33
Ralph set off on his own for the town square. There, a commissar was spruiking the cause to the locals. Ralph didn’t know what he was saying, but it sounded optimistic, and full of hope. He assumed the Commissar was painting a glowing picture of Slovenia once they had defeated Germany. Ralph figured the taking of the town was as much a political operation as a military one. He’d read the propaganda decrying the Partisans as bloodthirsty bandits and thieves, and even when you knew the Nazis lied through their teeth, it didn’t mean there wasn’t some truth in the stories: right now the Commissar was giving a human face to a movement the locals had only heard about from rumour and propaganda. It was a peculiar reality, he reflected, that it was now the Communists who held the mantle of patriots.
The Commissar done with his speech, the rally gave way to festivities. Up the street in the village hall, folk joined a happy crowd. Drink flowed, music played, and voices rose in the cold air. A schuhplattler dance in the Austrian style was getting going, the men slapping their hands on their legs and stamping the floor, the women spinning around. A tall young woman in uniform grabbed hold of Ralph and hurled him into the dance, and Ralph found himself stomping and slapping with a vigour he hadn’t felt since before the war. His improvised dance may have been comical, but it didn’t matter – he was free, spinning round in circles with a woman for the first time in over four years.
Running out of steam and not wanting to embarrass himself too much, he bowed out to his dancing partner, got himself another drink, and sat by the wall to watch the proceedings while the sweat ran off him. To his left, he spotted Len drinking like a fish. On his right, he saw the Commissar having a stern word with one of the Partisans. The latter wore a small hammer-and-sickle badge over the red star on his hat, and the Commissar was jabbing at it. ‘Slovenian, not Russian!’ Ralph managed to make out the Commissar’s words. The badge was removed.1 It seemed essential to the Partisans that they were their own thing.
He sat pondering his own situation. Would he make it home? He was feeling more confident: the Partisans seemed hardened, committed, disciplined, and well supported. But there was an itch in Ralph’s head, a dangerous one. The dancing had plied him with an explosive mix of adrenalin and alcohol. Here he was, having a ball, while the rest of the Arbeitskommando were still locked up. The original plan had not come off, and his mates had no way home. The strength of the Partisans and the nonchalance of their officers were inspiring – to them, seven prisoners were nothing – but could Boldan and Kovačič be convinced to go back for the others?
Ralph pulled away from the wall and went in search of Anton. The spy had disappeared. His interpreter gone, Ralph began approaching strangers, asking if they spoke German. By now he was not looking his best: quite drunk, he may even have come across as frothing mad. An elderly farmer rebuffed Ralph without a word. A middle-aged woman also fled, wanting nothing to do with him. On his third attempt, Ralph interrupted the evening of a young Partisan who said yes. Ralph grabbed him by the arm and led him to the tavern where, much to the young man’s alarm, Ralph stopped him right in front of his commanding officers. Fortunately for Ralph’s plan, the Allied officers had gone. ‘Excuse me, you’re sure about getting seven of us out?’ The nervous Partisan translated the message. The officers were still drinking and smoking and looked up at the interruption. They maintained a polite air.
‘Yes, yes, it’s no problem. We are happy to help.’ Boldan tried to wave Ralph away.
‘Could you handle more?’ Ralph asked.
The officers looked quizzical. ‘How many more?’ asked Kovačič.
‘Seventy.’
The Partisan commanders stopped their conversation and looked at Ralph with interest. Ralph could feel they needed a little extra push, like Gustl had. They did not invite him to have another drink; instead, they indicated that he should explain himself. Ralph pulled his map from his pocket, laid it on the table, and described the worksite and crew. ‘We came from the railway at Ožbalt – here. Tomorrow morning at 08.00 the whole party will arrive at the worksite by train. It’ll have minimal protection: a dozen elderly guards, and a few civilian directors.’ The officers eyed the map for a moment and moved to talk in private. Ralph and the interpreter stood by, waiting for a decision.
Ralph knew there were grave risks in returning. The Partisans had the provisions, the knowledge, and the men to take a larger group, but it would delay the brigade’s plans and move them closer to Maribor. It would put them on a railway line less than ten kilometres from the Reich itself. Ralph had stated that the work party would be lightly guarded. But with seven escaping, and Partisans in the area, how did he know the SS wouldn’t be combing the area? They could be walking into a trap. Even if they weren’t, the Partisans might stumble into the enemy by chance. Including those already escaped, shepherding nearly eighty POWs to safety could hardly be the most productive use of their time; on the other hand, it could get the Partisans kudos with the British, who had supplied all the new weapons they were sporting. That could lead to more arms.
