part of the Wehrmacht anymore, he hated anything that had to do with his own country, Germany, and force; with the way things were advancing, he'd be dead in no time. Call him a deserter, call him a coward, but he'd rather be either of those than dead anytime.

Now he was stuck here after walking for so long – it felt like days – and he couldn't, anymore. His feet were so frozen that he was afraid they'd fall off. Soon he wouldn't be able to walk any longer so this was his last resort. His only resort.

Biting his purple lips, he knocked loudly, inwardly panicking when he realized he couldn't feel his fingers.

"Wer ist da?" came a voice from inside and he breathed out in relief. This was the only house nearby and he had to play it right.

"Bitte schön... lassen Sie mich drin kommen. Ich bin fast gefroren," he begged, his dignity be dammed.

There was the distinct noise of fumbling with the locks before the same female voice asked, "Wer sind Sie?"

"Ich..." Damn. He hadn't thought to invent a story, hadn't predicted it would pose a problem. "Ich bin ein Reisende. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin."

"Mein Mann hat mir gesagt, ich soll niemand drinnen lassen. Tut mir leid," she said, her words filling him with absolute dread, but he tried to keep his calm.

"Ihrer Mann ist sehr intelligent, aber falls irgendeiner Ihre Hilfe braucht, helfen Sie ihm nicht? Dann wären Sie herzlos."

"Tut mir leid, aber ich kann nichts für Sie tun. Diese Tür öffne ich nicht."

"Nein! Warten sie nun! Ich hab' gelügt: ich bin kein Reisende, sondern ein Fahnenflüchtige. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin! Ich werde einfrieren, wenn ich draußen bleibe."

He knocked on the door harder; she, on the other hand, still wouldn't open. His words, though, and his desperate voice pulled at her heartstrings.

"Fahnenflüchtige? Hier werden sie keine Hilfe finden. Suchen Sie anderswo. Sofort! Ich will unbedingt, dass sie weggehen!" Her voice was determined, a tad scared, a hint tired and nothing short of angelic. It was highly ironic.

"Weg!" she repeated, kept repeating, shouting even, but he didn't give up. "Bitte," he'd say. "Bitte schön," he'd beg. The woman ignored his pleas and knocks that had become punches; she didn't open. After a while she didn't even yell at him to leave anymore.

Morning came; she got up and lit a new candle for yet another Sunday since her husband had been called by the Kriegsmarine, the German Navy. He hadn't returned ever since. There were twenty-six candles and no news of her dear Hans-Georg. As always, she dressed up to go to church and talk to the good, but slightly womanizing priest, starting right after opening the door. The deserter from the previous night – she'd forgotten all about him – he was dead now, his face purple from frost, though his attractive, manly features still striking.

A shame.

The thought of anyone treating her darling Hans so heartlessly had a stab of guilt shooting through her gut, but she didn't lose hope: he'd find his way back to her, just as promised.

"Er had es verprochen. Mein Hans ist kein Lüger."

The deserter had thick eyebrows and unusually long, black hair that turned white as she dragged him through the snow. Her heart pounded mercilessly, but she cast that on the fear that someone else might come by.

How could she know that she should have saved him?

einehexe says: Sorry. I didn't mean to leave you all confused - no, I'm lying. I did mean to write in German, because I felt like I needed to. I know it's annoying to check the meanings at the bottom, but it's not such a long text, so you won't have to scroll down a lot :) Here it is:

o Wer ist da? - Who is here?
o Bitte schön... lassen Sie mich drin kommen. Ich bin fast gefroren - Please let me in. I'm almost frozen.
o Wer sind Sie? - Who are you?
o Ich... - I...
o Ich bin ein Reisende. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin - I'm a traveler. Please let me in.
o Mein Mann hat mir gesagt, ich soll niemand drinnen lassen. Tut mir leid - My husband told me not to let anyone in. I'm sorry.
o Ihrer Mann ist sehr intelligent, aber falls irgendeiner Ihre Hilfe braucht, helfen Sie ihm nicht? Dann wären Sie herzlos. - Your husband is very intelligent, but if someone needs your help, don't you give it to them? Then you'd be heartless.
o Tut mir leid, aber ich kann nichts für Sie tun. Diese Tür öffne ich nicht. - Sorry, but there's nothing I can do for you. I'm not opening the door.
o Nein! Warten sie nun! Ich hab' gelügt: ich bin kein Reisende, sondern ein Fahnenflüchtige. Bitte lassen Sie mich drin! Ich werde einfrieren, wenn ich draußen bleibe. - No! Wait! I lied: I'm not a traveler, but a deserter. Please let me in. I'll freeze if I stay outside.
o Fahnenflüchtige? Hier werden sie keine Hilfe finden. Suchen Sie anderswo. Sofort! Ich will unbedingt, dass sie weggehen! - Deserter? You won't find help here. Look elsewhere. Right now! I want you to go!
o Weg! - Go!
o Bitte/Bitte schön - Please
o Er had es verprochen. Mein Hans ist kein Lüger. - He promised. My Hans is no liar.

And also sorry if I don't have the facts right (there aren't many facts, actually, just a date and a place and a language, and that's it) If my German is wrong, then feel free to correct me; I always do enjoy constructive criticism, especially when it comes from good will :)