“Yes, Captain.” The corporal jumped to attention, handing over the papers, already completed.
“Impressive,” Kurt said.
An unfamiliar sound tinkled on the tin roof. Both men rolled their eyes to the ceiling, the corporal standing fixed to the wooden floorboards, unwilling to venture past the security of his desk. Kurt stepped outside, cool drops from heaven seeping into his sweat-stained shirt, beads of life trickling down the bridge of his nose and onto his cracked lips. He licked the moisture and shook the wet from his hair, laughing aloud at the irony of life.
“Kurt—he’s coming back?” Gabi blinked excitedly. “Are you sure, Walter?”
“Absolutely,” he said, grinning generously.
This was exactly what they all needed; Kurt was a good pilot and friend, and they had all missed him. Admittedly, Gabi had some reservations about his ability to command the group—Kurt was not known for his leadership skills—but Luftwaffe High Command obviously thought otherwise. In the end, it didn’t matter—immature, irresponsible, irreverent Kurt was always fun to be around, and they all needed a good laugh.
Kurt would fly from Tunisia to join JG 54 in Nikolskoye in Russia. She hurried to the strategic room where a wall-mounted map showed numerous routes for such a journey. Would he fly over Italy and the Alps or head further east over Turkey? Was it to be a solo flight and where would he refuel? Her mind churned over the logistics, her anxiety growing as the risks unfurled. Gabi heaved a sigh of hope and chanted a silent prayer—may Kurt return safely for she needed him.
It was the day of Kurt’s return and Gabi paced anxiously along the rickety deck surrounding the control tower, gazing out over the vista for her friend. She had missed Kurt more than she dared admit and couldn’t contain her joy when a small speck appeared on the horizon. She raised her binoculars and zoomed in on the craft, recognising Kurt’s distinctive flying style for he rarely flew in a linear fashion, but would lift and drop like a condor riding the thermals.
Gabi scrambled over the railing, ignoring the ladder and clambering down the support beams. She leapt from the lowest strut, landing and bounding for the tarmac in one effortless motion, her eyes fixed on the plane circling the base. She spread her arms and rocked from side to side, welcoming Kurt with a customary victory salute and as she watched his plane’s wings waggle their acknowledgement, she knew her prayers had been answered.
The fighter plane, coated in a layer of Sahara Desert sand, glided skillfully onto the runway. The canopy flew open and Kurt jumped down, landing heavily before rolling his stiff shoulders and stretching his rigid legs back to life.
Gabi stood, momentarily riveted, emotions welling and spilling into motion. A slow pace quickly turned to a sprint as they ran to each other and embraced.
“Welcome back, Kurt.”
“It’s so good to be back. I missed you… missed you all.” Kurt paused to study Gabi’s face. “You’ve cut your hair. I like it. It suits you.”
Gabi ignored the compliment. She had cut her hair for the wrong reason and did not want to be reminded of it. Besides, a compliment from Kurt… surely, he was joking.
“And you, you’re so brown—like a native. Come, you must be dying for a beer.”
Kurt had them all in hysterics that afternoon; apparently, he had given his lazy, good-for-nothing crew hell in North Africa, claiming that they just didn’t get his sense of humour. Gabi’s ribs ached; she couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so hard.
When Kurt’s tales of hilarity finally ran dry, she excused herself, wishing him a good night’s sleep. It was early evening, and only Kurt and Otto were left seated at the bar.
“What was Phipps’s problem? Was it another woman or did he just fall out of love?”
Otto downed the last of his beer. “No, there was no other woman that I know of. Did he stop loving her?” He paused. “If you ask me, he loved her too much. After that accident with the Russian pilot, Phipps couldn’t stop worrying about her. He confided in me once that he didn’t think he could take watching Gabi die. It was driving him crazy. He became totally paranoid every time they went on a sortie; all he wanted to do was protect her. He knew that something had to change. I guess that’s why he asked for the transfer—out of sight, out of mind.”
“That’s stupid logic,” Kurt said.
“Yeh, it is but when you’re madly in love, you think stupid thoughts.”
“Madly in love or just mad on Pervitin.”
“Pilot’s Chocolate? Maybe—but my money’s on love. One day, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Who me? Fall in love? Like hell!” Kurt finished his beer and belched loudly. “Say, when is Edith due?”
“Next month. She’s convinced it will be a boy—wants to name him Manfred.”
“Manfred? Must be the father’s name.”
Otto punched Kurt’s shoulder and smiled his affection for his old friend. “It’s great to have you back, Kurt. Now, go have a shower. You stink.”
Kurt slept from the moment his head found the pillow but he woke a few hours later, his body clock out of sync with a foreign time zone, the midnight sky an eerie twilight glow. He got out of bed and wandered outside for some fresh air, taking in the mild chill of a summer’s night in sub-arctic Russia. A slender figure sat on a bench in the yard observing the serenity.
“Can’t sleep? Light keeping you awake?” Kurt asked.
Gabi let out a deep sigh. “I’m used to it now. I just can’t get to sleep easily anymore.”
“Nightmares?”
“Yes, sometimes.”
Kurt sat beside her and looked up at the streaks of crimson and purple across an endless sheet of dusty blue. “Did you know that the Russians call the white night Beliye Nochi? It only happens north of the Arctic Circle.”
Gabi shook her head and snorted.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” she said. “But you’re a strange one to work out. You know so much about the world and yet you know so little about people.”
Kurt shrugged. “I’d hoped you’d write to me.”
She remembered a postcard of herself that she intended to send him one lonely afternoon. She had written ‘To Kurt with Love’ on the card but had had second thoughts and never sent it. She now wished that she had.
“I did write to you, but I forgot to post it. Besides, I didn’t think you’d be interested, with all that hot, exotic pussy to distract you.” She slapped her hand down on his thigh and chuckled. “Thanks for your birthday card, though. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.”
He smiled; a dimple exposing his fondness for her. “Oh, I almost forgot. I got you something in Africa.” Kurt dug into his pocket and removed a handkerchief. He unfolded the cloth on his lap, revealing an item of Bedouin tribal jewellery. “It’s a fertility necklace.”
It was an exquisite piece of intricate silverwork with beads of red and turquoise, like the desert sun and moon. Gabi’s face glowed beneath the shimmer of the white night.
“You’ve got to be kidding me—a fertility necklace from you of all people. But it is beautiful. Thank you so much.” She gave Kurt a peck on the cheek and placed the necklace around her neck. “Lets’ hope it doesn’t work. That’s the last thing I need right now,” she said.
They sat and watched the skies muted colours fade, the stillness of the night amplifying their loneliness.
“So, what happened?”
Gabi shook her head.
“You know, between you and Hans?”
She looked into his glacial eyes and took a deep breath. “He called me into his office on a Tuesday morning to tell me that he was being transferred. On the Wednesday morning, he was gone.”