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Chapter XLIV
The racket from interior of the prison was even more deafening than usual, partly because of the French leaving, partly because of the prisoner’s anticipation at such as an event. Not for the first time, Johann was thankful that Captain de Gaulle had granted him a solitary cell.
He hadn’t given the Frenchman much information, it seemed that what he was telling him was merely a confirmation of what the Captain had already suspected, but Johann still had his doubts as to whether or not he had done the right thing. Had he been willing to die for the cause of the revolution? He supposed so, but when it had come to it hadn’t taken much for him to start talking, only an acknowledgement that the French were as terrified of the Red Front as the boss had intended for them to be.
Johann had no idea what Hitler was up to now, he could be in the next cell to him, or he could be about to storm into the prison to murder him for treachery to the cause. It was hard to gain a succinct picture of the outside world from a jail cell, all he knew was that the French were leaving, and who would replace them was anyone’s guess.
It was clear that Johann’s own fate was very much in the balance, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether or not it might be better for a German prison warden to replace his French captors rather than one of his own comrades, one of whom might have been able to accuse him of treachery. Then again, a few months in captivity had been long enough for him.
The noise outside the cell was overwhelmed by the clank of his own door being opened, a stern faced guard glowered at Johann, before stepping aside to reveal the French officer that had spared his life. Johann rose to greet him, the guard moved to stop him before de Gaulle, almost unflinchingly, ordered the man not to move.
“We’re leaving now.” The officer was only stating the obvious but the words made Johann shiver.
“We?”
“Am I to accompany you?” Johann was genuinely curious, perhaps the Frenchman wanted him as a long-term agent. The officer simply shook his head towards him and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Why would I take you to France when you can cause so much trouble here?” The grip on his shoulder increased as de Gaulle’s eyes narrowed.
“I will be in touch.”
With that the French officer made his way out, followed by the guard, who did not bother to lock the door. Johann poked his head out to see a row of emptying cells. It seemed as if the French were eager to release as many criminals as possible, he guessed that the act was more cynical than humanitarian. After all, they had shot everyone who had actually done them real damage.
Apart from himself.
Without being stopped, he walked through the corridors and into the courtyard, it’s gates now left hanging open as rows of his former inmates walked off, the French guards that were left merely watching the exodus. They took no more interest in Johann than in anyone else, as he also walked out into the free world.
He really knew what freedom meant now, and he wasn’t sure he had any interest in burning everything down any longer. The last four years of his life had been exhilarating, but where had it gotten him? Staring in the face of his dead comrades, hearing the screams of those he had once heard laugh, before being thrown into a damp cell, being told that he had the choice between death and treachery. He would never thank Captain de Gaulle but at the very least the Frenchman had given him a good kick up the arse. It was a feeling of clarity that coursed through him, as he walked out of the prison gates, and even as he saw the man that he knew must be waiting for him.
Freder was wearing the same coat and hat that he had been wearing, and for a moment Johann feared that he would be spotted by one of the French guards, only to remember that the French were now only interested in leaving. The French tricolour was gone from the prison roof, the German tricolour now fluttered once again. Johann couldn’t help but smile, it hadn’t been for nothing, even if it was time to move on.
He wondered if Freder would agree.
“Glad to see you’re still alive,” he murmured dismissively, “a lot of people didn’t leave that prison. What was your secret?”
Johann shuddered for a moment, how could they possibly have known? Unless de Gaulle had decided that he would leave the bother of killing him to the Red Front?
“They didn’t catch me in any violent act,” Johann summarised quickly, “I was grabbing myself some breakfast at the time and got flung in for taking some fat bastard’s rolls.”
“Imagine throwing a man in jail for months on end,” Freder scoffed, “vindictive pieces of shit!” Johann exhaled slowly, it appeared that his story had worked on his comrade. Another betrayal.
“What matters is that I’m out now, I hope that the boss is cooking something up whilst this is all going on. After the Frenchies have gone we’ll be able to take the entire region within a matter of days. It’ll be 1920 all over again!” Johann wasn’t as enthusiastic about this notion as he expressed, but knowing Hitler he would already be drilling this line into his men.
“The boss is...gone away, actually, he’s told us to lie low for the moment, and get out of the Ruhr. Apparently he wasn’t confident in our ability to launch a national uprising at the moment.”
“Didn’t he say that he wanted to rise up in Germany after we’d cleared out the French?”
“The French are leaving because the Americans bribed them into it and their Weimar lackeys gave them everything they wanted originally, this isn’t quite our victory comrade.”
“But still…” Johann could see the logic of it, but also that anger, the determination in those eyes that were as grizzled as the man’s beard. How could such a man now be stressing restraint?
“Look,” Freder interrupted, “we know that he can organise well and inspire the men, but I’m not going to pretend that I know how his mind works. If you want explanations, ask him when he get to Hamburg.”
“Hamburg?”
“He wants us in Hamburg, I’m here to take you to the station.” Johann felt a twist in his stomach at that.
He was barely out of prison and once again his life was no longer his own.
---
I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas!
And the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul: neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things common.
