by Silent Draco
Part II
Johannes blinked as they neared her little hut. There was a simple lean-to for a woodshed, but nearby was a small cottage. The babushka chuckled, “well, hut is full with many, and hard to stretch, da? Trade some tea, some coffee, make simples for workers. Small hut appears like Five Year Plan. You will please use as my guests, my blessing.” Johannes bowed formally, to a penetrating look from Hilda. “I thank you for guest gift, for myself and family. Your blessing is much respected. Dear, let us put our things away first, then we shall have tea and visit.” Hilda hissed at him as they entered the cottage, “What! You were not that polite and respectful to my mother. What is this?” Johannes set their things up on some shelves, tucked the bags in a corner, then said calmly, “After the boys are asleep. I saved her life somewhere nearby – twice – and she regards me as a grandson; foolish, but a good boy. Therefore, you and our boys are considered as family, and we are in a place where family means life or death.”
Over tea, the adults talked while the boys explored odd crannies of the hut. They were excited by the collections of bones, animal skulls, and odd stones and twigs in corners, until sent out to find sticks of a fist’s size. “Come boys, sit and have tea and biscuits with Babushka,” Johannes called later. “Is polite, and this is the last of her tin of Keemun.” Turning to her, he smiled and said, “It is my honor to bring you a present, Babushka. More of the strong teas – Keemun, Caravan, Darjeeling, and some sealed sachets of the coffee which Father Grigor;” her face fell; “ah, Father Istvan likes on occasion. Ach, I recall your note. He was good man, but the wars aged him out of time..” The boys looked at her with wide eyes, “are you Papa’s Uma? Really? We don’t know many from the Ost lands,” they said wistfully. She smiled and tousled their hair, saying “your Papa is good man, I met him as boy not much older than you. I called him grandson and claim him as one … here I am lone, have no family. Your Papa saved my life; is why I call him grandson.”
The boys perked up, looking at Johannes with hero-worship. “I hoped to wait a bit longer, boys. It was … 1941, during the great drive to the east, when I met Her. My company was moving …” They boys stared with huge eyes as he slowly told the tale of Soviet fire and engagement, his own eyes looking into his tea at haunted days, speaking slowly. Hilda also looked with surprise and terror, alarmed at how close she’d come to never meeting him. “… and after the last mortar bombs and the bullets died away, comrades found us, went for treatment and … action questioning. Later … released to hospital. Saw babushka once at ambulance cart. She said, ‘All is well, all will be well. You are good boy. Remember Babushka.’ She gave me a special stone on a necklace. I remembered, and sent messages to nearby village when I could.”
Standing and making his manners, Johannes thanked her for hearth and tea and said goodnight, moving into the evening air. After tucking their boys in with prayers, on pallets near the small, warm fire, Hilda waited for their breathing to get regular and relax into sleep. She then asked Johannes for the rest of the story, the parts not told to the boys. “Ja; Hilda, will bring nightmare.” He filled in more. “Questioning? I was arrested, charged with aiding the enemy – the babushka.” Hilda’s eyebrows shot up, hinting for more. “I wrote out the after-action statement, then added what I could remember. The judge from Regiment, he was angry. Adjutant was angry. They found me guilty of … found me guilty, s-sentence to commander. Three hours later, the surgeon came into tent, looked very pale. Checked my wounds, then said verdict was overturned, not guilty, no punishment, ordered to rear for convalescence. He said again, Not Guilty, stared off into the corner, and shivered. Next day I was loaded into ambulance cart with three others, toward rear. Babushka … appeared near ambulance, departed as surgeon came to make final check. Surgeon saw her from corner of his eye, and jumped. Turned pale, pinned paperwork to me, and scurried away, the Surgeon-Major.”
Hilda looked up with softer eyes, nut poked hard, with a whispered “Fool! Reckless! You could … I knew you were good man, but a hero? Saving an old woman too, when …” She smiled shyly, noting the sleeping boys, and murmured, “well, a quiet reward for my brave man, my hero?”
Next morning, the old woman asked Johannes to take the boys and her small cart over to a nearby farm. “Farmer caught a saboteur, about 80 kilos, trying to wreck the grain harvest of Glorious Soviet Union. He promised a good haunch from the buck, now hung enough.” She laughed, bidding them to walk and enjoy the cool air, “Nie, Hilda and I will have time to visit and chat as ladies do. Boys, shoo!”
To Be Continued…
Thank you!