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The Crossing - Part 14 free porn video
I was an escaped PoW who had been masquerading as a woman for months. Now
I was face to face with Adolf Hitler.
THE CROSSING - part 14
by BobH
(c) 2015
- 31 -
Adolf Hitler.
I was paralysed, rooted to the spot, my brain almost unable to accept the
reality that he was standing there, mere feet away. Gerda had no such
problem.
"Uncle Adolf!" she said, giving him a brief embrace.
'Uncle'? It was that incongruous word that broke the spell. I looked
around for a weapon of some sort. All I could see was a letter opener
across the room on the writing desk but that was near the door, behind him
and so out of easy reach.
"Did you think you could visit Berlin without me wanting to see you?" said
Hitler, smiling at Gerda.
"When I mentioned I'd brought you along with me this time, he insisted on
seeing you."
This was Helmut, entering the room seconds after Hitler had.
"Of course....and you must be Helmut's young lady," said Hitler, noticing
me for the first time.
"Eva Schumacher, my...mein fuehrer," I said, uncertain as to whether or
not I should curtsy since he was Germany's head of state.
Smiling, he came over and looked me in the eye with a gaze as unblinking
as it was hypnotic, the enemy's supreme leader, the monster in chief of a
regime made up of monsters. Rather than the military uniform he favoured
at his rallies, he was wearing a fur collared coat over a dark suit, with
an Alpine hat on his head, complete with small side feathers in the band.
If I were Mark Benton I'd have lunged forward and grabbed his throat,
breaking his neck before his SS guards could react, but I wasn't. Such a
physical feat was beyond me.
Hitler reached out, took my hand, and raised it to his lips.
"Enchanted, fraulein," he said, "but why are you shaking? There's no need
to be nervous."
"I...I never imagined I would ever meet you in person," I said. "It's a
little overwhelming."
This was a huge understatement.
"Yes, I have that effect on people," he said, with a thin smile, "but I
promise you I don't bite."
"No, of course you don't," I replied, giving a nervous little laugh.
"So," he said, turning to face Helmut and Gerda once more, "let's all sit
and catch up over coffee, *real* coffee."
This last, pointed request was directed at one of the SS men, who hurried
off to find some while we all sat. Gerda and Hitler each took a chair
while Helmut and I sat on a sofa and he placed his arm around my shoulder.
"How did you come to meet Helmut, Eva?" asked Hitler.
"It was the death of my brother that first took me to Rumstahl," I said,
"but it was a murder that brought Helmut and me together...."
I then spun him the tale I had told many times by this point, about being
accosted on the train by a madman who murdered the other woman in my
compartment before I scared him off with a gunshot.
"Did they ever find the man?" asked Hitler, brow furrowed.
"Alas, no," I said. "There's been no sign of him since."
"I saw him leap into the river," said Gerda. "Given how fast it was
flowing, he probably drowned and his body was washed out to sea."
"Even so, it's disquieting to know such people are still out there," said
Hitler. "We closed the asylums and eliminated the mentally defective,
which should have rid us of them."
There was a knock on the door and the SS man who had been sent out for
real coffee entered carrying a tray bearing a pot of steaming coffee and
four cups. He laid it on the coffee table in front of Hitler, who
proceeded to pour the coffee out. It turned out to be real coffee too - it
seems hotels like this keep some back for the bigwigs.
"With regard to the killer," said Gerda, picking up the conversation, "it
might be more accurate to think of him as a violent criminal rather than
someone who was clinically mad."
"Perhaps," replied Hitler, "but enough of such speculation. Tell me what
else has been happening in your lives."
Which Helmut and Gerda did while I remained silent, studying the man
before me. He was familiar from the newsreels, of course, but it still
felt surreal to be sitting across the room from him, seeing that famous
toothbrush moustache and sweep of hair. If I hadn't known him for the
monster he was I'd have taken him for nothing more than the indulgent
'uncle' he was being to the twins at this moment. It was almost
disappointing. Someone that awful should have horns or something like that
to distinguish him from the rest of us. After a further twenty minutes or
so, he got to his feet, and we followed suit.
