The Devil's Blessing (12 page)

He shrugged. "I think Josef is right," Otto said in a whisper. "I think Arizona is a region that the ship was named after. But I thought it was a river, to be honest."

"Bah," Ingersleben said, putting his hat over his eyes. "You guys don't know anything. The USS Arizona was named after the famed General Bill Arizona."

"Bill Arizona?" Wernher said through a small, painful laugh. "I've never heard of such a man."

"Well, now you have," Ingersleben said, as he went off to sleep. Wernher and Otto shared a smile and a look before they, too, went off to sleep in the morning air.

Lafenz just stared at them, and did not sleep.

❧

The mountain, or whatever it was, proved to be the pain to climb they had thought it would be. Covered in trees, it made for a fantastic way to travel unseen, but made for the slowest of goings as they had to climb up. It wasn't steep, but it was constant, and with the burden that was Wernher, it was slow going. But that night, they made it to the summit of the hill and took a well-deserved break.

"We rest here for now," Ingersleben said. "And if we sleep here, so be it. I can think of worse places."

The clouds had parted, and by some small miracle, the stars were out. The few clouds that were out were high in the sky, and the moon was nearly full and low. God was showing His mercy on them that night.

"Here," Ingersleben said, taking off Wernher's boots. "Let me help you with those.” It was an odd moment of affection between the men. Usually the job of helping Wernher, whether with clothes or using the restroom, fell on Otto’s or Lafenz's hands, but tonight, Ingersleben was doing the work. It was as if they really were becoming one unit.

Ingersleben even got out Wernher's blanket and helped him with it. Wernher wanted to tell him to stop, that he preferred sleeping with his boots on to better protect him from the cold, but even he didn't want to pass up the gesture. Ingersleben grabbed Wernher's machine gun and bag and moved them away so as to give Wernher more room to sleep.

"Is there anything else you need?" Ingerlsben asked as he put the men's few supplies away.

For the first time in days, Otto and Lafenz smiled at the same time. It was still freezing that night, but they both felt a warmth in their bellies from the kindness that was being shown. There was still some good in all of this war.

"Do you pray?" Ingersleben asked, with his back turned to Wernher.

"What?" Wernher asked in return, confused. "Me? Do I pray? Not since I was a child. I'm not even sure I believe in God to tell you the truth. I—"

It was the first time any of the men had ever seen Ingersleben cry. They weren't huge tears, and he wasn't sobbing, but the tears could be seen running down his face, as could the pistol he was now pointing at Wernher.

"What? What are you doing?" Wernher said in a small disbelieving laugh.

"You might want to rethink that. The praying part, I mean," Ingersleben said, not moving the gun. “I’m sorry dear friend," he said, "but you know that there is no other choice. For the sake of the other men, we have to leave you."

"This is madness! Leave me, then! Why point that gun at me? This has nothing to do with leaving me behind. A German patrol or a Russian one can find me. They can take care of me. There's no need to--"

"No," Ingersleben said, in a low commanding voice. "You know that is something we can't risk. If you tell them our plan under duress, you'll have us all killed. The only thing I can offer you is chance to pray before you meet our Judge."

"Damn you!" Wernher said through his grinding teeth. Otto and Lafenz just looked on in disbelief. After everything they had seen and witnessed, they should have been prepared for something like this. They wanted it to stop. They just wanted all of this to stop.

"Very well," Ingersleben said, raising his gun to fire.

"When I see God,” Wernher blurted out, “I’m going to tell him everything
you
did.”

This gave Ingersleben pause, and the tears that had been a trickle became a stream. He slowly lowered the gun. He realized that this was a moment in his life, for his eternal soul. If he pulled that trigger, he was condemning both men. One to death, and himself to eternal fire. His mouth was ajar and he looked up at the night sky, looking for an answer that didn't seem to come. But then, just as fast as the tears had started, they stopped. With his free hand, Ingersleben adjusted his jacket, straightening it. He lifted his head along with the gun, firmly pointed back at Wernher.

