Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part Two Page 39

  All three grinned at his daily repeated outburst, linked their arms in each other’s, and entered smiling.

  “You sit next to me,” he demanded from Isabella, “so I can see how much you eat. It’s the last day I can control you, my little stringbean.” She only pinched his cheek lightly, completely undisturbed, sat down, and let Peter make the proper introduction.

  “You may say we were all wrapped up,” she smiled. “Thanks again for the bandages.”

  Peter smiled again, looking at each American and commenting lightheartedly, “This is, by the way, an everyday occurrence. I hope you didn’t take it seriously.” They all laughed except the two Russian doctors who never understood a word.

  All raved about the great breakfast, with Colonel Niemev commenting, “Although the meals have always been the best, it doesn’t seem to show on certain nurses.” He smirked, looking straight at Isabella who just wrinkled her nose at him.

  “Poor Miss Reinhardt! Being surrounded by men like the Colonel, you sure have to take a lot,” said Sheila, who thought Isabella was one of the most beautiful girls she had ever seen.

  “I really don’t mind, Captain Brown. The General is concerned because his family died of starvation while Leningrad was under siege. And the Colonel loves to tease me because I ride a horse better than he does,” she winked, knowing he would now do the pinching.

  Peter Reinhardt came right to Yuri Niemev’s defense. “Like we men say, let those women have their days of glory, as we know better.”

  “Amen to that one!” said Ian McCain.

  Isabella motioned to her watch and all three women rose with Miss Reinhardt saying sadly that ‘good times just don’t last’ and they have to go back to work.

  “Yes,” Peter remarked. “You stayed exactly four minutes over your permitted half hour.”

  “You heard my uncle, General, now we will be four minutes late for lunch.”

  “That would be nice for our last day together. It’s usually twenty to thirty minutes!” He laughed out loud with a loving look at her. It was so obvious that he loved her like a daughter.

  ∼

  General Gromov now directed his questions at the Americans, but not before thanking them for the badly needed medical supplies. They only nodded kindly. Isabella made her appearance again, informing the present officers that at 12:30, the German prisoners would arrive to take the first beds away.

  “I will tell my troops in the next rooms to help with the wounded and get them on chairs. Excuse me, Officers,” Gromov said and, of course, was followed by his aide, Niemev.

  “Seem to be nice guys,” Ian McCain acknowledged.

  “Very well informed too.”

  “They always surprise you in one way or another. If you go to an opera, it’s full of Russians,” said Peter, adding that many illiterate Austrian farmers considered them beneath them. “True, they arrived in battle fatigues and acted like savages. But it still amazes me how they can be so forgiving and kind. After all, we know what the Germans did, and the Austrians were by no means better.”

  That gave Phil Feingold a chance to speak up. He noticed that all three of his buddies were enamored of the doctor’s niece, whom he found radiant himself. But then again, it was hopeless as he was a Jew.

  “What about us Jews, Doctor? We were persecuted and hurt the most.”

  “You weren’t!” replied Sheila in a hurry, with no sign of regret.

  “Captain Feingold, I know of hardly a single family who has not lost a loved one or suffered in other ways. I always asked myself, for what?” Peter acknowledged.

  “I, too, lost my only brother. He was a bomber pilot and was shot down,” McAllister said somberly, but Feingold was irritated knowing this ‘rich Christian’ never gave a thought about any Jew.

  “In our house,” Doctor Reinhardt continued after telling the Major how sorry he was. “we had a rule never to discuss politics or religion until Hitler’s troops made their entrance. But let me put your mind at ease, since you doubtlessly believe our lives were spared any grief. The first day the Nazis took over, I was taken to Gestapo headquarters, not for long mind you, but I still could hear the screams of many innocent men. Then my niece Isabella’s fiancé was shot down over England in his Messerschmitt. First, he was a wounded prisoner, then killed by German bombs. My sister, her husband, and children were killed in an air attack over Berlin.” Captain Feingold swallowed, visibly moved, while Ian McCain and McAllister looked sad.

