All We Left Behind by Danielle R. Graham

Author:Danielle R. Graham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2019-12-05T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

‘Goon up,’ Harold hollered as the barrack door swung open. The guard stepped in and gestured with the barrel of his Gewehr to make us fall in line. He led us across the compound to the latrine and motioned for us to disrobe. The outfit Inga had given me hung off my frame like I was a boy dressed in my father’s clothes. I had no way to know how much weight I had lost because there was no scale or mirror, but I was definitely faring more poorly than the others. My bunkmates didn’t seem to mind the conditions all that much. They behaved as if it was no different than being at Boy Scout camp with a gang of friends. Most of them even preferred being a POW to fighting, and at first I did too, but the novelty wore off quickly for me because I had no purpose to wake up to in the morning. Laundry day was one thing I did look forward to, so I eagerly dropped my trousers and removed my shirt. Although they allowed us a short communal shower once a week, they only permitted us to wash our clothes once every month, and I detested being filthy like a beggar.

The guard shouted at us to hurry up, so I scrubbed my trousers, shirt and undergarments clean and wrung them out. Then I ran back through the foggy mist in the buff to hang them to dry from the rafter in the barrack.

It’s possible that another reason I struggled as a prisoner more than the other POWs was because, although I had made efforts to outgrow my adolescent petulance and stubbornness, I still hated being ordered around and told what I could and could not do by someone I didn’t respect. I hated not being in control of my own life. And not knowing anything was the worst. Would I ever see Chidori or my family again? There was a possibility they weren’t even aware I was alive. How was the war going? Would I suffer through all the hardships only to die of starvation or be killed by the Third Reich?

Not that anyone was, but I really wasn’t cut out for incarceration. I had to constantly remind myself that the conditions could have certainly been worse. I was alive, which meant one day I would be free to go home to Chidori. That’s all that mattered.

‘Come on, Hayden. Shake a leg! The Red Cross packages and the post finally arrived,’ Arnold hollered from outside.

My clothes were still damp so, naked except for my boots, I wrapped my blanket around my shoulders and followed him to an area in the yard where a bunch of fellows tore open wooden crates filled with milk powder, corned beef, sardines, prunes, salt, tea, clothing items for the cold weather, medical supplies and toiletries. The YMCA also sent packages that arrived at the same time. I flipped through a couple of new books. One was a book of poetry by Robert Frost.

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