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War Is Not Nice for Little Children and Other Living Things

By Cat

Liesl walked down the dark, rainy street. She huddled herself into her coat against the cold mist that kept dripping down her hair onto her neck. She felt that it wasn't really raining hard enough to pull the hood of her coat over her blonde braids yet. She was hopscotching over puddles in the uneven sidewalks.

"Scheisse! Scheisse!" she muttered as she walked. Lately, everything was Scheisse…the cold, the rain, the bombing, the war, the Jungmadelbund. Oh, especially the Jungmadelbund. The female side of the Hitler Youth was especially targeted for Liesl's anger. Every day, after school there was another meeting lasting late into the night. Children were falling asleep in classes, but none of the teachers dared make a complaint about the Youth Groups. Saturdays and Sundays were not excluded either. Rallies, meetings, marches, and campouts were planned for the weekends to keep the children busy and remind them of their glorious heritage and the greatness of their Führer. That left little time for them to be on their own. Tomorrow, Sunday, there was another planned march for the girls.

Liesl stopped next to the ruined synogue and looked at the desecrated cemetery. Liesl first noticed the small grave near the fence one day walking home from school. She asked Rachel, a neighbor about it. Rachel had translated the Hebrew gravestones, including the small one, into German for Liesl. It was of a young girl who had died the year Liesl had been born. She died at the age Liesl was now, twelve. Liesl never knew the family, but felt connected somehow. On spring days she would stop and put flowers on the grave while no one was looking. Now that had been stopped. She could no longer mourn the little girl, nor Rachel, who was also now gone. Forlornly, she looked through the broken bars of the fence, her blue eyes tearing.

"Verzeihst du mich bitte. Please forgive me," Liesl quietly prayed. "Forgive us."

She sighed, "They're doing it to us too. Oh not as bad as you…"

She then nodded in the general direction she thought of as Berlin, "but, HIM, he has now said that Jesus was the bastard of a Jewish whore."

"Maybe that's why things are so bad here," Liesl continued, "he…" again nodding toward Berlin, "is as much saying that God doesn't exist."

"Or maybe he believes that thou shalt have no other gods before me," she thought.

Liesl quickly said a prayer in case her thought was blasphemy, even if it wasn't what she believed. Her religious education had been sketchy at best, but now was almost naught.

"Maybe that's why it's so bad here. Since we're told that God doesn't exist, He has decided that Germany doesn't exist."

It didn't sound odd to her that both Hitler and God were referred to as he. She knew the difference and figured that God would also know. Liesl sighed again and said goodbye then headed for home. It had started to rain harder and she threw up the hood of her coat and was rewarded with a small deluge of cold water going down her back. "Scheisse!"

Laughter came from the dark. "My, my, such an angel with such language!"

Liesl turned to see who it was and a blond young man of sixteen came out of a doorway. "Emile!"

Emile was a former neighbor who she always regarded like a big brother.

"Hey, Liesl," he answered while tweaking one of her braids as he came to walk beside her. He slowed down his long steps to match the younger girl's.

"It's late for you to be out isn't it?"

Liesl glared at him, "The Jungemadelbund meeting has finally broken up. We're to go on a march tomorrow. Must keep fit for the fatherland."

Emile chuckled, "Kinder, Kuche, Kirche."

"Yes, but not Kirche, it's in too much competition with the Führer."

Emile raised an eyebrow, "someone isn't feeling to cheerful tonight. How about I buy you dinner. Herr Braun paid me today with a little extra."

Liesl was about to turn him down but her stomach replied with a loud growl.

Emile smiled.

"I take that as a yes, then. Com'on stubborn," he said, lightly pulling one of her braids again. "We'll go to the Hauserhof."

They were able to get a table near the door in the noisy, crowded restaurant. As Emile was taking Liesl's coat to hang up he frowned and looked at Liesl. "Over there," he gestured with his chin. "At the table in the back. Gestapo has someone new in town."

Liesl looked over to the table Emile meant. There was an older man with black hair, graying at the temples and a dark mustache. His eyes were hidden behind frameless eyeglasses. The man was laughing with a blonde, very shapely, young woman. Liesl thought he didn't look like most Gestapo, but that probably meant he was very good at hiding his true nature.

"Let's go, I suddenly lost my appetite."

Emile grabbed her arm. "No, we don't know why he's here. We're good little Germans aren't we?"

Liesl nodded and watched.

Colonel Robert E. Hogan was getting nervous. His contact was over an hour late, and anytime someone from Gestapo headquarters could come in and find him. His disguise was good, but he wasn't sure how well it would be in front of someone who knew him. He again smoothed his false mustache in place. The woman next to him was also an underground agent and he was doing his best to keep her calm. The Gestapo uniform was chosen because many people tried to avoid him in it and would not approach him while he was talking to the agents. If the information promised wasn't so vital, Hogan would have called off the meeting now. He wasn't sure if he could wait any longer. Finally, Fritz, bartender came over.

"Herr Major, a note was left for you."

Hogan frowned. This couldn't be good news, not at all. He opened the folded note and was correct. The contact had considered the crowded room too dangerous to show himself and would send Hogan word when it would be a better time.

"Just great," Hogan thought to himself. It wasn't as if he could come and go as he pleased from the camp.

"Well, not quite," Hogan smiled as he mentally corrected himself.

Still smiling, he turned to the blonde next to him, "I'm afraid duty calls, Liebchen, and I must go. Come, let me walk you home."

Sighing, the blonde grabbed her wrap and gave it to Hogan to put it on her. Apparently Rose Red was very cautious. This wasn't the first time they had been made to postpone a meeting. But then, that might be the reason Rose Red hadn't yet been caught.

Hogan didn't notice the two Hitler Youth sitting near the door as he passed. They both had their heads down looking very interested in the food on their plates. Just two more blond heads lost in the crowd.

By the time Hogan had gotten back to camp it was late. Kinchloe was the only one still awake. He was at his station at the radio.

"Gee Mom, thought I would just sneak by you?" Hogan chuckled as he traded his Gestapo uniform for his regular air corps uniform.

"Just wanted to make sure you got the car back in one piece," the sergeant joked back. "London called and was anxious about the information Red Rose had."

Hogan sighed, "Red Rose didn't show up. Thought the Hauserhof was too crowded."

He sat on the edge of the table next to the radio and crossed his arms, half-talking to Kinch, half-talking to himself, "The woods are too secluded, Hauserhof too crowded, any other places we mention have something wrong."

Kinch's forehead furrowed, "Do you think Red Rose is taking us for a ride?"

"No," Hogan thought hard. "No, he's been checked out by the underground and he's given us good information before. What he's trying to give us this time must be a lulu, with all the precautions he's taking. Either that, or the Gestapo is getting close to uncovering him."

"Which means, they could eventually get us."

"Yeah."

Hogan glanced at his watch. There was only time to get a few hours sleep before roll call. "Com'on, let's get to bed. Maybe we can think of something else in the morning."