Brian opened the door slowly and scanned the room as he looked for the others. Matheson was stood with his back to him on the far side of the room reading a document, otherwise the room was mercifully empty.

“I’m done, I suppose,” Brian called. His heart pounded, uncertain of what his friend would think once he turned around.

Andrew had used his time productively and was dressed from head to toe in the uniform of a Luftwaffe Major. The uniform fitted him smartly and made a stark contrast to the image of the scruffy, torn Navy uniform that Brian was so used to seeing him in. Even his unruly black hair had been slicked back with wax giving him a debonair and cool appearance. He had even shaved his face clean.

Upon hearing Brian’s voice, Andrew turned. His mouth opened as though he had intended to say something but the words seemed to fail him the moment his eyes landed on his friend. While he had expected Brian to look passably female, the woman who stood nervously before him was so very real. He knew that his friend Brian was in there somewhere, but he saw no trace left of the skinny boy who had arrived at the camp so long ago.

“I’m not sure what I expected, you know,” Matheson remarked quietly. “I had a fair idea that you could pull it off somewhat, that it might help us avoid detection. I never… Jesus Bri.” He said, gesturing embarrassedly towards his friend as if to express his feelings on the subject.

Brian blushed and looked down at his feet. “I look awfully silly don’t I?” he mumbled shyly, finding it difficult to hide the obvious tone of disappointment in his voice.

Matheson blinked before shaking his head vigorously, “My gosh, no! You look; well, it’s hard to say politely,” he grinned sheepishly taking off his cap and holding it by his side. “I think you look smashing actually. I just didn’t expect you to look so, real, I suppose.” Andrew frowned before grinning sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I think that came out wrong.”

Brian lifted his head and smiled with relief. “Thank you,” he mumbled quietly, a crimson tinge growing on his cheeks. “Please don’t be sorry; I understand, I think. Well, I’m not so sure if even I understand this at all; I didn’t expect to look this way and I don't really know how to feel about it.”

Matheson nodded, “Well it certainly solves our identification problem, and looking the way you do will certainly give us another ace up our proverbial sleeve. Nobody’s going to work out that we’re a group of escaping allied airmen,” he laughed nervously.

Brian flinched involuntarily at the last words but kept his mouth closed. “Where are the others?” he asked quietly in an attempt to fill the awkward silence that had descended between them.

Matheson pulled out a silver cigarette case of liberated German cigarettes and leaned casually against a desk. “They’re off gathering a few items we need. The other prisoners have mostly scarpered, so no worry of being shot for wearing these Jerry uniforms.”

What do we do next?” he asked, walking over to join Matheson, his hands clasped nervously in front of his body.

Taking a drag on his cigarette and exhaling before responding, Matheson pulled a map from the pile of papers on the table and pointed to the location of the camp. “We take the staff car and Kubelwagen we've rustled up and we make our way north out of the forest here,” he drew a line upwards. “Once we hit the main road we head towards the city of Regensburg and make our way west from there. The biggest priority is getting away from the camp before any response force arrives. I’ll tell you the fine details once we’re all back together,” he added tapping his nose conspiratorially.

Maddox and Down returned a few moments later, both similarly attired and groomed to resemble their new German identities Maddox, like his compatriot Andrew was the model of the Nazi officer. “What do you think eh Boss,” Maddox grinned. “We’re ready to go when you are. Is Campbell back yet?”

Matheson chose that moment to step aside, allowing them a full view of their younger comrade. Flushing with embarrassment, Brian could only look at his feet as the two airmen gawped at him.

“Well I'll be damned,” Maddox muttered. “I don’t suppose I saw that coming.”

“It was my idea to use the identity papers and clothes from the dead Jerry woman.” Matheson offered holding his hands up in submission. “I figure if sh, he's, good enough to fool you bunch, the Jerries won't have a clue. He’s not a big chap and a bit boyish so as long as nobody pays much attention, my plan will work.”

“You think dressing him up as a Fraulein is going to help us to escape occupied Europe?” Down asked skeptically. “I mean sure, he looks the part, but that's a bit of an odd one isn't it?” he added looking across at Brian. “Man, you look way too convincing like that. Was this really Matheson's idea, or are you a bit queer or something?”

Brian opened his mouth to protest when Matheson cut him off. “Stop right there,” he interjected angrily. “Brian is taking the biggest risk here. If he's captured, you know what would happen to him. None of us will make it back to a camp after this scheme regardless. We are out of uniform and masquerading as bloody Germans; they will shoot the lot of us on the spot as spies. Brian? they’ll do far worse to him if we’re discovered.”

