Page 105 of All We Thought We Knew
Gunther glanced between the two. “What is it?”
“Sepsis,” Dr. Lipp said. “I’ll take a blood sample to be certain, but all of the symptoms are presenting.”
Gunther stared at the man. He knew the condition was deadly.
Dr. Lipp ordered antibiotics and an IV drip of fluids. Nurse Roe and two other nurses crowded around the bed, tending to Dr. Sonnenberg, while Gunther stood in the corner, helpless.
When the room emptied and it was just the two of them again, he found his mentor’s gaze fixed on him.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice raspy and weak. Gunther came forward and took Dr. Sonnenberg’s feverish hand. “I am grateful for our time together. You have been like a son to me, Gunther Schneider.”
Gunther’s eyes filled. “I am not ready to say goodbye. I need you to get better.”
Dr. Sonnenberg tightened his grip. “And I need you to be strong. After the war, I want you to finish school and become a doctor.”
Gunther nodded, although his heart broke at the thought of losing his mentor.
He stayed with Dr. Sonnenberg through the long night. By daybreak, he knew the end was near.
“I have been thinking,” the older man said, his voice barely audible. Gunther grasped his frail hand and leaned close. “If a good Jewish man like Paul was convinced Jesus is the Messiah, I too can believe in him.”
Tears clouded Gunther’s vision. “Remember what Jesus said to the criminal on the cross next to him?”
Dr. Sonnenberg’s entire body relaxed.“Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.”
A moment later, he was gone.
• • •
After Dr. Sonnenberg died, Gunther withdrew from camp life. He quit his job at the hospital and spent the long, monotonous days in his room reading or walking the fence line by himself. Mr. McCoy didn’t assign him a new roommate, for which Gunther was grateful, but his loneliness and depression only increased over time. He didn’t bother to shave and seldom took the trouble to bathe. The men in his barracks avoided him, and even the Schlageter had the decency to leave him alone in his grief.
Months passed.
In February, news reached them that Heinz Fengler, the internee who escaped last October, was found in New Orleans. A week later, six-hundred-fifty Japanese internees arrived at Fort Lincoln, transferred from camps in California and New Mexico. Although they were housed in a separate part of the camp, the German internees were abuzz about the new residents.
By the first of April, newspapers predicted Germany and the Third Reich would soon fall. Gunther worried about his mother and brother, praying they’d survive the bombings. On May 1,the shocking news of Hitler’s suicide swept through camp. Whilethe Schlageter mourned the death of their Führer, Gunther felt the tiniest shred of hope that the war would truly come to an end.
He woke to bright sunshine and shouting on the eighth day of May.
“The war in Europe is over! It’s over!”
Gunther, like the rest of the internees, wondered what this meant for them. While Germany had surrendered, the war against Japan still raged in the Pacific. It could take months or even years to bring that faraway conflict to an end.
No one could have foreseen what took place on August6 and again on August9.
News of the atomic bombs quickly spread through camp. Gunther stood in the yard with the other German internees, stunned to learn how many lives were lost. Across the fence, the Japanese internees grieved the horrific destruction in silence. When Japan finally surrendered five days later, the celebrations were subdued. While everyone was grateful the war was finally over, the devastation it had wrought throughout the world was sobering.
Gunther lay in his bunk that night, thinking about Ava.
He hadn’t written to her since Dr. Sonnenberg died. Couldn’t bear to put the sad news in writing. She hadn’t known his friend, and he couldn’t expect her to grieve his loss, but she was never far from his thoughts.
What would she do now that the war was over? Already rumors had begun to circulate that camps like Fort Lincoln would eventually close. He guessed the same fate would take place at Camp Forrest, leaving her without a job. Would she stay in Tullahoma? In Tennessee?
A new fear circled his mind.
What if she’d met someone? Was that the reason she’d stopped writing to him?
He glanced at the small desk in the corner, moonlight illuminating a stack of books and Dr. Sonnenberg’s fountain pen.
