Kindred (Genealogical Crime Mystery #5)

He heard talking, and within a minute the footfalls of several men could be heard as they began to unload the vehicle. Johann realised then that he had to climb down before they finished or he would find himself heading out of the camp again, and if that happened, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be caught. He crawled closer to the front of the truck’s roof, away from the activity, and peered out over the bonnet, wondering where to head for once he’d climbed down. He thought his best cover was among the parked vehicles inside the garage block, but then he heard a clanking sound ahead and to his left—metal tinkling on concrete, as if someone had just dropped a wrench. He thought a mechanic must be working on one of the vehicles further along, and he reminded himself to be cautious.

A moment later, the conversation at the back of the truck became suddenly lively, and it seemed to Johann that someone was telling a joke because the men were soon laughing riotously. Johann used the din to mask any sound he made as he swung his legs out over the edge of the roof and lowered himself onto the bonnet. He looked around to make sure the way was still clear, and then he walked ahead at a regular pace, using the truck for cover as he had before, staying in the blind spot of the men unloading it. When he had taken ten paces unchallenged, he ducked into the garages, dropped to the floor and rolled beneath the nearest vehicle, where he planned to wait until the supply truck had gone and the fading sky had turned to black.




Close to an hour passed before Johann ventured out from the vehicle he was hiding beneath. With no moon or stars visible in the overcast sky, only the dim camp lights lit his way as he headed back out from the garage block in the direction the supply truck had brought him in. He kept to the shadows as best he could, which were thankfully plentiful. The complex was busier than he had hoped it would be, but everyone he saw or heard seemed so heavily wrapped up in their duties that he managed to make good progress. He sensed the heightened activity was in no small part related to the news that must surely have reached the camp commandant that the Allies were at Munich’s doorstep.

The darkness that now helped to conceal Johann, however, also hindered his ability to recognise the buildings he had seen on his last visit. Because of this it took him a while to get his bearings. Having left the garage block, which was a small complex of buildings in itself, he crossed the road he had come in by to the trees opposite. Looking back he could see the buildings at the end of the SS troop barracks Volker had previously shown him. Volker’s accommodation then was back towards the administration buildings, across the courtyard by the main gate and past the bakery. The thought of crossing such an open space, which was well lit, did not encourage Johann, but there were few options left open to him.

He kept to the shadows for as long as he could, and when he came to the courtyard, he watched and waited for what he considered to be his best opportunity. Guards came and went, as did several vehicles and SS officers, and seeing those officers come and go with such ease made Johann think he would have to appear as one of them. After all, he was an SS officer himself, and he was in uniform. He just had to hope no one came close enough to see its condition, or to notice the regiment he served with. When the way was clear, he stuck his shoulders back and set out, telling himself to act as if he was supposed to be there. He reached halfway without challenge, but his resolve began to crumble when two guards turned the corner beside the bakery. They were heading straight for him.

Johann wanted to look away and change direction so as to avoid them, but he knew that to do so would only arouse their suspicion, so he kept going, and the guards drew closer. They seemed to straighten their postures as Johann approached. Would they notice the state of his uniform or that he was a member of the Leibstandarte? Would it matter to them if they did? Johann’s heart began to thump as he asked himself these questions, and then they were upon him, no more than a few feet away. Both men saluted.

‘Guten Abend, Obersturmführer,’ one of the guards said, leaving Johann in no doubt that they had at least noticed his rank insignia.

‘Abend,’ Johann replied, his eyes fixed on the other side of the courtyard as they passed one another.

Johann kept going, but he was soon forced to stop.

‘Obersturmführer?’

He turned back. The guard who had wished him a good evening approached.

‘Please excuse my impertinence, Obersturmführer, but you have come from the Eastern Front?’

Johann nodded. Clearly the guard had indeed noticed the state of his uniform as well as his rank, but there was something about the guard’s tone that put Johann at ease.

‘I have a young brother,’ the guard continued. ‘He served alongside the Leibstandarte in the 12th SS Panzer Division Hitlerjugend. I’ve not heard from him in six months and was wondering whether you have any news from the Front? We receive so little information.’

Johann thought the guard sounded desperate to hear whether there was even the slightest chance that his brother might still be alive. He wished he could give the man hope, but how could he know? He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve come from Vienna. If your brother was there, you should pray for him.’

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