The Devil's Blessing Read Free

said, in his booming voice.
    “Better, now that you’re here,” Ingersleben said. Their arms and smiles didn’t release for what seemed a small eternity to everyone who watched. Though they were the center of attention right then, they were carrying themselves like they were the only people on earth. After a moment, Ingersleben seemed to come out of his daze.
    “Come,” Ingersleben said, “let us get you some coffee and something to eat. I want to hear everything you have to say about your journey.”
    As they turned and walked away, it was as if Ingersleben suddenly remembered that there were other people around. “Excuse me,” he said, “I’ve lost my manners. This is Peter Haas. Oberfeldwebel Peter Haas.” Ingersleben put an emphasis on Haas’s rank.
    It worked.

Chapter Two

    Unteroffizier Erich Ingersleben's tent was luxurious compared to what the soldiers had. They were trapped inside their small, makeshift tents, more blankets on sticks than anything. Most of the men had built their tents in or near the gathering of trees, giving them a bit of shelter, if not from the cold then at least from the wind. At least it was better than the Russians had. They had no other option than to lay on top of each other. Many of the Germans quite enjoyed that. These Russians were made to act almost like homosexuals. The men joked that that would give them two reasons to be shot: for being gay and being Russian. The only question to the Germans was which was worse.
    The table was nothing more than a huge wooden spool set to its side, and the chairs were two weapons crates. In the corner was a barely noticeable bed, a thin mattress atop a small stack of pine needles. Not even he, an Unteroffizier, had a pillow.
    The rest of the tent was filled with little things, like clothes and some supplies that needed sheltering. No one was safe from work now, not even those in charge. In fact, the once envious job of being in command was now the most perilous. As the war waged on and some commanders thought Germany would fall, it was those deserting commanders being ordered shot by the Reich.
    “Have a seat,” Ingersleben said, pointing to the only table inside the tent.“How are they?” Oberfeldwebel Haas asked.
    “The men?” Ingersleben responded. “As good as can be in a time of war.”
    This produced a nod from Haas. “And the others?”
    “The prisoners?” Ingersleben asked. “They’re the same. Just like last week and the week before that. You know, one thing is funny,” Ingersleben said, as he put a finger to his lip. “It’s been a while since one has died.”
    “Really? And how is that funny?”
    “Well,” Ingersleben began as he sipped on his coffee, “when we first got them, they were dying left and right. You heard about the bets the men have, yes?”
    Haas shook his head no. Ingersleben explained that the men had starting making bets as to who would die next and when one would die. Since they had nothing to give, one of the men had a notebook, taking notes of how much money each man would owe the other once Germany had won the war and they were all home safely in their warm beds.
    Josef Wernher had even shot a prisoner on the day he'd chosen that one would die. It had brought a good laugh to everyone that day, but in the end, he was cheating. But there really was no harm. After all, no real money was lost, and a Russian had died, so something good had come out of the harmless joke.
    Ingersleben continued, “Well, it has now been eleven days since any of them have died. Eleven! I mean, we have been feeding them the bare minimum, but still, even when we were feeding them more, they were still dying. Not anymore.”
    “It’s getting warmer,” Haas retorted.
    “It is getting warmer,” Ingersleben admitted, “but if this is warm, I don’t want to know what cold is.”
    They exchanged a grin.
    “And this concerns you? That they—” Haas said, motioning outside the tent—“aren’t dying? Are you