Instead of questioning us, he was explaining himself. His rank, Matrose, was the lowest for an enlisted seaman in the German navy.
“Certainly,” said Joana. “I won’t take but a minute of your time. Could you tell us where and when registration begins?”
“Ah, yes, that is the question of the day, isn’t it? Registration will begin at oh seven hundred hours on the eastern side of the quay. Of course, as you can see, there are many vessels. But that one”—he pointed to the largest ship in the distance—“that, ladies, is the Wilhelm Gustloff. That is my ship.”
Joana looked carefully at the young man. “Forgive me for asking, but what happened to your hands?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little skin irritation. Sailor’s hazard. A small sacrifice for Germany.”
Eva rolled her eyes.
“I have a salve that will protect your hands and calm the irritation,” said Joana.
The sailor looked down and mumbled something.
“I have medical training,” said Joana. “I used to work in a hospital.”
The sailor’s eyes brightened. “Are you assigned to a ship?”
“No, that’s why I was asking about registration,” said Joana.
“Well then, consider this your day of good fortune, Fr?ulein. I’m waiting for a convoy of hospital trains and field ambulances. We’re boarding our wounded men onto the Gustloff, you see. We have just one doctor. He’s walking this way and I will introduce you.”
This wasn’t Joana’s day of good fortune. It was mine. This guy was a first-class booby. I stepped from behind the Polish girl to make my move, but Joana spoke first.
“Oh, my. Thank you, sailor. But you see, I have some important patients that I’ve been supervising. I’d have to take them with me.”
“Well, if everyone’s papers are in order we can make a request. Wounded soldiers and members of the Party will of course be boarded first. But I’m told that we will be evacuating many fine ladies . . . such as yourself.” He gave Joana a strange smile, his top lip curling over filmy teeth.
Eva turned to me, annoyed. “Is he the best that’s left? I’m sorry, but I’m not putting my future in the hands of this heavy breather.”
alfred
The fates of fortune had found me. I had stumbled upon a qualified nurse just minutes before the trains carrying mutilated men would arrive.
I grabbed the young woman by the sleeve and dragged her through the crowd. “Dr. Richter!” I shouted through the hordes of people. “Dr. Richter! I have your nurse.” I shoved the girl in front of the doctor. She nearly toppled over him.
“Stop right there. What are you doing?” asked the doctor. He offered a hand to steady the nurse.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the girl. “This sailor thought you might need assistance.” She pulled out her papers and handed them to the doctor. “I was a surgeon’s assistant in Insterburg. There’s a recommendation among my papers.”
“A surgeon’s assistant.” I grinned. “Outstanding qualifications.”
The doctor quickly scanned through her papers. “Are you registered yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, sir,” she replied.
“I have a convoy of wounded on the way. We don’t have room for all of them. We need to quickly evaluate their condition. Those who are strong enough to make the voyage will be boarded onto ships.”
“I’m traveling with priority patients,” said the nurse, “including an expectant mother who—”
“Do you have maternity experience?” interrupted the doctor.
“Yes, I do.”
He handed back her papers. “Help me here. We’ll register you for the Gustloff after we sort the wounded.”
“And my patients, sir?” she asked.
The doctor became annoyed. “I don’t have time.” He then looked to me. “You. The one who brought the nurse. What’s your name?”
“Frick, sir.”
“Take her people to registration. Maybe one of the ships has space.”
The nurse removed a stethoscope from her bag and put it around her neck.
The doctor nodded at me. “Thank you, Frick.”
“Happy to be of service.”
I stood tall, pleased. When given the opportunity, Alfred Frick rose to the occasion and seized the path of the hero’s journey.
joana
Part of me felt drawn to the doctor and the opportunity to help the incoming patients. But I did not want to leave our group.
“Go, my dear,” said the shoe poet. “Help others if you can. This young sailor will take us to registration. We’ll come back and find you.”
I knelt down to the wandering boy. “Now, Klaus, you stay close to Poet. Hold his hand.” The boy nodded. I gave him a kiss. He held out his one-eared bunny for a kiss and I obliged.
“Take care of him, Poet,” I said as I hugged the old man. “Make sure you find me before boarding a ship.”
“The clock,” reminded Poet. “We can meet under the clock.”
A panting, soot-covered locomotive appeared in the distance.