And he couldn’t see. Am I blind? He twisted as much as he could but nothing seemed to be working. He was able to blink and felt something over his eyes. What had happened? The last thing Ernie recalled was being in a shelter and something exploding. He thought he recalled a man scolding him before the man disappeared.
Oh God. Had Winnie been with him? He couldn’t recall. Was she okay? He had to find out. He tried to move again and thought there was some feeling in his right leg but nothing in his left. He took a deep breath. Okay, I’m alive. He tried to say something but only a squawk came out and he wasn’t certain he’d made any sound anyhow.
Something grazed his right hand. “Ernie? Can you hear me?” It was Winnie’s voice, and he exulted. She was alive and clearly in better shape than he was. “If you’re conscious, just nod.”
It took willpower but he did. “Wonderful,” Winnie said. “Now I’m going to put a straw in your mouth so you can get some water in you.”
A few moments later he was sucking on a straw and drinking cold, clear water. A few more moments and he tried to talk. It came out as a croak so he drank some more water. Better.
“Where am I?” he whispered.
“In a hospital in Arbon, and don’t try to talk too darn much. Since you can hear me, just listen. You were found in the rubble of that bomb shelter. You were very lucky. Several people were killed.”
Ernie nodded, recalling the explosion and the death of the old man.
“You were injured pretty badly. While I was thrown clear and am unhurt except for some more bruises, you’ve got a broken leg and several smashed ribs. Fortunately, it’ll all heal but it will take some time, although you will be up on crutches in a short while. I hope you weren’t counting on dancing anytime soon.”
He smiled and felt her tears fall on his cheek. “A bunch of American bombers got lost and dropped their load on Arbon. The Swiss government is furious. You and I are technically under arrest, although you are obviously not going to escape. They’ve decided to let me stay with you for the time being. Dulles is a major diplomat so he has more immunity than we do and he’s trying to straighten out the mess with the Swiss government. He thinks he will succeed since the Swiss are such pragmatists.”
Ernie reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Am I blind?”
“Oh God, no. You’ve got some serious cuts on your forehead and around your eyes. You caught a lot of debris with your thick skull, which knocked you out. Your head is bandaged up and you’ve been restrained so you won’t pull your bandages off or thrash around and hurt your leg even more than it is already.”
“Take off the bandages. I want to see that you’re really okay.”
“Tomorrow. Right now a nice nurse is going to give you some more morphine so you can sleep in happy land and get some rest. They tell me that when the morphine wears off, you will be in great pain, so be prepared.”
“Will you be with me?”
“Yes, dear, of course.” Again he felt her tears and then her lips grazing his. Then it was time for a deep sleep.
* * *
Ensign Ted Kubiak, USNR, looked on in disbelief as one of his small crew leaned over the side of the boat and donated his lunch to the little fish. The rest of the crew were laughing hysterically.
“Dalton, you cannot be sick. This is a river and the water is barely moving. There are no waves. You’ve ridden out storms with no problems. What the hell is wrong with you now?
A very green Dalton stood up. To Kubiak’s disgust he had slobbered down his chin and onto his shirt. “Don’t know, sir. Maybe it’s because it isn’t rough enough. I’d love to stop barfing but I just can’t seem to.”
The twenty-four-year-old Kubiak shook his head and joined in the laughter. Despite his stomach problems, Dalton was a good guy, a draftee from West Virginia. Like Kubiak, Dalton had never seen combat. He and all the others had missed the landings at Normandy and in Southern France. They’d been scheduled to attack the Japanese island of Kyushu, but the Japanese surrender had put a welcome halt to their preparations for what promised to be a terrible fight against an insane and fanatic enemy. They’d gotten new orders and these sent them to France-and now up the Rhine. “Up the Rhine” seemed strange. Every time he looked at a map he wanted to say down the Rhine, but he was assured that they were going up the Rhine towards its source, which he thought was in Switzerland.
The long column of landing craft had made it up the Rhine to the Swiss border. There had been multiple stops for the boats to be refueled and the crew allowed time to eat and sleep. Numerous other columns of boats were towed by tugs with the crew simply along as passengers. None of the craft carried any troops, only U.S. Navy crews. Soldiers would come on board at the small German town of Lindau, a few miles away from the Nazi capital of Bregenz. This was assuming that the American forces had taken the city.
They had been further delayed by the need to ensure that the river was clear of obstructions. Channels had been made through the remains of the bridges that had been destroyed by German demolitions. Buoys had been laid to mark the existence of other potential dangers. Mines were not a major factor, although the possibility of their presence had not been ignored. Minesweepers kept a lookout for them and sharpshooters were constantly present and alert. If a mine was spotted, the riflemen would shoot and detonate the mine.
There were no problems. And the trip had taken on the feeling of a Rhine cruise vacation. The days were still bright and sunny. Numbers of sailors had stripped to their skivvies and lolled the sun, enjoying the scenic cliffs and historic castles as they passed them by. Heidelberg was pointed out along with the Rock of the Lorelei and everyone was curious about an ugly, squatty little fortresslike thing in the middle of the river. One of the men said it had been a medieval toll booth, which the guys thought was funny. The idea of boats paying tolls had never occurred to them.
None of them had ever seen the Rhine, and they had been stunned by the steep earthen walls that nature had carved, forming a natural line of fortifications. It was easy to see that the Germans could have held the river line for a very long time and how fortunate the American army was to have taken the bridge at Remagen before it collapsed.
Earlier in the war there had been problems with a shortage of landing craft. Increased production had partly solved that, while the transfer of the small boats from the now dormant Pacific theater had completed it. Thus, there was an abundance of landing craft of all sizes heading up the Rhine. Their destination was Lake Constance.
Kubiak’s landing craft was relatively large. It was able to hold one hundred men or a tank and fifty men. Some genius in Cologne had decided that the tank could be shipped with the landing craft and later joined by a crew, so a Sherman tank was tied down in the hull. Scores of other craft had similar cargoes. Nor was the craft totally defenseless. Two fifty-caliber machine guns were mounted in the prow.
He had written his parents and girlfriend that he’d gotten his first independent command and implied that it was a major warship. He’d then intentionally spoiled the illusion by sending a photo of the squat and homely vessel. The crew had voted to name her Brunhilde.
Nor were they alone one their journey. On several occasions they’d had to pull off to the west bank of the Rhine and wait while American destroyers surged ahead, like slow traffic on a highway letting faster vehicles go by. Someone joked that the destroyers were going to take on the legendary Swiss navy. Most didn’t think it was funny. The presence of the destroyers simply emphasized the seriousness of their situation and reminded them that their respite was likely temporary.
Kubiak bit his lip at the thought of taking his men into combat. There was no doubt that the landing would be a difficult one. The Germans were dying and those who were left were the worst of the worst. And what the hell were the rumors about gas?