Dealing with the chest wound first, they rolled the patient onto his back, making sure to pad the area around the protruding bullet. Then, using the probe, Adie gently felt for the walls of the hole and worked deeper into the wound. “I wonder why the bullet didn’t go all the way through,” she said, frowning.
The partisan gave the question some thought. “We were in a rocky area. It might have hit something first.”
“I think I found it,” Adie said, half-smiling. “It’s in a little deeper than I thought.” She carefully withdrew the probe and picked up the forceps. Then, holding them closed, she reentered the wound and soon made contact with the slug. As she opened the jaws and grasped the bullet, the injured man groaned loudly, and his eyes flashed open. He took a deep breath and once again lost consciousness. Adie remained motionless until she was sure he was out, then slowly extracted the bullet and dropped it into her assistant’s hand. She dressed the wound before moving on.
“You are young for a doctor, I think,” her assistant said, “but very good.”
To Adie, the compliment was welcome encouragement. “Thank you, but we’re not quite done. Why don’t we roll him onto his stomach? Careful now.” After retrieving the knife from the boiling water, she returned to clean the area around the protruding bump. Then, using the knife, she made a small incision, and with the forceps, removed the slug.
Aware that Adie had finished, the cook sent the boy over to check on his father.
Adie stood as he came close. “Your papa should be fine,” she said, sensing the boy’s anxiety. “Of course, there will be pain, and when he wakes he will need your help, but for now what he needs most is rest.”
# # #
“Mighty impressive for someone with limited experience and not much to work with,” Merrick observed.
“Actually, between the previous incident and this one, her medical training was almost nonstop,” Ari said. “Viktor went through scenario after scenario with her—a pretty thorough guy for a field medic. Anyway, when he returned from helping the other unit, he offered nothing but praise.
“Over the next two months he expanded her training even further, teaching her how to evade the enemy, set up a primitive camp, even make a bed out of pine boughs. In the process, she became more familiar with the mountain trails and soon began volunteering as a runner, carrying messages out to the sentries standing post. In the weeks that followed, the unit experienced casualties on three separate occasions. Twice, Viktor talked her through bullet extractions, and once he helped her set a broken arm. Then toward the end of August and on into September, things happened that changed the course of her life.
“It all started in late August when an American bomber returning from a night raid over northern Czechoslovakia caught fire and went down a few miles from the camp. Three crewmen managed to bail out before the plane exploded. A partisan scout reported the incident, and the next morning Adie’s unit mounted a search. They found two of the airmen dead. A stiff breeze the night before had slammed one crewmen into a tree—broke his neck. The other died from shrapnel wounds before they could reach him.”
“And the third man?” Merrick asked.
Ari gestured toward the display. “This took place that same day, just a few days after Adie’s sixteenth birthday.”
CHAPTER 19
> > >
It was early afternoon, a sunny day with blue skies down to the horizon. A blustery wind had started the day before and intensified overnight, now howling as it raced through the pines. Adie leaned into the stiff breeze, wending her way along a rising trail, nearly two miles from the command post. She carried a message and provisions for a sentry positioned on a bluff, high above and to her left. To reach his position, she needed to pass below the bluff and then begin a steep ascent via switchbacks to the top.
She wore the dark green uniform of a partisan and the leather boots she received before escaping the ghetto. Her hair was in a ponytail. A black patch covered her left eye. At 5 feet, 10 inches, she was almost fully grown.
Rigo, her intelligent hiking companion, stood only half her height, which was amazingly tall for a German shepherd. He was completely black—strikingly so, which to Adie was sometimes more than a little disconcerting—this due to his annoying habit of walking silently behind her for extended periods. The problem arose when she forgot he was there. Typically, she would be walking along daydreaming, turn to look at something, and out of the corner of her eye, catch a large black object moving along behind her. “Well, you little devil,” she would say, fighting off panic. More than once, she had related the experience to her comrades, who always enjoyed a good laugh.
