Daughters of the Night Sky

“How do you manage to keep yourselves out of harm’s way?” Polina asked.

“I don’t,” Heide said, her arms crossed and her chin tucked to her chest. “Such a thing is not possible. They come, and I am powerless to stop them from doing as they wish. Taking food, blankets—whatever it is they desire. For the sake of the children, I can only do my best to ensure they don’t have reason to kill me.”

In the stoop of her shoulders and the waver of her voice was a fatigue that sleep would not cure. The war had taken from her, but the aftermath had broken her.

“How many times has your home been raided?”

“Over and over,” she whispered. “I stopped counting.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Renata murmured, absentmindedly crossing herself, whispering “God bless and protect you” under her breath.

I emptied my bag of the rest of my rations—scanty though they were—onto the scarred wooden table that dominated the room. Polina and Renata followed suit, adding some tinned milk and two apples to my meager contribution to the family larder. The little boy’s allegiance was won over in a flash by the paltry offering. He untangled himself from his sister and raced to the table and snatched up an apple before his older sister could enforce rationing. His teeth sunk into the fleshy globe of fruit with an audible crunch. Juice dribbled down his chin from the upturned corners of his mouth.

“Selfish boy,” Heide chided. “Share with your little sister.” She turned to us. “That scamp is Klaus, and the little one is Veronika.”

Klaus nodded and skittered back to the corner, where the delicate girl of five or six years still stood, eyeing us as she would an unreliably trained wolf.

“Please be as careful as you can,” I bade Heide. “I’ll do what I can to bring back some more provisions for you, but I can’t promise anything.”

Heide uncurled from herself and grabbed me in an embrace. I returned her squeeze and pulled back. “This is nothing,” I said. “I wish I could do more.”

“It is everything,” she contradicted. “If all the Soviet women are like you, there may be hope for the future. Go home and civilize your men.”

Renata and Polina gave her their promises for a speedy return as well, and the children even favored us with their sticky kisses before we departed.

Nearly at once I sought out Polkovnik Ozerov, the commanding officer who was my direct superior. I relayed to him Heide’s situation and the danger she and the children faced alone.

“She is one of millions in that situation, Major Soloneva. We cannot protect them all.”

“But we can order the men to act like gentlemen, can we not?” I countered, taking a step closer to his desk.

“We can order whatever we like. It doesn’t mean we will have any success,” he said, heaving a sigh that bordered on the dramatic.

“Are you or are you not their commanding officer?” I spat.

“Watch yourself, Major. This war is not over yet.” He sat up straight in his chair, his expression now hard. “These men have been fighting with barely enough food to survive. They have slept in tents and trenches for the better part of four years. Who am I to deny them some comforts?”

“Comforts? At what cost? The safety of innocent civilians?”

“Soldiers are never the only ones who suffer in war, and no civilian is eager to have one fought on his front porch. It’s a bad business, I’ll admit, but there is nothing to be done.”

I felt the blood pulsing in my face, the heat emanating from my pores. He suddenly became very concerned with the papers on his desk, but I did not allow him to escape my stare.

“If we cannot protect innocent women and children from our own troops, then what was the war for? Would you be so complacent if it were your wife? Your daughters? Your sons being manhandled by the Germans?”

“Complacent, no, Major. I would be enraged. Furious. But know these two things: First, if the Germans had won, make no mistake they would be doing the same to the women and children back at home. Second, I would be just as powerless to prevent it.”

“Coward,” I seethed, and walked out of the makeshift office and back to the barracks, where Polina and Renata awaited my report.

“Please tell me they’re sending the bastards to Siberia,” Renata greeted me. “It would be too good for them, but it would be gratifying all the same.”

“Nothing,” I said, throwing my uniform jacket on my bunk. “They’re doing nothing.”

“So what do we do?” Polina asked. “There must be something.”

“We can take them some rations if we can find enough to spare without raising suspicion. Any more than that and it looks like we’re aiding the enemy and stealing food from the mouths of Russians.”

“So we do nothing?” Polina asked. “Just leave her there for it to happen again?” Her arms were folded tight over her chest, her lips white with anger.

“We can’t exactly stand guard outside her house.” I flopped on my bunk and cast my eyes up at the barracks ceiling. “I’ve taken it up the chain of command. They won’t be bothered keeping their men in line.”

“We can’t just leave Heide like that,” Renata said. “She needs help.”