Chapter Twenty #2
‘There is a rumour that whole divisions are surrendering. Walter was right, we have lost. It is only a matter of time.’
They continued walking until they could see the hazy form of Bremen in the distance.
Even though it was some way from the sea, it was one of the largest ports in Germany, straddling the long, meandering River Weser, which snaked into the heart of northwest Germany.
Bremen had bustled with trade for thousands of years, thriving as a result, but the very thing that had helped it prosper had also made it a prime target for the Allies.
Once boasting a medieval heritage, in recent years it had become the home of armoured vehicle factories, U-boat yards, oil refineries and a network of railway tracks that provided a lifeline for incoming raw materials and the shipping out of fuel and military hardware.
The port’s role provided work for thousands.
And it was a prime target for area bombing.
The city’s low-lying broken silhouette confirmed the bombardment had been far worse than they had imagined. Only the cathedral tower seemed unbroken, stretching up to the sky above the devastation. Her mother and younger sister were there . . . somewhere.
‘The bombing may have happened before they arrived.’
Sam’s words were meant to comfort her, but this was her home city, where so many happy childhood memories had been nurtured. Now she saw its obliteration, she had multiple layers of shock to unravel and endure.
‘If they are not home,’ he went on, ‘the port must have air raid shelters. You can look for them there.’
Elsa nodded to show she had heard him, but finding them in the chaos seemed an almost insurmountable task.
‘Someone will know where they are,’ she forced herself to answer. ‘I’ll just have to ask people where they might be.’
‘When the British and American soldiers come, they will not harm civilians,’ Sam said. ‘You will be safe, Elsa. You both will.’
Her voice sounded oddly quiet and broken. ‘I would rather the city surrenders to the British and Americans than the Red Army.’ She looked at him and felt the need to reassure him. ‘We’ll be all right. We’ve come this far.’
Sam swallowed hard. She suspected he was finding this harder than he was admitting. They had talked of this parting and had welcomed the end of their desperate journey, but it felt less a moment for celebration than one of commiseration at their impending separation.
She smiled bravely. ‘How will you cross the River Weser?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll find a way.’
They fell silent and returned their gazes to what remained of the city before them. Eventually Elsa voiced what was in her head and in her heart. ‘I should be running towards Bremen. But the truth is, right now, I don’t want to.’
‘You want to put off finding out what has happened to them?’
‘Maybe. Does that make me selfish?’
‘Not as selfish as me.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because if you put it off till tomorrow, then I will stay too and we will have one more night together.’
She stretched out a hand to him. He gladly took it, lifted it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss upon her skin. His gallantry made her smile and momentarily lifted the sombre mood.
‘I don’t want to part today either.’
They stepped into each other’s arms.
‘If I could take you with me to England I—’
‘I know you would.’ She swallowed down her rising emotions. ‘And I wish you could stay with me but—’
‘You know I can’t.’ He looked at the broken city in the distance. ‘If this war had never happened we would never have met.’
She raised her chin and followed his gaze. ‘No, we wouldn’t have, but if this war hadn’t happened there wouldn’t have been so much pain and suffering. Nothing is worth so much death and pain. Nothing.’
He pulled her closer. ‘I’m glad I met you, Elsa. You have been the only good thing to happen to me in this war. Meeting you has given me hope.’
‘Hope?’
‘That after the war our countries can become friends again one day.’
‘Is that what we are? Friends?’
He gently caressed the line of her jaw. ‘You mean so much more to me than that.’ He kissed her, his lips changing from reassurance to hunger beneath her own.
Klara, tugging at their clothes, brought their kiss to an end.
They turned to smile at her, but they remained close, their breaths still able to mingle in the narrow, sacred space between them.
‘Let’s find a place to sleep now, Sam. I don’t want to waste our last night.’
For the first time since they met, they walked away from Bremen and searched the fields and neighbouring forest for a suitable dry place to spend the night.
It was in the forest they found the perfect shelter.
A derelict woodcutters’ cabin, just beyond a bomb-blasted clearing.
It called out to them, offering a refuge as it nestled in the shadows of the remaining tree trunks.
The surrounding damaged tree limbs were beginning to rot — they had not been collected or tidied.
No one came here, not even to scavenge wood for their fires. They could rest here undisturbed.
