𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; band of brothers ✔

PART TWENTY ONE

woahwoahwoahwoah TW for this chapter - violence, assault, other malicious content

Word count; 1,900

Frances

— December 29th, 1944. Bastogne, Belgium.

My cheeks throbbed, pulsing against the pain of being struck so many times. Each time I wouldn't answer a question, or even delay at that, Lehmann would order one of his soldiers to smack me with their brass knuckles. As a result, one of my eyes had inflated, blackened by internal bleeding. My shoulder, once pierced by shrapnel, now oozed with pus, beset by infection.

Still, I was tied to a chair, my clothes soaked by blood and tears. A soldier - Böhm - watched me each night, ordered to throw water at me if I tried to sleep, tried to do anything. In the morning, he would change shifts with Vogel, who would bring a handful of horse food and force me to eat it as Lehmann observed. It was the only way I knew time had passed.

Böhm burst into the room, followed by Lehmann, strutting forward with the same malicious grin on his lips, "Awe, Fräulein, why do you look so sad?"

I squinted through my only functional eye.

"I have a present for you." He said sweetly, like talking to a child.

He stepped aside, revealing a man with dark gray hair and small spectacles, a briefcase in hand. 

"Go on, Mr Bierhals," Lehmann extended a palm in my direction. "She does not bite."

Mr Bierhals eyed the Captain cautiously. Carefully, he continued forward, placing down his briefcase and moving his head left and right as if examining my injuries.

"That is quite the infection." Mr Bierhals commented, pressing a finger delicately against the fabric beside the wound.

"Mr Bierhals is a doctor, Fräulein. A very good one. A lung surgeon, actually, for small, little children." Lehmann stepped closer. "Tell the Fräulein how you can help her, Mr Bierhals."

The doctor swallowed, forehead crowded by sweat. "I can help you. I have antibiotics. I have herbal tea. It will help infection. Answer Hauptmann Lehmann's questions and I can help you."

My breaths were short and fast, my mouth unable to move from the amount of swelling.

"Please answer Hauptmann Lehmann's questions. I can help you."

When I didn't respond, Lehmann's face curled into a frown, "Is it that you want to die, Fräulein? Is it?"

He dismissed the doctor, ordering Vogel inside and Böhm to bolt the door shut. One of them undid my hands, my whole body ready to collapse onto the floor. Another pulled out a set of pliers.

Seeing my figure droop, Lehmann announced, "So be it."

Vogel slammed my hand onto the table. Böhm clamped the tip of his pliers onto my thumbnail. Suddenly realising what was about to take place, my head lifted, finding a new sense of adrenaline. My whole time in captivity, neither of the men made eye contact with me - never when in the presence of their Captain. This time, however, I caught the glance of Vogel, a hint of wariness in his glare. He didn't mind striking me with his brass knuckles, it seemed. This, however, he did.

Böhm tugged on my nail as Lehmann asked one last time for my identity. Struck with fear, I choked on my own words. A second passed. A raw, intense screech entered the air as he ripped my entire nail out. This repeated until he reached my smallest finger, and eventually I fell into unconsciousness.