CHAPTER 29 - OLDENBURG, GERMANY—JANUARY 31, 1917
Anna, a restlessness growing inside her, walked along the landing of the train station with Max and Nia.
Fleck had assigned them to train in town, and she thought that Max might become more talkative as the day progressed.
But the longer they worked, the less he spoke.
Even last night, he’d cut short their work on the piano composition with the excuse that he was tired.
It wasn’t unusual to be exhausted, especially with training in the cold and nearly always being hungry.
However, his silence—as well as Bruno’s reticent behavior, considering he’d gone to bed early rather than stay up with her in the living room—seemed to have begun with the conversation that she partially overheard before last night’s dinner.
“Would you like to tell me why you’re quiet?” she asked, walking with Nia between them.
Max tapped his cane over the ground. “I’m a bit worn out, and my lungs ache from the winter air.”
Nia glanced back but continued padding over the ground.
Anna wondered if something had been said between Max and Bruno to upset them. Her mind raced, attempting to piece together the conversation that she’d interrupted. “What were you and Bruno discussing last night?”
“The war,” Max said. “And how I was blinded.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you to talk about,” she said.
He nodded.
“Did you discuss anything else?”
“His family’s business.”
She waited for him to say more, but he continued walking and tapping his cane. Her heart rate quickened. “I overheard you say something about a Disinfection Unit.”
Max’s pace slowed.
“What is it?”
He glanced toward her, and then tugged on the harness. “Halt.”
Nia stopped.
“Are you sure you want to talk about this?” he asked.
“I do.”
He rubbed his face with a gloved hand, and then said to Nia, “Find a seat.”
Nia scanned the landing and padded to a wooden bench.
Anna sat next to Max, holding his cane with both hands, and Nia curled at their boots.
“I’ve been thinking about how to discuss this with you,” Max said, staring straight ahead. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything.”
“It will be unpleasant,” he said. “And it will not be what you want to hear.”
A knot formed in her stomach. “I don’t care.”
“All right.” He turned toward her. “But please know that what I say, I say with a heavy heart, and that I only want what is best for you.”
“Of course,” she said.
For several minutes, Max told her about his conversation with Bruno, including details of how he was blinded by a ruptured chlorine gas cylinder, which was one of thousands of cylinders that were installed in the trenches by a special squad called the Disinfection Unit.
Also, he informed her that Bruno and he were both at the front near Ypres, Belgium, at the same time—on the eve of the German military’s use of poison chlorine gas, which broke the Hague Convention treaty that banned the use of chemical weapons.
“Oh, God,” she said, lowering her head into her gloved hands.
“It’s been on my mind,” he said. “And I was struggling with how to talk with you about it.”
“Is there more?” she asked, raising her head from her hands.
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “Would you like a moment before I continue?”
“Nein, please finish,” she said, dreading what she was about to hear.
“Bruno mentioned earlier in the week that he began the war in Pioneer Regiment Thirty-six.”
“Ja,” she said, looking at him. “But what does this have to do with anything?”
“I’ve been racking my brain for the past few days, trying to determine why Pioneer Regiment Thirty-six sounded familiar. And while speaking with Bruno last night, I realized that I knew the regiment by another name.” He faced her. “It was also known as the Disinfection Unit.”
Anna felt like she was punched in the gut. “You must be mistaken.”
“It’s possible, but—”
“Bruno would have told me if he was ordered to perform heinous acts,” she said, interrupting him. Her heart rate spiked. “Did you ask him about it?”
“I did.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said his regiment was in charge of building bunkers.”
She looked at him, his eyes staring straight ahead. Her skin prickled. “You don’t believe him, do you?”
“It’s possible that his unit was building bunkers. There are many pioneer units that construct everything from roads to trenches. But there were things Bruno said that I’m struggling to make sense of.”
Vexation surged through her. She fought away an impulse to get up and leave. “Tell me what is bothering you.”
“First,” Max said, “Bruno began the war in the infantry, but now he’s assigned to artillery.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked. “I would assume that changes in duties often occur in the military, especially at the front.”
“Duties often change, but soldiers, as well as officers, typically remain within the same division.” He rolled his cane between his gloved hands. “Poison gas was first released from cylinders by infantry units at the front lines. But now, most poison gas is delivered by artillery shells.”
