Chapter Twenty
THE GERMAN SOLDIER on guard outside the isolated sickroom saluted at the approach of an officer with one arm. Major Kirsten returned the salute, the soldier opened the door for him, and he went in. The patient looked up from his bed in which he lay on his back. Major Kirsten regarded him with a great deal of interest. He saw a man whose eyes were steady and whose mouth was firm. The patient, a little drawn, eyed his visitor with curiosity. He saw the empty left sleeve. He gave Major Kirsten a slight smile.
‘Good afternoon, Captain Marsh,’ said the major in English. He had not wanted this commission. It was one he disliked. But he had, by silent assent, promised General von Feldermann he would do what he could. ‘May I enquire after your health?’
‘You may. You’re Major Kirsten.’
‘I am.’
‘I thought so.’ Again a slight smile. ‘My health? Improving, I think.’
‘You should be dead, of course,’ said Major Kirsten evenly.
‘Have I disappointed anyone?’ asked Captain Marsh. It had been three weeks since the incident.
‘No. You have annoyed a few, however. I congratulate you on your resilience, but you’re in serious trouble. Do you realize that?’
‘What’s going to happen?’ asked Captain Marsh.
‘Yes, there you have it,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘But I’m here to point the way to the best possible conclusion. A prisoner-of-war camp. However, I’d first like to know how you managed to be so elusive when you must have found your hostage a most awkward burden.’
Captain Marsh reflected. The request was aimed, of course, at Sophia’s possible complicity and its extent.
‘You’ll understand,’ he said, ‘that having seen me hold up two of your soldiers, Miss von Feldermann knew I would use my revolver. Not on her, naturally, but on anyone who stood in my way, German or otherwise. She did not want to be responsible for someone getting a bullet. By not doing what I wanted her to, she would have felt responsible. She’s a compassionate young lady. I’m sorry, of course, about all the inconvenience I put her to.’
‘Are you?’ Major Kirsten raised an eyebrow. ‘Why did you need to keep her with you, except to use as a hostage? Since I imagine you know that would earn you the death penalty, I presume you’ll deny you took her as a hostage. Why, after you abandoned the car, didn’t you simply tie her up and leave her?’
‘No rope,’ said Captain Marsh, ‘and I thought there was always a good chance of getting hold of another car.’
‘Mine, as it turned out.’
‘So sorry,’ said Captain Marsh. ‘Not that I was able to drive myself. I dislocated one finger and broke another when I crash-landed. Miss von Feldermann is a very good driver, and you’ll appreciate, I know, the advantage of using a car instead of one’s legs.’
Major Kirsten looked sceptical. The man, obviously, meant to protect Sophia against the slightest suspicion of collaboration.
‘I must advise you that you’ve a difficult case to answer, Captain Marsh, and Miss von Feldermann an awkward one. I’m going to assume you have some respect for her, and would prefer the matter to be resolved in the simplest and quietest way. An inquiry leading to your being tried in a criminal court would mean the appearance of Miss von Feldermann on both occasions. You would have to explain your every action, and how you kept her under duress for the purposes of making your escape. She would have to explain all her own actions. She would be asked why she apparently made no attempt to get away from you. You spent a few hours in an inn at Lutargne with her, where the proprietor asked no questions of either of you, or so he said, and she made no protest to him or his family. Some people would feel that extraordinary.’
‘Let some people declare if they’d call for help or make any protests in a situation where a gun might go off,’ said Captain Marsh. ‘As a uniformed combatant, I’m entitled to resist capture and promote my escape according to the rules of war.’
‘Ah, rules,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘I’m not sure how they apply to Sophia von Feldermann, except to demand of her the actions of a patriot. Bear in mind that I should give evidence.’
‘Yes, you were very close to us at times.’
‘Very close. I was never sure, however, of how much of a real threat you were to her.’
‘Major Kirsten?’ said Captain Marsh, and felt worried for Sophia.
‘Yes, very awkward,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘You can see why we prefer a quiet solution, those of us whose regard for her has no selfish motives.’
