War Criminal's Widow by Ellie Midwood

Author:Ellie Midwood [Midwood, Ellie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I was chewing on the canned food Misha gave me with such an appetite as if I hadn’t eaten in days, which was not too far from truth. After they took Heinrich downstairs to let the doctors operate on his wound in the improvised hospital they had arranged down the street, Misha and two other soldiers took apart the barricade so I could come down the stairs.

But before I could do that, one of them stretched his hand in front of him, stopping me and pointed at my earrings, indicating that he wanted them. I took them off and placed them on his open palm; he demanded my engagement diamond ring as well, leaving my plain silver wedding band though. It wasn’t valuable to him because of the SS runes on it. The other one took my watch and even took pains to check my neck to see if I had any necklaces on it. I didn’t, and he barked some curse at me as I figured out from his intonation.

Misha was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another and tried to object something to his comrades, but they growled at him something that made him lower his eyes and shake his head violently. I guessed that they accused him in protecting the ‘Nazi bitch’ or something like that, because he hadn’t said a word since. They were older than him too and higher in rank as I thought, because he kept replying to them in a manner that a subordinate would. I kept quiet, so as not to get myself, or the only one good Russian I’d met, in trouble.

Finishing my meal in record short time under Misha’s amused stare, I was thinking how lucky I was that losing my jewelry was the worst thing that had happened to me so far. Nobody beat me up, nobody shot me, and the most important, nobody tried to rape me (even if that couple, who robbed me, had such a thought, they quite obviously grimaced at the sight of my huge belly and decided against it).

Heinrich was next to me again, after the red-faced commissar told Misha to take me to his ‘headquarters’ in one of the former apartments, where the two soldiers later brought my still unconscious, but at least treated by qualified medics, husband. Misha said something reassuring in Russian, pointing with his eyes at Heinrich and then, after a moment’s thought, offered me his flask.

“Vodka?” I scrunched my nose even though I didn’t smell any alcohol.

“Net…” Misha seemed a little confused. “No… Voda. Water.”

I smiled embarrassingly and gladly accepted the offer.

“No vodka. Vodka no good.” He made a face showing his attitude to the alcohol. I laughed; after I heard that I was sure that he wasn’t Russian, in the full sense of that word at least.

“Jewish?” I voiced my guess, pointing at him after returning his flask and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Net.” He shook his head, but a little bit hesitantly, and threw a quick glance at the door.

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