James Shipman - Task Force Baum

He was lying on a cot, chest up, his eyes blinking under the brightness of a bare bulb above him. He could hear the bustle of men moving here and there in the hospital. They were still in the ward. He turned his head to the right and could see the familiar doctor, working away with one of the wounded. He moved his arms, struggling to rise. He could not move. He realized, to his surprise, that he was restrained at the wrists and ankles with what felt like rope. He looked down, his chin resting on his chest, and verified that he was tied to the cot tightly.

Knorr must have done this, he realized. He looked again to his left and his right. There were German guards posted at all the entrances, machine pistols in their hands. Yet the orderlies and the doctor continued to work away as if everything was fine. How could that be? He needed to warn them. One of the men was nearby to his right, and he called to him. He knew him slightly, and the soldier came over, a neutral expression on his face.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Curtis, his voice louder than he wanted it to be. The man’s face furrowed into a frown.

“Keep your voice down!” he demanded.

“Don’t you realize what they did? What they are going to do again?”

“Shut your mouth!” the man insisted.

“They killed all the injured. Didn’t you know that?”

The man moved closer. “I said to be quiet,” he responded, putting a hand on Curtis’s chest. “Yes, I know what happened.”

“Then you have to help me. Can you untie my hands and feet?”

The orderly shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at you,” he answered. “Even without your restraints, you can barely move. Look at them,” he said, his head nodding toward the guards. “They have machine guns. Yes, I know what they did, but it doesn’t mean they will do it again. If they do, they do; we can’t fight them. Most of the men in here can barely move. If you cause a ruckus in here, you will get them all killed.”

“At least there’d be a chance.”

“Nonsense. The only chance we have is to sit and wait.” He edged closer. “Listen, I’ve heard them talking. The appearance of that raid has them rattled. They know the end is near. Do you seriously think they want to add to their crimes?”

“Knorr does. He doesn’t care. He’s coming to kill Waters and me.”

The orderly stiffened. “He’s not allowed in here again. You were probably passed out and didn’t see it. General von Goeckel came in and chewed the sergeant out. I don’t know what he said, but the Ferret was as angry as I’ve ever seen him. At the end, the general pointed toward the door, and Knorr stormed out. I don’t think he’ll be back. At least we can hope.”

“He’ll be back, and he’ll kill us all.”

“I told you to shut your mouth. You’re wrong. And if you’re not, there’s not a damned thing we can do about it. I’m not going to let you endanger the lives of all of these men.”

“At least untie me,” Curtis pleaded.

The orderly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Captain, I can’t help you.” He started to rise.

“What about Waters?” asked Curtis. “Is he awake?”

“Not yet. He should be anytime, though. Don’t worry, Curtis. I think they’re done. You focus on getting better. We’ll all be home soon.”

Curtis closed his eyes and didn’t respond. He knew there was no point in trying to convince the orderly. He was clinging to a desperate hope. The man was right. There were at least a hundred Germans in the camp. The hospital constituted the last of the POWs. They were unarmed and injured. If they fought, they would all be dead for sure. The only chance they had was to hope.

But that left Knorr. No matter what the orderly said, the Ferret would be back. He hated Curtis with something akin to religious zeal. He was going to get his revenge on the captain and on Waters, whatever the general wanted. He had to get free and find his pistol. He had to protect Waters. How to do it, though? He didn’t have any idea how he would break free. Even if he did, where was the pistol now? He didn’t know which cot he’d been in before. He had a general idea, but he would need time to search. Even if he somehow had that time, there was no guarantee the Germans hadn’t already located and confiscated the weapon. Without it, particularly in his condition, he didn’t know how he would possibly fight back.

One problem at a time. He had to figure out how to get free of the ropes. He tried to work his wrists and ankles against them, feeling if there was any weakness in the knots. He couldn’t see any of them clearly, and after a few minutes, he gave up. He didn’t sense any way to untie the knots by himself. He considered flipping himself on his side. The cots were light, and he could probably manage it. But what would that accomplish? The guards would be alerted immediately and would investigate. They might move him at that point or secure him somewhere even more impossible. He couldn’t think of anything he could do. He continued to struggle, trying to work through the bonds that held him, but he was growing weaker and light-headed. His head and back burned. Finally, he gave up in a haze of exhausted frailty and drifted into sleep.

He woke in the darkness. He must have been out for hours. He felt confused for a moment until he remembered where he was. He felt a tugging at his hands, and he pulled away, groaning.

“Quiet!” whispered a voice he recognized.

“Waters?”

“Keep it down,” the lieutenant colonel said. “I’m trying to get you untied.”

“How can you even be up? You were near death.”

“I’m a little better now,” said Waters. “But does that matter? We’ve got to get out of here. They’ll kill us if we don’t.”

Curtis was relieved that someone else echoed his thoughts. “I tried to get the orderly to help me, but he said we should sit tight.”

“He’s a fool then. They did it once, they’ll do it again. At least Knorr’s dead. He was the ringleader last time.”

“He’s not gone. He survived somehow. He threatened me when you were unconscious… and you.”

“More reason for us to get the hell out of here.”

“But where can we go? The camp is full of Germans.”

“If we can make it back to the headquarters building, we’ll be safe. It’s a long shot, but we’ve got to try.” He gave a final tug, and the rope fell from Curtis’s right hand.

The captain pulled his arm up, flexing his fingers and trying to push blood through as he worked his wrist around. “I don’t understand,” he whispered. “What good would it do to reach the HQ building? Surely they would search for us.”

Waters leaned closer, his voice the lightest whisper. “There are tunnels below. We were working on an escape plan. There’s plenty of room and a little food and water stored there too. If we can make it, we can hide there for days, maybe longer. Hopefully long enough that the Germans will leave, or that our friends will arrive again, this time for good.” Waters pulled and twisted the ropes on Curtis’s left hand, and after an extended struggle, they too dropped away.

Curtis pulled himself up, ignoring the dizzy vertigo and the gnashing pain. He set to work on his right ankle while Waters worked to free his left. There were no guards inside, and the other men seemed to be asleep. Tunnels . Curtis had never heard about them. He wondered why the secret was not shared with the whole command team. It was probably best it had not been. There were snitches in the camp, perhaps even a German plant or two. No, it was wise of Goode and Waters to keep that information to themselves. Still, it would likely do them little good. The headquarters building was only a hundred yards away, but Curtis could barely walk, and Waters must be in even worse shape. There were likely German guards at the entrance to the hospital and more on patrol in between. The chances they would make it were next to nothing.