Читать книгу The German Nurse - M.J. Hollows - Страница 16

Jack had just sat down in the main office of the police station when the door flew open and the chief officer marched in. Jack’s legs were weary from patrolling all day, but still he pulled himself from the chair and stood to attention as etiquette demanded. The others in the room did the same at various intervals and they all threw smart salutes. The chief saluted back, then turned towards the door as a man in the grey uniform of the German Wehrmacht stepped in, followed by an adjutant or aide similarly dressed. A surprised silence filled the room. The Germans had finally arrived.

‘I would like to introduce the German Kommandant,’ the chief said, stepping aside in deference to the man in the grey uniform, his peaked cap now tucked under his arm. ‘He will be in charge of operations on the island, and I expect you to show him exactly the same level of respect that you show me.’

In normal circumstances someone would have cracked a joke at that point. Instead, the assembled policemen stood there, awkwardly awaiting orders. After a second or two those at the front of the room threw a stiff salute and the others joined in, Jack amongst them.

‘Thank you,’ the kommandant said with a thick German accent as he stepped forward to appraise them. The man was even older than the chief, twenty or thirty years Jack’s senior. He had a thin nose and deep brown eyes, and his hair was cut close, more silver than black. His uniform was just as cleanly pressed as every other German Jack had seen, but made from a better quality grey wool. An Iron Cross was tied at the neck of his tunic and gold braiding decorated his collar and epaulettes. His aristocratic bearing was obvious from the way he looked down his pointy nose at everyone.

‘I am happy to be here.’ His English was stilted as if he had practised the words. It was as though he didn’t really understand what he was saying, but had decided to say it nonetheless. Jack suspected that his command of the language was nothing to do with the reason he had been chosen for the position of commander of the occupation forces. Another German soldier stood at his shoulder, quietly looking over the assembled policeman. As on previous occasions when a French diplomat or some other authority had come to the island, they had been provided with an interpreter.

‘But my English is not so good,’ the kommandant continued. It was an unexpected admission for the kommandant, who had the air of a practised public speaker, a man who was never wrong, or allowed himself to be inferior. If it was a deliberate attempt to be disarming then Jack suspected that it had worked in a way. There was a relaxation of the tension around the room as the men realised that nothing they said would be understood by the German, and that his interpreter would probably not waste the time in translation.

He smiled at them in a way that didn’t reach his eyes, then gestured for his interpreter to step forward. The kommandant spoke, then the interpreter translated into perfectly structured and accented English. Jack couldn’t help feel that the interpreter was only paraphrasing what his superior officer was saying. He talked about how they had come in advance of the main force, their plans for the island, how none of them had anything to worry about as they were very fond of the islands and the Aryan people who inhabited them, and that they wanted it to be the very ‘model’ occupation they had all dreamed about.

When he had finished speaking, he smiled again, but Jack noticed that it was slightly more forced than the first time. Perhaps he had been expecting more of a response from the policemen, as they simply stood and stared.

After that he said something quietly to the chief that the interpreter relayed and then he walked around the various desks in the office, looking at them over the top of his glasses. A minute or so later, he stopped in front of Jack who felt his stance stiffen under the German’s attention. If he had been uncomfortable before, he was even more so now. There was a look on the German’s face that Jack thought was surprise. The kommandant rearranged the small glasses on his nose.

‘Are you not young for the police?’ he asked, speaking through the interpreter, then continued as if he didn’t expect an answer. ‘I would have thought a young man of your age to be with your army.’

‘We’re not subject to the same laws as the mainland, Kommandant,’ the chief jumped in. ‘That is to say, England has different rules to us.’

‘Fascinating.’ The kommandant turned, apparently now bored of the conversation. ‘Then I suspect that very little will change at all.’

‘Although,’ he continued. ‘It does surprise me that a young man such as yourself did not sign up with the British army to fight for your fatherland. Did you not want to defend your land? Perhaps you are a coward?’

Jack could feel his cheeks going red, but he stayed silent. The kommandant and his interpreter’s voice droned on as Jack tried to concentrate against his growing anger.

‘Or could it be that you are one of us and you welcomed us here? That you truly understood what the German Reich can bring? You are a true Aryan. The Führer would be proud to find such people in his new lands. Perhaps I should write to him of the great people of Guernsey and how they are looking forward to being part of the thousand-year Reich!’

The interpreter smiled at Jack when he finished speaking. It was a smile that spoke in volumes, a smile that on one hand told him that the interpreter thought that the kommandant believed his words, and on the other hand that Jack should ignore him completely. Without waiting for a response, the kommandant sat at the chief’s desk and glanced through some papers. It was a clear show that he was keen on being involved in the day-to-day workings of the island, but it left the interpreter standing awkwardly by Jack. He smiled again and there was a warmth there that Jack wasn’t expecting.

