A Man Without Breath

So I put a note under Von Gersdorff’s door telling him to knock me up the minute he arrived back in Krasny Bor.

Then I went to bed.

CHAPTER 13

Sunday, May 2nd 1943

I was awoken by a banging on my door, which was louder than seemed reasonable even for a man who might have spent the whole evening drinking with the commander of the town garrison. I switched on the light, and still wearing my pyjamas I swung out of bed, took a step toward the door – it wasn’t a very big hut – and opened it. Instead of Colonel von Gersdorff there were three soldiers – a corporal and two privates – standing outside. They were carrying machine pistols and from their expressions they looked like they meant to do a lot more than draw my attention to a blue moon.

‘Captain Gunther?’ said the corporal in charge.

I glanced at my watch. ‘It’s two a.m.,’ I said. ‘Don’t you people ever sleep? Get out of here.’

‘Come with us please, sir. You’re under arrest.’

My yawn turned to surprise. ‘What the hell for?’

‘Just come with us please, sir.’

‘On whose orders am I being arrested? What’s the charge?’

‘Please do as you’re told, sir. We haven’t got all night.’

I paused for a moment and considered my options, which didn’t take that long after I noticed that one of the privates had his finger on the trigger of his MP40. Like a lot of soldiers in that part of the world, he looked like he was itching to shoot someone.

‘Can I put on some clothes or is this strictly come as you are?’

‘My orders are that you’re to come with us immediately, sir.’

‘All right. If that’s the way you want it.’

I picked up my greatcoat and was about to put it on when the corporal took it away from me and started to search the pockets, which was when I remembered the Walther that was there, only he got there first.

‘Funny guy, huh?’

I felt myself grin sheepishly. ‘I was about to mention that, corporal.’

‘Sure you were,’ said the corporal. ‘When it was in your hand maybe and pointed at my gut. I don’t like that you were trying to bring a gun along on my arrest detail.’ He took a step nearer – near enough for me to smell the sweat on his shirt and the dinner on his breath. ‘You know, in my book, that counts as resisting arrest.’

‘No, corporal, I was just putting on my coat. It’s late and I forgot the gun was in the pocket.’

‘Like hell you did,’ said the corporal.

‘We don’t like people resisting arrest,’ said the soldier with the itchy trigger finger.

‘Really, I’m not resisting arrest,’ I said. ‘The gun was an oversight.’

‘They all say that,’ said the corporal.

‘They? Who’s they? You sound like you arrest people all the time, when it’s plain you haven’t the least fucking clue what you’re doing. Now give me my coat back and let’s go wherever it is we’re going so we can get this nonsense cleared up.’

He handed me back my greatcoat, and putting it on I followed them outside. They marched me not to the mess, or to the adjutant’s office – or even to the field marshal’s quarters – but to a waiting bucket wagon.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Get in. You’ll find out soon enough.’

‘Although clearly that’s not the case,’ I said, getting into the back seat, ‘since soon enough would be right now.’

‘Why don’t you shut up, sir?’ the corporal said and climbed into the wagon.

‘Sir. I like that. It’s funny how respectful people sound when they’re just aching to bang you over the head.’

He didn’t contradict me, so I kept quiet for a few minutes, but it didn’t last long. Not after we drove out of the main gate and towards the city. I was liking my situation less and less. The farther away from Krasny Bor we got the longer it was going to take to have a senior officer solve my predicament; and not just that: I was easier to kill, too. I knew what these men were capable of. In spite of the very best efforts of people like Judge Goldsche, the Wehrmacht was as cruel and indifferent to human life and suffering as our enemy. On the first days of Barbarossa, I’d seen soldiers on the road into Russia machine-gunning civilians for the sheer hell of it.

‘Look,’ I said, ‘if this is something to do with that damned Russian fool Dyakov, then I’d count it as a favour if you would go and find Colonel von Gersdorff – from the Abwehr? – and inform him of my situation. He’ll vouch for me. So will Lieutenant Voss of the field police.’

None of them said a word – they just stared straight ahead at the deserted country road as if I didn’t exist.

‘You know I’d count it an even bigger favour if you would take that MP40 out of my ear. If we hit a bump in the road I might end up with a serious hearing problem.’

‘I think you’ve already got a hearing problem,’ insisted the corporal. ‘Didn’t you hear me telling you to shut up?’