~ Acts 4:32
~ Acts 4:32
The racket from interior of the prison was even more deafening than usual, partly because of the French leaving, partly because of the prisoner’s anticipation at such as an event. Not for the first time, Johann was thankful that Captain de Gaulle had granted him a solitary cell.
He hadn’t given the Frenchman much information, it seemed that what he was telling him was merely a confirmation of what the Captain had already suspected, but Johann still had his doubts as to whether or not he had done the right thing. Had he been willing to die for the cause of the revolution? He supposed so, but when it had come to it hadn’t taken much for him to start talking, only an acknowledgement that the French were as terrified of the Red Front as the boss had intended for them to be.
Johann had no idea what Hitler was up to now, he could be in the next cell to him, or he could be about to storm into the prison to murder him for treachery to the cause. It was hard to gain a succinct picture of the outside world from a jail cell, all he knew was that the French were leaving, and who would replace them was anyone’s guess.
It was clear that Johann’s own fate was very much in the balance, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether or not it might be better for a German prison warden to replace his French captors rather than one of his own comrades, one of whom might have been able to accuse him of treachery. Then again, a few months in captivity had been long enough for him.
The noise outside the cell was overwhelmed by the clank of his own door being opened, a stern faced guard glowered at Johann, before stepping aside to reveal the French officer that had spared his life. Johann rose to greet him, the guard moved to stop him before de Gaulle, almost unflinchingly, ordered the man not to move.
“We’re leaving now.” The officer was only stating the obvious but the words made Johann shiver.
“We?”
“Am I to accompany you?” Johann was genuinely curious, perhaps the Frenchman wanted him as a long-term agent. The officer simply shook his head towards him and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Why would I take you to France when you can cause so much trouble here?” The grip on his shoulder increased as de Gaulle’s eyes narrowed.
“I will be in touch.”
With that the French officer made his way out, followed by the guard, who did not bother to lock the door. Johann poked his head out to see a row of emptying cells. It seemed as if the French were eager to release as many criminals as possible, he guessed that the act was more cynical than humanitarian. After all, they had shot everyone who had actually done them real damage.
Apart from himself.
Without being stopped, he walked through the corridors and into the courtyard, it’s gates now left hanging open as rows of his former inmates walked off, the French guards that were left merely watching the exodus. They took no more interest in Johann than in anyone else, as he also walked out into the free world.
He really knew what freedom meant now, and he wasn’t sure he had any interest in burning everything down any longer. The last four years of his life had been exhilarating, but where had it gotten him? Staring in the face of his dead comrades, hearing the screams of those he had once heard laugh, before being thrown into a damp cell, being told that he had the choice between death and treachery. He would never thank Captain de Gaulle but at the very least the Frenchman had given him a good kick up the arse. It was a feeling of clarity that coursed through him, as he walked out of the prison gates, and even as he saw the man that he knew must be waiting for him.
Freder was wearing the same coat and hat that he had been wearing, and for a moment Johann feared that he would be spotted by one of the French guards, only to remember that the French were now only interested in leaving. The French tricolour was gone from the prison roof, the German tricolour now fluttered once again. Johann couldn’t help but smile, it hadn’t been for nothing, even if it was time to move on.
He wondered if Freder would agree.
“Glad to see you’re still alive,” he murmured dismissively, “a lot of people didn’t leave that prison. What was your secret?”
Johann shuddered for a moment, how could they possibly have known? Unless de Gaulle had decided that he would leave the bother of killing him to the Red Front?
“They didn’t catch me in any violent act,” Johann summarised quickly, “I was grabbing myself some breakfast at the time and got flung in for taking some fat bastard’s rolls.”
“Imagine throwing a man in jail for months on end,” Freder scoffed, “vindictive pieces of shit!” Johann exhaled slowly, it appeared that his story had worked on his comrade. Another betrayal.
“What matters is that I’m out now, I hope that the boss is cooking something up whilst this is all going on. After the Frenchies have gone we’ll be able to take the entire region within a matter of days. It’ll be 1920 all over again!” Johann wasn’t as enthusiastic about this notion as he expressed, but knowing Hitler he would already be drilling this line into his men.
“The boss is...gone away, actually, he’s told us to lie low for the moment, and get out of the Ruhr. Apparently he wasn’t confident in our ability to launch a national uprising at the moment.”
“Didn’t he say that he wanted to rise up in Germany after we’d cleared out the French?”
“The French are leaving because the Americans bribed them into it and their Weimar lackeys gave them everything they wanted originally, this isn’t quite our victory comrade.”
“But still…” Johann could see the logic of it, but also that anger, the determination in those eyes that were as grizzled as the man’s beard. How could such a man now be stressing restraint?
“Look,” Freder interrupted, “we know that he can organise well and inspire the men, but I’m not going to pretend that I know how his mind works. If you want explanations, ask him when he get to Hamburg.”
“Hamburg?”
“He wants us in Hamburg, I’m here to take you to the station.” Johann felt a twist in his stomach at that.
He was barely out of prison and once again his life was no longer his own.
---
I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas!
- The Red
- Word Count: 1.2k