"Where we're going, God isn't there to tell."

The wolves began to howl at the sound of the lone gunshot that rang out that night.

The next two days, nearly nothing was said. They just went about their nightly hikes and sleep like they had before. The only the real difference was that no one but Ingersleben had a weapon any more.

He had Wernher's machine gun somewhere inside the sack he carried behind his back, but neither Lafenz nor Otto knew where. But they all knew that they all needed each other. It was not possible to get to the west alone, and they all knew it. Not a single one of them knew where they were going, but they all knew that they were getting away from the Eastern Front in a hurry, now that the excess baggage was gone.

They became more machines than anything, going through the motions of the poor existence they had left. Sleep during the day and hike during the night, trying to stay off of main roads if possible. Repeat. Continue.

They saw something that shouldn't have been promising, but it was. A German patrol had come through one morning as they lay inside a ditch just off the road. The tanks made their way past them and the soldiers slowly marched next to them. It was a promising sight. They were no longer being overrun by Soviets.

Even the Nazis were a better prospect than the Soviets. At least if they were caught by a patrol like this one, they would be shot on sight instead of being tortured. It was still dangerous, but it had its merits.

When the troops left, they had little time to sleep, so instead they stayed there that night and slept like regular people with the sunset. It was a welcome change.

❧

The next morning, the first words Otto heard were, "Get up." The words seemed to have come from miles away, yet they felt like they were right next to his ear. "Get up," the voice said again, only this time more concretely, and with a push of a boot.

Otto rose from the cover of high grass to see that they were no longer alone that morning. Off to the right, just out of earshot, were both Ingersleben and Lafenz, talking to another Nazi. Their band of three had become five, but these men had cleaner suits and well-oiled machine guns at the ready. They must’ve been stragglers from the previous day’s troop movements, Otto thought.

Ingersleben and Lafenz were both smoking. As Otto approached, they offered him a cigarette, which he quickly said no to with a raised hand.

Laughter was coming from the group, but he could feel an uneasiness about it. Maybe it was just the past days' events, but more than likely, it was the way the German who had woken him was walking behind him, as if he was transporting a prisoner. Maybe he was.

The light was blinding that morning. The sun was out, something they had trained their eyes not to see in days. Adding to Otto’s disorientation was the fact that it felt as if they had just gone to sleep a few hours ago. He was so tired and in no mood to be awoken; he thought that if the news came right there and then that they were to be shot, he wouldn't fight the news. He was that weary and still that depressed.

“We're just wondering where your orders are." The voice came from behind him, a man whose name Lafenz muttered to him—Boesch.

"And I was informing these men, our orders were with our commander, Oberfeldwebel Peter Haas. Who we all know was tragically killed when those Red Army animals attacked our position. We had no choice but to flee."

Otto nodded. It was the story that they had gone over. A version of it, at least. But it was a good one and sounded right to him.

"But we have our orders," said Wildgrube, the other man.

Gerd Boesch and Christoph Wildgrube seemed like near twins. Both men were young men, neither outside of his teens. The only real difference was how they styled their hair. Both had tapered hair, meaning they came from a well nourished group—something that Otto hadn't thought existed anymore.

"And those orders are to check everyone’s papers—military, soldier, and civilian alike."

"And like I've been trying to inform these fine young men, we don't have them. They were blown up along with our dear Haas."

"Then the order is to have you accompany us and to call on our superiors,” Boesch said. “I’m sorry." It didn't seem that he meant it. He wasn't sorry and wanted everyone to know it.

“And by
accompany us
you mean
arrest us
.”

“No, sir. Our orders are quite clear. We are to—”

“Fine, fine. I hate to do this, but it seems you leave us no choice. We are on a top-secret mission to Berlin, and you cannot interfere with it. We are to go and report directly to Berlin, no questions asked," Ingersleben said.

With a wry smile, Wilgrube said, in a very relaxed manner, "Of course. And you'll be right on your way. We must just take you back to our commander, radio Berlin, and let them know that you are here."

