love sans eternity

The tired and worn out soldiers staggered into Dusseldorf, still wary and looking out for lone gunmen who might be hidden in the forlorn and broken buildings. It had been a tiring day like anyother but today was different. It was a day with an end. The end of the Battle of Dusseldorf. Dusseldorf was the last bastion of the German soldiers in the soon to be British Sector. Initially the regiment had started with fifty-seven on board. Now twenty kilometers and twelve days later just seven of them walked into dusseldorf.

Private Stentham tottered along, his lips parched and bleeding from a freshly burst boil. His leg was broken from falling in a deep trench just outside the city. It hurt. He was sure that every bone in his body was broken. He would have fallen there and slept had he not noticed the vultures looking encouragingly at him. The scene around him was one of absolute devastation. Broken buildings lined potholed roads. Rotting bodies were strewn all over the place. The Captain, who was wallking a few feet in front said something . Stentham turned to the soldier next to him and gestured to him as to what the Captain had said. The solider shook his head. Months of fierce fighting had left most of the soldiers almost deaf from the continuous sound of artillery firing and air-planes shreiking abovehead. Stentham lowered his head and walked on.

That night there was no tent set up. Partially because there was a dearth for camping equipment and partially because none of the soldiers could lift themselves, leave alone a pole. The soldiers kneeled on the harsh concrete floor and dropped to the floor. They had no spare clothing and no beds. Some stuffed hay into their helmets and used it as a pillow. Stentham curled himself up in a corner and hugged his rifle whose barrel was still warm from the day's action. He quickly fell into a state of deep sleep. When the grenade exploded, none of the soldiers gave so much as a cry.

When Stentham woke up, he saw a smiling white face mouthing something to him. It was a white figure dressed in a white blouse and a white skirt. He could not hear what it was saying. Stentham was sure that he had died and it was his fairy god-mother who was tending to him. He closed his eyes in bliss and fell back. wWhen he opened his eyes again several hours later, the same figure was still trying to tell him something. He could hear a few muted sounds now. But when he tried to prop himself up on the pillow, his elbow and back hurt. He fell back unconscious. The first word that he heard when his hearing returned was "Matilda". He could feel someone feeding him when he felt hungry but couldnt express his hunger, clean his almost unliveable body at regular hours and sing songs when he shivered with wild nightmares of white children with blonde hair and blue eyes and no skin asking him when their parents would return.

Three months later, Captain Robin Stentham MC was ready to leave the military hospital. The doctors had told him that he had been lucky to have escaped the war with nothing more than a partial limp and a half-deaf ear. Robin waited expectantly for his Matilda to come.She was the only hope that he could see for up to the horizon was filled with burnt buildings and charred remains of human beings. He had told her several times that he could not fathom as to how she maintained a smiling face amidst such devastating ruin. He had fallen in love with her the instant he had seen her. She was beautiful beyond words. He could not think of any words to describe her. Nor could he remember any word while she was in his presence. When he came back from his trance, he saw Matilda standing before his bed, checking on his blood pressure. He blurted out, "Will you marry me Matilda?"

Captain Stentham returned to Dusseldorf a month after he had gone back from Germany after his wounds had healed. He was now in-charge of the knowledge transfer from German Scientists to their British counterparts in the field of radios. Stentham had returned to Britain a month earlier. When he went to his small village in Yorkshire, he had found that his house was destroyed. Ang with it had perished his parents. After days of crying, his senses numbed, Stentham walked into the General's office with a cold face, demanding that he be posted to Germany. He now had one aim. He wanted her. He decided on a plan of action. He asked for Dusseldorf in particular. The General found the request peculiar but did not question Stentham's intentions. He already had a queue of officers waiting to return from Dusseldorf. Afterall nobody wanted to live in a ravaged city.

Stentham pondered on what had happened that fateful day at the Military hospital. Matilda had refused to marry him. She told him that she loved him. But she loved him as a mother would love her children. She told him that she marvelled him because he was one of the very few she had ever seen who had escaped such severe physical traumas. He had pleaded with her like a child. She told him, "I'm married". Stentham looked at her hand. She bowed down and said, "With the pawn broker. My husband...."

Stentham was given a huge apartment in one of the posh areas in Dusseldorf. It was a city that had put the war behind it and was rebuilding itself at a fast rate. Stentham walked into his apartment and without even removing his coat, he lifted the unlisted phone off its hook and murmured, "The Dean, Dusseldorf Military Hospital. Use an alias". A sober voice on the other end said, "Yes Captain." A few minutes later the dean of the hospital came onto the line. Stentham said, "Wonder if i could speak to one Ms.Matilda of Ward-F?"

"I am sorry Herr Greffold. I am afraid she has left the hospital" came back a broken voice. Stentham waited silently for more explanation. The dean continued, "She gave the reason that her old and ailing husband required continuous attention. They have shifted from Dusseldorf to their village house somewhere in the vicinity of Wesel."

"I see. Could you give me her present address please? I believe we at the American Embassy have some information about her relatives in our sector" he said.

"Just a minute Herr Greffold" came the reply.

That night a sleek looking officer came into Stentham's private quarters. Stentham, in his night gown and sitting by the fire with a glass of fine French Clarinet studied the man. Stentham wondered if the man in front of him had so much as seen a dead body. These were one of the new generation of youths who in their jingoisitc fervor had signed up for the army without knowing about its hassles. Stentham knew that such officers would go to any extent to please a high ranking officer such as himself. Just the kind Stentham needed.

The officer saluted him and stood at attention. Stentham said, "We have information about a certain Mr. Hans Kruger who headed the third Panzer division that invaded Greece. He lives off Wesel in a small village. The man is not concerned with radios. But he poses the threat of organizing a resistance network. I want you to take him out. And do not attempt to capture the man alive or make contact with him. Just take him out." The officer nodded and walked away.

The next morning Stentham's maid came rusing out of the house, screaming at the top of her voice. When the officers rushed in, they found Captain Stentham lying askance on the carpet with a gun in his hand and fresh blood was oozing out of his forehead. On the floor beside him was a newspaper that read:

Fire in Wesel kills two
July, 1945
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" An ailing man Hans Kruger and his wife Matilda Kruger were killed in a fire yesterday night. It apears that the fire broke out in the couple's barn in the little village of wesel. Both of them died on the spot from third degree burns. No further investigations are to be made as the officers have concluded that the fire was accidental. A service will be conducted for the late couple today afternoon"
Source: Reuters, Dusseldorf