The interrogation room at Shorncliffe barracks was a cold, damp, and quiet place. It was located deep within the bowels of the British Army facility and the room had no exterior windows. A product of the Victorian era, the basement interrogation space that belonged to the Royal Military Police felt like a tomb.

Maria rubbed her arms, the thin blouse was a poor defense against the cold that seeped from the room’s old stone walls. The guards had left her with the German uniform skirt and blouse she had arrived in, despite her desire to get out of the enemy clothing as soon as possible. Trapped down here in the gloom, she had lost all track of time, confined away from all signs of life.

She had been interrogated for hours by Military policemen who treated her with overt suspicion and barely concealed contempt. Naturally, her German identity documents had muddied the water; not a single person would believe that the Blonde German Fraulein before them was really Brian Campbell, Royal Air Force Officer and pilot.

The Home Guard had brought them into the local police station in the village of Palmarsh, just down the coast from Folkstone. The locals had, of course, come out to witness the German prisoners their proud old-timers had bravely captured. Thankfully, nobody had been particularly rough with them on their transit to custody. In fact, most of the soldiers were mightily confused that their German captives seemed to be delighted to be there, and just as English as they were.

After the local Police station, Military Policemen from the nearby Shorncliffe Camp had arrived to take over their custody. For most, it had been relatively easy to prove their identity as they had records on file with their relevant branches. In Michael Down’s case, a quick call to the American Embassy clarified matters for him.

Maria was truly the odd one out in this most unique of circumstances. While the others did their best to explain and defend her, the MPs were convinced they had captured a ruthless German spy. One so cunning that she had fooled Allied prisoners into thinking she was a boy.

She had expected difficulties upon her return, but she had somehow always viewed them as a hypothetical future; one that would forever seem just over the horizon. Actually facing it now, was a far more daunting and intimidating experience. Despite the fear and uncertainty of their long journey across Europe, they had lived in a bubble of sorts; a suspended isolation where the rest of the war simply wasn’t happening. Returning now brought it all back into stark relief.

Interviewer after interviewer had tried to get her to change her story or slip on a single detail. Most of them seemed to scoff at the idea that she had once been Brian Campbell when she explained her story. Somehow, the small, fine-featured pilot of record couldn’t possibly be the woman that sat before them.

They had at least given her cups of tea, she thought. With rationing in effect, it had meant that she had to take it without milk or sugar. She smiled to herself in the darkness at the knowledge of how well she had eaten while they were still in occupied Europe. Maybe she could go back to that little restaurant in Belgium one day with Andrew after this was all over?

She was snapped from her daydream when the door opened and one of the Military Police Officers returned with another cup of tea in hand. She wasn’t really thirsty, but it at least provided some warmth in the frigid room.

The Captain placed the mug in front of her before seating himself on the opposite side of the table. He pulled out a folder and began to flip through several pages without looking up.

“How much longer am I going to be here?” She asked quietly, “I’m bloody exhausted.”

The man looked up at the sound of her voice. He was in his forties, judging by his appearance. He had a thin mustache on his top lip that quivered when he was thinking and his dark hair was thinning in the front. “Do you wish to revise your story Fraulein Horler?”

Maria let her head rock back until she was staring at the ceiling. “For the fiftieth bloody time; my name was… is Pilot Officer Brian R Campbell, 588403. I was born in Cambridge in 1922. My parents are Johnathan and Vivian Campbell. I have three siblings; Richard, Christopher, and Anna. We had a cat called Socks, what else do you want to know?”

The man glanced down at his paperwork and his moustache twitched. “If you can answer a couple of questions for me, please, we can see what we can do.”

Maria sighed with exasperation. “I’ve been answering your questions for hours, Captain. With respect sir, what more do I have to do?”

The man smiled thinly. “I promise, just a few more.”

Maria nodded and waved her consent to continue without looking at the man.

“When you were ten years old, you took a trip to the Norfolk Broads. What color was the boat?”

Maria raised an eyebrow, “the boat?”

“The boat Fraulein Horler.”

Maria chewed her lip as she racked her memory. “Blue, with a white stripe. Christopher fell in and made an awful racket until he found out that he could stand up in the shallows. Anna caught an eal with father and she screamed so loud that all the birds took off.”

The Captain smirked at the story and continued, “Christmas Eve when you were sixteen years old, your brothers fought about what?”

Maria smiled, instantly recalling the memory. “Alice Thurlton had sent a gift for Christopher, but Richard was convinced she fancied him instead.”

