Winfred

19

Official Report

British Intelligence

Code: 3986

Kathleen Winfred

SS-Hauptsturmfuhrer Freidrich Von Steubon

Soon after Von Steubon had departed, Pirot entered the room, carrying a bucket of hot water, which she set before me on the floor and placed my stinging feet in, one by one.

At first, the water burned, and I bit my lip to keep from crying. Pirot apologized for the sting but promised it would soon feel better. She ended up being correct, and my feet were soon blissfully numb in the hot, soothing water. 

Pirot pulled the other chair around and sat before me, checking her watch every so often. 

I cleared my throat. My feet were not in so much pain anymore, my forehead wound had dulled to only an ache, my stomach was full, I was warm, and I had questions.

Pirot seemed to guess to whom my questions pertained. 

She told me that no one knows much about Captain Von Steubon, as he keeps to himself for the most part. She said that she had spoken to him a few times at parties they both attended, as neither of them could tolerate festivity and crowds for long. 

I learned that something, Pirot did not know what, had caused Von Steubon to become incredibly bitter towards "Brits", and he had therefore joined the German army supporting Hitler's cause once World War Two had come around. He had realized his mistake, however, but was now forced to play the part or to die: the penalty for an Officer's unloyalty was surely death.

She said she did not know much else about him, except that he runs the prison camp strictly; it is better than others she has been to, much better. He tries to control things as much as possible in order to alleviate as much pain for the prisoners as possible.

I thought about two meals of bread and water a day.

I thought of being kicked by the Nazi Soldiers. 

I thought about being made to shovel snow until either the road was plowed or you collapsed.

I thought about one threadbare blanket.

I thought that Von Steubon must not be trying very hard, as I was still miserable.

A part of me wondered, however, if what Pirot said was true. If it was, how horrible were the other prison camps? 

I thought of Virginia, thinner than me when she first got here. She had actually gained a minimal amount of weight since her arrival. 

Pirot took my feet from the water bath and bandaged them, affording me a new pair of the standard prisoner's shoes and guiding me by the arm up the stairs and back to my familiar room.

She locked me in, as was standard procedure, but she looked reluctant to do it. 

She told me she might see me later, and then departed.

I sat on my wood cot, the blanket wrapped around me. Down the hallway, the guards at their station played a radio, the scratchy strains of music echoing down the hallway. 

Time passed.

Pirot did not come back.

The music stopped.

The lights went out.

***

image: Chris Pine as Freidrich Von Steubon