Chapter 9
Looking down at herself she took in the pitiful sight. Boots, caked with mud and stuffed with newspaper scrounged by Corrie, her torn and filthy dress, the color almost unrecognizeable. Her jacket also stuffed with newspaper was tied about her middle with a scrap of rope to keep it closed. She herself had lost almost forty pounds and was a shell of her former self. Her skin was a ghastly sallow color and stretched tautly over her frail frame. She had very little strength and found it was all she could do to roll out of her bunk in the mornings let alone stand for hours, ankle-deep in mud for roll call. It was an undescribable feeling she felt. Numbing hunger pains and mind-searing weariness that made her forget about everything else around her was the nearest she could come to explaining it.
It seemed ages to Liesabet and the rest of the women before the icy grip of winter finally relinquished it's grasp on the camp and the snow began to melt and trickle away. It was an event they looked forward to even more than mealtime and it was spoken of nearly every day.
To Liesabet's delight, near the wire she found a small sprig of hope in the form of a crocus bud. Just the sight of the little purple blossom amidst all the suffering and anguish around her succeeded in creating a miniature springtime in her own heart, as she felt a small flicker of hope for the first time in months.
Along with spring came new prisoners by the truckloads almost once a week. For Liesabet it was like looking into the past and seeing herself. Scared, unsure of what was to come. Many gaped openly as they were herded by to the showers. They were so healthy and looked so alive, she could not help but to feel jealous.
They were not given a day to themselves as the others had when they arrived and directly after processing, they were put directly to work with the rest of the prisoners. They were relatively useless in their depressed state and Liesabet came to hate them for they merely brought the guards down harder on all of them. In their naievity many asked for rest and water and were swiftly punished with the lick of a whip to their backs.
Despite her feelings about them, Liesabet found herself in the middle of a situation on a stormy day in mid March. The women had completed roll call and been assigned work details when Liesabet snuck away to the latrine. Reaching for the latch on the flimsy door she paused, hearing noises inside. Grunts and coarse laughter followed by a muffled feminine scream for help trickled through the wooden slats. Liesabet froze, unsure.
She decided to investigate though she already had a fairly good idea in her mind of what was happening. Her blood started to boil as she slid through the door and made her way along the wall til she reached the corner. The noises were definitely louder now and could clearly be heard over the raindrops pounding away at the wooden roof. Slowly she peered around the edge of the wall and her heart sank at what she saw.
Two soldiers had a young girl pinned against the wall, one restraining her arms and covering her mouth while the other fumbled with the mismatched buttons holding her dress together. She was a new prisoner and aside from her clothing seemed almost untouched by the brutality of the camp. No wonder they had chosen her. Liesabet's mind raced as she ran over options in her mind. Part of her wanted nothing more to turn and run but the young girl's desperate moans were enough to keep her in place. She couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen years old.
Realizing she had to do something quickly, Liesabet made an impulsive decision and blocking all thought of the consequences from her mind, crept around the corner and launched herself at the two men who looked up in obvious surprise at the interruption. The young girl's eyes widened as Liesabet flew into a wild fury; kicking, hitting, biting, whatever she could. In the melee the girl managed to escape and Liesabet found herself alone with the soldiers. They were furious at the skinny malnourished waif before them for ruining their fun. With malice in their eyes they grabbed her by the arms and dragged her from the latrine.
Liesabet thought in that moment that her life was over, they were going to kill her. Instead they hauled her to a post in the center of the compound and lashed her to it. To her mortification they proceeded to tear her clothes from her body leaving her naked flesh exposed. She began to shake violently in absolute terror of what was to come. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she found her legs barely able to support her own weight. Desperately she seached for an escape though she knew there was none.
Rain continued to pour from the darkened skies and drench her bare skin along with the earth at her feet. The other women who had not been assigned work outside the camp could be seen gathering in clusters at a distance, some watching with sympathy in their eyes while others simply stared dully off into nowhere. This was nothing new to them. Liesabet caught sight of Corrie near the corner of a barrack, wiping tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands.
