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Authors: Mary Nichols

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BOOK: The Farmer's Daughter
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‘Not to me. To me you are sunshine and smiles and kindness …'

‘Oh, Karl, stop.' She was trying to smile through the tears that came unbidden to her eyes, but not quite succeeding.

‘Why? Do you not like to hear compliments?'

‘Of course I do, but it is not fitting.'

‘I do not understand “fitting”.'

‘Oh, yes you do. You understand everything.'

‘I wish I did.'

‘What don't you understand?'

‘It does not matter. No doubt all will become clear in time.'

‘You are being very mysterious.'

He forced a laugh. ‘Forget it, Jean. I sometimes feel low. We had better get on with this milking or we will not have it done before my transport arrives.'

They left the waders in the barn and fetched in the cows. She settled herself on a stool at the side of one of them, feeling very unsettled. There had been several enigmatic conversations with Karl lately, as if he were trying to tell her something but was unsure whether he should. Perhaps he was right not to. She was tempted to take the initiative, but maybe the least said the better.

 

Hans Schmidt somehow infused a new enthusiasm for escape among the prisoners. When told that no one had yet got off the island, he cited instances of how some had almost succeeded and would have done if they hadn't had bad luck. There was a tale of a group of escapees who had stowed away on an Allied landing craft on the south coast and taken it over after setting sail, only to be sunk by the German shore batteries on the French coast. And another stole a motor boat but was caught while he was trying to start it. ‘One of our airmen stole a Spitfire and would have made it if he hadn't been shot down by our own anti-aircraft guns over the Dutch coast,' he told them. They were talking in what was supposed to be a lecture on the threat posed by Russia which had done nothing to cheer Karl up; he didn't know why he had bothered to attend. They had abandoned it when Hans had interrupted the lecturer to deliver his own homily.

‘Myths,' Karl said. ‘Fairy stories.'

‘No, they are not. With care and proper preparation, it is possible.' He turned to the rows of men who had come to hear a lecture on communism and were instead being harangued about escape. ‘Even if we do not succeed we can cause the
Engländern
a lot of trouble while we are loose.' He smiled at those around him,
some very young, others old soldiers who knew all the dodges and had survived. Some were like himself, strong, fit, patriotic young men. ‘Do you know there are a quarter of a million of us in camps all over the British Isles and we're being guarded by middle-aged Tommies too old to fight. Every able-bodied soldier has been sent to France where the generals are scraping the bottom of the barrel to find replacements for the men they have lost. Arnhem was a great victory for us, it has set the enemy back months, years, perhaps for ever.

‘The Allies are not winning this war, my friends, not by a long way. Our beloved Führer has more tricks up his sleeve and we must play our part. We are not here to sit on our backsides wiling away our time while others do the work.' He paused to let his words sink in, then added, ‘I want ten volunteers.'

There was a rush to take him up on that and he chose ten men to meet him in the latrines afterwards to discuss what needed to be done, among them was Otto Herzig.

‘Why didn't you volunteer?' Otto asked Karl when they met up again later.

Karl shrugged. ‘Didn't fancy it. What did he want you to do?'

‘Escape, of course.'

‘Is that all?'

‘No. We have been given special tasks and after we have done those we have to allow ourselves to be recaptured, so we can bring the information back.'

‘And get yourselves thrown into the
Kühler
for your trouble, not to mention loss of privileges. You tried it once before, remember?'

‘I'm not likely to forget it, but I have a duty to the Fatherland, as have you, my friend.
Feldwebel
Schmidt is very disappointed in you.'

‘I want to end this war in one piece and the sooner the better.'

‘I called you a coward once before, don't make me denounce you again.'

Karl shrugged, pretending it was of no consequence, but he did not fancy another beating. ‘You know I am not a coward, Otto. We simply see things differently.'

‘You know,' Otto said, searching his face. ‘I think the
Fräulein
has got you in her claws. If you do not struggle to free yourself, she will eat you.'

‘Don't be ridiculous. And why did you tell Schmidt about her?'