“Finally, your Mother, Vivian Campbell. She has what on her left foot?”

Maria smiled. “A birthmark on her ankle that looks like Ireland.”

The Captain nodded and closed his file. “Pilot Officer Campbell, I am confident that you are who you say you are, as strange as this whole mess may seem,” he added with a pause as he glanced at her. “Please forgive our hesitance, but we had to be certain, what with a war going on.”

“What was with the wait then?”

The Captain smiled, “I needed an independent party tracked down that could generate specific questions that only a family member would know.”

“Who?”

“Captain Christopher Campbell of the West Yorkshire Rifles, Miss Campbell.”

Maria’s heart leapt. “My brother is here?”

“Yes Miss Campbell, he was listening in.”

Maria glanced at the metal grille in the door and felt suddenly apprehensive. “Does he want to….speak with me?”

The Captain nodded and stood, “I’ll leave that for you two to discuss, Miss Campbell.”

The man made his way to the door and unlatched it before stepping out into the corridor. This time, however, the door was left open.

Maria scrambled to her feet and hurriedly finger-combed her hair and smoothed her skirt. A moment later, a tall man with sandy blonde hair and the uniform of an infantry Captain stepped into the room and removed his cap.

Christopher Campbell took in the young woman before him. She looked exhausted and her clothes were dirty and blooded, but there was no doubt that this was, in fact, a young woman. He wasn’t sure what he had expected when they’d given him the call, but it hadn’t been this. He expected to see his little brother Brian in a frock and a bad wig, not someone who looked far more like his darling sister Anna. She looked a little like Brian, that was true; she had his mop of blonde hair and the same big slate-grey eyes. Then, there was her face; it was undeniably their mother's daughter that stood before him. Their mother’s daughter, in the place where his skinny little brother should have been.

“Bri?”

Maria blushed and lowered her head. “I know it’s a great deal to take in Chris, but yes.”

“When they said some Jerry woman was claiming to be you… I… bloody hell Brian.”

Maria winced at the name but said nothing. “It’s all a rather long story I suppose.”

“So this isn't just some wild getup to escape the Krauts is it?”

Maria shook her head slowly and glanced at her brother. “No, it's not.”

“So you want to be…. a woman?”

Maria raised her head and looked her brother in the eyes, “I didn’t exactly get a choice in the matter Christopher. A lot of what happened to me was because of my injuries but it sparked something… else. All of that aside as it turns out, however, yes; yes I do.”

The older sibling regarded the younger for a moment. She, and there was no denying that it was a female he was looking at, was stood up straight with her head held high. Try as he might, he couldn’t help but see his mother and sister standing before him.

Christopher shook his head and gestured towards the door. “Come on then spud, They dragged me back from leave to work out who you were. The very least you can do is to join me for a drink in the mess. You can explain all of this silliness to me over a drink. Lord knows you probably need one.”

Maria hesitated and plucked at her blood-stained blouse, “Do they have anything else I could wear? I’m afraid I’m a little grubby for the mess.”

Her brother rolled his eyes and laughed. “If I still had any doubt of your sex spud, you’d have just dispelled it.”

Maria frowned, “thanks… I guess.”

Christopher smiled at his sibling’s annoyance. “A fresh uniform and the things you came in with are in the bathroom up the hall. I warn you though, all they had available was Army, so you’ll need to accept an upgrade to the superior branch.”

Maria smiled, “It will do I suppose, I’ll have to slum it for the moment.”

“You know some of us made it back from France without getting caught.” the Captain pointed out dryly.

Giving her brother an unladylike gesture, Maria left to change. Once in the bathroom, she slipped out of the skirt and blouse she had been wearing for the better part of the last week and folded them neatly on the counter. She had grown strangely used to the Luftwaffe blue/grey uniform and was almost reluctant to let it go.

Giving herself a quick wash in the sink, she tidied her hair before turning to face the provided clothing. Before her, was the olive uniform of an Auxiliary Territorial Service First Subaltern. It wasn’t entirely equivalent to her RAF rank, but she was more than grateful to wear the uniform of her own side for once.

She dressed quickly, finding the clothing a reasonably good fit, and turned back to face the mirror. The young woman who looked back at her appeared tired but presentable; she wouldn’t win any beauty awards, but she appeared far better than she felt. Slipping the cap under her arm, she picked up the few personal items that she had arrived with and slipped them into the canvas ATS shoulder bag that had been left for her. Once satisfied, she left the bathroom and went in search of her brother.