The wind and the incline were beginning to take their toll. Signs of exhaustion showed on Adie’s face as she plodded along, now less than a hundred yards from the base of the bluff. Rigo had taken up his customary position several paces back. Then an unfamiliar scent entered his nostrils, and he froze mid-stride, ears erect, expression hardened—staring intently at the trail ahead. A split second later, he was moving again, but at a quickened pace. He brushed Adie’s leg, turned in, and blocked her path.
Adie was visibly shaken. “My word, Rigo, what’s gotten into you? You nearly tripped me.” The shepherd just stood there, staring up the trail, pressing his weight back against her legs. “What is it, boy?”
Rigo began a deep growl, almost inaudible at first, then increasing in intensity as the hair on his back began to rise.
A half dozen rifle shots rang out in quick succession, followed by the loud “pop, pop” of a large caliber pistol. Adie flinched, ducked down, and held onto Rigo. The rifle fire seemed to be coming from across the ravine—ahead, down, and to the right. The pistol, however, was much closer. Seconds later a man dressed in a heavy brown leather jacket and matching trousers staggered around a large boulder at the base of the bluff and tried to make his way down the trail in Adie’s direction. He glanced back, caught his foot on a half-buried rock, and collapsed to the ground in obvious pain. More rifle fire echoed through the trees, this time from the bluff high above and from at least three different positions on the opposite side of the ravine...then silence.
Adie recognized the injured man’s uniform from magazine pictures of American airmen. She patted Rigo on the back, “It’s okay, boy. He’s a friend. Let’s go see if we can help.” She stood, and Rigo began to move forward, staying a few steps ahead, being careful to keep himself between Adie and the injured man.
The sentry on the bluff above began to shout across the ravine to his comrades who were making their way down to a clump of trees where four German soldiers lay dead.
By the time Adie and Rigo reached the man, he was lying motionless on his side. Adie knelt and placed her rucksack under his head while Rigo kept his eyes on the trail ahead. Adie couldn’t miss the jagged piece of shrapnel protruding through the back of the man’s jacket. She uncapped her canteen and encouraged him to drink.
Though bordering on unconsciousness, the airman managed a few gulps. He looked up at Adie, trying to focus. “Rachel...what on Earth are you doing here? Go home, it’s too dangerous,” he said, nearly incoherent.
“My name is Adie. I’m here to help you,” she said, in perfect English. “You have an injury behind your shoulder. Are there any others?”
“Any others...any other what?” he responded in confusion.
“Injuries—are there any other injuries, or is it just your back?”
“Oh...oh, just the back; just the back.”
Finding no insignia on his uniform, Adie asked for his name.
“Col. Bogie...Nathan D.,” the man said, grimacing.
Adie looked around. “Can you walk? I want to help you over into the trees. It’s more comfortable there and out of the sun. Can you do that?”
“Sure, sure...can do.” With Adie’s help, he struggled to his feet and began to move forward, swaying in one direction, then the other. “Boy is my head spinning...sure hope we get there soon.”
“It’s only a short way,” encouraged Adie. “You’re doing fine.”
When they reached the trees, she gently laid him down on the soft pine needles and called Rigo. “I have to go for help. Rigo will watch you until I return.”
“Rigo...who’s Rigo?”
The shepherd came bounding up, stopping abruptly beside Adie, only inches from the colonel.
Colonel Bogie jerked back in a moment of lucidity. “Holy Moses, that’s a big dog!” he exclaimed. Rigo leaned down and licked him on the forehead. “...but a nice dog.”
Adie turned to Rigo. “You stay here with the colonel. I’ll go for help.” Rigo laid down beside Colonel Bogie, and Adie headed for the bluff, stopping part way up the trail to pick up the colonel’s pistol. She quickly returned. “You must have dropped this when you fell,” she said, carefully passing him the weapon. “Anyway, you won’t need it anymore. Rigo’s like a one-man army. You ought to see him when he’s not such a nice dog.” She passed the colonel her canteen before once again heading for the bluff.
Colonel Bogie looked at Rigo, gave him a friendly pat, and shifted to a more comfortable position.
