“Oh, my,” Emmi said, her breath turning to mist.
“I think he might give up,” Anna said.
“I doubt that Dr. Stalling and Fleck—or the government for that matter—would permit him to leave.”
“Perhaps,” Anna said. “But I was referring to his determination to carry on.”
Emmi place a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Anyone boarding with you has no chance of quitting.”
“Danke,” Anna said.
Anna and Emmi took the dogs, one by one, to the yard to do their business. Afterward, they fed them, including Nia, in the barn. To replenish the food bin, Anna removed partially frozen turnips from a burlap sack and chopped them with a meat clever.Dogs and Germans now eat the same food, Anna thought, tossing hunks of turnip into the bin.
The clack of horse hooves grew outside the barn, and then stopped. A moment later, Fleck entered with a shepherd at his side.
“Good morning, Herr Fleck,” Anna said.
He tipped his cap and looked to the back of the barn, where Max was placing logs into the stove. “Maximilian?”
“He goes by Max,” Anna said.
“Escort him outside. I want to introduce him to a veteran who is boarding with me.” He smoothed his mustache and crossed his arms. “In the future, I expect you or Emmi to be tending to the stove, not a veteran.”
Anna looked at him, his wool coat absent a trace of dog hair despite working with shepherds. “Ja, sir.”
For the morning, Anna and Emmi shuttled shepherds to and from the obstacle course, where trainers conducted basic training exercises with six veterans, including Max. Anna was disappointed, but not surprised, that neither Fleck nor the trainers had made the effort to introduce her or Emmi to the veterans.We’ll get to know them over time, she thought, cleaning out a pen. She went about her duties, more determined than ever to find a way to further her contribution toward the rehabilitation of blinded men.
While the trainers and trainees were congregated around the stove to take a lunch break, Anna and Emmi went outside to eat. Anna removed sliced turnip, wrapped in a napkin, from her purse and gave a piece to Emmi.
“Here,” Emmi said, breaking a piece of black war bread in half and giving it to Anna.
From their position by the door, they had a clear view to the obstacle course, where Fleck was working with Max.
Emmi nibbled bread. “Why are Fleck and Max forgoing their lunch?”
“I don’t know,” Anna said, watching Max struggle to navigate with a shepherd around a wooden barrel.
“He’s performing terribly,” a gruff voice said.
Anna turned.
A sixty-year-old trainer named Waldemar stepped into the doorway and rubbed his elongated, spade-shaped chin. An unruly gray mustache ran from his upper lip to his earlobes. “He has trouble grasping our instruction on basic dog handling techniques.”
“A shell explosion compromised Max’s range of hearing,” Anna said.
“He hears our commands just fine,” Waldemar said. “I think he suffers from low intelligence. Or maybe his brain was damaged by that shell.”
Anna’s pulse spiked. She stuffed her food into her coat pocket. “I can assure you that his cognitive skills are quite intact.”
“It’s only his first day,” Emmi added.
Waldemar furrowed his brows. “I can’t believe that we’re squandering training on a Jew.”
Anna’s skin turned hot.
Emmi clasped Anna’s arm, as if to prevent her friend from confronting Waldemar.
Anna slipped from her grasp and approached him. “Max sacrificed his sight while fighting for our country. He deserves to be here, as much as any other battle-blinded veteran.”