Jack shuffled his feet, praying for this situation to end as quickly as possible. The silence dragged on and he felt more and more visible as the seconds clicked away.

‘Your English is very good,’ he said to the interpreter, trying to fill the gap.

‘Thank you. I studied in England, and it’s a great opportunity to have a chance to practise it. It’s a fascinating language, a mixture of German, French, and Latin. Fascinating.’

Jack nodded in reply, almost regretting the compliment. He didn’t want to be drawn into a conversation with the man, but the silence was even worse. He shuffled again, suddenly feeling the weight of his legs. He realised the interpreter was waiting expectantly for a response. He racked his brain for something appropriate to say, but all he wanted to do was to scream ‘get out!’ The closer they were to him, the closer they were to Johanna.

‘Where did you study?’ he asked instead, hoping that the conversation would end up with the kommandant drawing his interpreter away.

‘Oh, er,’ the interpreter mumbled, apparently surprised by the question. Jack wondered if anyone had taken an interest in him like this before, or had merely passed him off as an extension of the kommandant. ‘At the School of Tropical Medicine in Liverpool. A fascinating place. Naturally since the war began I have had other duties to perform. I must attend to the kommandant. Excuse me.’

The kommandant had stood again, turned to leave, then stepped to the side, as if he had forgotten something. He snapped his heels together, while raising his right arm into the air with his palm outstretched. ‘Heil Hitler!’ he shouted.

The German liaison officer barely hesitated before he too clipped together his heels. ‘Heil Hitler!’ he returned with equal conviction.

There was an awkward moment as the kommandant appeared to look around the room. The others appeared unsure, shuffled their feet and looked at each other for direction. David’s eyes bored right into Jack’s from across the room, and Jack shook his head with as little motion as possible. There was no way that he would salute. Sure, they were in charge now, but what did it mean to him? Who was Hitler to Jack? He may serve him in some way, but he wasn’t about to debase himself like that. David seemed to be buoyed by Jack’s response, and he took a deep breath before returning to work.

The kommandant let his arm drop, and nodded to the interpreter, before finally leaving the room, his highly polished boots clicking lightly as he walked along the tiled corridor floor. The interpreter followed a few steps behind and the sound disappeared into the distance. It was another moment before everyone returned to work and sound rushed back into the room like a coming tide.

Jack stood, strong in his decision. There was something about the kommandant that Jack couldn’t quite identify, but something told him he would have to watch himself. He could never let them know about Johanna and who she truly was. He didn’t think any of them could be trusted. His eyes went to the orders the kommandant had left behind, which had already been circulated to the press for the morning papers. Some of them would be almost impossible to follow.

ORDERS OF THE COMMANDANT OF THE GERMAN FORCES IN OCCUPATION OF THE Island OF GUERNSEY

1st July 1940

(1) All inhabitants must be indoors by 11.00 p.m. and must not leave their homes before 6.00 a.m.

(2) We will respect the population in Guernsey; but, should anyone attempt to cause the least trouble, serious measures will be taken and the town will be bombed.

(3) All orders given by the military authority are to be strictly obeyed.

(4) All spirits must be locked up immediately and no spirits may be supplied, obtained or consumed henceforth. This prohibition does not apply to stocks in private houses.

(5) No person shall enter the aerodrome at La Villiaze.

(6) All rifles, airguns, pistols, revolvers, sporting guns, and all other weapons whatsoever, except souvenirs, must, together with all ammunition, be delivered at the Royal Hotel by 12 noon today, 1st July.

(7) All British sailors, airmen, and soldiers on leave in this island must report at the police station at 9.00 a.m. today and must then report at the Royal Hotel.

(8) No boat or vessel of any description, including any fishing boat, shall leave the harbour or any other place where the same is moored, without an order from the military authority, to be obtained at the Royal Hotel. All boats arriving from Jersey, from Sark or from Herm, or elsewhere, must remain in harbour until permitted by the military to leave. The crews will remain on board. The master will report to the harbourmaster, St Peter Port, and will obey his instructions.

(9) The sale of motor spirit is prohibited, except for use on essential services, such as doctors’ vehicles, the delivery of foodstuffs and sanitary services where such vehicles are in possession of a permit from the military authority to obtain supplies. These vehicles must be brought to the Royal Hotel by 12 noon today to receive the necessary permission. The use of cars for private purposes is forbidden.

(10) The black-out regulations already in force must be observed as before.

(11) Banks and shops will be open as usual.

(Signed) THE GERMAN COMMANDANT OF THE Island OF GUERNSEY