  “In the meantime, my brother had to convert his factories from peace to war machinery, risking his life by giving his arriving prisoners extra rations. The Russians were especially mistreated, aside from never receiving a package.”

  “Except us Jews,” Phil Feingold interrupted and was, as always, ignored.

  “By the way, that little boy you see running around trying to help everybody is a Jewish child.” Now Phil’s eyes bulged. “My niece heard whining noises late at night at our other place in Lindenfels. She helped his mother giving birth, came out of breath for my help, and when we returned, found the mother dead. Then we were forced to get rid of the blouse with the Star of David on it. The Catholic nuns in our own hospital helped me with deceiving the doctors and saving the boy. We brought him to my brother’s place, as his servants were more trustworthy, which is the place right where we are all sitting.” Again, faces of dismay, with Sheila wiping tears. “We raised him as our own and baptized him Karl Otto, after two of our finest family members. Soon we found out he was born a deaf-mute, and do you know, Captain Feingold, what we Reinhardts did? We learned their language to communicate and loved this child like our very own.” The two Italian officers applauded, quite moved by now.

  “Is he circumcised?” Captain Feingold asked.

  “What kind of a question is that?” asked Peter, indignant.

  “Because that would make him a Jew. Right now, he is a baptized Christian.”

  “So what?” replied Major McAllister, annoyed.

  “I thought you had more common sense, like your parents had when they left Germany for America in time,” Peter said. His face reddened. “Vienna had fifty-two air attacks, which is very little in comparison to Germany’s cities, but nevertheless, this house could have been bombed like our Opera. If we were dead, but the little boy somehow lived and the Nazis, in trying to help children, may have seen he was a Jew. How long would it have taken them to either kill him or let him die, possibly of starvation? If you are so desperate to find Jews, why don’t you talk to some wounded Russians?” Peter answered finally.

  “You think there are some?” he asked, still embarrassed and perplexed.

  “Ask my niece. She will tell you.”

  Captain Feingold had no choice but to get up and talk to Isabella. Not knowing the answer, she asked a Russian medic who went with him, pointing them out, not speaking a word of English.

  McAllister thought of brave Isabella, hoping she was still available and somehow capable of loving him.

  Fanny Hirt entered with General Gromov and Colonel Niemev. “I will get you more coffee and homemade rolls.”

  “They all said yes,” Peter replied, opening the backlash of her apron. “It’s a bad habit of mine,” he said fondly after receiving a tap on his shoulder. “Fanny was born here. We were so lucky with our servants. Some are in Salzburg with my larger family, but I told you that already.”

  “And why did you stay in Vienna?” asked McAllister.

  “To hide and watch after my countrymen,” Colonel Niemiev said grandly. “That’s why! They had many Russians P.O.W.s in their cellars, which I will show you in time.”

  “We feel really honored to have been here,” General Gromov said, obviously moved. “And I would shoot everyone myself if the Reinhardts would be harmed.”

  “We will do the same, General,” Ian McCain assured him, with the rest of them replying, “You bet.”

  After their second breakfast was gone, both generals left, with Gromov showing them around. Niemiev w
ent from soldier to soldier explaining several things, seeing some for the first time in a clean uniform. Fanny Hirt entered with two huge German shepherds, handing them to ‘her Doctor’.

  “The German P.O.W.s are already waiting outside,” Fanny uttered uneasily. “Colonel Niemev is in charge, but the Germans may ignore his commands.”

  “You can say that again. I better get the Baroness. She needs to sit down, for one thing, and the dogs will make her happy for another,” she smiled.

  “Should we leave?” asked Sheila, looking upset.

  “Oh, no, Miss Brown. The moment the dogs come in, all the Russians come out from other rooms and watch them at gunpoint.”

  “What are they usually up to?” William asked with great interest, while looking at the entering Isabella.

  “Right now, we don’t know, but they know they will be leaving for Russia once their work is finished, so won’t take any chances. Isabella responded very calmly and somehow found herself looking at the ‘handsome devil’ Fanny pointed out, never revealing a word about the pantry. The dogs greeted Isabella by licking her cheeks. “Alright girls, settle down. I love you both. Now lay down,” she commanded and down they went.

