Kurt reported to Hans but rank never came between them. They enjoyed their status as elite fighter pilots for Jagdgeschwader (JG) 76, 1 Group. The Luftwaffe’s edict was ‘We fly till we die’ and the young fighter pilots took this quite literally, living each day as though it would be their last and revelling hard and long whenever they could. Tonight would be such a night. With the following day reserved for a rest day, they planned to meet up with some girls at the local pub.
“Check her out,” Kurt slurred. He’d already had way too much to drink, and his eyes ogled the waitress as she poured another round.
“What about me?” Hilda crossed her arms and pouted a bottom lip. She was a pretty brunette with short, permed hair and big, brown eyes awash with dejection at his lack of interest in her.
“Kurt, you’re with Hilda tonight—behave.” Hans turned to his date, Brigitte, and whispered into her ear, inciting giggles and a passionate kiss from the buxom blonde. “Lets’ go,” he said, drawing Brigitte to his side with a possessive arm and escorting her to the door.
“Where are we going?” Kurt asked.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m up for a hotel room.” Hans cupped Brigitte’s voluptuous bottom, squeezing it softly until she groaned while Kurt, on observing their mounting passion, shifted his gaze to Hilda, eyeing her with a vague squint.
“Why not.” Kurt grabbed Hilda’s hand and followed Hans and Brigitte, dragging Hilda behind him.
“Hey, not so rough!” She pulled herself free.
“Do you want a good time or not?”
Hilda’s watery eyes glared at Kurt. “You’re such an arrogant pig.” She turned her back and waited.
“I don’t have time for this. You two sort it out.” Hans and Brigitte left them standing at the bar and made their way to the reception desk in the foyer.
But Hilda stood her ground, leaving Kurt with no choice but to change tack. He moved behind her, nestling his chin into the nape of her neck.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said, stroking her arms enticingly. He nuzzled up to her ear and whispered.
Hilda’s faced flushed and her eyes almost popped from their sockets. “I didn’t know it could get that big.”
Gabi was restless. Winter was upon them and with it came the short days, cold weather and boredom. Unable to spend much time outdoors, she whiled away the hours reading and day-dreaming about flying. Once or twice a week, she would help other volunteers in the community hall pack provisions for the soldiers or sort mail at the local post office. Sometimes, she would assist Chef in the kitchen and like any apprentice, spent more time cleaning and washing up then engaged in the practice of cooking itself.
Today, they were making streuselkuchen for dessert. Made with a yeast dough base, a layer of fruit and a sweet crumb topping, it was one of Gabi’s favourite treats—second only to chocolate.
“Gabi, could you go down to the cellar and bring back a few plum jars?”
Gabi held her breathe. She had not been down in the cellar since that day, and the thought of it made her feel ill. She stalled, fidgeting with her cotton belt, twirling the end over her finger tightly until it went white. “How many do you need?”
“Three should do.” He tipped a cup of sugar into the bowl and blended the floury sludge, whipping it in a frenzy of culinary fervour. He looked up and saw that Gabi had not moved from her place, and he paused. “On second thought, I’ll go down. I’m not sure where they are, and it’ll be quicker if I look.”
Was her fear so obvious? Awash with shame, Gabi backed away. “No, I’ll go.” Clenching her jaw, she marched outside to the cellar door and her eyes fixed on the latch. She quivered. Her father had told her that Yuri would never harm her again, that he was with the devil as he deserved to be and would remain there forever. But it took Gabi years to accept this and even now, she reminded herself that Yuri was dead and it was foolish to fear what was no more.
She unlatched the door and peered inside. Light flooded the chasm and down into the stairwell, a familiar stench filling her nostrils and leaving her momentarily paralysed. She saw the lamp still hanging in its place on the wall, but it was no longer needed for electricity had been installed some years ago and a single switch by the door illuminated the vault via a series of ceiling lights. Even so, Gabi fought the rising panic, her chest heaving to fill her lungs and suppress her fear. She scuttled along the wall, seeing row upon row of pickled gherkins, sauerkraut and onions but no fruit.
Then, as if deliberately placed to challenge her further, she spied the preserved fruit jars at the back of the cellar on the highest shelf. Fumbling and swaying precariously on tiptoes, she coaxed three jars to the edge with her fingertips. She didn’t stop to see what fruit they were but bolted for the door with the jars nestled into her chest. One jar slipped and exploded as she bounded up the stairs, leaving a puddle of sticky, red muck that oozed back down into the cellar.
That night they had cherry crumb cake for dessert.
“Any news from the flight academy?” mumbled the general between mouthfuls.
“No, not yet.” She saw her father’s smug expression and looked away. Why did he always have to be right? She began to count the days since the entrance exam to convince herself that it had not been so long, and there was still hope. After all, had she not found the exam easy? Why would she settle for a nursing or typing position? No, she would simply reapply again until she got what she wanted.
Helmut entered the room. “General, I have the mail. Will you be retiring to the drawing room?”
Gabi sprung from her chair and launched herself at Helmut. “I’ll sort the post, Papa.” She grabbed the pile and fanned through some twenty or so letters. They fell and scattered across the floor and the general shook his head.
“Gabi, you can be so clumsy.”
She fell to her knees and rummaged through the mound, checking and tossing letters to the side. “See, here it is—I knew it would come,” she said, tearing the envelope and drawing her finger down the page as she read. “You have been accepted as a student of aeronautical engineering,” she read aloud. “I’m to start this month!”
The general’s eyes bulged. “I don’t believe it. Since when do we recruit women as engineers?” He took and read the letter, his eyebrows rising and falling as he puzzled through the consequences. “So, you’ll be in Bavaria.” He paused for dramatic effect. “You know that I won’t be able to visit you often?”
“I know, Papa. But you wouldn’t have to drive all the way from Berlin to Meissen on weekends anymore, either. I know how much you hate that drive.”
The general tossed the letter on to the sideboard. “My convenience has nothing to do with this matter.”
But Gabi knew that it had everything to do with her father’s final decision, so she held her tongue and waited for her father to concede as she knew he would. She watched as he picked up and reread the letter and her excitement grew with each passing moment.
Finally, and with a wistful sigh, he folded the sheet and handed it to Gabi. “Well, I suppose we should celebrate your success then. Helmut, go down to the cellar and get some champagne. You know which one.”
Helmut puckered his face at the general.
“Well? What are you waiting for?”