ShadowShot : L'enfant Guerrier Read online

  I listened to all this and hoped that I didn’t show the laughter in my face that I was feeling in my heart. I had learned from Peppy and the men, while sitting around campfires talking about the war, that everything he was telling me was crazy. This would work in my favor. It was good that I was a lot smarter than he realized. He went on to say that Germany had many enemies, and to be able to do the good work that they needed to do, they needed many soldiers. That was why he was interested in saving me. To be honest, Hitler’s Youth Corps could be a great help in the war effort, and it would be helpful to know what made me able to do the things that I’d done. Perhaps it was a mistake, but in addition to what he already knew I had told the Gestapo about executing the three prisoners, the doctor was very interested in this cold-blooded revenge. It excited him. I could tell.

  In the coming weeks I started to heal and regained my strength. I put on some weight. In truth I hadn’t eaten this well since we left the cottage. I suddenly took a big interest in eating. I knew that I would need all my strength when the time came for me to escape if there was ever an opportunity. The doctor always came off as trying to be my uncle. Once he even suggested I should call him that. We often used translators. I don’t know if he really didn’t understand everything that I said in French or if he just wanted me to think that he didn’t understand. The male nurse who had helped to take care of me the first day did the translating when necessary. He also brought me my food. He seemed pretty friendly and concerned for my health, more in a genuine way than the doctor did.

  After awhile, I was allowed to take some exercise in the yard but there was no chance of escape.

  The doctor made it very clear that he did not care about the things that I had done. He only wanted to know how I felt when I did them; was my heart racing, was I scared, what did I feel as I was doing them. He started hooking me to electric wires. He told me they wouldn’t hurt. Then he would have me repeat my story, checking my heart and pulse.

  I was sure I was being drugged. It seemed like I was always very sleepy. Whatever it was he was doing when they drugged me I was not aware of it. I didn’t seem any the worse for it. One day I heard some bad screams coming from the other end of the building. Someone was in terrible pain. That was the day I found out more about the doctor. There was a Frenchman, who was a plumber fixing a pipe in the yard while I was taking my exercise. I went over to him and said hello.

  He looked at me and said, “Are you a Jew?”

  I said, “No.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I was in the resistance, I killed Germans and Dr. Mengele finds this interesting.”

  He looked around and continued to work as if he wasn’t really talking to me. Then he said, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. What is your name?”

  I told him, “I was called L’enfant Guerrier.”

  “You don’t know what they do here, do you? Mengele experiments on people. He is also called The Butcher. He takes Jews and Gypsies and others and cuts them open while they’re still alive to see what their hearts look like. You should leave here. Do it as soon as possible. That’s all I can tell you. I could be in trouble talking to you. God help you. Is that really your name?”

  When I turned around I saw my intern at the other end of the yard he was watching. He seemed to nod his head slightly and then walked away. That was very worrisome. Once a woman had presented herself as being French and wanted to talk to me. She asked me weird questions. I could see through her right away. I couldn’t trust anyone. This workman I think was genuine. For sure he was really a Frenchman. I wish that we could have talked more. I became pretty friendly with the intern who always took care of me and I decided that night to ask him about the screams. He looked down and had a pained expression on his face.”

  “Johno you must not say that I’ve told you this. Do you promise?”

  I said, “Yes. I promise.”

  “Dr. Mengele tortures people to study anatomy. I’m sorry. I know you’re much smarter than you pretend to be. Play along Johno. Play along with him. Keep him interested.” He turned and left.

  I felt he had to be telling me the truth. I could see no other reason why he would’ve put that out there. I had to start thinking of things that I could make up. But what?

  The next time that I saw the doctor, I decided to go for it. I asked him if he thought that perhaps I could join Hitler’s Youth Corps. I wanted the feelings again when I killed someone. I wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to fight. I wanted to fight alongside Germans against the Russians. I wanted to be able to kill again.

  I had planned when it was the right moment to tell him this. When that moment came, I started to think about killing those Germans, and while I was telling him, I kept thinking and thinking about Marie Claude. Then the tears came. I believe it was a pretty good performance even though it was much more taxing on me than I had planned. I could tell he liked it.

  I thought back to when I had asked Peppy why they had not come back to the park.

  He said, “Johno, Marie Claude is a beautiful young woman. She wants to spend a couple of nights in the town at the old woman’s place. You both could be safe. She could put on a dress, a clean dress, take baths, and just relax for a few days.”

  It always came back to the same thing the only other thing I could’ve done was to die there. There was no telling where this was going to go with the doctor. So far I had seen no possibilities of escape. But every day I could stay alive and get stronger made my chances greater. I started to torment myself about being this person who the doctor was so interested in. I didn’t really want to be a killer. I didn’t enjoy it. But the more I played up to him, the more I started to really believe it. I wondered if I was losing my mind. Maybe that’s who I really was. I would have to force myself to think about the happy times with Marie Claude and Peppy in the summers in the South, and being with my mother and grandmother in Paris.