She found Christopher by the entrance to the detention block chatting with the Military Police Captain who had questioned her.

“Gentlemen?”

Both men turned to face her and seemed suddenly surprised at her transformation. “Am I presentable enough for the mess Captain Campbell?”

“Not bad at all spud,” Chris agreed before turning to the MP Captain and shaking his hand. “Thanks for the chat Welgate, I’ll let Archie know about the motor.”

The man returned the gesture and departed.

“Friends in every barracks I suppose?” Maria observed dryly.

“Lenard’s a friend of a friend.” the older sibling shrugged. “It’s a small Army after all.”

“I’m sure it is,” Maria agreed.

The two walked out of the detention block and made their way across the parade ground. The sky outside was darkening, and the buildings around them cast long shadows as they walked.

“Did they tell you anything about the others?”

“Your pals from the plane?”

Maria nodded.

“They’re all fine, they all cleared interrogation a lot quicker than you did. Then again, you’re the only one that doesn’t look like their service file anymore.”

“What about Andrew? I… ah, Lieutenant Commander Matheson. He was hurt during our escape. They never told me what happened to him.” Maria asked cautiously, eying her big brother.

The elder sibling looked at her for a moment before answering. “He’s fine; the bullet caused a lot of bleeding but they managed to get him sewn up alright. Should be back playing cricket again in no time. They have him down the way in Dover Naval Hospital.”

Maria smiled gratefully at the news.

“So what do you want me to call you now?” he asked as they walked, in no particular hurry to arrive at the mess.

“I went by Maria, over there,” she offered quietly, “ I suppose I always expected to keep at least the first name. I think I saw it as a way to thank the lady whose identification saved my life.”

Her brother nodded his understanding. “The rest of the family will find this awfully strange you know.”

“Probably at first,” she agreed. “The funny part is, I don’t think I’m really that different if you think about it.”

Chris smiled and glanced at his younger sibling. “Truth be told Spud, no.”

They arrived a few moments later at the Officer’s Mess. While she had visited plenty of Army messes in her time with her brothers and friends, this time proved to be a most unique experience for the young pilot. Upon entering with her brother, she drew far more attention than she had ever in the past. Even Christopher seemed to notice the stares she was attracting.

The pair were seated and a steward took their order before retreating off to leave them in peace.

“You’re not bothered by all the looks?”

Maria shrugged, “I suppose I’m getting used to them.”

“The family are going to be quite surprised by this you know. Your capture hit them bloody hard.”

“I didn’t get a choice Chris,” Maria sighed. “After my crash and the surgery, everything just… ran its course. According to the Jerry doctor, my body had been in a form of limbo before. Not quite sure where to turn. When the injuries tipped the scales; well, off it went. I had a lot of time to think of there. I really do think this is how I’m meant to be Chris; this is who I am.”

Her brother grimaced at the reminder of what had happened. “Bloody awful mess that, but I suppose it’s good to have you back. A wild story that, escaping dressed as Jerries, infiltrating bases and taking up against the SS of all people.”

“It all really just happened,” Maria admitted with a grin. “We weren’t really making big plans.”

“Rich would be home, but the Jerries just joined the Italians in North Africa so that’s a bloody mess now too.”

Maria felt both relief and fear at the news of her oldest brother. “I really hope he’s ok.”

“Ricky is a tough egg,” Chris agreed as the steward returned with their drinks. “That one will outlive us all.”

“You know, I thought about you all; over there,” Maria admitted. “You, Rich, Anna, and our parents. It was the thought of you all that kept me going.”

Chris sipped his beer and watched his younger sibling for a moment. “You really are the spit of mother you know.”

Maria pondered the thought for a moment before nodding. “I think you’re right.”

“It’s uncanny,” her brother admitted. “Not hard to think of you as my little sister when you look like that.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to boot me back across the channel?”

Christopher looked at Maria across the table from him. Now he was more used to how she appeared, he saw only his sibling; it was funny how the brain adapted to changes without outside influence. She looked very different to the way she once had, but at the same time, so very familiar. Brian had been a good egg, but he was always such a shadow of a boy. Nothing ever truly enthused him or made him happy and no matter what the bullies at school had done to him, it didn't seem to have hurt his spirits; the poor boy simply didn’t have any to hurt.