The evening was warm and, to their relief, the hut was dry inside.
It felt natural to wordlessly peel off their winter layers and spread out their coats on the floor.
Klara curled up in a nest of dry sacking.
Elsa and Sam turned towards each other and lay in each other’s arms. It felt good; it felt right, as natural as the trees growing tall outside, the buds shooting up through the soil and the birds taking flight to feed on the wing.
They imagined that they were alone, and that their appetite for each other was growing with every kiss, touch and stretch.
They imagined curves arching, muscles flexing and languid sighs turning to breathless groans.
They imagined it all and held their breaths, knowing the perfect dream could never become real with Klara in the room.
But it was more than that. Their last night together felt too precious.
Together, they wordlessly found their own paradise .
. . the peace, comfort and trust that could only be found in each other’s arms. The two of them connected in a sleeping embrace, which bathed them in equal measures of contentment and sadness.
They would have no more nights like this again.
The three of them had found their family, one another. Their bond was as strong as any made from blood.
* * *
The morning came all too soon and once again they were back at the same location looking towards the devastated east side of the city of Bremen.
No words seemed adequate. Time had run out on them and by midday they would part ways.
A light breeze teased Elsa’s curls, but she and Klara remained locked against Sam’s body, both unwilling to relinquish the embrace they had immediately sought on arriving there.
Elsa thought of the advancing front line Sam was hoping to cross. The fog and chaos of war would not easily identify an English soldier dressed in civilian clothes among the German population. Would the Allies recognize him as one of their own?
‘Stay safe, Sam. Don’t get yourself killed crossing the front line.’
‘You need to think of yourself, not me.’
He held her tighter, his fear for her safety showing in each taut sinew and muscle. ‘I should stay with you.’
‘And do what? If the British find you hiding among the Germans you might be arrested for desertion or as a traitor. If the German civilians discover you among them they might arrest or kill you as their enemy. We knew the day of returning to our people would come. We can’t put it off any longer.’
They fell silent for a moment.
‘I can’t believe I won’t see your face again,’ said Sam. He stroked Klara’s head. ‘Or this one.’ He kissed the top of her head and inhaled deeply to steal the childlike aroma of her hair so he could retain it within him.
‘Don’t let it happen. You made a promise.’
‘I know. I won’t forget it.’
She looked up at him. ‘I wish I could believe you.’
‘Then believe me,’ he said as he touched her forehead with his own.
Doubtful, she fell silent. He loosened his hold and lifted her face in his hands to force her to look at him. His earnest gaze searched for the centre of her soul . . . and found it. ‘I’ll come back and find you, Elsa.’
‘It won’t be easy if my aunt’s home is gone.’
‘Tell me her address again.’ She did, but they both knew the likelihood of it surviving unscathed was low.
‘I will find you.’
He kissed her then and, in that moment, despite her better judgement and experience of a world torn apart, she truly believed him.
Finally, unwillingly, they stepped apart and silently said their goodbyes with sad smiles. No words seemed adequate now. Klara reluctantly waved as they turned away and walked their separate ways.
Elsa tried to resist turning to look at him for one last time .
. . but failed. His familiar determined gait, which she had come to know so well, was receding southwards and into the morning mist. Every step he took lengthened the distance between them.
She felt a surge of panic that the details of his face were already threatening to fade from her mind.
She battled the urge to run after him. This was how it must end.
Their love was always going to be like an evanescent rainbow at the end of a dark rainy day.
Beautiful, hopeful, but in reality it could never last. It was painful to accept. Too painful.
She stiffly turned, and as tears began to fall, she held Klara’s hand a little tighter and they began their own journey towards Bremen.
She did not look back again; she would not torture herself by watching him go.
Reality had already begun to worm its way back into her thinking.
No one knew what post-war Europe would look like or how Germany would be punished.
How could a promise be kept that he would return in such an uncertain new world?
He had not realized, during their heartbreaking farewell, that she had not asked for his address.
If there was a future for them, she had decided, the opportunity had to come from him.
She wanted him to feel no pressure, no obligation to rescue them from a desolate Germany.
She did not want him to see any correspondence as a pleading letter of rescue.
If, after he returned to England and settled back into a new life, he still wanted her, he would return and she would be waiting for him with open arms.