  Everything was so different than what little I remembered of the time with my father. Would he be happy with what I’ve become, he died defending France. Could I do any less? I had to get out of there. I don’t know how long I was there. It seemed like I had been there for a couple months. I’m not sure. I’d lost track of time. The doctor, I believe would sometimes be gone completely from the premises. When that happened my intern would be more open and friendly. On one of those occasions he told me, “You have friends Johno. You are not completely alone.”

  I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant but it sounded good. I said, “Why do you work here? You’re not like him are you?”

  “All I can say is I am here to help. I do what I can. Not all Germans are Nazis and some people believe that they’re taking us down a road to destruction.”

  However, that’s all he would say. I couldn’t get anything more out of him. I felt like the doctor was becoming a little frustrated with me. Perhaps he wasn’t getting the answers he wanted. He started doing what he called stress tests; checking my heart, putting me in very uncomfortable physical positions, monitoring how long before I would tell him that I could no longer endure hanging from a beam by my wrists. I wasn’t quite being tortured but it was starting to get close. Then came the electrical tests. He would plug me in and sees how much voltage I could take before I passed out. That really hurt.

  One day he had my intern doing it. The intern whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry. Just try to endure it.”

  He put the voltage up pretty high until I started to pass out.

  The doctor came in and started to yell at him, “How could you do that to hurt him?

  You are never to do that again.” I knew it was just an act to make me feel like he was my uncle and protector.

  Then the day came when I realized that my act about wanting to join the Youth Corps and help to defeat the Russians was too good. The doctor came in to my room and said that he had been thinking about our previous conversation. He believed me, I was earnest, but felt it would be good to have a test. There was a
prisoner here. He was a Romanian soldier that had fought with the Russians. He was to be executed tomorrow and the doctor thought that I should do it. He looked directly at me. I knew he was waiting for me to say something. I just nodded.

  That night when my intern brought me dinner he whispered, “I know what he wants you to do tomorrow. You must do it. He is not to be executed. He is to be tortured again. He welcomes death. It will be a gift of mercy. There will only be one bullet in the gun.”

  The next morning I was led to a courtyard. The Romanian had been tied sitting in a chair. He was unbelievably skinny and had many cuts and bruises on him. The guard took his handgun from the holster on his hip, chambered it, and handed it to me. It was a Luger. I tried to force myself not to think of the last time I held a Luger. The man’s eyes were closed. When I was only a few feet in front of him he opened them and with the slightest movement of his eyes he said yes to do it. I took four quick steps behind him, held the barrel four feet from his head and pulled the trigger. I went over to the guard and handed him his pistol.

  The doctor was waiting for me at the entrance. He said, “Why did you shoot him in the back of the head? Didn’t you want to see his eyes when you killed him?”

  I replied, “Because his eyes were already dead.”

  When I got back to my room, I swore a promise to myself. If I escaped, no matter how long it took, I would kill at least one German to revenge that man.

  That night when my intern brought me dinner he again whispered to me, “I’m sorry you had to do that. I was able to tell that man what was to happen and he said I should thank you.”

  A few weeks later the doctor told me that he had to leave. I would be sent to a town in Germany. We would see each other again soon. He wished me a good trip. I thought this could be it. By now I knew more about him and what he did. He was a butcher all right, a madman. He really was no different than the major, probably no different than a lot of Nazis.

  The day I was to leave, my intern came in to prepare me for my journey. I said to him, “Thank you for your kindness. I don’t know if I’ll see you again but I hope you survive this war.”

  “You also Johno. Be brave, you never know where help will come from. Now you must go.”

  I was put in the backseat of a car with one German soldier in the back another one in the passenger seat with the driver. After we had been driving for several hours in the country we came up to a roadblock. Two German soldiers walked up to one side, and another two on the other side.

  The session was over.

  When they finished listening George asked, “My God how did you ever get all that out of him?”

  Ralph replied, “It wasn’t me, it was him. I just gave him something in his tea to relax him a little, and then hypnotized him. It was as if he was just waiting for the moment to let it all out. You mentioned that he had been hypnotized after his accident to remove those memories, but I think instead of removing them they were just blocked. So it was relatively easy for me to unblock them.”

  “Ralph, does he remember any of this session?”

  “No I thought it best to re-block his memories at least until I talked to you. I induced amnesia. I’m sure there are a lot more unpleasant memories in there. It could probably be dangerous for him if he were to remember all of it.”

  “What did he say to you at the end of it?”

  “Only that he was surprised at how late it had become. I just made up a few things to tell him. I said he had fallen asleep on the couch, so I just let him rest till he woke up.”

  “I want absolutely no mention of this, no record, nothing. This stays just between the two of us. Do I make myself perfectly clear about that?”

  “Yes of course George. I am the pillar of silence as always.”

  “Good Ralph. I will take the tape with me. I trust it is the only copy. Other than the session, what is your evaluation of him?”

  Ralph said, “Simply put, it would be hard to find a better young man for the job.”

  George said, “I pretty much realized that but I just wanted to be sure. Were there any red flags?”