  “Those dogs are the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen,” McAllister remarked honestly. Sheila Brown stated that she was always scared of those types of dogs, including Dobermans.

  “Both dogs are highly trained and don’t even hurt our cat.”

  “With so many strangers coming in day and night we would be in lots of trouble,” Peter replied.

  “Isabella, why don’t you go to each one and let them smell their hands.”

  “Good idea. By the way, these dogs play ball with the wounded Russians every evening. That should tell you something.”

  “What are their names?” asked Brad Torreli.

  “Ella and Bella.”

  “Why not males?” Joel Respini joined in.

  “Because females don’t fight,” Isabella laughed.

  “Over me they do,” Brad said, returning her laugh.

  “For cigarettes or chewing gum?” Isabella bit her lips, teasing him.

  “Over my body,” he smiled proudly.

  “Give me a break!” Sheila replied quickly. “She’s seen better ones.”

  “Not like mine,” he said triumphantly.

  “Dear Captain Torreli, I assist my uncle on the operating table, and for us it’s only a matter of how much we can help. The bodies never matter. It’s almost like on an assembly line.” Peter Reinhardt had an amusing grin on his face, knowing Isabella would get the best of him in the long run.

  “Maybe for you, Miss Reinhardt, but let me tell you, when we slept temporarily in trains until we found quarters, those women crawled through our windows! Right Joel?”

  “So what?” he replied.

  “Those women are the same ones who crawled in anyone’s bed or, as in your case, wagons. We have a name for them, but I refrain from saying it. Just watch out for syphilis, Captain Torreli. We are swamped with cases in many hospitals.” He just looked at her and spoke to Joel in Italian.

  “English, please, you two spaghetti clowns,” an irritated Sheila Brown scolded. “And you are ever so right, Miss Reinhardt. But Brad is highly exaggerating.”

  “Possibly.” Then she turned to both Captains and responded in Italian, once more surprising them.

  Now Peter Reinhardt laughed heartily, joined by the rest while watching their astonished faces.

  “My niece was born and raised in Switzerland, the first fifteen years in the Italian part on top of that. Her late father was a Swiss pathologist and died the day she was born.”

  “How?” asked Sheila.

  “By racing home with a big bouquet of flowers and hitting a lamppost.”

  “So sorry to hear that,” said Brad and Joel.

  “Isabella’s mother was a widow for fifteen years before she married my brother in 1938. Until then, her name was Isabella Rosatti. Very Italian I would say,” Peter finalized.

  “Then why do all the servants call her ‘Baroness’?” Sheila had to know at the moment.

  “Her mother came from a long line of nobility dating back to the sixteenth century. As for the servants? They love titles no matter how poor their master might be.”

  Now Colonel Niemev and the Germans came in the hallway. Isabella got up, holding each dog by their chains, and gave the P.O.W.s orders on what had to be done. They only gave her a look of indifference without saying a word. Dr. Leonova came in and told Isabella about all the papers that needed the Doctor’s signature, otherwise everyone was ready.

  Sheila, hearing her talking in Russian, asked eagerly, “How many languages do you speak?”

  “One or two,” she smiled, when both Generals returned from their excursion of Reinhardt’s place.

  I thought the Germans came later?” Ian McCain asked, also noticing the loose running shepherds. “Any reasons or troubles?”

  “No,” Peter replied in honesty.

  ∼

  I called on our six reliable Scotsmen to be here at 1:30 to give those poor departing souls a nice send off,” Peter addressed the Americans and two Russians. Then, looking at the pleased Americans he continued. “They came almost weekly to entertain the wounded Russians.”

  “Bagpipes?” Ian McCain asked, looking at McAllister.

  “Bagpipes, harmonicas, and singing. What good times we had!”

  Now they saw the Russian guards pointing their rifles at each P.O.W. The Germans worked fast and hard, never giving a glance at anyone except their own Sergeant. And he gave the appearance that they had won the war, still being arrogant to the boot.