Captain Marsh, wincing, said, ‘There was no easy way out, once I decided to commandeer her car and her services.’
‘And there were other factors, of course,’ said Major Kirsten, ‘but there it is, we’ll dispatch you to a prisoner-of-war camp providing you keep it all to yourself and make no attempt to communicate with her.’
‘Why should I want to communicate with a young lady only too pleased to be free of me?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Major Kirsten thoughtfully, ‘why should you?’
‘You can have no doubts about her patriotism, since she was the one who shot me. Twice, I believe, and scored a hit each time.’
‘You’re prepared, then, to elect for an inquiry and a trial, and for her to be subjected to the ordeal of being questioned?’
‘No, damn it, I’m not,’ said Captain Marsh.
‘Her father, General von Feldermann, will be most relieved you wish to spare her that. You are requested, of course, to forget her.’
Captain Marsh looked plainly out of temper with that. He was being asked to permanently sever his links with Sophia. He accepted they could have no real relationship until the war was over. But when peace came, he would need to make contact of some kind with her. He would want to tell her he understood why she shot him. At the very last, in that grey dawn, she had been as true to her country as she could be. She had been warm and loving during the night.
‘Forget her for the time being, until the war is over, is that what you mean, Major Kirsten?’
‘I mean forget her.’ Major Kirsten was firm. ‘She belongs to a very conservative Prussian family. Is it necessary for me to tell you more than that? You aren’t getting a bad bargain, my friend – a prisoner-of-war camp instead of a trial and a possible execution.’
‘Has Miss von Feldermann agreed to this?’
‘You have my word that Miss von Feldermann would like to forget what happened,’ said Major Kirsten, and knew that to be quite true in respect of her firing of the revolver.
Captain Marsh winced again.
‘Yes, I can understand how she feels,’ he said, ‘but even so, I’ve reservations. I can keep quiet about her, and will, and I can promise not to communicate with her, especially if she wishes it, but I’m not sure it’s a promise I can keep for ever.’
‘I see.’ Major Kirsten pondered on the problem of traumatic love. He was not prepared to take up a wholly unyielding attitude, only to do as much as he thought necessary to the immediate purpose. ‘Will you give me your word you’ll wait two years?’
‘Two years? God Almighty,’ said Captain Marsh.
‘You know as well as I do, my friend, that even if the war ended tomorrow, no real reconciliation could be effected between your people and ours for quite two years. However, let us say a year after the end of the war. Do you agree?’
‘That could still be a hell of a time,’ said Captain Marsh. It could be a time of very painful waiting, giving Sophia every opportunity to forget him and to fall in love with one of her own countrymen, probably the most natural and helpful thing she could do for herself. But he had no alternative. ‘I give you my word,’ he said.
‘I accept your word,’ said Major Kirsten.
‘I’d like her family address. Is that asking too much of you?’
‘Yes,’ said Major Kirsten, but made a gesture. Captain Marsh handed him a writing pad. Major Kirsten placed it on the bedside table and scribbled Sophia’s family address in South Prussia. Captain Marsh thanked him. The major gave him a brief nod.
‘Goodbye, Captain Marsh.’
‘How is the war going?’ asked the RFC man as the major walked to the door.
‘Bloodily,’ said Major Kirsten.
Ludendorff had launched another massive attack in an attempt to destroy the Ypres salient. Again the result was inconclusive. Further attacks were made in May and June, all brilliantly conceived and all taking heavy tolls of the Allies and disastrous tolls of the Germans. Ludendorff, short of reserves, made his final effort in July, a huge and desperate offensive on both sides of Rheims. It failed.
Germany, completely exhausted, could no longer plan for victory, only for a defence effective enough to secure tolerable peace terms. But the country was being reduced to a condition of near anarchy by the effects of the sea blockade, by the huge casualty lists and by revolutionaries dangerously infected by the Bolshevism which had overthrown Imperial Russia.
Germany asked for an armistice. The Kaiser abdicated. The war was lost.