  “None other than he is a romantic and has read about too many historical battles. I asked him who was one of his historical heroes. He answered that it was Field Marshal Ney; Napoleon’s bravest of the brave who had seven horses shot out from under him leading Cavalry charges. He told me that at Waterloo when Ney knew that all was lost, he shouted out to Wellington, “And now you shall see how a Field Marshal of France dies.” God, I have to admit I was captivated, by his telling of it. I’d say he is a bit to chivalrous, but will most likely become more cynical as time passes.”

  George asked, “Would you say he has a death wish.”

  “No not at all. But I truly believe that he’s not afraid of death.”

  “Why do you think that Ralph?”

  “I don’t really know. It’s just the sense that I have of him. Perhaps it was his accident and his time in the resistance. After all he almost died. Sometimes when people have endured near death experiences it makes them very cautious and afraid of what could happen the next time. For others it gives them a dauntless cavalier attitude. I would like to hypnotize him again, but you said not to push him. The only real red flag I would say is that I would caution you not try to make him do something that he doesn’t want to do. As you already know, this would include assignments against Americans or French. Also I think English and women.”

  “Alright Ralph good work, I’ll let you know if I think he needs to see you again.” “Please do. He is definitely one of my most interesting patients.”

  That evening George called Jack to see how he was doing. He was glad to hear that Jack was in his usual good spirits and he was relieved that Jack seemed okay.

  George thought perhaps he should let Ralph continue to hypnotize Jack. There might never be another chance like this again to find out more about him. Even more important was to find out Jack’s own feelings about his past.

  Early next morning, George had made up his mind. He first called Ralph to make an appointment for Jack, and then called his new star pupil.

  14

  THE PSYCHIATRIST CALLS BACK.

  I woke up the next morning refreshed. I felt good, like a weight had been lifted, but I wasn’t sure what was different. I liked it. I had breakfast and headed over to Ralph’s for my second session. When I walked into Ralph’s office it smelled like mint tea and cigar smoke. I was anxious to get started. Ralph asked if I had any recollections or unusual feelings about the last session. I told him that I was enjoying talking to someone.

  Ralph discreetly started his recorder. We began the session.

  1941

  “My mother took me to the South of France to stay with Marie Claude and Peppy.

  They wanted me to understand what the occupation meant. It was constantly drilled into my head that I was not to look at or talk to the Germans. No eye contact. Nothing. They were the enemy of France. They were dangerous and they could not be trusted. One time I had seen two men put up against the wall and machine-gunned by German soldiers, while their women and children begged the soldiers not to do it. Another time on a trip we came to a small village and there were three-men that had been left hanging in the square. There were always stories about what Germans and especially the Gestapo were doing. One thing for certain I knew was Marie Claude and Peppy hated the Germans. I could see that people were no longer happy. There weren’t the smiling faces that there used to be. People didn’t seem to talk as much as they once did, or to laugh and tell jokes.

  “When we came upon those men hanging, Marie Claude had given Peppy a look as if they shouldn’t let me see that. Peppy shook his head.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “This is what death looks like Johno. These men were not soldiers. They were murdered by the Germans.”

  “It was my first experience seeing death. The other time was even worse. We were in an apartment building that looked down on the street whe
n there was a commotion. Peppy went to the window and told me to come over. Marie Claude instantly knew what was about to happen. She said I shouldn’t look. Peppy again said that I should see and understand. Four German soldiers pushed the men up against the wall, stood back with machine guns, and cut them down. This was the first time that I had actually seen men die but I said nothing. Peppy wanted me to understand why Germans were to be hated. All I did was nod my head yes.

  “Later that night I asked Marie Claude if that’s how my father had died.

  She said, “No little one. Your father was a soldier. He died bravely in battle. This was different.”

  “Marie Claude lived in a small cottage a few kilometers from a village surrounded by woods with a nearby little creek. One day Marie Claude was making lunch and told me to go play outside. She would call me when it is ready. I was playing by the creek and I caught a frog. I wanted to show Marie Claude. I cupped the frog in both of my hands and started walking toward the house. As I got closer to the back door, which opened to the kitchen, I could hear voices. Then I could hear that Marie Claude was yelling and screaming. There was a man’s voice yelling at her in German. When I got to the back door Marie Claude was lying on the table with her dress pulled up above her waist. A German soldier was standing over her with his pants down. I did not realize exactly what was happening. I did realize that she was screaming at him and he was yelling at her. I didn’t understand what the soldier was saying. When the soldier slapped her and started waving a bayonet over her face I knew something was very wrong. I opened my hands. The frog jumped out onto a counter where Marie Claude had been cleaning a chicken. There was a large butcher knife sitting right there. Without thinking, without any understanding of what I was about to do, I picked the knife up and ran toward the German. With my arms outstretched I stabbed the German in the lower back. He bolted upright dropping his bayonet. Marie Claude did not hesitate to grab it and stick it in the soldier’s heart. The soldier fell backward onto the ground. It was only then that Marie Claude saw me standing there. She saw the knife in the soldier’s back. She pulled her dress down straightened her clothes and knelt down to hug me. Again I said nothing.