With her clothes laying ruined in the mud the beating began. They struck her with their hands, boots, and whips. The pain was excrutiating and uncontrollable screams and yelps tore from deep within Liesabet's chest until she grew hoarse and was confined to mere whimpers.
After nearly ten minutes of torture the men paused and Liesabet collapsed to her knees sobbing in the mud. She wondered why they had stopped only to have her question answered as she could hear off in the distance, the creaking of the front gates swing open. That sound was followed by the roar of a single truck engine as it clawed its way through the sloppy ruts of the dirt road into the camp.
She raised her bleeding face a mere fraction to see more soldiers begin to pour from the truck and head off into separate directions. They were a young, fresh-faced group, with very few of them probably ever even knowing that such a place existed. A few made their way towards the women's compound accompanied by a very tall and stern looking officer who seemed to be in command.
When he had made his way inside and over to where the small crowd had gathered, one of the guards quickly made his way to his side and spoke quietly into his ear. The tall man gave a glance at Liesabet and shrugged his broad shoulders, clearly disinterested in the situation.
And so the beating continued uninterrupted as the officer and his men merely stood to the side and watched. Towards the end Liesabet could no longer even hold her head up and was completely face-down in the mud, nearly unconscious and delirious with the pain. Blood ran from her face and body. She suspected her arm was broken for it hung at an odd angle by her side. Her sides burned intensely with a sharp pain she had never felt before.
When finally at long last they had spent both their strength and their anger, they left her bound to the post, ordering everyone to return to work and not to touch her.She was left alone for hours until dark arrived. The rain had finally stopped and the clouds had parted revealing a clearly defined crescent moon. A brisk wind had set in, only adding another layer to her agony. After a time a guard came along and cut her down, leaving it up to her to figure out how to make it back to her barrack.
Slowly inch by inch she used her good arm to push her aching body to the sitting position, where she then attempted to reach for the tattered remains of her clothing that lay ruined at her side. The stabbing pain in her sides gave her pause and took her breath momentarily. Glancing down for the first time, what she saw shocked her. A deep gash ran from under her arm to halfway down her ribcage. And in the midst of the bleeding wound, a flash of white could be seen protruding forth. She fought to breathe through clenched teeth as she struggled to stand but found the task nearly impossible. The sallow skin around the wounds screamed for mercy as it was stretched taut and any semblance of healing was destroyed. Tears that could not be helped poured from Liesabet's eyes and she bit her lip to keep from screaming.
Turning her head about in the darkness she glanced quickly for signs of anyone nearby as she grappled clumsily with her jacket and tied the jagged halves of cloth that was once her dress about her waist, using her good arm and her teeth to tighten the knot. The rough material was not kind and chafed her battered flesh in the process.
Finally, utilizing the post she managed to stand and braced herself against the splintering wood. The wind rushed past her broken body and tickled her exposed skin, causing her to tremble violently. She felt trickles of warm blood sliding down her legs only to cool rapidly and send shivers down her spine. Wrapping her arms around her emaciated frame, she began the arduous task of returning to her barrack.
Liesabet had made it about half-way there and was nearly ready to collapse when she heard horrible retching sound. Pursuing it through the rows of barracks she discovered the cause in the far corner of the compound. She peered around the edge of a barrack, her heart thudding fiercely in her chest, expecting to see one of the women. But to her surprise it was a soldier. It appeared to be a young man with his back turned to her, as he retched violently into the dirt.
Too afraid to to reveal herself, she remained silent and still in her position. After a time he finally stopped heaving and straightened, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and placing his hands on the barrack wall in front of him. Leaning his weight against it, he put his head down and Liesabet watched as after a moment his shoulders began to shake and she knew that he was weeping.
She had never seen a soldier cry before and certainly not one from the camp. She thought perhaps he missed his family or perhaps a few of them truly did have souls afterall. Whatever the case was he was deeply troubled and as the minutes ticked by Liesabet found herself growing increasingly uncomfortable, almost as if she was intruding on the young man's privacy. She began to turn away but saw him at last attempt to control his emotions by wiping his face and straightening his jacket.
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