“Are you all right?” the major asked.
“Yes, Major Stern.”
He shook his head again. “You’re a freak, Cadet Richter. I think you’ve earned some time at the controls.”
The cadet pilots put Gabi’s impressive flight performance down to female inferiority. According to one arrogant cadet by the name of Erich Schreiner, “You’re less likely to feel the effects of flight if you’ve got a small brain.”
Erich was your typical blue-eyed Hitler Youth pin-up boy—blond hair cut in the standard military style (shaved sides, long and combed back on top), of average height and build with sparkling white teeth and a high flat forehead, physically fit and coordinated, but lacking finesse and the mental capacity to know what that meant. His family was wealthy and owned a large rural property in Bavaria that Erich made out to be some noble country estate but Erich’s common dialect gave more away than he realised; his family were nothing more than uneducated, ignorant farmers, that had never ventured beyond the local village.
Gabi’s first encounters with her fellow trainee pilots were positive—they were polite, almost friendly, and joked with her somewhat patronizingly, but Gabi didn’t mind; at least she wasn’t being ignored. But as time went on and Gabi’s abilities became apparent, their feelings of superiority turned to jealousy and eventually, contempt.
Gabi was no stranger to bullying, having endured many years as ‘that strange German girl’ at boarding school, so she kept quiet and ignored the bullying as best she could. At the start, it was harmless, taking the form of childish pranks—like the time Klaus wiped shoe polish on the rims of Gabi’s flying goggles. Even Major Stern had to chuckle at the dark rings that circled her eyes when she removed the goggles. But the pranks became increasingly more malicious.
It was well known to everyone that Erich despised Gabi. He hated that she was smarter than he was, could fly better than he could and knew more about planes than he ever would. But most of all, he hated that she was a girl.
“Women are only good for three things: breeding, cooking and cleaning—but I think you’d struggle with all three,” Erich said to Gabi one day over lunch.
“You’d be surprised,” Gabi said, immediately regretting that she had engaged with him.
“Yeh, maybe you’re right. I think you would be good at cleaning toilets,” Erich said and sniggered into his shoulder while the others chuckled along.
But Gabi had no rival when it came to verbal stoushes. “If ignorance is bliss,” she said coolly, “then you must be living in paradise, farmer-boy.”
The others all cackled at Gabi’s quick response, a look of confusion spreading over Erich’s face that roused even more hilarity from the group. From then on Gabi referred to Erich as the farmer-boy, and he hated her for it.
Erich’s first attempt at revenge was unimaginative and juvenile. They were sitting an open-book examination and were permitted to reference a journal on meteorology. The previous day, Erich had glued the pages of Gabi’s journal together and shared his prank with the rest of the class. Sniggers and winks circled the room as Gabi tried to open her book during the exam. She knew Erich was responsible and cast him a cocky grin before placing the useless book under her desk and continuing with the exam. It came as a shock to her class—especially Erich—when the teacher announced that Gabi still passed the exam with top marks.
On another occasion, she found a folded note that had been slipped under her door.
I want to get to know you. Please go out with me this Friday night – Heinz.
Gabi opened the door and peered outside. No one. She blushed as she reread the note. Could it be true? She liked Heinz. He was tall and imposing, modest and jovial. He would sometimes laugh at her remarks but apart from that, he seemed disinterested in her. Perhaps she just hadn’t noticed. She looked forward to accepting his invitation the next day just the same.
Fighter pilots were exposed to challenging conditions, demanding fitness and stamina. The first few months of pilot training were therefore focussed on physical discipline and like boot camp, cadets were drilled for hours. Each morning, they rose with the roosters and subjected their bodies to all manner of physical torture. Gabi struggled, her thin frame buckling under the pressure, but she had endurance and a stubborn disposition on her side and managed to keep up with her physically superior peers.
It was early, before their morning drill, and Gabi was nervously tying the laces on her gym shoes waiting for Heinz to make an appearance. He strolled out into the yard, confident and carefree, eager to put his body through its paces.
“Yes,” she whispered from behind his shoulder.
“Yes, what?” He adjusted his shorts and kept his back to her.
“Yes to Friday night.”
He turned around. “What about Friday night?”
“You didn’t send me a note?”
Heinz shook his head, and for a moment Gabi wanted to slap the bemused grin from his face. But then Erich and his circle broke into laughter.
So, it had been another prank.
Gabi gritted her teeth. “Sorry, Heinz—my mistake.” She turned to Erich, glaring at him with malice that flowed effortlessly as she spoke. “Not getting any, Erich? Good God, you must be frustrated to dick me around like that.”
The other cadets sniggered; she might be an easy target, but she certainly knew how to bite back.
The harassment finally came to a head a few days later when Erich assured his clique that he had devised the ultimate prank to stitch up that smart-mouthed schlampe.
Gabi sat alone, enjoying her bottle of non-alcoholic apple cider with her meal, observing the stream of students move through the busy dining hall. She pursed her lips, the taste of cider unusually bitter, and wondered what apple variety had been used.
“I got you another one.” Erich placed a cider before Gabi and took a seat beside her.
“What’s up, farmer-boy? No one to play with?”
Erich forced a snigger. “I grabbed one for Pauli, but he’s not here so I thought you might like it.”
She accepted the cider, flicking the top and taking a swig. This, too, was bitter but still drinkable. They exchanged a few cool words, Erich’s company both awkward and incredibly dull. She gulped her drink down quickly.
“Better go or we’ll be late for class. Thanks for the cider.” She trotted off to her next lesson, leaving Erich to gloat at the table.
Ten minutes into the class, the room whirled and objects blurred through squinted eyelids. Gabi looked about her at faces that grinned annoyingly back. Unable to focus on the lecture or make sense of the writing on the blackboard, she gave in to the yawning and laid her head on the desktop. Just a quick nap, she thought.
A book slammed down by her head and she sprang up, eyes wide and bewildered. Swaying slightly, she giggled at Sergeant Klim, who stood ominously over her.
“What’s so funny, Cadet Richter? Didn’t you get enough sleep last night?”
“No, Sergeant, I mean, yes, Sergeant, I mean… I don’t know what a mean anymore.”
Sniggers circled the room.
“Are you drunk, Cadet Richter?” Sergeant Klim asked. “Do you know that drinking is against regulations and you could be expelled?”