Page 78 of All We Thought We Knew
Gunther and the patient turned to find Major Gridley standing in the doorway.
“Major.” The young man saluted the officer with his good arm.
The major nodded but his attention focused on Gunther. He wore a serious expression, which was unusual, considering the man was typically upbeat no matter the circumstances.
“Mr. Schneider, please come see me in my office when you’re finished here.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, wondering what had the man looking so grave. He hoped there hadn’t been another accident on the training field. Not long ago, a soldier was killed and others injured when a truck flipped over during a nighttime exercise.
“You must be a pretty good doctor,” the young man said after the major departed. “I heard all the Kra—” He paused, looked sheepish, then continued. “I heard the Germans who live in the internment camp are members of the Nazi party. I don’t guess they’d let a Nazi work in the hospital unless he was a real good doctor.”
Gunther continued to wrap the man’s arm with plaster-coated strips of cloth. He’d heard the rumor dozens of times over the past year and a half he’d worked in the infirmary. “I’m not a Nazi. I’m also not a doctor.”
“For real? Boy, you could’a fooled me. You speak good English, too. I once met a man who could talk Spanish and he...” The young man launched into another outlandish story while Gunther finished with his cast. The soldier was still talking when Gunther walked him to the door and sent him on his way.
“I feel sorry for his bunkmates,” he said to the nurse on duty, who giggled in response.
But the young man’s compliment of Gunther’s English pleased him.
Ava had tutored him for fourteen months now. They’d read anddiscussed dozens of books she checked out from the Camp Forrest library, includingFor Whom the Bell Tollsby Ernest Hemmingway. She’d been disappointed with the ending—“Was Robert Jordan killed or does he miraculously survive?”—but Gunther thought it a perfect way to leave the story. She also brought newspapers to help him stay informed on what was happening in the world, and they discussed the war and Hitler without Gunther fearing his words would be mistaken or used against him.
After washing his hands, he went to the major’s office.
“Come in, Mr. Schneider.” Major Gridley waved to a chair in front of his desk. Once Gunther was seated, he asked, “How is your patient?”
“His arm should mend well, as long as he doesn’t do anything reckless in the next six weeks.” Gunther chuckled. “When a soldier comes in with the same injury, the nurses call him arepeat customer.”
He expected the major to smile at the joke, but instead the frown on his brow deepened. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Gunther waited.
He hoped this wasn’t about his mother. He hadn’t heard from her in months, despite his many letters. She’d written shortly after he informed her of his new address in Tennessee, but there had been silence since then. He guessed mail delivery into Germany from America was halted by the Nazis, and vice versa, but still, he longed to hear from her soon.
“I’ve been informed that a large group of German POWs will arrive soon. Most of the men were captured in Africa.”
Relief washed over Gunther. This wasn’t aboutMutter. POWs had begun arriving at Camp Forrest months ago. A few more was nothing to be concerned about.
“I don’t know where they’ll sleep,” he said, thinking of the cramped quarters in the internment camp. “We’re already six or seven men to a hut built for four. The lines at the mess hall andshowers are long. I can’t imagine what it will be like when more POWs arrive.”
Major Gridley heaved a sigh. “You misunderstand. To make room for the prisoners, all the DOJ detainees will be transferred to a different camp.”
The news, while disappointing, wasn’t so bad. “As long as I can continue working in the dispensary, it doesn’t matter where I bunk at night.”
“I’m sorry to say, the camp you’re being transferred to is in North Dakota.”
Gunther wasn’t familiar with the location. “Is that in Tennessee?”
Major Gridley shook his head. “North Dakota is a state in the northern part of the country, near the Canadian border.”
Gunther gasped. “Canada? Why would they send us there? Why not send the POWs to that camp instead of moving us?”
“I don’t know.” He offered a sympathetic shake of his head. “It makes no sense to me, but I’m not in charge.”
Panic surged through Gunther. “Is there anything you can do? I want to stay here, at Camp Forrest, and continue working in the dispensary. I’ve learned so much from you, sir.”
“I wish there was something I could do. You’ve been an excellent apprentice, and I’ve come to rely on you. I spoke with the commander and told him how well you’ve done here, but they won’t make exceptions. All the internees will be transferred by the end of the week.”
“So soon?” Gunther’s heart sank.
