A Time for Defiance by James D. Shipman

Author:James D. Shipman [Shipman, James D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2024-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Ontkenning

Monday, June 7, 1943

12:48 p.m.

Eindhoven, Netherlands

The sun peered through the windows of Major Geier’s corner office. Otto waited for his friend to return from lunch. He sat rigid as a statue in his chair, preparing for the coming conversation.

“Ah, Otto!” Fritz entered with a grin on his face, the door slamming shut behind him. “I have news. Corporal Hemmel has gone missing. It seems he didn’t take his demotion too well.” He chuckled as he slumped down into his chair.

“Missing?” Otto furrowed his brow, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Indeed,” Fritz agreed, still smiling. “But don’t worry. He’ll show up again in a few days, after he’s drowned his sorrows in schnapps and Dutch skirt. I’ll be understanding, although he is absent without leave.”

Otto hesitated as all the promises and opportunities hung over him still. He had but to reach out and grab them: promotion, security, safety. He thought of Aafke, her blue eyes filled with defiance and resilience, and how she had spurned him. No, he had nothing here now. His unit needed him, and there was no reason to stay in Eindhoven. Taking a deep breath, he made his decision.

“I’ve thought long and hard about your offer, my friend. I appreciate it, Fritz, but I must decline,” Otto said firmly. “My unit needs me, and I cannot abandon them.”

The major’s smile faltered, his dark eyes narrowing. “Are you sure about this, Otto? Think about what I’m offering you.”

“Thank you, but I’ve given it much thought,” Otto responded, his voice unwavering. Inwardly, he wrestled with the emotions that threatened to consume him: loyalty to his comrades, the desire to protect Aafke, and the growing disillusionment with the Nazi regime. He could not bend to the role of oppressor.

“I don’t think you understand, Otto,” he said, his voice low and intent. “I went out of my way to secure this position for you. You owe me.”

Otto shifted uncomfortably, remembering the trial that had nearly cost him his life early in the war. Fritz had been there, using his influence to save him from an unjust fate. He owed him, yes, but at what cost?

“Remember when I saved your life?” Fritz pressed, his gaze unyielding.

Otto’s jaw tightened. “I haven’t forgotten, Fritz,” he said, his voice strained. “But that doesn’t mean I can ignore what’s happening around us.”

Fritz scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re too sensitive, Otto. We’re keeping these citizens safe from terrorists”—he leaned in, lowering his voice—“and other undesirable elements.”

“Other undesirable elements?” Otto asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder would shatter the fragile balance between them.

Fritz leaned back in his chair, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Eindhoven is now officially Jew-free, Otto,” he said, enunciating each word carefully, as if tasting their bitterness. “We’ve rounded up all the Jews and sent them to labor camps in the east.”

Otto felt a chill run down his spine, his breath catching in his throat. “You can’t be serious,” he stammered, struggling to keep his composure. “We grew up with Jewish families, we played soccer with them, attended the academy together.

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