“You wanted to see me, Captain?”
“Walter, you’ll be covering for me today.” Hans was scheduled on a sortie with Gabi that afternoon and could not face her. “I’ve still got tons of paperwork to get through.”
Walter nodded. “That’s unlike you to leave things to the last minute.”
Hans ignored him.
“You’ve told Gabi then?”
Hans looked up from his papers. Why can’t you mind your own business? he thought, but he did not reprimand his second in command. “That will be all, Lieutenant.”
It was peaceful in the seclusion of Swallow’s cockpit. For half an hour, the tears flowed. Gabi had calmed, engrossed momentarily in the plight of an unlucky wasp that had found its way into the cockpit and was held prisoner.
She watched as the little wasp flew along the edges of the canopy in its quest to escape. It buzzed about Gabi, who sat perfectly still in awe of the creature’s determination to be free.
Was Hans like this little wasp? Did he feel trapped? Had she smothered him with love? Perhaps she had. Yes, she must have. It was her fault. She would speak with him before their sortie in the afternoon and tell him that she understood his need for space. She would give him all the time he needed and when he was ready, she would be waiting for him.
Gabi opened the canopy and watched the little wasp escape, her hope renewed.
That afternoon, Gabi waited for Hans at the briefing session. She sat nervously rehearsing in her head what she would say. Dieter and Otto were whispering to each other, and she wondered what they knew of Hans’s transfer. Was she the last to know?
Walter walked through the door. “Hans is bogged down with paperwork. I’ll be flying instead.”
Gabi nodded. Tonight would be a better time to speak with Hans, anyway. She clasped her hands tightly, and Walter saw how she struggled. He took a seat beside her, leaning in close. “Are you all right?”
Gabi looked into Walter’s worried eyes and she knew that Hans had spoken to him. Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m not sure. This is all so sudden.”
“Give it time,” he said. “Hans really does love you.”
The swarm returned late afternoon. Hans stood in the control tower scanning the sky, a mirage of planes emerging over a hazy horizon. He grabbed the binoculars, taking a moment to identify each craft—Walter, Dieter, Otto… where was Gabi? Hans adjusted the focus; still, he saw no other plane. He made his way to the radio.
“This is Phipps, come in Walter.” No response. He tried again; still no response. Squeezing the binoculars, he searched the sky, recounting the planes aloud—only three… where is she? His heart pounded at the thought of the unthinkable; today of all days. He hollered into the radio, his voice shrill with panic.
“I copy you, Phipps.”
“Where is Gabi?”
“She’s fine. Just a problem with her landing gear, but it’s sorted.”
Hans saw the distinctive colours of Swallow in the distance and released a deep sigh, his chest collapsing with exhausted relief. Now, more than ever, he knew that he could not stay with her. He would go mad.
Gabi sat on the outside steps of her accommodation block, gazing up at the stars, blackness speckled with white glistening gems to infinity. It had been drizzling earlier that evening but the sky had cleared, the night motionless like frozen water on a vast lake.
Minke nestled himself into Gabi’s lap. He was warm and comforting, and she was grateful for his company. She scratched a spot beneath his collar that she knew gave him pleasure. The little dog extended his neck and a blissful groan escaped. As usual, Pinke made a cosy nest for herself in Gabi’s bed and was warming the sheets for her.
She waited anxiously for Hans to return to base, having rehearsed in her head what she would say to him again and again. She pondered over the past few months leading up to the day’s shocking announcement—Hans had been acting strangely, leaving her bed not long after making love. She had asked him if her snoring was keeping him awake, and he had laughed at her. Was it the Pervitin that kept him awake and anxious all night? She was unsure of its side effects and wondered if there was more to his odd behaviour than just a drug… like another woman.
A lorry pulled up in front of the officer’s quarters. Gabi watched Otto stumble out, followed by Erich, Dieter, Peter, Walter and finally, Hans. The boys had organised a farewell bash. A couple of girls, nurses from the base infirmary, sat in the front.
“Hans, sweetheart,” one of them said, “be sure to come back. I’ll be waiting for you.”
The women drove off, leaving the men to stagger to their quarters. Minke pounced off Gabi’s lap and bounded after Hans, yapping loudly. Gabi retreated inside, the door slamming behind her.
“Minke, what have you been up to?” Hans mumbled through lips numb from too much schnapps. He picked up the little dog and scratched him under his chin before joining the others inside.
Gabi paced her room. He was already seeing another woman. How could he do this to her? Had she really meant so little to him that he could move on so quickly? Or had he been seeing her all along? What was she going to do? Why didn’t he love her anymore? Her mind raced to rationalize what she did not understand and could not accept. She threw herself down on her bed and sobbed uncontrollably for hours.
It was 4 a.m., and she was still awake. With puffy, bloodshot eyes, Gabi made her way to the shower block where she washed her body and face until the water ran cold. But no amount of scrubbing could wash away the hurt that had caused her eyes to swell and nose to flush. She dragged herself out of the shower and looked in the mirror, hoping to see normality restored.
With a sigh, she accepted her puffy face and returned to her room, where she sat and stewed at her dresser, cursing the mirror and twisting her ponytail, unable to clear the confusion that blurred all reasoning. A pair of scissors, shiny and beguiling, caught her eye. She had promised Hans that she would keep her hair long; what did it matter now? She would show him—show them all how little she cared.
With violent, uneven cuts, Gabi hacked into her hair, throwing the severed tuft into the bin. Fatigued beyond thought, she curled up on her bed with Pinke and watched the sunrise.
The next morning, JG 54\1 Group assembled in the yard to bid their commander farewell. It was a crisp, overcast morning, the yard a muddy bog that stuck to the soles making it slippery and difficult to walk. Hans squelched out into the centre and stood before his men, his manner official, his mood solemn.
Gabi was the last to join the line-up. She looked frightful. Her jagged hair, which she had stuffed into her hat, stuck out like tufts of straw, her face still swollen and pale. The palm of her right hand was red raw; she had scratched the scar obsessively throughout the night. Her jaw ached from grinding teeth that would no longer part without effort. And Gabi’s poorly chosen position in the line-up, standing beside Erich, ensured misery had company.
“What’s happened to you? You look a mess. And your hair looks ridiculous.”
“Mind your own business, farmer-boy.”
She kept her head down, eyes transfixed on a puddle that rippled with the breeze. Numb from her epic, emotional outpouring and lack of sleep, she was in a trance, praying that it would all end soon. A gust of wind sent Gabi’s hat toppling into the mud, her lacerated hair exposed for all to ridicule.
Hans moved down the line, shaking hands, joking, wishing his comrades well and then he saw Gabi. He starred at what was left of her hair and drew a puzzled frown. She avoided his eyes, now brimming with pity, and rubbed the palm of her right hand up and down her thigh before saluting, all the while staring stubbornly at the puddle. Hans moved on.