The German soldiers on the bus had been into the food supplies, but the Obergefreiter — his name was Hoffman — had put a stop to it once he had seen how Bjorn and the nurses had cared for his men. Now he lit the stub of a cigarette and stood near Bjorn as they watched a nurse change a soldier’s bandage.
Two young soldiers, Hans and Fritz, climbed on the bus and gestured to Hoffman to come with them.
“We are having engine problems with our staff car,” Hoffman said. “Do you have a mechanic among your prisoners?”
“I don’t know about the prisoners,” Bjorn said, “but our driver might be able to help.”
Hoffman left the bus, followed by Bjorn who called to Anders sitting on the grass nearby.
“Anders, find the driver and ask him to take a look at their car. They are having a problem with the engine.”
Anders stood up and went looking for the driver as young Hans sat down near Bjorn.
“I am sorry for your troubles, Herr Doktor,” Hans said.
“It’s not so bad,” Bjorn shrugged, careful not to say too much.
“You took a wrong turn. You should have gone east.”
“Where are we?”
“The French First Army is about ten kilometres to the west. Tomorrow we go east.”
As the dawn light came up, Wanda started a small fire to make coffee for her compatriots. In the tall grass, Bjorn, Anders and the Swedish driver were fast asleep in their coats against the morning chill. The other prisoners were spread out in the grass, wrapped in woollen Red Cross blankets.
On the bus, the German wounded were still sound asleep, along with Obergefreiter Hoffmann and several able-bodied soldiers. Wanda was boiling water for the coffee, when suddenly out of nowhere the road was buzzed by an Allied fighter plane whose job was to clear the front for a French attack.
Wanda hit the ground as the plane strafed the bus and the staff car with 50-calibre bullets and then pulled up, heading away to the north. Bjorn and Anders ran towards the bus. The German soldiers were dead where they lay with their blood sprayed over the seats. Hoffmann was unconscious after a bullet had grazed his head. The entire roof was perforated with bullet holes.
“Let’s move the dead outside. We need to help the Obergefreiter,” Bjorn said.
Hans and Fritz, who had slept in the tall grass with the Swedes, entered the bus to look for their comrades.
“Hilf mir, bitte,” Bjorn said to Hans, who was looking at his commanding officer and crying.
“Herr Obergefreiter, don’t die.”
“We will look after him,” Bjorn told the distraught young man. “Please help us move the bodies.”
Wanda appeared with a nurse after Hans and Fritz started to carry out the dead. They examined Hoffmann’s head wound, which was bleeding profusely, and applied a disinfectant before wrapping his head in gauze.
Suddenly, Hoffmann jerked awake and struggled to stand up. He got to his feet and grabbed his Schmeisser machine gun before running off the bus. Once outside, he looked up at the blue sky and remembered the Allied attack. He glanced in astonishment at the Swedish prisoners sitting quietly on the grass while Hans and Fritz laid a dead soldier down away from the group. In a wild fury, he pointed his gun at the prisoners.
“Tod allen Verrätern!” he screamed at the prisoners, calling them traitors who should be punished by death. Then, he fired off several shots with the Schmeisser into the air.
Bjorn called to the crazy man waving his gun around.
“Herr Obergefreiter, it was an Allied fighter plane,” Bjorn said. “It just happened. We are not responsible.”
“You’re lying. Your men signalled to the plane. You planned to kill me and my men.”
Wanda stepped off the bus with a nurse and moved away into the tall grass.
“Herr Doktor, you gave us the bus and then you signalled to the Allies,” Hoffmann said. "You are coming with me."
Hoffmann grabbed Bjorn and, before he could protest, slammed him in the face with the Schmeisser bloodying his nose. He hauled the doctor away.
“Er ist kein Verräter,” Wanda protested in a loud voice. “He’s not a traitor, he’s a doctor who saves lives.”
“Kommen Sie hier, bitte,” Hoffmann signalled to Hans and Fritz to follow him. The young soldiers picked up their guns and followed their superior officer some fifty yards away from the group. Hoffmann ordered Bjorn to kneel.
“Auf die Knie!”
The Obergefreiter gave Hans his Luger pistol as the doctor went down on his knees.
“Schießen. That is an order.”
The boy’s arm trembled as he pointed the gun at the doctor’s head.
“Schießen,” Hoffmann yelled.
Wanda ran towards the soldiers.
“Nicht Schießen, bitte, nicht Schießen,” she yelled.
Hans broke down in tears and dropped the pistol. Hoffmann picked it up and was about to fire the gun into the back of Bjorn’s head when Rolf appeared behind him with a Schmeisser machine gun. He didn’t hesitate for a moment. He emptied the clip at the mad Obergefreiter whose body was ripped apart.
“Der Scheisskerl, Nazi bastard,” Rolf whispered.
Fritz dropped his gun as Hans cried out.
“I’m hit. Don’t shoot, please,” he said, trembling with fear. His lower arm was bloody, hit by a stray bullet.
Wanda rushed over to embrace Bjorn as Anders arrived on the scene. They looked down at the dead Obergefreiter.
“Thank you, Rolf,” Bjorn said as Wanda helped him to his feet. She had to support the doctor as his legs were shaking and he couldn’t walk.
“Rolf, you saved Bjorn,” Anders exclaimed. “You saved us all.”
Bjorn and Wanda returned to the bus as Anders took the Schmeisser away from Rolf.
“Where did you learn to shoot?” Anders asked Rolf.
“Swedish military service.”
“You did very well. He was going to kill Bjorn.”
The prisoners and nurses gathered around Rolf, embracing him. Bjorn sat silently on the grass, still shaken by his near execution. Wanda returned to examine Hans’ bloody arm.
“The bullet went right through,” she said, “missing the bone. Can you move your fingers?”
“Yes, I can move them.”
“You’re lucky, young man. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I didn’t want to kill the doctor,” Hans said in a quiet voice. “The Obergefreiter was crazy,” Fritz added.
“Patch him up, Wanda,” Bjorn said, “and then let’s get some food going.”
The nurses and volunteers climbed back into the empty bus and hauled the remains of the food into the tall grass to make breakfast. Wanda and a nurse looked after Hans’ arm as the driver slipped under the engine looking for leaks in the gas line. He soon reappeared and gave Bjorn a thumbs-up. The doctor stood up and spoke to the group.
“Good morning to you all. We are taking the bus back. We are going to continue with our mission and take everyone north. We will provide food for all of you. Everyone must eat something and then we will be on our way in one hour.”