Chapter Text
A New Beginning
Germany, December 1940
"Nurse, suture this wound for me," a deep voice commanded.
A petite and thin nurse nodded her head and wordlessly complied with the doctor's order. She had blonde hair, blue green eyes, and although her face was young and childlike, it no longer possessed the same innocence it once had.
Those who met Maria Rainer thought she was full of life, and in the occupation she held, her youth and vitality were appreciated.
Only those who knew the Maria of the past would know how much she had changed since leaving the Von Trapp villa a little over two years ago.
The Von Trapp family… She tried not thinking of them, particularly of their father, who had held her mind hostage for weeks.
Upon returning to the abbey, Maria went into seclusion and did not see anyone until the Reverend Mother called for her. In the Reverend Mother’s office, she confessed the reason behind her seclusion and her tormented heart. She tried to convince Maria to return to the villa, but Maria stubbornly disagreed and begged to stay at the abbey.
For several weeks, she was torn about making a decision to leave, her thoughts circling endlessly between the quiet certainty of the abbey and the unsettling pull of the life she had fled.
However, after many conversations, both the Reverend Mother and Maria came to accept that the life of a nun was not the path she was meant to follow. The realization unsettled her deeply; the abbey had been the only world she truly knew, and beyond its walls lay an uncertain future.
Sensing her distress, the Reverend Mother gently encouraged her to consider nursing. With her skilled hands and naturally compassionate spirit, she believed Maria could bring comfort—and even save lives.
Though the decision was not an easy one, Maria ultimately chose to leave. She accepted a position at a local hospital, where she quickly proved herself diligent and capable, earning the respect of both her colleagues and patients.
Then, in the months leading up to the war, she was transferred to Bremerhaven—a naval base in Germany—marking the beginning of a very different chapter in her life.
The change was difficult for Maria. Although she had no family, Austria was her homeland, and it had always been dear to her. Parting with the breathtaking mountains of Austria for a port city in northern Germany was heartbreaking.
But there was no turning back. Whether she liked it or not, Maria was part of the war now and had no choice but to obey orders. She packed her meager possessions and, with her guitar and carpetbag clutched tightly in her hands, boarded a train and left her beloved mountains behind.
She hoped that leaving the mountains would mean leaving her heartache behind, but Bremerhaven seemed to magnify it. Everywhere she turned she was reminded of Captain Von Trapp: the sea, the men, the submarines… She secretly wished he were there, although she knew it was impossible.
She soon learned that not only was Bremerhaven a vital location for the navy, but its medical care unit was one of the most important in the entire army. Its position along the water made it possible to transfer wounded soldiers quickly and efficiently. Most of the sailors, nurses, and staff lived and worked in the quad-like structures only a few meters from the piers, where ships and submarines were docked when they were not at sea.
The base itself had a stark, functional order to it. Four long, rectangular brick buildings—each three stories high—formed a square around a wide, open courtyard.
In the center, a grassy field stretched out, carefully kept but worn in patches from constant use. It served as a training ground, where drills were performed in precise formations, boots pressing deep into the damp earth. The sound of commands often cut sharply through the air—crisp, echoing, and quickly carried away by the wind.
The hospital building faced directly toward the ocean and the piers. From its windows, one could see cranes rising and lowering cargo, sailors shouting over the wind, and the silhouettes of ships and submarines cutting in and out of the harbor. Wounded men were brought in along this edge of the base, carried quickly from dock to ward in a steady rhythm that never seemed to stop.
It was into this world—precise, ordered, and always in motion—that Maria learned to move, carrying her duties through days marked by sirens, footsteps, and the unending rhythm of men coming in and going out with the tide.
Maria found herself very busy at her post as a nurse, which she preferred, as it took her mind off the Captain. She still wondered about the children, about him, and about the Baroness. Thus, her work not only became her passion, it became her obsession. It kept her mind and soul busy by day, and it exhausted her enough that she fell into bed unable to think or dream—only sleep—at night.
Maria was a rational person; she knew that dwelling on what could not have been was futile. But time and distance did not heal her aching heart, as people say it does. On the contrary, she found herself more in love with him than before. And being in Bremerhaven, surrounded by ships, submarines, and men in uniform, made her think of him even more.
She was able to recognize, with a kind of quiet honesty that both steadied and unsettled her, that she had feelings for him—feelings she should not have had. He had awakened something in her that did not belong to her world, something she had no name for and no right to claim. Still, she could not help but wonder what might have been if things had been different, if she had not been a governess and he had not been on the verge of an engagement to another woman.
The thought lingered like a wound that refused to close, half sorrow and half longing. And though she tried to turn away from it, it remained with her—in the silence between tasks, in the sound of distant waves, and in every unexpected moment when her mind drifted, uninvited, back to him.
Nevertheless, she made friends in Bremerhaven, and slowly adjusted to life outside the abbey. Gradually, she began to live a life so vastly different from what she had expected for herself. But with a song always on the tip of her tongue, she managed to settle into her work and into her life with the fellow nurses who worked and lived in Bremerhaven.
For Maria, the hardest time of the year was December and January. She missed the abbey terribly. She could not shake the sense of sadness and homesickness. She truly missed Austria.
She had confided this to a fellow nurse and friend, Anna, who tried very hard to cheer her up. It was Anna who insisted that she accompany her to a holiday party two days before New Year’s Eve. Anna promised Maria that she would have a good time, as “most of the men will be back from their missions and in desperate need of company.” Maria did not want to think about what “company” meant, but she agreed to go with Anna to the party nonetheless.
Dressed in a simple navy blue dress, Maria was pleasantly surprised by the outing and found herself enjoying it. However, it was not because of the men who flirted with her shamelessly, but rather the music playing. It had been so long since she had heard a live band, since the night she ran away from the von Trapp villa.
Some men asked her to dance, but she declined. Instead, Maria stood near the wall and watched the numerous couples dancing. She was so entranced by the music and movement that she failed to notice a young, handsome man leaning on the wall close to her.
“Why is such a lovely lady like yourself all alone?” he asked lightly, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Maria blushed and turned to face him, her words catching in her throat. “I—I…” she mumbled shyly, unsure how to respond. She did not know how to react around men, given her postulant past and her stolen heart.
He was very tall and lanky, with light blond hair that was almost white. His gray eyes were kind, young, and innocent. He looked only a little older than nineteen.
“My name is Johannes,” he said with a small, polite nod.
“Maria,” she replied softly, blushing once again as Johannes bowed and gently kissed her hand.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked hopefully.
“No, thank you,” she said politely, almost too quickly
“Well then… at least allow me to buy you a drink?” he said smoothly, with a faint, easy grin.
“I don’t really drink alcohol,” she said, her voice soft but firm.
“Then we’ll find something without it,” Johannes replied with a light laugh. Before she could protest, he took her hand and led her across the crowded hall toward the bar.
But fate and Maria's inborn clumsiness intervened. While Johannes and Maria made their way to a table, Maria tripped slightly on her own step, letting out a small gasp, as the contents of her drink splashed onto the back of a gentleman. Not looking at the man she splattered with her drink, Maria immediately began mopping the mess from the floor while profusely apologizing.
When she finally looked up, her hands froze mid-motion, she saw that the man before her did not show irritation or anger. Instead, there was shock—deep, unmistakable shock—which reflected exactly what she felt.
Maria's face began to burn as she looked into the gentleman's eyes, those eyes that she had last seen while dancing the Landler so long ago.