Andrew allowed the sobering conclusion to hang for a moment before continuing. “I suggested this, and Brian reluctantly agreed. If you hadn't noticed, we have only five sets of Identification documents to choose from, and he has the best chance of pulling off this little ruse. If anything, he's got a bigger pair than you Down.” Matheson added tersely.

“Too right,” Down admitted grudgingly, “But which pair are you talking about?” He added grinning at his own joke.

“Those do look rather real from this distance,” Maddox agreed glancing politely at Brian's decolletage with a raised eyebrow. “What did you do to get it to look like that?” He asked stepping forward for a closer look.

Brian backed up quickly, bumping into the desk. He began to shrug until he realized what the motion did to his chest and instead folded his arms across his breasts and blushed furiously. “Uh, some clever make-up. With my size I was always picked to play the leading lady in school plays, you know how it is,” he waved sheepishly.

“I'm certainly convinced,” Daniel Maddox agreed, “I'll be damned if I can tell and I know who you are. Bloody good job I suppose.”

Hamley entered through the main door. “The cars are ready and refueled sir, we should be read…Fuckin’ Hell.”

Matheson’s cool exterior cracked at the Irishman’s exclamation and he laughed deeply. “Now that’s a proper reaction old boy.”

“I don’t think this is particularly funny,” Brian complained hotly, crossing his arms under his breasts.

Matheson disguised a smirk at the young pilot’s reaction. “Arthur, Brian here has agreed to a bit more of a dramatic disguise to help us slip past the Jerries. I think you’ll agree he’s the only one of us that might pull it off.”

Hamley scratched his head and shrugged. “Aye, no debate the lad looks like a lass at the moment, and that's right strange enough, But how can he convince them he is one? Behave like a lady and whatnot,” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It's one thing to look like a lass, but if he wanders around like a scrum half, he's going to draw attention to us. The wrong sort.”

Andrew Matheson thought for a moment, “Point taken, but, as Brian said, he was a bit of a thespian in his school days. From the sound of it, this isn't his first cameo in skirts, I'm sure he can manage to fool a few Krauts.”

Hamley raised an eyebrow and looked at Brian more closely. “It’s a good idea sure enough, but are you ok with it lad?”

Brian shifted awkwardly under the group’s gaze. “I suppose we have little choice, and arguably it does seem to work. For the greater good and all that?”

“So are we good to go?” Matheson interjected, drawing the group's attention back to himself.

“We have uniforms, weapons, transport, and money, “I suggest we make best speed for the land of Clocks and Chocolate eh chaps?”

Stepping out once again into the open air, Brian was acutely aware of the eyes of the group on him as they walked. He knew it would take time for them to adapt to his new appearance, hell, he was not even sure if he would ever get used to it himself. The clothes provided constant new sensations that seemed to remind him at every opportunity how he was dressed. The skirt restricted his stride and the shoes tilted his center of gravity forward.

The camp seemed to be deserted, the vast majority of prisoners having already fled into the forests around them.

“It feels, strange here now,” Brian muttered quietly to Andrew as they walked over to the waiting vehicles.

Matheson nodded as he lifted the cases into the boot of the staff car. “Surreal after the last few months isn’t it?”

“Do you really think this will work?”

“Which part? you, or the escape?”

“You know what I mean,” Brian frowned.

Matheson looked at the others for a moment and then back at Brian. “I think we have the right people to make this work.”

Brian considered the meaning of his friend’s words for a moment before nodding. At that moment, he didn’t really care what happened to the others in the camp. These men, however, were his friends. He knew that they would do what it took to survive.

He was about to board the staff car when he glanced across the yard and spotted the clinic building, its door swinging gently in the breeze. He glanced over at Andrew and then back at the clinic, “I’ll…be back.”

Matheson followed his gaze and simply nodded. “Don’t take too long, we need to get out of here.”
“I will, I promise.”

Brian drew the luger from its holster and stepped cautiously into the open door of the clinic. The building appeared to have been ransacked like the rest of the camp, with papers and furniture lying haphazardly across the floor. He removed the side cap from his head and tucked it into the epaulet of his jacket, hoping to make his silhouette less German should he meet another prisoner. He considered calling out but didn’t know whether English or German would meet with a response of gunfire.