Ten minutes later, the officers returned. They needed more details.2 Ralph explained the schedule, the guards, terrain, cover, nearest local inhabitants, aware his accent sounded far too Austrian to put them at their ease. He offered as much detail as he could to allay their suspicions.
His charm and attention to detail won out. Boldan and Kovačič were brimming with enthusiasm at the prospect of the rescue.3 They had a fresh, well-armed battalion and operational considerations: if the prisoners were still there, the Partisans could gain serious prestige from getting them out, and it could also be an excellent way of diverting German attention from Ratweek. The 14th Division had still not received explosives, and the Germans knew by now that the Partisans had returned to Pohorje. Recovering an airdrop of explosives, then destroying bridges and tunnels, was risky anyway, and far more dangerous now with the enemy on alert. A whole Arbeitskommando of runaway prisoners was a perfect diversion. If the prisoners were not there, and a troop of SS came instead? Then the 3rd Battalion would lie in wait and gun them down as soon as they left their train.
‘We will move out tomorrow morning, but you will have to come with us, along with your other leader. You will help rally your men,’ Boldan declared. Ralph was ecstatic. His early efforts had come to little – results so far were all down to Leslie – but now he would be doing something.
‘I didn’t think that you would go without us,’ he said. ‘The men would probably jump into the Drava in fright. I’ll go talk to the others.’
Ralph strolled out of the tavern and into Lovrenc. A passing Partisan directed him to a barn where Ralph’s comrades were settling down. It was past 23.00 now and his fellows were in various states of inebriation. Len had drunk himself silly, and the others were pretty sloshed too.4 Leslie looked in better condition. Ralph told them the plan.
Leslie was furious.5 They had already got seven men out. That was far more than any other escape from Maribor had even attempted. To go back was reckless, and another example of Ralph taking rash action without consulting any of the people concerned!
Those who were still conscious backed Leslie, especially his best mate Andy.6 The Scotsman thought Ralph was out of his mind: they didn’t know if they’d make it home even with seven. There was a long road yet to freedom. Len, now unconscious, had got drunk on his misgivings about even their small group escaping.7
Ralph talked them through the situation. ‘Look, fellas, these guys are the real deal. They’ve survived and fought all this time, they’re in contact with our boys, and they say they can do it. They’d know better than us, and I trust them. Besides, it’s not our decision. The Partisan commanders have told me they’re doing this. The troops are already being prepared.’ Ralph set about easing Leslie’s fears in particular – he needed his support. ‘And, Les, look. One of us is going to get a serious gong for this. And it was your contact who got us out, so it’s going to be you. So how about it?’8
Leslie relented. Not at the offer of an award, but because Ralph had outmanoeuvred him. There were probably many thoughts burning in his mind. Ralph’s efforts had yielded some fine black-market fare but nothing of value to the escape. It was Lisa who had got them out, and Lisa who had risked her life. Now nearly eighty men were going to be disappearing near her doorstep. The Gestapo would come. Leslie had seen the lists of murdered Slovenian hostages in Maribor and Šentilj: he knew the Germans wouldn’t hesitate to kill the entire Zavodnik family. Now Ralph was risking all their lives by confusing his ego with his conscience.
Leslie found himself dragged back to the tavern as Ralph, Boldan, and Kovačič pored over maps. ‘You will go with Ivan and his battalion before sunrise,’ Boldan told them. ‘We’ll set up in the forest and ambush them once your train has left.’ Ralph twitched at the mention of combat, feeling pangs of guilt. He didn’t want Gustl’s corpse on his conscience.
‘What will you do with the guards?’ he enquired.
Boldan gave Ralph a hard look. ‘What do you suggest? The Germans don’t take Partisans prisoner, except to torture them.’9
Ralph understood the implication. He knew he was bartering for the lives of Gustl and a dozen others, the guards who had been so kind, their comrades in labour disputes. ‘Gentlemen, the guards are not young Nazis. They are old Austrians stuck doing guard duty because they are not fit to fight. They will offer no resistance. None of us wants to be involved in killing men who have treated us well.’
Boldan considered this. ‘Okay. If they offer no resistance, we’ll cut them loose after a few days.’10
Ralph remembered one last thing from when he was distributing Red Cross parcels. A farm where a dozen British prisoners were held, guarded by a single man, lay not far from Ožbalt. Could the Partisans spring them too?
Boldan and Kovačič would be not drawn on this. They gave their order. ‘Be ready at 04.00.’11
Ralph and Leslie retired to snatch what sleep they could.