‘I thought he ought to know. She might be useful if you play your cards right.'

‘I can't see how. After your botched attempt last time, everyone is being doubly cautious about revealing anything, or leaving valuables about.' This was not strictly true.

Otto shrugged. ‘We'll see.'

Later Hans came himself to talk to Karl and what he told him worried him more than ever. ‘I am glad you were not one of the volunteers,' he said. ‘I need you at that farm, trusted by your hosts. When the time comes, you will be told what to do.'

‘When will that be?'

‘I don't know yet. Not long. In the meantime, keep your eyes and ears open.'

It was happening again, this thirst for information which had put him in jeopardy once before. Otto had put an end to it the last time by being caught, but he had a feeling that Gerhard Richter was cleverer than that. It crossed his mind to warn the commandant that something was afoot, but he was not a traitor and he could not do it, so he went about his work and said nothing.

 

Roll call the next morning revealed ten men missing. While the remaining men were still gathered in the compound, a huge
search was conducted for the missing prisoners. All the huts were turned inside out but revealed nothing. Guards searching the perimeter reported the wire had been cut. The lorry that usually took the men on work parties came and went away empty. Karl was glad they had finished the threshing; Jean would not have been able to load the sacks of grain without his help.

He stood about with the other men discussing this latest development. Few realised its significance beyond a wish to be free; to them it was something to cheer about and they baited the guards with catcalls as they tried to keep them in order. Karl stood a little apart until Gerhard Richter came and stood beside him.

‘Now we shall see how good the English are at rounding up prisoners,' he said, ‘and how good their security is on the army and air force bases.'

‘Then what?'

Hans tapped his nose. ‘I will tell you when you need to know. You will be given a chance to avenge your brother's death.'

‘You knew he had died?'

‘I was with him. He was a brave man. We should have walked across Poland without any trouble but it was harder than we thought it would be; the Poles put up a spirited resistance once they had got over the shock. Wilhelm fought like a lion. A sniper got him from the roof of a building in Warsaw.'

‘Warsaw has fallen to the Russians.'

‘I know. It is of no consequence. They will get no further.'

‘I hope you are right. My home is not far from the border.'

Hans slapped him on the back. ‘You will go back there in triumph, my friend. Have faith.'

 

Colonel Williamson lost no time in putting the escape procedure into practice. He telephoned the commanding officer of the nearest army base, then Constable Worth, who alerted his superiors in Wisbech, then Sir Edward Masterson, who had commanded the local Home Guard. They had been disbanded, but Sir Edward called them out anyway, pulling many of them off the farms and leaving the women to lock themselves in their homes. The men in the army camp set off in trucks and jeeps armed with rifles and grenades, set up roadblocks and checked everyone's identity card. Guards were stationed at the nearest ports – King's Lynn, Great Yarmouth and Lowestoft – though few thought the escapees would get that far.

The inhabitants of Little Bushey were agog and apprehensive at the same time as Constable Worth pedalled round on his bicycle warning everyone to be on their guard.

‘I said this would happen,' Bill told his mother, after the constable had left. ‘Stay indoors and lock the door after me.'

‘You're never going to leave me here alone?' She was trembling, convinced she was about to be murdered. She, along with everyone else, knew the ordeal Elizabeth Sanderson had gone through when one of the prisoners had tried to escape before.

‘I'll take you over to the Colemans', if you like. I'm sure they'll let you stay with them until it's all over.'

They heard the sound of gunfire as he spoke, making her cringe. ‘Is it safe to go?'

‘Course it is. They aren't firing at us. Put on a warm coat, it's cold out and bring your knitting. It will help take your mind off it.'

He drove her to Briar Rose Farm in the Austin, for which, as a farmer, he had a petrol ration. Doris made her welcome. ‘It's a bad do,' she said, addressing Bill. ‘Do you know how many got out?'

‘No, but best stay inside and keep the windows and doors locked until we know it's safe.'

‘Don't be silly; I've got work to do,' Jean said. ‘And without Karl …'

‘What about your precious Karl? Is he on the loose? Will he come here and try to force you to help him?'