# # #
“You know, I never cease to be amazed at her composure,” Merrick said of Adie. “How can she maintain a sense of humor with all that going on?”
“What can I say?” Ari said, shrugging. “She’s a never-ending source of fascination.”
“So how did they get the colonel out?”
“Horseback,” Ari said, gesturing toward the screen.
> > >
The sentry came down on one knee to shake the colonel’s hand. “I must return to camp for a horse,” he said, and Adie translated.
Feeling some relief from dehydration, Colonel Bogie asked the sentry about the Germans.
“Dead—all dead,” the sentry said, standing to his feet. “We had the high ground—caught them in a crossfire. This place is our home. They know nothing of these mountains...a dangerous place for Germans, I think.”
“I understand…. Well, it was good you folks came along. Thanks for your help.”
The sentry tipped his hat. “I will be back with the animal.” He turned and trotted off down the trail.
Colonel Bogie looked up at Adie. “I’m intrigued,” he said. “How is it that I find myself in the mountains of Czechoslovakia having a conversation with a young lady who speaks perfect English...and is that a hint of a New York accent I’m hearing?”
Adie smiled. “I was born in America. I lived on Long Island when I was younger—Garden City.”
“Then we’re practically neighbors. I’m from Port Jefferson, up on the Sound,” the colonel said, referring to Long Island Sound.
Colonel Bogie’s words seemed to bring Adie comfort. “I’m happy to know you,” she said with a broad smile.
“So, Miss Adie, what brings a New Yorker to the mountains of Czechoslovakia?”
Adie sighed. “It’s a long story. Are you sure you want to hear all that?”
Colonel Bogie’s attempt at a smile turned into a grimace. “Hey, you’ve got a captive audience, here. Shoot—I’m all ears.”
“Well, I’ll try to shorten it a little,” Adie said, taking a moment to arrange her thoughts. “My father was from Berlin, originally. His father was a jeweler—very successful. When my father finished his schooling and learned the business, my grandfather sent him to New York to start a business of his own. As it turned out, he did very well, but when I was six, my grandpa died—and with no one to run my grandpa’s store, my father sold everything and we returned to Berlin. Of course, we are Jewish, and things got very bad for us there. In fact, things were so bad that we moved to Hungary and lived on a farm. For a few years we were okay—at least until the Germans came and confined us in Kopasvar….
“My papa had hired a few men to work on the farm. One was a partisan. When we were arrested, he and a few of his friends snuck into the ghetto and arranged for some of the older children to escape. There were eight of us; though, once we got out, we split up. My group went to a partisan camp in northern Hungary. Then, before long, some Czech partisans came through and saw me helping the cook. They said their unit had lost its cook and needed a replacement. So here I am—but as it turns out, they didn’t need a cook as much as a medic.”
The colonel smiled. “Then you’re a medic?”
“Yes, among other things...and speaking of medical things, I need to look at your back. We should try to get that jacket off. Is that okay?”
“I think so.”
“Do you know there’s a piece of metal sticking out behind your shoulder?”
“Believe me,” the colonel said, taking a labored breath. “I’m aware….”
Adie examined the wound. “I have no idea how deep that is, so we need to be careful.”
“Roger that, Miss Adie.” He slowly leaned forward.
“Okay, I’m going to hold your jacket in place while you bend your right arm back under. Try to press your arm up toward the middle of your back.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
Seeing Colonel Bogie’s pained expression, Adie slowly slipped the sleeve off his arm. “Okay, now comes the hard part. I’m going to try to lift the jacket off your back without disturbing the shrapnel.” She slowly pulled the jacket back and slightly to the right to keep the pressure off the fragment.
As it slipped smoothly through the hole, the colonel hissed loudly and drew a deep breath. “Mercy!” he said, gritting his teeth.
“I can imagine,” Adie sympathized, laying the jacket beside him. A streak of blood ran down the back of his flight suit, but stopped at his waist. “It’s not bleeding as much as I would have thought. That’s good, but I’m afraid if we want it to stay that way, we need to leave it alone until we get to the command post. I brought some bandages and disinfectant but no surgical tools. If we try to remove it without them, things could get much worse.”
