The Haigerloch Project

Dirk took it. He placed it on the table for Sig to see Together they made a show of going over it, item by item. Dirk didn't give a damn how badly the old bastard was gouging them. The man had not the slightest idea of his real contribution….

Suddenly he stiffened.

From outside came the unmistakable sound of a motor vehicle approaching on the road.

For a moment everyone in the room remained frozen.

It seemed that the vehicle would pass — when it suddenly stopped.

The four people in the Bauernstube hardly breathed.

Suddenly the motor started up again. The sound seemed abnormally loud as they heard it turn into the farmyard.

“Quick,” Dirk whispered. “Hide the food!” With surprisingly fast reaction Frau Eichler scooped up the sausages, the bread and butter and swept them into a deep drawer in the table. She grabbed the basket of eggs and made for a cupboard gaily painted with flowers.

Dirk turned to Eichler.

“It might be best, Herr Ortsbauernführer, for us all,” he said gravely, “if we were not found here with you at this hour.” He looked soberly at the farmer. “Explanations — however reasonable — are always difficult.”

Eichler nodded.

“This way,” he said.

Dirk and Sig grabbed their rucksacks. Eichler hurried them toward a door. He flung it open.

“In there,” he breathed. “In the storeroom.”

Quickly Dirk and Sig entered the cramped and cluttered storeroom. Eichler was closing the door behind them when there was a sudden, loud banging on the front door.

“Aufmachen! Feldgendarmerie!” a deep voice shouted. “Open up! Military Police!”

Dirk had a last glimpse of Frau Eichler quickly removing the extra mugs and schnapps glasses from the table. Good woman, he thought as the door snapped shut, snuffing out the last slit of light. He thought of Erika. Where was she? This hastily chosen hiding place would become a trap — if the girl had given them away….

He heard the front door being opened. He strained to listen. The storeroom was totally dark; the door thick. He was aware of Sig close behind him, standing utterly still and stiff. Muffled voices came through the heavy wooden door.

“Guten Morgen—Good morning. Heil Hitler!” A strange voice.

Eichler answering. “Heil Hitler!” I am Ortsbauernführer Gerhard Eichler. What do you want?”

“Beg your pardon, Herr Ortsbauernführer. We have orders to search for enemy soldiers.”

“Enemy soldiers? Here?”

“There has been an attack. Across the river. They were driven back.”

“Yes. We heard the shooting. What—” Eichler's voice became inaudible. Dirk strained to hear. The other voice said a few words. He could not make them out. He could feel the sweat trickle down his sides from his armpits. Speak up, dammit!

“—of the enemy soldiers may have escaped. There are patrols out. Looking for them. We saw your lights on, Herr Ortsbauernführer. We thought—”

“The shooting woke us up.” It was Eichler interrupting. He sounded impatient. “I am Ortsbauernführer here. I felt it my duty to be ready to—”

The scrape of a stool on the floor drowned out the last few words.

“Of course, Herr Ortsbauernführer May we—”

“Would you and your men like a cup of hot coffee, Herr Obergefreiter? Ersatz, of course” It was the woman.

“Bitte, gnädige Frau—yes, thank you, Lady.”

Cup noises. Kettle noises…

Where the hell was the girl?

“You have not noticed anything out of the usual, have you, Herr Ortsbauernführer?” It was the corporal.

“Unusual?”

There was a pause.

What the hell is he waiting for? Tell him no, for crissake!

“No,” Eichler drawled. “Nothing — unusual…”

“Gerhard.” It was Frau Eichler. “Perhaps you should tell the corporal. About the two men.”

Dirk froze. He more sensed than heard Sig draw in his breath sharply.

“Ach, ja!” It was Eichler. “Of course. We stopped two men. Down by the road shrine. Where my men are watching even now. We checked them out. They were from Lahr — and they have gone on.”

“Thank you, Herr Ortsbauernführer. We talked to your men. That is what they told us.”

The sudden noise of a door opening.

Shit! Erika walking in with bicycle tires and tubes! Even Eichler couldn't get out of that one — however much he wanted to hang on to his newfound suckers….

“No one on the grounds.” A new voice.

“Good.”

“Where do you go now, Herr Obergefreiter? If you do not know the area well, perhaps I — as an official — can be of help?” It was Eichler.

Sounds of rustling papers.

“Hugsweier.”

“Ach, ja, Hugsweier. You turn left. Just outside the village. There is a sign. Three kilometers. You cannot miss it.”

“Thank you, Herr Ortsbauernführer. And thank you for the coffee, gnädtge Frau. Heil Hitler!”

“Heil Hitler!”

The front door opening and closing… The faint sounds of a motor vehicle starting up — and driving away.