‘No, of course he won't.'

‘You've got more faith in him than I have. If I see him, he'll know about it.' He lifted his shotgun. ‘Then perhaps you will come to your senses and not be so gullible. I'm off to see what's going on.'

‘Oh, do take care,' his mother cried as he made for the door.

On the way to the village, he saw soldiers from the barracks, rifles at the ready, combing the woods and ditches and walking in line across the ploughed fields. He found Sir Edward patrolling the village with his men, some of whom had been sent to the railway station to make sure none of the prisoners boarded a train. ‘How many are out?' he asked.

‘Don't know. A lot, I should think by all the fuss.'

‘Any sign of them?'

‘Not yet, but we'll get them, never fear.'

 

One by one the escaped prisoners were recaptured. Hartmann was caught on the airfield snooping round the aircraft; two more were arrested wandering round the perimeter of the army camp, others were arrested at the bus station in Wisbech and the rest scattered about the countryside. Otto, who knew his way around the area more than the others and had more information to add to the map he already had, walked back to the camp and gave himself up, much to the astonishment of Colonel Williamson.

It was not the only thing that puzzled the commandant.
None of the prisoners had made any real attempt to leave the area. He sent all the recaptured men to the cooler and decided to work on Otto Herzig. It was a waste of time, the man simply said he felt like a day out and he had done nothing but wander round and enjoy his freedom. He had never intended to stay out all night. ‘It's too cold at this time of the year,' he said. ‘And I was hungry.'

The colonel discovered it was the same in other camps, all over the country, particularly in the south-west and the Midlands; groups of prisoners were breaking out and then allowing themselves to be recaptured, offering only a token resistance or none at all. Something was definitely afoot, but what it was he could only guess at. He thought he ought to keep all the men confined to camp but that would be hard on the ‘whites', whose only ambition was to wait out the war and earn a little to buy a few necessities in the camp shop. Besides, it would alert the troublemakers that they were being watched. He managed to implant a few more microphones in the huts and let the camp routine go on as normal. A week after the breakout, Karl went back to work at the farm.

He staggered out to the transport, carrying a wooden sled on which was balanced a small doll's house and a wooden box. ‘What's all that in aid of?' Corporal Donnington asked him as he put it on the tailboard and pushed it further into the lorry.

He did not answer; sometimes it paid to pretend not to understand English. But that didn't stop his compatriots asking the same question. ‘Making a little money on the side,' he told them, unwilling to admit he was giving the enemy gifts.

Jean was equally curious when he climbed down and reached inside to extract his handiwork. ‘I made them for the children for Christmas,' he told her. ‘Where shall I put them?'

‘That is kind of you. Let's put them in the barn for now.' She led the way and took them from him to stack in the corner and cover them with a couple of sacks. ‘They are beautifully made,' she said. ‘How clever you are, but it's a little early for Christmas.'

‘Yes, but I had nowhere to store them and they might have been damaged.'

‘What happened up at the camp? Did those men really think they could escape all the way back to Germany?'

‘I don't know,' he said guardedly. ‘It was unrealistic if they did. They were all retaken inside twenty-four hours.'

‘It frightened everyone in the village. Bill brought Mrs Howson to stay with us while he joined the hunt. You didn't come to work and I was afraid you might be one of them and you'd be hurt. There were soldiers with guns all over the place.'

‘The rest of us were confined to camp. I could not let you know.'

‘I'm glad you did not take part, Karl. I know you are anxious to go home and I can understand that, but the war is nearly over and you will soon be going home a free man. There is no need to escape.'

He gave a twisted smile. ‘Would it were that easy.'

‘Why do you say that?'

He paused, debating what to tell her. ‘There will be chaos. And I do not know if my home is there any more. The Russians are getting closer all the time. I know my father, he will not give up his farm without a fight and
Mutti
will never leave him. Besides, where would they flee to? The Tommies and the Amis are already on German soil. As for Heidi …' He stopped in mid-sentence.

BOOK: The Farmer's Daughter
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