Anna hugged her arms. Her head ached. “What else is troubling you?”
“Bruno’s family business is an ink and dye manufacturer, and he commented that his vater obtained military contracts.”
“I assume that you asked Bruno about this,” she said.
Max nodded. “He said that it’s for the colorant of uniforms and military supplies.”
She looked at him, his head slightly tilted. “You don’t believe him, do you?”
“I have some doubts about his story.”
“He’d never lie,” she said, raising her voice.
Nia stood and nuzzled Anna.
“Everything is all right, girl,” Anna said, stroking the dog’s side.
“It sickens me to be talking about this,” Max said.
“I understand how soldiers feel when they are forced to kill by our military. They have no choice, and neither did I when I was on the front. But the ramifications for someone assigned to a chemical warfare unit would be far worse than an ordinary soldier. They’d be horrified and ashamed of their actions, which might be a war crime considering poison gas violates the Hague Convention treaty.
And if one refused to follow a command, he’d suffer dire consequences, including the possibility of being shot.
But I fear that Bruno’s involvement might be deeper than obeying orders. ”
“This is ludicrous,” Anna said.
“I hope it is.” Max paused, taking a few deep breaths. “Do you know how ink and dye is made?”
“Nein.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “But I do know that chemicals are needed to make them. And it takes chemicals to make poison gas.”
Images of gassed hospital patients—their eyes bandaged and lungs wheezing—flashed in her head. Her mouth turned dry.
“Did Bruno attend a university?”
“Ja.”
“What did he study?”
“Chemistry.” Her body trembled. “But science is needed for dye manufacturing. Bruno would never willingly be involved with chemical weapons, and he would have told me if his family manufactured poison gas.”
“Based on my experience at the front,” Max said, “I have misgivings about his stories. I’m afraid that there might be more to Bruno and his family.”
Her head felt dizzy. “I—I can’t listen to any more of this.”
He extended his hand, as if he were attempting to console her.
She stood and backed away from him. “This is mad!”
“I’m so sorry,” Max said. “I pray that my questions are groundless.”
“Please stop!” Tears welled in her eyes.
He nodded, and then placed a hand on Nia. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be here with me. You can go, if you like. Nia and I can find our way home.”
A fusion of panic and denial surged through her. She turned, slipped on a patch of ice, and fell. A sharp pain shot through her hands and knees.
Max sprang from the bench.
“Leave me!” Anna cried.
Max stopped, but Nia padded to her and whimpered.
“I’m all right, girl,” Anna said, hugging Nia. Her tears fell onto the dog’s coat. She stood and then left—refusing to look back.
* * *
For much of the afternoon, Anna walked along the Hunte, a river that flowed northward from Oldenburg, where she thought that she wouldn’t encounter Fleck or any of the other training groups.
Eventually, her legs grew tired and she sat on the frozen shoreline with her head to her knees.
This can’t be happening! There must be a good explanation for everything; Bruno would never lie, and he would have told me if he, or his family, were involved with chemical warfare.
She prayed that Max’s concerns about Bruno would turn out to be untrue.
But she’d grown to trust Max, and his words had shaken her core.
She desperately wanted to go home and confide in Norbie.
But Bruno was likely at the house, given the time of day, and she didn’t want to subject her vater to accusations, even if unfounded, that could taint his feelings about her future husband.
Instead, she decided that she would talk with Bruno alone at their planned rendezvous.
She removed her gloves, unbuttoned the top of her coat, and clasped her mutter’s heart-shaped locket.
Harbor your heart. She repeated her vater’s affirmation over and over in her head, but it did little to diminish the wretched ache beneath her breastbone.
Shortly before sunset, she arrived at a three-story brick boardinghouse located a few streets away from the hospital where she’d worked as a nurse.
Her heartbeat thumped against her rib cage.
She buried her trepidation and entered the front door, where she was met a by a matron, a gaunt woman with gray hair sprouting from under her headscarf.
“I’m here to see Bruno Wahler,” Anna said, sinking her hands into her coat pockets.
The woman pointed with a crooked finger to a stairway. “Third floor. Last room on the left.”
“Danke.”