  “Strange how they all had almost the same facial features. It’s their inbreeding,” William thought while watching the Russians, as they reacted with a sort of cow or sheep-like obedience. He also watched the dressed up, wounded soldiers who had their crutches leaning on the antique French chairs. The Reinhardts had given them those while their beds were disappearing fast in front of them. Not one Russian had a hateful look on their war-ravaged faces, and many were toothless when they smiled. Yet those Germans burned their villages without giving reasons except ‘Adolf Hitler’s command’. He had heard about the many sides of them while in Vienna. From a mean Rottweiler when drunk, to a little kitten when sober. Now the Americans watched the dividing painted panel being folded to several large pieces, carried upstairs by two tall, skinny, but still handsome P.O.W.s. They saw that there was another row of beds which now became visible. Isabella remarked, in her calm manner, that it was at the suggestion of the Russian medics to divide them. One side could walk on crutches, the back side was worse off. They had either no legs or no arms.

  “And possibly no families,” Peter added, sadly.

  “What are you going to do with them?” Ian McCain wanted to know.

  “They will be carried to our own Reinhardt hospital and wait for their artificial limbs to be made. Then they have to be taught to walk,” he answered grimly.

  There were now five Americans with their backs towards two large windows with General Gromov at the end facing Ian McCain. On Gromov’s lap sat the deaf-mute, little Karl, which was also a daily occurrence. Then came Colonel Niemev, both Russian doctors, Peter, and Isabella next to the General, across from Sheila Brown and McAllister, who was by now so much in love that nothing else around him mattered, not even the arrival of his family that very evening.

  “Apple strudel coming up,” Fanny announced cheerfully.

  McAllister’s face lit up. Somehow, he felt she made it for him as they talked about his favorite dessert. “You know how to make people feel good,” he replied while giving her a wink.

  Isabella, sitting almost across from him facing Sheila, wondered seriously if they had had an affair. She sincerely hoped not, as she was falling in love with him. “But then again, how many girls are waiting at home,” she thought, and ignored him as always.

  With the work almost done by the P.O.W
.s, Peter proposed to leave the room and watch the Scotsmen sing and play their music.

  “Not only that, but we give those soldiers a well-deserved salute,” Ian McCain replied to Peter. “But first, I want those German bastards out. They are still humming their Nazi songs to get the best of us.” They marched out smiling and sang, “Today we own Germany, tomorrow the whole wide world.”

  “The nerve of them!” said a furious Ian McCain.

  “They’ll pay for it dearly,” replied Niemev, and no one doubted him. “We captured them right on St. Stephan’s Cathedral, setting it on fire!” Gromov said in disgust. “I don’t believe in God … but in Justice.”

  “Well that makes two,” Ian McCain thought, when Isabella shrieked “OUCH” with the Russians and Peter watching a body falling down.

  “One German less,” Peter smiled. “I guess he was hiding on the last floor until the rest were gone. In their spiteful mood they forgot all about him.” Sheila made a shivering shrug.

  “You don’t have to turn around,” Isabella said kindly. “For us it’s nothing new.”

  “My God, Miss Reinhardt, for someone so young you sure have seen a lot.”

  “You forgot to say bodies,” Isabella laughed, winking at Brad and Joel.

  “No, Miss Brown, in comparison to most people we had a very good life. Right, Uncle Peter?”

  “Very, very good I would say.” He smiled.

  Captain Feingold apologized for thinking the Reinhardts never mentioned their own family, but heard from a Russian how much risk they took in saving many lives. Both only smiled, as it was the most normal thing to do.

  “You speak Russian?” asked Colonel Niemev.

  “No, Hebrew, Colonel, and I was surprised that barely anyone spoke it.”

  “It’s a religion and we stated previously we don’t believe in God.”

  There was a stillness in the room and the loud and happy arriving Scotsmen saved the somber situation. No one wanted to deny being a religious person, but no one wanted to hurt those two good officers either. Gromov and Niemev fought in Stalingrad, the General told Ian McCain while getting the tour of the house. Why condemn the Russian who suffered so much and fought in a revolution on top of it? He also lost all of his family. Why should he have faith?