BROKEN SILENCE
Ross Richdale
At three in the morning, Kim Biermann is called to Grandpa Ivan's
deathbed. He tells her about his life in New Zealand since his
arrival as a German pilot who flies in from a German raider in the last
days of World War Two. He tells of mysterious containers being unloaded
in a sound in Fiordland before his ship was sunk. His secrets, though,
are not completely revealed and could be in his floatplane somewhere
in the Tararua Ranges, north of Wellington or even buried in back
in Fiordland.
Even after sixty-four years, danger still lurks for Kim as terrorists
are also interested in finding Ivan's secrets and will stop at nothing
to obtain them.
Broken silence / Ross Richdale.
ISBN 978-1-877438-32-5 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-1-877438-33-2 (e-book)
I. Title.
NZ823.3—dc 22
23 cm x 15 cm
179 pages
Paperback at Lulu
Paperback at Amazon
Ebook at Fictionwise- Coming
PROLOGUE 2009
The telephone rang.
Her hand reached out through the early morning darkness and pressed the talk button.
"Kim Biermann speaking."
"This is Nurse Jan Handwell from the hospice..."
The call was not unexpected but Kim's throat still turned dry. "Has
Grandpa died?'"
"No. That's why I'm calling at this terrible time. He's come out of the
coma and wants to speak to you."
"Now?"
"I'm sorry Kim but I doubt if he'll last until morning. At the moment
he is quite rational, the best he's been for weeks. This sometimes happens..."
"I'll be there within half an hour..." Kim listened to the brief
instructions about night access as she turned on the bedside lamp and
reached for her clothes.
Her partner awoke and sat up with groggy eyes. "Ivan died?"
"Not yet, Troy. He's come out of his coma and wants to talk to me."
"Now!"
"That's what I said. Apparently it is important to him." Kim was
by now half dressed and stepping into her jeans. "Just go back to sleep.
I'll see you later."
"No. I'll drive you."
*
The journey down the motorway, through the Terrace Tunnel and south
to the Mary Potter Hospice opposite the Wellington Hospital was almost
surreal. At three twenty in the morning, traffic was almost non-existent
while the few pedestrians around spilled out of the bars with occasional
shouts and drunken body language.
In contrast, the hospice offered soft lighting and a welcoming atmosphere
as Kim and Troy were shown through to a small bedroom. She noticed that
the flowers she'd sent earlier in the week were still there but her eyes
switched to her grandfather. He sat up with several pillows behind his
head and appeared better than she'd seen him for months. In fact he looked
a decade younger than his eighty-nine years. It sent memories through
her mind of herself as a child sitting up in bed as he read to her. Tears
filled her eyes as she rushed forward to grab the hand poking out from
the blankets.
"Don't cry, Kimmy," The old man used the name she had not heard for
years, "It is my time. I outlived your grandma and your parents. I am
proud of you, my wonderful granddaughter."
"Oh Grandpa..." Kim felt Troy's arm around her and was glad
he had come.
Ivan Biermann's light blue eyes stared directly into her own. She felt
her hand squeezed in a surprisingly firm manner.
"And you can still read and speak the old language, Kimmy?"
She nodded. She began learning German at high school and had continued
the language for one of her university papers.
"Good. Memories fade and I have almost forgotten it myself." The
old man's eyes moved around the room and settled on Troy.
"Look after her, Son," he said. "She's a diamond in a world
of ugly quartz."
"I will, Ivan," Troy whispered.
The eyes shifted back to Kim. "Why haven't you married your young
man, Kimmy?" he asked.
"We're waiting for you to get better so you can give me away at Saint
Paul's, Grandpa." She hadn't been near the church in years but knew her
grandfather still regarded it as an important part of life.
"Yes, the local Lutheran church. I should have married your grandmother
there, you know."
Kim squeezed the pale hand. "I know, Grandpa. That's why we're waiting
for you to be with us."
A sparkle appeared in the old eyes. "You lie beautifully, Kim. I
know marriage is old fashioned now-a-days but please consider it sometime."
"I will Grandpa."
The old man turned serious. "But that is not the reason I asked
to speak to you, I have a secret to reveal. Nobody can hurt me now, you
are a successful principal and any shame will be soon forgotten."
Kim went to speak but the arm around her shoulders tightened. She glanced
up to see Troy shake his head ever so slightly so took his clue
and remained silent.
Ivan's hand slipped out of her one and he pointed a shaky finger across
the room "It's all in my bag. Everything is in my bag."
"This one, Ivan?" Troy asked as he picked up an ancient leather satchel.
It was old, extremely old, with cracked leather work and frayed edges.
It was held together by two straps that thread through tarnished
brass buckles and an ancient lock with a key still inserted.
Grandpa nodded. "I had to do it," Again his eyes bore into
Kim. "It's ironic, isn't it, Kimmy?"
"What is Grandpa?"
"If I hadn't done it, I wouldn't be here now and you wouldn't have been
born. I'd be the skeleton lying in the floatplane instead of him."
Ivan wriggled up slightly and reached for the satchel Troy held out. "I
wrote everything down when I was a lad younger than you are now, Kimmy," he
whispered. "My English was poor in those days so I wrote in the
old language." He glanced up again. "That's why I wanted you
to learn it, Kimmy. I wanted you to be able to read my story and hope
you will forgive me."
"Forgive you, Grandpa?" Kim whispered. "There is nothing to
forgive. You are the most wonderful grandpa one could ever ask for. You supported
me when I was a rebellious teenager, you paid all my university fees, you were
everything to me." She bit on her lip as tears again welled in her eyes. "More
than even my parents." She bent forward and kissed him on the cheek. "There's
nothing you didn't do for me, Grandpa. I love you and …"
"Look in the satchel, Kimmy."
The satchel contained an old folded up flying helmet, a pair of glasses
pilots of an earlier era wore and two medals wrapped up in yellowing
grease proof paper.
"Oh my God," Kim said as Troy unwrapped the first medal and
held up a tarnished silver badge showing a wreath of leaves with Viking galleon appearing
over the top of a world globe.
"Interesting," Troy said.
"Do you know what it is?" Grandpa asked.
"No idea."
The old man waved out with his hand. "The second one will be recognised."
The interior of the second medal showed an eagle with outstretched wings
standing on a swastika.
"Yes it is Nazi German," Grandpa said.
"So?" Kim whispered. "That was over sixty years ago. There must
be hundreds of immigrants in New Zealand who fought for the other side." She
frowned. Why was Grandpa so secretive about his early life?
"I was in the Hilfskreuzer."
"What's that?"
"I was onboard a German Raider called Welle Reiter. We stayed
at sea for years and attacked Allied shipping even in this part of the world. That's
how I came to be here when the war ended."
Kim smiled encouragement, took Grandpa's hand but remained silent. He
was a proud, conservative old man who could almost be called straight-laced
but she loved him. That was why it was so hard...
"The badge with the Viking ship is the Hilfskreuzer. The other is a medal
issued to World War Two German pilots," Grandpa continued. "I
was a pilot."
"You should be proud of your medals Grandpa," Kim whispered.
Grandpa shrugged. "That's what Sally, your grandma always said." He coughed,
waved away the nurse who stepped forward with a tissue and glanced
around. "It was just luck that I survived, I guess..."
He did accept a small tumbler of water Kim offered him, took a sip and
in the clear still slightly accented voice that she remembered was always
there throughout her life, began to talk.
Published by Purrbooks
23 cm x 15 cm --- 179 pages
Paperback at Lulu---Paperback at Amazon
Ebook at Fictionwise- Coming