"There is no time for that! We are on a very sensitive mission, and time is of the utmost importance!"

"So important that you would be asleep on the side of the road?" Boesch asked, gripping his machine gun just a little tighter.

"Are you questioning me? Do you know who I am? I told you, Boesch, I am not the one who should be answering your questions. It is
you
that should be answering to me." Ingerselben gave an angry look around, as if to convey to everyone how much of an annoyance this was. "You're lucky I have been so cordial. If you knew the sensitivity of our mission, you would not only move out of our way, but you would help us in our haste to continue on with it."

"And we will," Wildgrube said, "just as soon as you come with us. There is no need to be upset. We are stationed no more than a kilometer to the east.”

"No. That will not do. We need to go and we need to go now."

"But if you are on such an important mission, and your commanding officer, this..."

"Haas."

"
Haas
has been killed. Wouldn't you want Berlin to know about it?”

Ingersleben shook his head even more fiercely. "No, no. Radio silence is of the utmost importance. Calling it in opens it up to the enemy to intercept. We have been directed to commit to complete radio silence. There is no other way."

"If you are in such a rush and you need to leave, why don't you just tell us what your mission is?” Boesch said. Ingersleben gave him an annoyed look.

"You know more than me that that's not possible. Now, if you let us go on our way, I promise not to report the both of you, Wildgrube and Boesch. I am, after all, a lenient person. I understand that this is a misunderstanding and that you are two Germans acting in good faith."

"I'm sorry, sir," Wilgrube said. "But we are going to have to pass on your extension of kindness and leniency. If we are to get in trouble by not listening to you and thereby overlooking our orders, then that's something we will take a risk on."

"Really?”

"Yes, really." The just stood there and looked at one another, not saying a word. The cold air seemed to freeze the world. It was as if nothing or no one on earth was moving except the wind that was whistling in their ears, reminding them that they were still on earth.

"And if we don't come with you?"

Wildgrube seemed very calm when he said, “Then our orders are to shoot you."

Ingersleben looked stunned. Lafenz had long since finished his cigarette, but the end of it still stayed in his mouth. As for Otto, he was just an observer of a war of words. He no longer cared about the outcome of this game. He was now fully awake and aware of the stakes, and those stakes involved his life. He did not want to lose it.

This time, it was Boesch who cleared the uncomfortable silence and spoke up, trying to calm the escalating situation. "Sir, you must understand. There are men, cowards, who are running away from their responsibility to the Reich.”

"And you think that I would be one of those men who would abandon his post and run? Run to where? There is nowhere to run!"

"It doesn't matter. There have been several cowards who have been fleeing the battlefield. Some to their country homes to hide in their family barns, others..."

"Others that?"

“Well, to put it bluntly, sir, others that have been running towards the west, trying to surrender to the enemy there."

"And you're saying I'm doing that? That us three are running to French arms?"

Wildgrube shrugged. "We're not sure, sir. But men higher than your rank have been caught doing it. This doesn’t matter, none of this. The situation is settled. You are coming with us to check on your whereabouts, or you will be shot. Those are our orders. I'm sorry."

Ingersleben walked right up to Wildgrube and put his nose right to his. "Yes, Christoph Wildgrube," he said. "You will be very much sorry indeed.”

❧

The walk towards the command post was a slow one, filled with an uncomfortable silence.

"You do understand, we’re just following our orders, don't you, sir?" Boesch asked.

Ingersleben said nothing, letting his silence answer for him. He was angry and wanted the world to know.

A nervous Boesch continued, "If this was your order, I wouldn't change it either. I would follow it to the letter."

Even though Boesch gave words of encouragement, that still didn't stop him from walking behind them, accompanying them like prisoners.

"He's right, you know." This time the voice that was speaking up was Wildgrube. Maybe even he was a little afraid, too. While just a few moments ago it seemed he'd wanted to kill the men, now he wanted to make sure that they didn't take anything that they were doing too personally. "We are just doing our jobs, just like you. This way no one gets shot."