He looked to either side and pulled me into his arms. His large brown eyes blinked back tears. He never expected to see me again.
“One kiss?” he whispered.
I nodded.
He lowered his lips to mine, and just as quickly, he pulled back. “Thank you for treating me like I matter. I know you’d never have feelings for me, but I’ve loved you for seeing me as I am.”
“Peter, anyone who doesn’t see what a remarkable man you are is a damned fool. Come with me.”
“I’d just slow you down. You can’t wait any longer. Go!” he ordered.
“Stay alive,” I commanded in turn. I planted a kiss on his lips with a prayer it would somehow keep him safe from the evil that was coming for us.
I scaled up the ladder and into the cockpit, fully expecting a thunder of jackboots on concrete floors to echo off the hangar walls, but none came.
I took off unencumbered. Even under the circumstances, it was thrilling to be in the cockpit again. I’d only had the chance two or three times since my release. It was clear they had me chained to a desk to keep an eye on me.
I noticed that my rucksack, the one from my first attempt to flee, sat in the space the copilot would usually occupy. Once at altitude, I locked the throttle in place and rifled through it. One of the luxuries of flying, compared to driving, was that the chance of hitting an obstacle up here was next to none.
The contents were virtually the same as when I first attempted to flee. But to my papers and cash, he’d added a few more practical items such as a change of clothes, maps, a bare-bones first-aid kit, as well as another note.
Johanna,
If you’re alive and reading this, then there is one small mercy left in the world. The hideout was raided this morning, and your design work was everywhere to be seen. It’s enough to have you hanged. You must flee to France if you can. Do not try to find your family. It will be too late for them by the time you see this. I’m sorry I can’t do more for them, but saving you will be the best thing I’ve done with my life. It makes the sad reality that it will likely be ending soon a little lighter burden to bear. Thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me. It meant more than you’ll ever know.
With love,
Peter
I wiped the tears from my face and returned my attention to the business of flying. France would be just over three hours in perfect conditions, and I had to leave German airspace as soon as possible if I was going to escape with my life. I didn’t dare die now after Peter had gone to such lengths. The letter itself was a huge risk, but it was the only method at his disposal to save my life.
I flew, keeping my course set toward France. I had no real plan once I landed. Nothing beyond seeking out Metta and Oskar, with the help of the Allies, if possible. I could divulge all the information on German aircraft and engineering I had stored in my brain and work for the other side. It’s what I should have done from the beginning. Found a way out and given my knowledge and expertise to the side that wasn’t trying to kill an entire race of people, to trim anyone deemed useless or lesser from the population for the benefit of the strong and privileged.
In that moment, I said a prayer of thanksgiving that I’d been born to a half-Jewish father. Had my ancestry not made me vulnerable to the Reich, I might not have been as sympathetic to those who hadn’t been as fortunate as I was. Still, I’d been numb enough to their suffering to do nothing to stop it.
I was over two hours into the flight before I saw more than a cloud or flock of birds in the sky. It was an American aircraft, based on the paint job, though I couldn’t identify the make or model. It must have been doing reconnaissance work but would be heavily armed for defense. I was in an unarmed light aircraft, and shouldn’t have been a target, but by the time they took aim at me, it was too late for me to take any evasive maneuvers.
He opened fire, and two rounds were enough to take out my engine. I wrestled with the throttle to keep from dipping into a steep dive, but the effort was in vain. The best I could do was urge the plane toward an open field. I had enough control that I was able to level out some and avoid a total catastrophe, but I landed so hard I could have sworn I felt every bone in my body rattle in its socket.
I wasn’t sure how long it was before the young couple wrestled me from the plane, but they were kindly and gentle as the darkness surrounded me.
I woke up in a bed in a dimly lit cabin. A woman with brown hair and a caring face sat on the edge of the bed and held my hand.
“She’s waking,” she said quietly in German to the rest of the room. I hadn’t crossed the border.
“Keep her lying flat,” a male voice called. “We don’t really know if her spine has been damaged.”
“I wish the American doctor were here,” she said. “We could use his help.”
“I’ve wished that more than a few times these past months,” the man said.
He finally came into view. He was a tall man and probably handsome if he weren’t in dire need of a good bath and a shave. I couldn’t see much of the room, but it didn’t seem to be equipped with any sort of modern conveniences.
“Can you speak?” he asked. “Don’t tire yourself, but can you?”
“Y-yes,” I said, trying the word on my tongue. My throat felt like it was coated in thick glue, but the sound emerged.
“Are you in pain?” the woman asked. “Can I get you anything?”
“Water,” I said. Was I in pain? I hadn’t taken stock yet, preoccupied as I was with my surroundings. My left arm suddenly erupted in flames of agony. All I could do was whimper and point.
“It’s broken,” the man explained. “Quite badly. The rest of you took a good beating too, but your arm and the concussion seem to be the worst of it. We’re trying to get you some pain medicine now, my dear.”
“Thank you,” I said, both to him and to the woman who came with a large glass of clean water.
“Can you feel your toes?” she asked. I wiggled them and nodded. Satisfied, she helped me to sit, propped up by dust-laden pillows that had seen happier days.
I drank from the glass of cool water and felt the viscous coating of my throat dissipate with each sip.
“We were surprised to find a woman in the cockpit,” the man said. “Not that we were expecting a plane to crash practically right on our heads.”
“No one does,” I said.
“Do you think it’s wise to be friendly?” the woman asked with a pointed glare at the man. “She’s one of them.”
“One of whom?” I asked.
“We don’t know that for sure. She’s not wearing a uniform,” he protested.
“Come now, that was a government plane. Unless she stole it, she’s Luftwaffe.”
“You’re both right,” I said, realizing that trusting these people was really my only choice. “I am Luftwaffe, and that is a government plane, but I did steal it.”
“Why?” the woman asked simply.
“They learned the truth about me, and I was trying to leave. I was trying to get to France so I could surrender and work for the Allies.”
They exchanged glances that carried on full conversations, the way only deeply devoted couples could do.
“Jonas, Heide! What was the smoke I saw? Are you both all right?” A voice sounded from the front door.