A Feather on the Water(37)

It dawned on her that these boots had almost certainly belonged to the Allied troops who had fought their way up through France and Germany and had died in battle.

And you’re going to run away. Again.

It was Arnie’s voice. It might have been cowardly, running out on him. But how much more cowardly would it be to run away from the people the owners of these boots had given their lives to save?





CHAPTER 10


Two days later, the phone in the office rang to announce that a trainload of DPs was on its way.

“That was Major McMahon,” Kitty said, as Martha came through the door of the office. “He says four hundred people are coming to us. They’re due to arrive at Fürstenfeldbruck this afternoon.”

“Four hundred,” Martha gasped. “But we can’t fit more than two hundred in the stables!”

“What can we do?” Kitty shook her head. “He wants us there by three o’clock to meet them off the train.”

Martha blew out a breath. “We’ll have to talk to the blockhouse leaders. Tell them they’ll have to make room for more people.”

“But there’s already . . .”

“I know,” Martha cut in. “Hardly any space in any of them. But we’re going to have to persuade them.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Extra cigarettes? We’ll have to squeeze at least ten more people in each house.” Martha burned with anger at the thought of the major ladening them with so many more DPs than they had been expecting. It was as if he were setting her up to fail.

“You want me to go and talk to them now?”

“I’m sorry, Kitty—you always end up having to do my dirty work. It’d be mostly sign language if I tried to do it. If you could go to blocks one to eight, I’ll ask Stefan to do the rest.”

Stefan appeared ten minutes after Kitty had left the office. Despite her agitation, Martha felt a tingle at the sight of him. She hoped it didn’t show on her face. This was not what she’d come to Germany for—to get involved with another man. She had to snuff out this feeling before it took hold of her.

No sooner had she explained to him about the coming influx of DPs than a loud rap at the door announced the arrival of a delegation of blockhouse leaders. The news had spread through the camp like wildfire.

“Nie mamy miejsca!” We have no room! The oldest of them, a bearded man in a long military coat with several buttons missing, came striding up to the desk, hands spread in front of him.

Stefan asked him what sounded like a question. A heated exchange followed. Martha was reminded of the time Stefan had broken up the spat between the fishermen and the German farmer.

A few minutes later the three leaders left the office. Martha was alarmed by their scared, bewildered expressions as they turned to go.

“What did you say to them?”

He shrugged. “I told them that if they didn’t make room, the army would come and do it—then put them in jail.”

“Stefan!”

“You think I told a lie?” There was fire in his eyes. “It happened before you came. How do you think all the DPs live this way without fighting?”

Martha sank into the chair. She’d tried so hard to manage things without resorting to the army. The thought of threatening these people with jail after what they’d suffered at the hands of the Nazis was anathema to her. And yet Stefan was saying it was the only way things could be run. The chasm in her understanding gaped before her. And now four hundred more were coming.



Martha went to warn the cooks that there would be many more mouths to feed that evening. Then she went to tell the guard at the warehouse that more supplies would need to be sent down to the kitchens. After that she hurried to find Delphine.

It was Wolf who met Martha when she got to the hospital. “Madame Fabius go see woman.” He mimed a big belly. “Number six house.”

Martha ran all the way to the blockhouse. She found Delphine examining Jadzia—the young woman who was still waiting for news of her GI fiancé.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Martha said, “but we’re about to get four hundred new arrivals. I’m going to need you to come with me.”

“I’ll go and tell Wolf to get extra beds ready.” Delphine put her stethoscope away. “There are bound to be some sick ones. And we’ll need DDT to dust them down at the gates.”

Martha nodded. Stefan had told her how he’d been herded into a tent on arrival at Seidenmühle to be covered from head to feet with vile-smelling powder. It was the army’s method of killing the body lice that bore typhus. “I’ll ask Sergeant Lewis to set that up,” she said. “We’d better get some food sent to the gatehouse to hand out while they’re waiting.”

Delphine nodded. “Canned milk, too—for the babies and children.” She glanced at her watch. “What time are we leaving?”

“No later than two.”

“Is someone coming to collect us?”

“No, I can drive. I know the way.”

“Will it be all right? All of us going?”

“I’m leaving Stefan in the office,” Martha replied. “He won’t stand for any nonsense.”

“I’m sure he won’t.” Delphine smiled. “He’s what my husband would have called the strong, silent type.”