Stepping into the rear corridor that led to the treatment rooms, he stepped around a discarded chair and nearly slipped in a smear of blood across the wooden floor. The blood was fresh, and it appeared to trail in a smear back towards one of the rearmost rooms. His heart in his mouth, Brian edged forward, the gun raised in his hands. He knew he had to press onward, but the fear that gripped him was monumental.

The door was open, and he peered cautiously into the room as best he could without exposing himself unnecessarily. It was empty, but the blood seemed to vanish out of sight into the far corner that he couldn’t see from his current position. A sound within the room caught his attention and he gripped the pistol tighter. “Who is there?” he called cautiously. “wer'st da?”

“Brian?” a weak voice responded, almost uncertainly from the bowels of the room.

Brian rounded the doorframe and spotted the crumpled body of Doctor Muller propped up beside a cabinet, its door wide open, a smear of blood running down the white-painted front.

“Doctor, my god, are you… you’re… where are you hit?” Brian rushed across the room and knelt beside the older man.

Muller frowned and looked at him strangely, “Who are… wait, no… Brian?”

It took him a second to remember why the older Doctor seemed so confounded by him. Brian blushed and inclined his head. “I uh, it’s a long story.”

Muller regarded him for a second, his skin was pale and he looked so very tired. There was blood in the corner of his mouth and his chest was a mass of red behind the dressings he was weakly holding to himself. “You are… I did not expect.” he grimaced in pain before smiling weakly. “It does suit you though, but I think you know that.”

Brian shook his head sadly. “It’s for the group, to help us blend in better.” he offered weakly.

Muller chuckled dryly before pain seemed to wrack his body. “Yes, a German uniform might have been, but your choice speaks volumes Fraulein.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to say that yet.”

Muller looked at him long and hard and smiled. “It is, I think, the only one you could have worn. We might be enemies, but I do hope you make it out of here Fraulein Campbell.”

“That sounds strange,” Brian admitted uncertainly.

“Get used to it.”

Brian lifted one of the dressings carefully, “Where are you hurt? How bad is it?”

“The chest and abdomen I am afraid,” Muller grimaced. “I am, not to go unpunished it would seem.”

“The prisoners did this? Our men?”

Muller nodded weakly, “They came to steal, once they broke out of the camp. They did not care that I treated their injuries or mended their bones. They were… there was a lust for revenge. I do not blame them.”

Brian felt a tear roll down his cheek as he took the doctor’s hand. “I’m so very sorry.”

Muller looked at him for a moment, his eyes penetrating deep into Brian’s soul. “You might think of this as a disguise of the moment, a convenient ruse to get you home Fraulein Campbell, but I think you will struggle to take it off at the end of your journey.”

Brian chose to ignore the implication. “You think we’ll make it?”

Muller grimaced and seemed to pale even further. “You are with who? Those men from your hut? The two navy pilots and the American?”

“And Arthur Hamley, the Irishman.”

Muller nodded and smiled fondly. “This will be Lieutenant Commander Matheson’s idea I suspect. They are good men; strong and intelligent. They think before they act and they do not partake in fool's errands. I have all the faith that you will make it.”

“I have to help you,” Brian almost whined, squeezing the doctor’s hand.

“My dear, my time here is done.” Muller croaked. “I am not long for this earth. I did what I could when I was able to. I hope I brought some modicum of humanity to you all. My duty here was not in vain. Just promise me you will not allow yourself to be driven by society’s expectations of you; be who you are meant to be and live your life. You are a smart young woman, you will go far.”

“I’m so sorry,” Brian whispered.

“Do not be sorry for me child.” Muller smiled. “I go to god with a clear soul. I dedicated my life to helping others, no matter who they were. It has, I think earned me some favor with Saint Peter.”

“Thank you; for helping me,” Brian whispered.

He didn’t know why, but driven by a sudden urge, he leaned forwards and kissed the old man gently on the cheek. Sitting back, tears rolling down his face, he watched the last of the light slip from the old Doctor’s eyes. Muller’s fingers relaxed in his and suddenly, the man was gone.

Brian held the man’s hand for a few moments longer. The German had been kind to him; a good person in a terrible place that had only wanted to help others. What his countrymen had done to the kindly doctor made him feel horrible guilt.

“Brian?”

Flinching, Brian grabbed the luger and spun around, surprised to find Andrew standing in the doorway. Lowering the gun, he just seemed to deflate.

Matheson looked past Brian and spotted Doctor Muller. “Ah,” he sighed. “He was a good one.”

The navy pilot walked over and squatted down beside Brian and looked at the doctor. Reaching out, he gently closed the man’s eyelids.

