Camp 30 by Eric Walters

Schmidt, this is my new assistant, Mrs. Braun, and these are her two children, Jack and George.”
    He extended his hand and shook all of ours.
    â€œAnd this is Captain Kretschmer.”
    â€œI have already had the pleasure of meeting the two young men,” Kretschmer said.
    â€œThrough the fence,” Jack added. “This is the man we talked to.”
    â€œAlthough,” Captain Kretschmer continued, “we were not formally introduced. If I had known that you were bringing guests, I would have altered my schedule and eaten with the second shift. It is always of great pleasure to meet and have conversation with new people.”
    â€œPerhaps another day,” Colonel Armstrong said.
    â€œThat would be a pleasure. Especially to share discussion with two young people. We are not often granted that opportunity.”
    â€œYou have children … is it three?” Colonel Armstrong asked.
    Captain Kretschmer smiled, a sad smile. “Two boys and a girl. I have a recent picture of them and my wifein my room. It came in the mail.”
    â€œHow long has it been since you saw your family?” my mother asked.
    â€œTwo years, eight months and seven days,” he said. “A lifetime ago.”
    I couldn’t help thinking how long it had been since we’d seen our father.
    It had been almost two years since he’d left, and we’d sent him a new picture of us only a few weeks ago. Strange, I’d never even thought of Nazis having families, so I’d obviously never thought of them missing them.
    â€œAnd speaking of mail, Colonel Armstrong, we were very distressed that there was no mail call yesterday.”
    â€œThat was unfortunate. I’m most certain there will be mail today.”
    â€œMost certain? Which is to say not completely certain?” Captain Kretschmer asked.
    â€œThere are some things that remain beyond my control.”
    â€œMail call is the highlight of our days,” Captain Kretschmer said. “It is the only link we have with those we left behind … the only way we have of knowing that they are well.”
    â€œI understand the importance,” Colonel Armstrong said. “Perhaps we could meet later on today to discuss the matter further.”
    â€œI look forward to that discussion. And I hope to have an opportunity to have further conversation with ouryoung guests at some time in the future. It would bring me a little closer to my boys,” Captain Kretschmer said. “But for now I must vacate my seat to allow other officers the chance to dine. It was a pleasure,” he said as he stood up. The field marshal, who hadn’t said a word, bowed slightly and then left.
    â€œI was wondering about your arm,” the captain said, pointing to Jack’s cast. “How did you injure it?”
    â€œA car accident,” Jack said. “The cast is coming off really soon though.”
    â€œPerhaps then you and your brother will come to play in our gymnasium. We have basketball, volleyball and other games. You boys are welcome to come and use our facilities … if that meets with the colonel’s approval.”
    â€œI see no reason why not,” Colonel Armstrong said.
    I could think of a few reasons—like more than six hundred German prisoners’ worth of reasons.
    â€œGood day.” The captain bowed gracefully from the waist and then walked away, leaving the four of us sitting at the table.
    â€œThe first gentleman, Field Marshal Schmidt, is the highest-ranking officer in the camp,” Colonel Armstrong explained. “In fact, he is one of the highest-ranking German officers captured in the war. And Captain Kretschmer is, without a doubt, the most decorated German who has been taken prisoner.”
    â€œHe’s in the navy, right?” I asked.
    â€œYes. He captained U-boat 99.”
    â€œI don’t know why, but I think I’ve heard of that,” Jack said.
    â€œI’m sure