Living a Nightmare

OFFICER LEWIS - MARKUS

But the one day I remember the most was the 23rd of March 1945. I was minding my own business, trying to find some food for myself, when I saw four men walking down the street towards me. Suddenly, just a few metres away from me, there was a big bang as a hand grenade shot towards them. I acted instinctively, without actually realising what I was doing. I shot forward and darted into one of the guys, toppling him over, just as another hand grenade shot towards us. It missed the guy and me by a few metres, but his companions were not so lucky, the hand grenade exploded too close to them and they died instantly.

I motioned for the stranger to stay down and follow me and we quickly scrambled off, the stranger still clearly shaken by what had just happened. I took him behind one of the houses where I knew of a secret entrance to get safely underground to where I lived for the time being. Yes, I know, underground is not the nicest place to be, but at that time it was probably one of the safest places to be.

In a flash, I led the stranger down into the sewers, where we would be safe.

Once I had caught my breath again, I looked at the stranger. Shocked, I realised that the person standing in front of me was wearing a British military police uniform. He was a Brit. Had I seriously just saved the enemy? What if someone saw me? One of the German soldiers? They would kill me... Well, that is if the British did not kill me first. I mean, who knows what this stranger is going to do to me now? Have I betrayed my country? The thoughts raced through my head but were interrupted when the stranger began to speak.

"You have just saved my life, young lad. How can I ever thank you for such a thing?" he looked at me, clearly awaiting a response.

Thankfully, my English in school was not too bad, so I was able to understand the stranger without too much trouble, except that he had quite a bit of an accent. This made it a little harder to understand the words he had just said.

"Oh sorry, where are my manners. I am Officer Lewis, James Lewis, from the British Military Police and you are?"

"I... I am Markus. Markus Krause," I stammered.

"Thank you again for saving my life, boy. That was an extremely brave thing you did back there. How old are you?" he asked me.

"16 years old, sir," I replied.

"16? Wow, so young and yet so brave. What were you doing all alone out there though?" James asked me.

"I was looking for food," I told him.

"Food? Don't your parents have enough food at home?" James continued.

"I am afraid not, sir. My parents are no longer with me... I lost both of them in this terrible war. My father died fighting for this country and my mother died in a bomb explosion. One day I was on my way home and found that there was no home to go to anymore... So now I live here, trying to stay alive until the war is finally over," I explained to him.

James listened carefully and looked sad, when he heard that I was all alone down here.

"You know what. You saved my life and now I am going to save yours," he told me after a moment of thought.

I looked at him confused.

"Since we actually are enemies, I cannot take you back to my base because I will not be able to protect you there. But I promise you that I will bring you enough food every day and I will make sure that you get some nice warm blankets so that you don't freeze, okay? And I will also come and visit you every day and make sure you are all right, and I will get you anything you may need," James told me.

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. A British officer was going to help me survive, was going to take care of me. I am not sure if my country would approve. And what about my parents? What would my parents say if they were still here? Would they approve? I suppose they would want me to survive, even if it meant accepting help from an enemy.

James seemed to realise. "I promise you that you will be under my protection boy. No one will get to you in unless they go through me, and don't worry, no one will find out. You are safe with me. I can even teach you some basic fighting skills to survive. You know, private tutoring, if you like."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So, that was how it happened. James snuck into my hiding place every day, made sure no one was following him, and brought me food, clothes and blankets. And, as he had also promised, he taught me some basic fighting skills to make sure that nothing happened to me.

In March 1947, James Lewis and his crew returned home to Wales. But he promised me that we would keep in touch. If I ever needed him, he gave me an address in Wales to write to.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I only knew James for two years before he went back home, but we became really close in those few years. He was like a father to me, making sure I was alright all the time. So I was very sad when I heard that he had to go back. He was the only friend I had.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At the end of the Second World War, I helped many Germans from my area to find their loved ones who had gone missing during the war. That turned out to be the beginning of my career as a private detective.