On Desperate Ground (34 page)

Hans held the Doktor by his arm and guided him. Dieter stayed in front, not letting Kappelen see his face, fearing he might blurt out his name and inadvertently give them up.
 

“Cell 28 next, Prisoner Klein.” The guard led them around the end of the guardroom, to the row of cells on the opposite wall. He selected a key from his chain and worked the lock.

“Get up,” he announced in a bored tone, “you’re being transferred.” He smiled at Hettstedt, guessing that a “special action” at dawn would mean these prisoners would not be coming back.

Elsa had heard the footsteps in the hall and had gotten up to be ready in case they were coming for her. When she heard the word “transfer” she didn’t know what to think. Then the door opened with a clank and the light blinded her. The guard reached in and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her out into the hall.

“Come on, these fellows don’t have all night!”

Dieter stepped back so he was behind the guard. He tilted his helmet back so Elsa could see his face, at the same moment putting his finger to his lips.

Elsa recognized him immediately. She had been thinking of him constantly and his image was burned into her mind. At first she had worried she was hallucinating. But it really was Dieter, he had come for her. She almost fainted, putting her hand out to the wall to steady herself.
 

“Next, Cell 39, Prisoner Anneliese, no last name.” The guard moved down the line of cells.

“Move!” A rough voice yelled and Elsa felt hands push her towards Sister Anneliese’s cell. Dieter’s hands. Tears welled in her eyes and her lower lip began to tremble.

We’re not out of here yet,
she thought to herself.
Hold on
.

Elsa looked around her to see whom Dieter was with. She saw Hans, and knew that Jost must be somewhere nearby. With a shock she saw it was Hettstedt next to Hans! And Colonel Faust with Dieter.
 

Am I dreaming? Have I gone insane?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door to Cell 39 opened and she heard the guard speak to Hettstedt.

“Too late for this one. She’s dead.”

Dieter held Elsa back and looked into the cell. Sister Anneliese was on the floor, her face caked with blood. A bucket of water and a few bloody rags were the only evidence of medical care.

“I heard they beat up her pretty good when they brought her in,” the guard said conversationally to Hettstedt. “Well, you’d know that sir, wouldn’t you? I hope these two will be enough.” He left, heading to the guard station at the entrance of stairs to the courtyard.
 

Dieter let go of Elsa and walked into the cell. Sister Anneliese’s hands were still clasped together, as if she had been praying when she died. They had taken her rosary from her, but twined around her hands was the delicate gold chain and small cross she had worn around her neck. She had obviously used that as a comfort in her last prayers. He heard Elsa sob as Faust took her by the arm and led her away. Dieter knelt and kissed the Sister on her forehead, took the cross and chain from her hand, and walked out the door, too saddened to even feel anger.

Dieter joined the group at the door. Faust barked at him, “You! Take this prisoner! That’s what we brought you for!” He shoved Elsa toward him. He took her by the arm and she had to fight the urge to collapse in his arms.

“Two prisoners, released to
Sturmbannführer
Hettstedt.” Their guard showed the release forms to the final guard at the door to the exit staircase. This one was a
Rottenführer
, a corporal. He was a little older and looked perhaps a little smarter, more alert than the other. He read the release forms carefully and began to fill in his name, date and time.

“Yes,
Sturmbannführer,
I remember these two. I was on the hospital raid with you. You boys new here?” He glanced up at Hans and Dieter.
 

“We’ve only been in Berlin a week,” said Dieter quickly. “Transferred in from the Nordhausen camp.”
 

“So the new boys get to go out in the rain at night, eh?”

“
Rottenführer,
” Hettstedt broke in, “We are in a hurry. Save the enlisted men’s talk for the mess.”

“Yes, sir. Everything is in order. Do you need any assistance with these prisoners?”

“No. We have a truck and men waiting in the courtyard.”

The
Rottenführer
opened the stairwell door and walked up one flight with them. The courtyard door was also locked and he opened that for them, holding the door for the officers as they passed. He glanced at the waiting vehicle. Nothing out of the ordinary. He stood in the doorway for a moment and watched them put the prisoners in the truck. The rain began to blow into the open door and he closed it, walking gratefully back down to the cellblock.

Something nagged at the
Rottenführer.
Something was out of place. He sat down at his table and lit a cigarette. He couldn’t figure it out.
Sturmbannführer
Hettstedt was definitely a pompous ass, but he did his job. That Colonel was a little unusual in the
Hausgefängnis
, but he had been with Hettstedt and must have been part of an SS operation. He couldn’t put his finger on what could be wrong.
 

Must be my imagination,
he thought.

He went back to leafing through the latest copy of the
Volkischer Beobachter
newspaper. There was an item about the Luftwaffe 9
^th
Parachute Division deploying on the northeastern side of Berlin for the defense of the city. There were pictures of the paratroopers in their distinctive smocks and helmets, preparing defenses.

Wait a minute! Those were paratroopers waiting in that truck, not SS men!

At that moment, Jost Brunner was watching a
Kübelwagen
with two military policemen pull up beside his staff car by the front entrance. One of the two
Kettenhunde
climbed out, the driving rain drenching him as he stood by the driver’s window and signaled Jost to roll it down.

“No vehicles are to park here!” He pointed to the lamppost on the curb in front of the staff car. There was a sign prominently posted, a large P in a circle with a red line through it.

“Tell it to the
Sturmbannführer.
He’s inside with my Colonel. Some meeting with the SS bigwigs.” Jost shrugged his shoulders in his best non-com fashion at the ways of officers. It didn’t work.

“No vehicles are to park here! Papers!”

Jost withdrew his identity papers and handed them to the Chain Dog. He looked them over in the beam of his flashlight and tossed them back to Jost, apparently satisfied.

