Chapter Sixteen Gunther

SIXTEEN : GUNTHER

CAMP FORREST, TENNESSEE

FEbrUARY 1942

Nervousness swam through Gunther as he sat in a metal chair in the reception area of a building at the far end of the hospital complex. Three young women seated at desks pretended to keep busy with their work, but Gunther felt their curious looks as he waited to meet with Colonel Hew Foster, the man in charge of the entire hospital.

Why did the officer want to meet with him?

That question had run through his mind ever since a guard found him in his hut yesterday afternoon and told him about the appointment. He could only guess it had something to do with what happened the day the soldier collapsed in the mess hall. He'd been a fool to let Mrs. Delaney talk him into administering chest compressions on the unconscious man. That it had turned out well seemed not to matter. The angry doctor who'd arrived at the scene had chewed Gunther up one side and down the other when the dust settled, then banned him from ever entering the hospital again.

He glanced at the closed door with the colonel's name on it. Fear roiled in his stomach.

Would he be deported back to Germany because of his reckless actions?

The very thought sent an icy chill down his spine.

While he would enjoy seeing his mother again, he had no desire to live in Nazi-ruled Germany. He, along with the rest of the world, heard horrifying news coming out of his home country. Jews murdered by the thousands. People arrested and shipped off to work camps if they didn't conform to the Nazi regime.

Mutter had seen this coming.

"You must go to America," she'd told him two months before his eighteenth birthday. Rolf wasn't home, giving Gunther and his mother the freedom to speak their minds without his brother's condescending censure. "Hitler is building his army, and I fear you will be forced to join."

They'd had this conversation before. From the time Hitler became chancellor in 1933, his racist ideals frightened her, and that only grew once Rolf joined the Hitler Youth.

"You know we cannot afford to send me to America," Gunther reminded her. "Besides, I will be studying medicine in Munich. Hitler himself says he wants more doctors and scientists in Germany."

His mother sat across the table from him, a grave look in her eyes. "Son, listen to me. Hitler is an arrogant man. He will not stop until he has what he wants: a Germany free of the people he deems unworthy to be German." She rose and retrieved a book from the drawer. "I found this in your brother's room."

She handed it to Gunther. " Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler. I have heard of it, although I don't know what he means by my struggle . Rolf tried to get me to read it, but I said I was too busy with schoolwork."

"I'm glad you didn't read it, but now you need to know what it says. Hitler talks about his plans for transforming Germany into a perfect society based on race. He says Jews, people with dark skin, and those with mental problems poison society. According to Hitler, the only solution is to remove them... permanently."

Gunther stared at her. "Surely the government would not allow such extremes."

"Hitler is the government, son. Terrible things are coming to Germany." Terror shone in her eyes and laced her voice. "I have lost one son to him. I cannot lose you, too."

She pulled a leather pouch from her apron pocket.

Gunther gasped when she removed a wad of reichsmark banknotes. "Where did you get that money from?"

"I sold the car." She passed the bills to me. "I want you to purchase passage on a ship, bound for America. Go, study medicine in a place where you will be free, and I'll know you are no longer in danger."

Yet Gunther was now a prisoner of the very country where she thought he'd be safe. How he'd hated to write a letter to her, informing her that the freedom they both dreamed of had turned into a nightmare.

The door to the colonel's office opened. Expecting to see a uniformed man, Gunther was confused when Mrs. Delaney walked out. Her gaze met his, and a slight smile touched her bright red lips.

"Good morning, Mr. Schneider. Colonel Foster will see you now."

Gunther suddenly remembered she said she worked for a colonel. Did she have something to do with this meeting?

Colonel Foster rose from where he was seated at his desk when they entered and offered his hand. "Mr. Schneider, thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

Gunther nodded, unsure how to respond. As far as he knew, he hadn't been given a choice.

The man motioned Gunther to one of two chairs in front of the desk. Behind him, the door clicked closed, and he assumed Mrs. Delaney exited the room. However, a moment later, she quietly took a seat in the chair next to him, a notepad and pencil in hand, and her attention focused on the colonel.

"I've heard various accounts of what happened in the mess hall last week," he began, casting a quick look at Mrs. Delaney, then back to Gunther. "I don't know if you're aware, but the man whose life you saved is doing well. He apparently has a heart anomaly, which he was unaware of until he collapsed. He's been medically discharged from the Army and was sent home to his family, thanks in part to you."

The man's praise and cordial tone wasn't at all what Gunther had anticipated. "I'm... glad to hear it, sir."

The colonel studied Gunther before saying, "I understand you were a medical student before the war started. What school did you attend?"

Wariness crept over Gunther. He'd answered these same questions over and over after his arrest. "Columbia, sir."