“He was helping me with… everything,” Brian explained. “He was a good man, he didn’t deserve this.”

“War is not kind.” Andrew sighed, squeezing Brian’s shoulder. “On both sides of the fence, we do terrible things.”

“But why him?”

Andrew frowned, “I can’t explain that.”

Brian wiped his eyes and seemed confused momentarily by the black smudges that came away. Matheson looked at him and chuckled. “You look like a panda.”

“I guess I’ve got a lot to get used to.” Brian sighed.

“Let’s get out of here, you can fix your face on the road,” Andrew suggested quietly. “I wish we could do more for Doctor Muller, but there isn’t time.”

Brian glanced back at the man who had helped him understand the twisted reality he found himself in and said a silent prayer. “I know.”

 

 

Brian watched the scenery pass from the window of the staff car as they drove away from the camp. The dense forest had given way to rolling hillsides and small farms as they drove north along the narrow single-track road. While not ostentatious, the staff car that Brian rode in with the two naval officers was a far more pleasurable way of traveling the narrow lanes than the truck he had arrived aboard.

He had witnessed more death in one day than he had in the entirety of the war to date. He knew he had seen dozens of men die in the dogfights above the English countryside; whole bomber crews were consumed by their aircraft as they plummeted earthward. Seeing it happen with his own eyes, seeing the blood, and hearing the screams of dying men made it far worse.

He thought about the man that attacked him, the man that started all of this. He had never even known the man’s name, but he had watched him die. The man had wanted to rape him, there was no other way to phrase it. He had planned to force himself on Brian and take what he wanted. That one death had led to so much loss.

Doctor Muller’s death hurt him the most; the man had been nothing but kind to him. From what he heard from the other prisoners, the man had been good to them all. Why anyone would hurt someone dedicated to saving life confounded him.

A tear rolled down his cheek as he watched the scenery pass by them. Muller had given him clarity in a world that was determined to swallow him alive. He helped him understand his bizarre and confusing situation. So much of it was beyond Brian, but Muller had at least helped him to come to terms with the changes. He thought back to the man’s dying words, “Promise me you will not allow yourself to be driven by society’s expectations of you; be who you are meant to be and live your life. You are a smart young woman, you will go far.”

Young woman? Was that his future? Was this who he was from now on? He looked down at his legs encased in the stockings and skirt and frowned to himself. This shouldn’t be so easy.

 

 

The group left the ruins of the camp in the early afternoon and traveled for several hours. They had made their way out of the forests and onto a paved road that led towards the city of Regensburg to the north. Maps in the camp had shown they were on the far southeast of the country, by the Czechoslovakian border. Their journey to Switzerland wouldn’t be completed overnight, but it was far away from any fighting. They only hoped that people would be more relaxed about security in this region of Germany than they might be closer to the front lines. The more distance they could put between themselves and the camp would further strengthen their chances of passing undetected. The Germans wouldn’t expect them to have made such rapid progress so openly.

Since Brian’s reintroduction to the group, they had treated him with trepidation and curiosity. While their explanation had been accepted at face value, it was obvious that his ability to accomplish the task as he had, certainly made them less than comfortable. On the whole, the men had been unable to stop themselves from treating him as the woman that he appeared to be. Often, this very awareness that they were treating him that way even in the privacy of their own company seemed to confuse and unnerve them even more.

Brian sighed to himself as he watched the hedgerows fly past from the window of the staff car. This day had done more to unravel his complicated feelings than it had to secure them as he had so hoped. His accident had dragged his own self-doubt to the forefront of his mind over his months in the camp. Now, here he was presenting himself to the world as the very thing that he had been afraid of becoming; he felt certain of nothing anymore. One part of him enjoyed their treatment and the reflection he had seen in the mirror. Another part of him told him this was wrong and sinful regardless of how right it might feel.

Although not overly religious himself, he was positive that he shouldn't feel good about how he was presenting. The calmness that had swept his body in the weeks following the accident, and the subsequent changes that made him the target of the less-than-civil treatment in the camp now presented themselves in a new advantageous light. Try as he might, he could only balance the scales of his mind, unable to truly tip them in favor of either viewpoint. With a sigh, Brian tried to force the notion from his mind for a short while and simply existed. He knew that before he reached England and sanctuary, he would have to first win the battle of his heart and soul.

