“You can’t be so naive. You need to come to terms with the fact that, if you want to save some people, you won’t be able to help others. You’re not going to become their savior, but need to be painfully aware that you’re nothing more than a powerless individual who will have to turn a blind eye to the people you can’t save. Once you accept that, I’ll find you a person somewhere between Kleinerbrunn and Berlin that trades food from farms on the black market.”
“Are there even people out there storing food?”
“In Germany, some villages in the countryside have secret stockpiles hidden from the government, and they sell their goods to people from the city at inflated prices. They usually only sell to the rich, because these days, they’re the only ones who can afford to spend that much on food. Talk to those villagers and see if they’ll give you a discount. But no one knows how many more years this war is going to last, so it’s going to cost a hell of a lot to get a regular supply of food.”
“The most important thing is figuring out how to get that money.”
“Factory work won’t provide enough. People who have a hand in the black market would say you can sell your body to make money.”
“I was worried that might be the only option.”
“It would be pointless to sleep with people who are poor, though. If you were to do that, you’d have to lure in rich men or officers who can pay handsomely.”
“Wait a second,” Hanja interrupted. “We shouldn’t talk about something like this in front of Lila. To go that far to help our friends and families—”
“—is better than starving to death,” Diana finished, cutting Hanja off. “There’s food out there somewhere. We just need money and the means to get it.”
“You don’t know anything about life as a prostitute. It might appear glamorous, but that’s all a lie. You can catch diseases, and some customers get violent. You risk your life with that work.”
“I know that much.”
“You know nothing! Only lowlifes use prostitutes! What if someone kills you before you find your rich man?”
“If you’re really that worried, how about you send us some food from Eastern Europe? Even a little would help. Germany can’t import goods from anywhere with the British blockade in place. The farms continue to sit idle, and with the winter this year, an unbelievable number of Germans are going to starve to death. We’re already at breaking point.”
“Then stop the war. If the Central powers surrendered right now, the war would end tomorrow and you could import food again. That’s the way you should be thinking about it.”
“But none of the countries’ governments are working towards stopping the war.”
“There must be people out there trying to achieve peace. We just can’t see them.”
Jörg listened to the women, captivated. Was Germany really in such a bad state? Then that nightmare he’d had was emblematic of what was really going on?
Lila listened quietly as the women talked. She didn’t offer her opinion but simply sipped her tea and ate butter cookies. The women completely ignored her as they continued their heated debate. They discussed things that were decidedly unfit to talk about in front of someone as young as Lila, and Jörg thought they must lose some of their reservations when they become souls. He’d always assumed that Lila’s mature attitude came from the education the Count provided her, but perhaps the stronger influence came from here.
According to the women, Germany had made a mistake managing food supplies immediately after the war started. The government had butchered a huge number of pigs, thinking that if they reduced the number of livestock to the bare minimum, the grain used as feed could be given to humans. However, grain didn’t provide the same amount of nutrition as meat or fat, so the German populace quickly succumbed to malnutrition. A bad harvest compounded with the British blockade caused the situation to become even more dire. For the Allies, on the other hand, the results of the embargo exceeded all expectations. Once they realized how effective this strategy was, they didn’t relent, but only tightened their grip even more.
On the front lines, Jörg had struggled with what the army provided as rations. Potatoes and a scant few vegetables could hardly be called food. Neither could a bean soup with trace amounts of pork fat floating at the top, or meager portions of rye bread and sausage. Rations would increase slightly for a while after a big battle. This wasn’t a reward for a job well done from their commanding officers, however, but the portions of the soldiers killed in the fighting that were distributed to those who still lived. They were always struggling for supplies on the battlefield, but at least they were never without food. Jörg couldn’t believe how much worse it was on the home front.
Just then, he heard a voice above him.
“Why is there a man here?”
Jörg looked up at the night sky glittering with the constellations of early summer and saw the white soul of a woman standing on a steel girder. The wind blowing through the Eiffel Tower made her long hair sway like seaweed in the ocean.
“Go home, boy,” she said. “Men aren’t allowed here.”
“It’s fine,” Bernadette said, answering for Jörg. “We let him stay. Come down, Camille.”
“I’m not sitting next to some man I don’t know.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. He’s Lila’s bodyguard.”
The woman named Camille scrunched up her face, then jumped down from her perch. She didn’t join the rest of them but instead descended just a few girders to sit where she could watch over Jörg and the women.
She crossed her arms and glared daggers at the group. “No matter how badly they need money, you can’t send girls to work in brothels. There are other ways to secure funds.”
“Such as?” Jörg asked.
“Selling information.”
“What information, and to whom?”
“Did you serve?”
“Yes, on the Western Front.”
“Then it’s simple. Sell information to the Allies about the German Army and what the situation’s like inside Germany. The best group to sell it to would be Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service, the SIS. They’d definitely buy the information and put it to good use. Do that enough times, and you’ll make a fortune.”
“You’re asking me to betray my homeland.”
“I am.”
“How can you even suggest such a thing?!”
“Do you want to help your country?” Camille retorted. “Or the girls in front of you? It’s an easy question.”
“Germany’s still my home.”
“And if they lose, the war’s over. Austria’s just following Germany’s lead.”
“I can’t betray my comrades on the front line. If I sell military secrets to the enemy, then everyone giving their all on the battlefield will die. Of course I want the war to end, but I can’t agree to doing it that way.”
“You’re just making up pretty excuses. I’m sure you want to save your friends, but you really just don’t want to get your hands dirty. There’s no place for such naive thinking in war.”
Infuriated, Jörg opened his mouth to reply, when another person called out from overhead. This time, it was a man.
“Why not leave it there, you two?”
Following the voice, Jörg saw the Count sitting on a girder, one leg draped over the other.
The women who’d been watching Jörg and Camille’s heated exchange began to speak over one another.
“Another man!”
“What is going on tonight?”