Colonel Foster's brow rose. "Impressive. I understand they have an excellent program."

Gunther remained silent.

"Please describe what happened with the soldier in the mess hall, and why you chose to administer a medical procedure only a qualified doctor should employ. Considering your position here at Camp Forrest, it doesn't seem as though it was the wisest thing to attempt."

Gunther contemplated how to respond. While there was no reason he shouldn't be truthful, honesty had not served him well with US government officials lately.

He glanced at Mrs. Delaney, but she stared at the pad of paper in her lap, pencil poised to begin writing. There were already notes on the page. Was she recording everything he said?

He faced the colonel again. "Mrs. Delaney asked me to meet with her so she could complete a..." He struggled to remember the word she'd used.

"Personnel file," she quietly supplied.

Gunther nodded his thanks when she looked up. "Yes, a personnel file. We were finished with our conversation when someone called out that a man was not breathing. The guard told us he would get help, but I felt it took too long."

"So, you decided to intervene, despite the fact that you're not a doctor?"

Gunther met the man's gaze. "I decided I did not want to watch a man die, especially if there was something I could do to prevent it."

"Even though he was an American soldier, training to fight Germans?"

"My professor at Columbia, Dr. Sonnenberg, teaches there should be no prejudices in medicine."

Colonel Foster gave a slow nod. "Well said." He leaned back in his chair. "Tell me about your training."

Gunther gave the basics of his admission into Columbia and the subjects he'd studied. He also shared how Dr. Sonnenberg, a fellow German, took him under his wing. "I had hoped to begin an internship with him this semester." There was no need to explain why it hadn't happened.

"And the method you used on the unconscious man." Colonel Foster said. "Had you performed it before?"

Gunther gripped the armrest. Should he answer honestly? If he did, he could soon find himself on a ship bound for Germany.

"I had not, sir. I only watched as Dr. Sonnenberg used it to revive a patient." He paused. He'd probably already sealed his fate, so he finished by saying, "Dr. Friedrich Maass, a German surgeon in the 1890s, advocated using chest compressions rather than ventilation alone. I believe his technique has been used around the world to revive thousands of patients."

A bemused expression crossed the colonel's face. "Perhaps you are correct." He leaned his elbows on the desktop and tented his fingers. "In the meantime, however, I need to decide what to do with you. Mrs. Delaney," he smiled at her when she looked up from her notepad, "believes you should be given another chance to work in the hospital."

Gunther turned to see her face grow a becoming shade of pink.

"After speaking with you, I'm inclined to agree."

Gunther couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're not sending me back to Germany?"

The colonel frowned. "Is it your wish to return to your homeland?"

"No," Gunther said, too quickly and too loudly. He composed himself before saying, "What I mean is, I came to America to study medicine. That is still my wish."

"I'm glad to hear that. While I can't offer you the same type of internship you would have received in New York, I believe you can be useful in the dispensary. Soldiers with minor ailments and such are treated there rather than taking up beds in the hospital. Major Gridley oversees the unit. He's a fine man. I'm sure he would welcome the help."

Gunther sat speechless.

He wasn't being deported. He wasn't even being punished for acting irrationally and putting the patient in danger. He would be allowed to work in a medical clinic. Not as an orderly, simply there to lift patients or clean up messes, but to be of use to the ill and injured.

For the first time since his arrest, Gunther felt as though someone cared about him as a human being. If people like Colonel Foster and Mrs. Delaney could see him as the man he was and not some foreign enemy alien, then perhaps others could too.

"Thank you," he finally said. "I appreciate your willingness to trust me."

The colonel stood. Gunther and Mrs. Delaney rose too.

"You're welcome, Mr. Schneider. I'll look forward to hearing a good report from Major Gridley in the coming days."

He offered his hand once again, and Gunther accepted it with a new respect for the man. He turned and followed Mrs. Delaney from the office. His ever-present guard sat on the corner of a desk and flirted with the young woman seated behind it. When he saw Gunther, he leaned down and whispered something to her, causing her to giggle.

Gunther turned to Mrs. Delaney.

"How can I ever thank you for this?" he said, dumbfounded how things had worked out. "I thought for certain I would be sent back to Germany."

Her hazel eyes shone. "I simply told Colonel Foster what I saw that day. It's something I'll never forget. You should be allowed to continue your studies and become a doctor. You have a gift from God that shouldn't go to waste."

"Let's go, Schneider," the guard called. Gunther turned to find the armed man near the door.

When he faced Mrs. Delaney again, he lowered his voice. "You have given me hope. And for that, I will be forever grateful."

With her warm smile tucked away in his memory, Gunther followed the guard outside.

He didn't even mind that it was snowing.