The young woman sitting across from him was very different. Without even moving, she carried so much more life and vitality than Brian ever had. There was a light in her eyes that seemed to radiate an inner strength that he had never seen in her before. She was right; it hadn’t been that big a change, but it had made all of the difference.

“Yeah spud, I think I am.”

“There’s no chance I’m ditching that nickname is there?” she sighed, a half smile on her lips. “I thought I’d graduated beyond that.”

“Perhaps you have, but it’s a brother’s prerogative to tease isn’t it?”

Maria smiled sadly, “Thinking of all of you kept me going in that place. Some days, it was all I had to keep my spirits up.”

“Sounds awful,” Chris agreed. “We never gave up hope; the family, you know?”

Maria sighed. “I really missed you all, When… this whole business started to happen and I realized that I was more than ok with it. Hell, I was happy with what was happening to me. I was terrified that if I ever made it home, that you would all hate me.”

Chris squeezed his sister’s hand across the table. “It might take me some time to get used to calling you Maira, but you’re still my blood and nothing can change that; I love you.”

“Hearing you say that makes the last eight months worth it.” Maria smiled.

“What were they like?”

“The Germans?”

Chris nodded. “I never really got that close to them in France. I shot a few, but never got closer than shouting range.”

“Ich spreche jetzt gut Deutsch.” Maria chuckled.

“Huh?”

I speak German pretty well now,” She translated. “An old Dutch Captain taught us while we were in the camp. I figured it might come in useful if we got a chance to scarper one day.”

“And you did,” Chris observed. “What happened?”

Maria made a face. She wasn’t quite ready to tell her brother what that man had done to her. Even now, so many miles away she was unwilling to confront the horror she had experienced in that moment. “A riot broke out about a week ago. In the fighting, some prisoners got hold of guns and the whole thing turned into an all-out battle.”

“Sounds bloody wild, “Chris agreed.

“A lot of Germans and prisoners were killed in the fighting. Once the dust settled, most took off into the forests and made for freedom. Probably didn’t get far. We thought we’d be smarter; we took uniforms and documents and put drove out. We figured if we could bluff our way across a border we had a chance. Honestly, we really just made it up as we went along.”

“Why them? Those men?”

Maria smiled at the memory. “They were the men that just happened to be assigned to the hut I was given when I arrived so very long ago. It rather felt like starting school all over again.”

“What did they think of all, this?” he asked tentatively, gesturing generally at Maria.

“It wasn’t all overnight you know.” Maria pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t just wake up like this one morning.”

Chris leaned in and lowered his voice. “So, I mean… wasn’t it a little, odd? A woman with a bunch of men?”

Maria thought for a moment. “I’m not sure how it felt for them, but I was in denial for a long time. I changed over the months, my body had lost whatever barrier had existed to what it wanted to do anyway. I suppose it was like going through puberty.”

It was Christopher Campbell’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Better late than never, eh spud?”

Maria chuckled softly, “Yes, I suppose it was.”

The conversation paused as a steward delivered another round of drinks. All around them, voices in English warbled away softly in the background. Maria found it rather surreal, after becoming so used to hearing German during their odyssey.

“So, the Jerries,” Chris continued after taking a deep draw from his pint. “What were they like?”

Maria thought back to all the people she had met during her time in captivity and their subsequent flight to freedom. They had matched every stereotype that the papers had portrayed them to be and at the same time, exactly the same as her. A tear rolled down her cheek as she thought of Doctor Muller.

With a sad smile, she spoke. “We were invited into the home of a farmer and his wife when we were on our way north. She offered me cake and told me stories of her two sons who were off fighting in France. She hoped they would make it home alive so that one day, they could take over the family farm. She was scared; for her children, for her home, and for the future. She didn’t care for Hitler or any of his rubbish, she just wanted to live a quiet life. All she cared about were her boys and worrying if they were safe. She might as well have been Mum.”

“Not so easy pulling the trigger when you see them as people,” Chris admitted quietly.

“It isn’t,” Maria agreed, taking a long sip from her whiskey.

The elder Campbell raised an eyebrow. “You got your hands dirty Spud?”

Maria swallowed and remembered the terror and the violence of their flight to safety, the shudder of the aircraft beneath her as its guns spat fire. She remembered the anger and the hatred of their escape from the camp in Regensburg. Eventually, her mind drifted back to the cellar of a French Chateau and the smell of gunpowder mingled with the metallic tang of blood.

“I did.”

 

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