Return to Berlin by Ellen Feldman

Return to Berlin by Ellen Feldman

Author:Ellen Feldman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Australia
Published: 2021-09-15T00:00:00+00:00


* * *

David knew what was up the minute he came out of the barracks and saw the bus with the blacked-out windows. According to scuttlebutt, close to half a million German POWs were imprisoned on American soil. Some of them worked on farms and in factories to compensate for the manpower shortage now that so many men were fighting overseas. Occasionally a handful of them were trucked into the camp to be interrogated. The Army wasn’t looking for information. The prisoners had been questioned as soon as they’d been captured. Now they were merely useful as guinea pigs for training.

David was third in line for a practice session that morning. “How’d it go?” he asked when Sam came out of the room where he’d grilled a prisoner under Krantz’s eye.

“I blew it.”

“How?”

“When I told the prisoner to sit, he pulled the old I’m-a-German-officer-and-prefer-to-stand gambit. But according to his record, he’d been busted up pretty bad when he was captured, so I said, suit yourself, but since you got that wound saving another man, it seems to me you’ve earned a seat. You could see the wheels spinning in his tiny Kraut brain. Was I pulling his wounded leg or did I really think he was a hero. I said his comrade had told us how he’d saved his life. He sat in the chair. I offered him a cigarette. He looked like he wanted to kiss me. Krantz could barely wait till the session was over to tell me if I ever did that again, he’d bust my ass out of here so fast my head would spin. I said no cigarettes, he howled. I told him I thought he meant before the interrogation. No means no. I was sure he was going to blow a gasket.”

“Do me a favor,” David said. “Hang on to these while I’m in there.” He held out a pack of Lucky Strikes. “I’m not taking any chances on reaching for them out of habit.”

Sam laughed, but he took the cigarettes.

David’s interrogation went well enough, at first. He didn’t shout or bully, but he did remain distant and correct, almost disdainful. Nonetheless, he managed to pick up on the prisoner’s sullenness. This wasn’t an arrogant Wehrmacht soldier; this was a disgruntled boy. He opened the prisoner’s folder and pretended to study it again. Finally he closed it and looked up.

“You were with the KG 76.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. We know these things. Fine unit.”

The prisoner didn’t answer.

“Hogg is a good commander.”

The prisoner shifted in his seat.

“You must be proud of serving in that unit under him.”

The prisoner’s mouth curled in disdain, but he said nothing.

“What I don’t understand is why a man with your record is still a corporal. How come you weren’t promoted long ago?”

Still no answer, but another shift of position.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Hogg is Prussian and you’re Bavarian?”

The man looked at David, then away, but his mouth twitched as if he was fighting to keep the words from spilling out.



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