 

 

The less-than-stellar roads had slowed their travel more than they would have liked. What should have taken an hour or two had taken nearly four. By the time they passed through Regensburg, it was the early hours of the evening. The city had shocked them all, for it had been alive with the bustle of civilian life. It had been a shock to see life continuing as normal in the middle of a war, a war that had already reduced England to a shadow of its former self.

People went about their business and sat outside bars and cafes without a single care in the world. Out here on the eastern side of Germany, the war had not reached them nor had it affected their lives in any way, yet. Home was a world of rationing and blackouts, home was fear and preparations for an imminent invasion. Regensburg was like passing through a dream world of peacetime that might have been.

It was seven o'clock in the evening and darkness had fallen several hours earlier. Matheson reasoned that they had passed far enough from any initial search radius to allow them to stop for the evening without fear of discovery. Masquerading as they were, the option of camping out of sight presented far too many risks: It would be difficult to explain why German military personnel were hiding in the forests of the Fatherland far from their own front lines. Choosing instead to hide in plain sight, the group pulled into the yard of a small tavern on a quiet road heading towards the town of Bad Abbach.

The lights of the tavern illuminated the courtyard where the vehicles parked. Finally free of their transports, the group took a moment to stretch as they stood in silence. Here in the darkness of the Bavarian countryside, they suddenly felt a powerful sense of freedom.

“So how do we do this?” Down asked uncertainly. “I don’t speak any kraut remember?”

“I’ll go,” Brian offered. “My German is decent enough and my accent is apparently pretty good. I think I can manage to arrange some rooms without much trouble.”

“You sure?” Matheson asked. “That’s not exactly easing yourself in, is it?”

Brian understood Matheson’s meaning and shook his head. “I think it’s exactly what I need; I need to jump in the deep end or I won’t know if I can make this work. If it goes a bit wrong we can just drive off before anyone really notices. If one of you does it, it would be too suspicious, if I do it, they won’t quite know what to think if they see through me.”

“She’s right,” Maddox agreed. “Any of us, and it’s a fake Jerry officer right after a prison break, they’ll be on to us in no time.”

“Ok, go for it. Please just be careful, do you understand?. If anything goes wrong just calmly make an exit and we’ll beat a retreat,” Matheson added.

Brian nodded and let out a breath he had been holding. This would be his first true test; moving through the world as a woman. It would be a lie to suggest that he wasn’t terrified, but the others needed him at that moment. The reasoning was sound; this part of their subterfuge would prove valuable.

Walking to the tavern door, Brian steeled himself to slip fully into the role he had chosen. For better or for worse, their escape from occupied Europe would depend partly if not entirely on his ability to throw their hunters off their scent. Nowhere was that more important than here in his first interaction with the German people as their countryman, or was that countrywoman?

Closing the door behind her, Maria Horler removed her cap and swept her eyes over the room before her. Mercifully the tavern was largely empty, save for half a dozen patrons dotted around the various booths and stools, She felt a pang of fear when she spotted a few glancing in her direction but held her nerve and dismissed it.

A radio by the bar was softly playing swing music, piped fresh from the dance halls of Berlin. The bored-looking bar girl was leaning on her elbows on the counter reading a book. Maria approached and coughed lightly, causing the woman to straighten up and smile.

(Italic text in German)
“Good evening, Do you have any rooms available?” she asked fixing a pleasant smile on her lips to hide the nervous butterflies that soared in her stomach.

“Uh, yes, I think so, one moment please.” The girl offered flipping through a large leather-bound book beside her on the bar top.

“Yes we do,” she confirmed looking up at her with a grin. “Is it just for you?”

“Nein.” Maria shook her head, “There is my Major, a Hauptmann, and two of our men also.”

“Yes, I think we have a few rooms free.” The girl added checking her book, “There is not as much tourism with the war on. Ah, yes, here we are, but your two soldiers will have to share.” She offered with an apologetic smile.

“I know what you mean,” Maria sighed wistfully as she glanced around the traditional Bavarian design of the tavern, She wondered how nice it might have been to be here for another reason and a different time. Turning back to the woman she nodded sharply, “We will take the rooms for the night, and breakfast, thank you.”

“My pleasure Fraulein,” replied the girl as she scribbled in the book before looking up at Maria. The girl looked at her for a moment before smiling and speaking in a more conspiratorial tone, “I expect you end up doing this all the time, don’t you?”

Brian balked as she tried to understand what the young German woman had meant. Had she seen through her masquerade? Was she having fun at her expense? Seeing the girl’s confused expression the German smirked to herself before explaining. “I mean, run errands for the men,” she added rolling her eyes. “They still find a way to make you do everything for them, even in the military, ja?”