“
Fedelwebel
, you cannot remain here. We must enforce the parking ban in order to keep the roadway clear for emergency vehicles in case of a bombing raid.” Jost began to protest, but the military policeman cut him off. “I know, this isn’t bombing weather, but my
Fedelwebel
will have my head if there are any unauthorized vehicles on the street. Use the car park in the courtyard back there if you want, but you must move.”

Jost knew he couldn’t argue very well about another non-com’s orders to his enlisted men, so he wearily agreed and put the staff car into reverse, and backed up to the drive leading to the courtyard. He could park the car right in the entrance and still keep an eye on the front door.

The
Rottenführer
strode past the guardroom door and banged on it, signaling the men inside to their posts. As he went to the telephone six men spilled out, hooking up their belts and putting on helmets. The looked to their
Rottenführer
for guidance, not knowing if there was an inspection or problems with the prisoners. He was busy on the telephone
.

“Give me the Watch Officer!”
 

There was always an officer on duty in the building through the night, in the communications center, to supervise all activities and report to senior staff officers in the morning. Usually he slept and left the routine matters to the non-commissioned officers. Tonight was no different as the
Rottenführer
could tell from the groggy voice at the other end of the line.

“
Hauptsturmführer
Schaffenburg here.”

“
Rottenführer
Hanke here. Sir, was
Sturmbannführer
Otto Hettstedt scheduled to come in tonight?”

“Hettstedt, Hettstedt.” Hanke could hear papers shuffling. “Yes, Hettstedt. He was supposed to arrive earlier today, actually.
Untersturmführer
Wertholz was supposed to bring him in with several others. They’re overdue now.” Schaffenburg was looking at a copy of the radio message sent by Fegelin. He had been waiting for Wertholz to report in all night.

“Overdue?” Hanke didn’t understand. “Do you mean he was supposed to pick up the prisoners earlier?” Now it was Schaffenburg’s turn to be confused.

“What are you talking about? Hettstedt should be in custody by now. He is to be brought into the
Hausgefängnis
with two other prisoners by Wertholz any moment now.” Hanke suddenly got very nervous.

“Sir, I must report that no one in the guardroom was informed of this.” He swallowed nervously before continuing. “
Sturmbannführer
Hettstedt just left here, taking two prisoners with him.” There was a stunned silence on the other end of the telephone, followed by a yell that made Hanke pull the receiver away from his ear.

“STOP HIM!”

Hanke pointed to the men now milling around him.

“You four, follow me. You others secure the exits. No one is to enter or leave!”

He unlocked the staircase door and bounded up the steps, drawing his pistol. The other men had their rifles with them. He fumbled excitedly with the keys at the exit door and unlocked it, swung it open and stepped out into the courtyard.

As they had emerged from the building, Doktor Kappelen had been unaware who had taken him out. He recognized only Hettstedt, and was certain he would be killed. Weak and nearly delirious, the walk up from the cellar had taxed him severely after the beatings and two days in a cramped cell. His legs gave out and he collapsed, Hans still holding him up by one arm. Faust grabbed the other arm, and called out to the two paratroopers in the rear of the truck to help.

Elsa was in shock, looking up at Dieter in disbelief, then worriedly over to Kappelen. Dieter cautioned her, still gripping her arm tightly.

“Not yet, someone may still be looking.” He had seen the guard close the door after watching them walk across the courtyard, but he didn't yet know if any other curious eyes were upon them. They walked slowly to the back of the truck. Hettstedt stood by while the others lifted Doktor Kappelen’s limp body up into the truck. He looked around nervously, his eyes darting back to the door and to the lighted windows on the top floor.
 

“Hurry up!”

“Don’t lose your grip now, Otto. We’re almost out of danger,” said Faust confidently.

Hans was up on the truck bed, having handed Kappelen off to the medic who laid him out on a pile of blankets on the floor. As he reached out a hand to Elsa to help her he saw the staff car pull into the head of the driveway and brake there.

“What is Jost doing?” he asked to no one in particular. Suddenly the side door they had just come out burst open, light from the staircase spilling out into the courtyard and reflecting off the wet cobblestones. They heard a shouted command and saw a pistol pointed at them and men with rifles crowding behind the
Rottenführer
as he stood outside the doorway.

Jost had been looking back at the activity in the courtyard, wondering if he should back up further and pick up Faust and the others. He couldn’t see them all clearly in the rain, and decided to wait here in case one of them had to exit via the front entrance. He saw the door fly open and guards gathered around it. He jammed the car into reverse and sped backward into the courtyard. The sudden movement from the staff car racing backward toward them startled Hanke. He glanced at it and back at the group around the truck. No one had moved. He hesitated, unsure of what to do next and hoping that idiot
Hauptsturmführer
had alerted the guards at the front entrance.

“Halt! Halt or we shoot!” Hanke shouted.

Dieter saw Hans reach into his coat. He threw Elsa down under the rear gate of the truck and knelt in front of her, pulling his Schmeisser up as he did so. Faust drew his pistol and also went into a crouch.

Hans focused on nothing but the target, bringing his silenced Walther out with his right hand and cupping it in the palm of his left to steady his aim. It was hardly necessary at this distance. As he was bringing the weapon up he had the split second thought that the SS men were fools to be standing in a lighted doorway like that, bunched up and back-lit.
 

The moment Hanke hesitated was his last. There were two muffled sounds from the truck and he fell back, two bullets thumping into his chest. The other guards had no idea what hit him. Hans methodically shot two others before the others reacted. Two rifle shots rang out in the courtyard, echoing off the walls. This was followed by a burst from Dieter’s Schmeisser that flung one guard back. The last guard pulled the door closed as he retreated inside, firing one last shot from his rifle before he withdrew and locked the door behind him, glad to be alive.