The arm tattoo had betrayed both him and his likely motivation in short order.
“We’ve lost more friends, Cherie. Will it ever stop?”
The statement was about as un-Anne-Marie-like Knocke had ever heard.
Then he remembered.
A woman carrying a child has other influences on her deportment; ones that involve protecting and nurturing the life in her belly and evaluating the world she will be bringing it in to.
“Our child is fine?”
“Yes, Cherie. All’s well in here.”
She made great play of rubbing her hands over a belly that still had to make show of her condition.
“Anyway, I’ll make us dinner. Will you get some more wood please, Ernst?”
“Of course.”
They kissed like young lovers and went about their chores.
Anne-Marie busied herself in the large kitchen of the farmhouse that the Legion had refurbished for their few days of peace, but still heard the flick of a lighter as her husband took his simple pleasures outside before bringing in the wood for the fire.
She also heard the sound of a vehicle approaching and shouts of consternation from the armed legionnaires who stood watch over their commander and his new wife.
Having been uncharacteristically unarmed during the wedding, she now had a weapon close to hand, so she grabbed it and moved quickly to the front door, only to see the recently splinted Haefali and two of his men in agitated conversation with Knocke.
Whatever she was watching, Anne-Marie realised that something was very wrong, and she tensed instinctively, scanning around her, ready to act in a second.
All of a sudden the scene in front of her changed to one of calm resignation?… almost solemn?… almost…?
‘Georges?’
Knocke slapped Haefali’s shoulder softly and turned to his wife.
No words were needed.
She could see it writ large cross his face… across Haefali’s face… in their eyes… and in the way they walked.
“No!”
Ernst held out his arms as he approached her and she fell into them, sobbing inconsolably.
The guard legionnaires watched in awe as the iron maiden came apart in her grief, and then joined her in their own way when they were told of De Walle’s death.
He had not been a legionnaire, but he was a popular man who had stood his ground alongside them during some difficult times.
“Come inside, Albrecht. Join us.”
Anne-Marie composed herself and led the two men inside, where they sat down and learned of what had happened, and drank to the memory of her mentor and friend.
“He was found dead on the doctor’s round.”
Anne-Marie took a good sip of the schnapps.
“When we left he was in pain, but there was no clue… we had no idea that he could just… well… go.”
“He had some morphine before the end so…”
“Yes, we saw the nurse. She postponed giving it because we were there. So we left quickly to let him have his medication without delay.”
Knocke stood by the fire, making a study of positioning the latest logs just so, simply to cover his feelings of loss.
Whilst the sudden void inside surprised him, having known the irascible Belgian for under two years, he accepted it for what it was, as he had come to genuinely like the man, and to value his presence and friendship.
He listened in on the conversation as he jiggled the final piece of wood into place.
“The doctor assures me he felt no pain… that he simply drifted off.”
“But why? The same damn doctor said he would be fine… possibly hobble a bit, but that he would survive.”
Haefali shrugged.
“I don’t know, Anne-Marie, really I don’t. Except I’ve seen it before. Men who seemed to recover from wounds, but who simply just died when all seemed well. It happens.”
Knocke joined in.
“Yes, it does, and we should always be prepared for it. This time we dared to hope.”
He reached for the schnapps bottle and filled each glass in turn.
“So my darling… Albrecht… let us drink to our comrades and friends.”
He raised the glass in turn as he named those who had perished on their wedding day, and that very afternoon.
They acknowledged in turn and, when Georges de Walle’s name was mentioned, drained each glass to the bottom.
“I’ll speak to the nurse when I get a chance. See what more she can tell us.”
Knocke acknowledged his wife’s words and sat down in one of the comfy chairs, rather more heavily than he intended, a sign of both the mental strain and his physical tiredness.
He had been on the go virtually every hour since the bomb had exploded. Visiting the wounded, writing letters to the relations of those who died, or in the case of the Polish casualties, visiting the next of kin in their humble homes.
The others gravitated towards seats surrounding the fire, which drew their eyes as they sat in silence, reflecting on the weekend’s events.
Haefali refilled their glasses and sat down again, aware he was sat with a newly married couple on their honeymoon whilst being aware that he was there without intrusion, sharing their grief and silence like the friend he was.
Knocke shifted in his seat and laughed softly.
“Ernst?”
“I was just thinking, Albrecht. If this is the peace, what would the war be like?”
“Noisier.”
They smiled and clinked their glasses in salute.
Knocke raised his to his wife, whilst she exchanged toasts with the Swiss.
She sipped the fiery liquid carefully as she recalled a quote from Aristophanes.
Anne-Marie decided to share and held her glass out for a final toast.
“A quote I just remembered, from Aristophanes, the Greek poet.”
She had their full attention.
“Our lost friends are not dead, but gone before, advanced a stage or two upon that road, which we must travel in the steps they trod.”
She let the words settle in their minds before raising her glass high.
“To our friends who’ve gone before.”
Three voices joined in unison.
“To our friends who’ve gone before!”
Chapter 183 – THE TEST
Triumphant science and technology are only at the threshold of man’s command over sources of energy so stupendous that, if used for military purposes, they can wipe out our entire civilization.
1202 hrs, Monday, 6th January 1947, the Black Sea, 80 kilometres southwest of Sochi, USSR.
“Do you want to abandon the test, Commander?”
“No. We continue… we must continue.”
Nobukiyo and Kalinin watched as the badly injured seaman was taken below, his shattered and mangled arms flopping around uncontrollably as the medical crew attempted to get him out of the way of the deck crew.
Using a megaphone, Nobukiyo shouted his orders.
“Restore the equipment to stowage… prepare to run the test again in ten minutes. Lieutenant Jinyo, have that man replaced immediately.”
“Hai!”
“And get it right this time!”
“Hai!”
The Japanese officer turned back to his guest.
“They were doing well… no blame attached for that I think.”
“I agree, Commander. Freak wave… your men were not at fault. In fact, they were performing excellently.”
Nobukiyo nodded his acceptance of the compliment.
“If I might make a suggestion, Commander?”
“Of course.”
“Double the sea watch. Two pairs of eyes on each quarter might have seen that coming.”