Maria felt relief wash over her as she realized what the woman had intended. “I..ah, no, of course not? I suppose they never change do they?” She flubbed.

“It never will,” The girl agreed, rolling her eyes. “Go find your people and I’ll have the keys ready for you.”

Maria thanked the woman and made her way back to the door. Stepping outside the tavern, she let out a breath she had not known she was holding. Her body trembled and she gulped to swallow the cool night air. After a moment’s panic, she felt the world returning to something akin to normal.

“Are you ok?” Andrew asked quietly, she hadn’t even noticed his approach.

Maria nodded and swallowed. “Yes, we’re ok, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

Maria looked at the man and shrugged softly. “Getting all of a flap out here, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Matheson chuckled. “Don’t be daft, your first time pretending to be a German, undercover as an escaped prisoner of war, and your first time in a skirt? I’m surprised you’re not on the flood in tears.”

She knew he had a point, as difficult as it was to admit. Sometimes it was hardest to see the wood for the trees when you were in the middle of the forest. As tough as the situation could have been, she had made it undetected.

That her first test had been with another woman no less, was extremely encouraging. No, she mentally reminded herself, with a woman. The strange façade she presented was merely a result of circumstance and disguise. As she returned to her comrades, she tried to convince herself that she truly meant it.

 

 

Lying in bed later that evening Brian found himself unable to sleep. Above him, he could hear the steady beat of rain drumming down on the roof of the tavern. Its rhythmic tempo soothed his turbulent mind, but it wasn’t enough to allow him the peace of sleep. Outside the window lightning flashed, followed by the slow roll of thunder in the distance. It didn’t frighten him, it was almost reassuringly normal. He was certainly glad that they had not chosen to camp out in the forest in weather like this.

The bed was delightfully comfortable, which was an alien feeling after months in the hard camp cot. Beneath the sheets, he could feel the silky softness of the nightgown he was wearing. He had convinced himself that it was a measure of protection; something to prevent discovery should someone burst into his room in the night. The truth was, not only was it the only night clothes had had, but it was considerably more comfortable than his old scratchy uniform.

At first, stepping into a dead woman's life had felt terribly morbid. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had Oberleutnant Maria Horler to thank and to celebrate. Had it not been for the woman's cruel and untimely death he might not have had the chance to experience this version of this life at all. He would find a way to pay the woman back for the opportunity, even if he was still unsure of the complete meaning of that promise at this time.

Finally giving up on the idea of sleep, Brian slipped out of bed and retrieved the suitcase he had brought with him from the camp. Placing it on top of the bed, he curled up beside it and began to examine the contents in greater detail.`While he had packed it mostly in haste to leave, other items had already been within the case. It seemed as though the woman had never really settled into the camp’s accommodation fully.

Aside from the clothes and undergarments, there were a few personal items within the case. The make-up case he had packed and assorted toiletry items. There was a hairbrush and some small items of jewelry she hadn’t worn with her uniform. As Brian picked up each item he noticed a bulging pocket on the side of the case lining. Reach in, he felt the shape of a book. Removing it, he discovered it was a small leather-bound photograph album with an ornately detailed cover cover. Sitting back, he began to leaf through the pictures in the album. What he saw began to tug on his heartstrings from the first moment he realised what this tome represented. As he turned each page, Brian watched an infant Maria grow alongside her family and friends and develop into the young woman he had found bloodied and cold on the floor of the camp office.

The first half of the book was filled with photographs; a memento from home and a reminder of her family left behind. The second half remained empty, the sleeves vacant of photographs. This book was like the woman’s life; destined never to be filled. There would be no photographs of a young woman falling in love or on her wedding day. No images of children, or her growing old in a home of her own making. No images of her with grandchildren, or her golden years.

Brian felt tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared at the photographs in the small book. Such a small item was obviously a most treasured possession. It was a powerful reminder of the brutality of this bloody war. The emotions welling up inside him were overpowering, and he closed the book before he found himself in an uncontrollable fit of tears.

Brian thought back to his promise to thank Maria for her gift of life and changed his mind: He would not merely thank her for his chance to escape Europe alive. He vowed instead to live the life that Maria could not; to find happiness, joy, and contentment in whatever form it was presented. Her life had been cut short and his was in a tremendous state of flux. He vowed to take life’s opportunities as they came and live the memories that she never could. He would be true to himself and to his life; if that was destined to be as a female, then so be it.

 

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