The colonel nodded his understanding. “You’re the Doc...whatever you think.”
“I did bring a knife, though. I should cut the material back a little around the wound to remove some pressure.”
“Good deal.”
Adie removed a small knife from the sheath on her hip. “So why did you call me Rachel back there?” she asked, tipping her head toward the bluff.
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember that…. Rachel’s my daughter’s name. She’s about your age, though not quite as tall. Which side of the family do you get that from, by the way?”
“My mama’s...she’s pretty tall,” Adie said. “You know, we never went up to Port Jefferson. What’s it like?”
“A wonderful place to grow up—I can tell you that. We lived on the east side of the port, up on a hill. The view was spectacular, particularly at sunset with all the small boats bobbing at anchor. My father was a fisherman. Usually, he went out alone, but sometimes he would contract his boat to tourists. He was a great guide, and the fishing was unbelievable. We rarely had a bad day.”
Adie applied sulfa powder to the wound as the colonel continued to reminisce. “That sounds delightful. I’ve never been fishing,” she said.
“Oh, there’s nothing like it…. But you have to be in shape. I remember one time we were trolling not far from the inlet when I hooked into this eight-pound blue fish. I was only about twelve years old, then. I must have fought that thing for a half hour before I brought it in. My arms were so exhausted, they felt like lead. I’ll never forget it. My pop sure was proud. We had some great times, my pop and I.”
“Then he must be ten times as proud of you now,” Adie said. “Aren’t you a pilot?”
“As a matter of fact, I am; though we don’t wear rank on the uniform when we fly.”
Adie looked down at his jacket. “Why such heavy clothes in the middle of summer?”
“You know, Miss Adie, I’m sure it must seem strange, but the simple truth is, it’s cold up there. We cruise at 26,000 feet most of the time. You may not know, but for every thousan
d feet you go up, the temperature drops two and a half degrees…. I would guess we’re at about 4,000 feet here, and it’s maybe 80 degrees. So if you go up 22,000 feet from here, the temperature drops to about twenty-five. Add windchill to that, and you’re well below zero…. Even with this heavy jacket, long underwear, and insulated boots, I still get cold.”
Adie marveled. “My word, I had no idea. Though I must say, that’s a nice jacket. The winters here are awfully cold. You may be happy you have it.”
Colonel Bogie found himself staring at the eye-patch under Adie’s glasses. “Now, Miss Adie, you’ll have to forgive me for being so forward, but what happened to your eye?”
“Oh, that’s okay…. It happened while we were in Kopasvar. My little brother accidentally knocked a flowerpot off our balcony, and it almost hit a German guard...so they broke into our apartment and arrested my parents. I tried to stop them, but one of them hit me in the eye with his gun. I can’t see out of it anymore.”
The colonel frowned. “How cruel…. I’m so sorry.”
“At least it stopped hurting. I’m thankful for that.”
“…So, have you heard anything from your parents since you left?”
“Not yet, but I expect to, soon.”
# # #
“The conversation went nonstop until the sentry returned with the horse,” Ari said. “They didn’t arrive at the command post until well after dark.”
> > >
Having already sterilized the instruments, Viktor took a moment to examine the colonel’s injury. “Didn’t they teach you boys how to duck in pilot school?” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “You know, you might lose the use of that arm...Heck, even if you are able to use it, I doubt you’ll ever have full movement again.” Viktor grinned, having done his best to intimidate the American, and Adie translated.
Colonel Bogie appeared unshaken. “Don’t go all soft on me now, Doc...feel free to tell me like it is,” he said, a smile forming.
“Well, if you don’t mind,” Viktor said, impressed by the colonel’s bravado, “I’m going to be the assistant tonight. Adie will do the work. Now don’t let that bother you. She is most capable.”
Adie looked at Viktor surprised.
“I have no problem with that,” the colonel said, smiling at Adie.