"It's been enjoyable catching up with you both and meeting young Fraulein
Schumacher," he said, "but there is much that needs my attention so I
really must be going now, so farewell."
He shook hands with Helmut and me, gave Gerda a brief hug, and then he was
gone. I collapsed back on the sofa and let out a deep sigh, feeling the
tension flow from my body.
"Being in the same room with him like that was...terrifying," I said. "I
know you don't approve of the Nazis, so how can you be so calm around
their leader?"
"Because he's been in our lives since we were children and he was a lowly,
recently demobilised soldier," said Helmut. "We're able to keep the man
and his actions separate in our minds. Though some of those actions...."
"You caught his comment about eliminating the mentally defective?" said
Gerda.
I nodded.
"They were euthanised, which involved gassing them and immediately
cremating the bodies."
"A belief in eugenics, the idea of perfecting your people by sterilizing
those deemed unfit to breed, has been a perfectly respectable position to
hold among both the left and the right in places like Britain, America,
Sweden and others since the early years of the century," said Helmut. "The
Nazis took it one step further, solving the problem by not just preventing
them from breeding but by killing those people, too."
"This all happened before your family returned to Germany," said Gerda,
"as did the euthanising of disabled children, mostly."
"Children...?" I said, appalled at what I was hearing.
"They were deemed to be 'useless feeders', individuals who would consume
resources while unable to contribute anything to the economy. Doctors were
required to fill out long assessment forms on any child on their patient
list who was disabled or otherwise impaired and this decided their fate.
Too many doctors betrayed their Hippocratic oath by willingly going along
with this. I'm lucky in that our small village had no disabled children or
mentally defective adults. I'm not sure I could have lived with myself if
filling out such forms had led to the death of anyone there."
"Then there's us," said Helmut. "All three of us would be considered
deviants by the Nazis - and, frankly, by everyone else, too. If our
'deviancy' ever became known to them the consequences would be too dire to
contemplate."
I didn't get much sleep that night as I turned all this over endlessly in
my mind. Lying there with my head on Helmut's chest, his arm around me and
his hand cupping one buttock, even in sleep, I couldn't help fretting
about it. When I did finally surrender to slumber I was soon awoken by a
massive explosion that shook the building.
"What the hell?!" said Helmut, sitting bolt upright in bed as we heard a
second explosion, then a third a fourth and a fifth.
Throwing on bathrobes, we rushed over to the window. Already searchlight
beams were scouring the skies above while anti-aircraft batteries pounded
round after round into the heavens, their path lit by the tracer rounds in
those bursts of fire. And all the while the explosions continued. It could
only mean one thing.
The RAF bombing campaign against Berlin had finally begun.
- 32 -
Over the next few weeks we followed the progress of the air raids via news
reports on Castle Rumstahl's radio. The first of these, the one we'd
witnessed, didn't do a lot of damage, probably thanks to how cloudy it
was, and we even managed to get our train out of Berlin the next morning
with only minor delays. However, the following raid on the night of
22/23rd November 1943 was another matter entirely. That one rained
destruction down on the residential areas west of the city centre,
Tiergarten and Charlottenburg, Sch?neberg and Spandau, none of which I
knew very well. Because of the dry weather conditions several firestorms
ignited, and for a while Berlin would have looked like London had during
the height of the Blitz. German reports of the number of bombers shot down
during the raids were probably exaggerated - at least I hope they were -
but the wreckage confirmed these were RAF planes.
The allegedly 'precision' bombing raids we'd launched against Berlin in
1940 and 41 had proven ineffective so now it was the turn of area bombing,
the problem with which was that it was indiscriminate. Yes, over those
weeks the RAF took out the Ministry of Munitions, the Waffen SS
Administrative College, the barracks of the Imperial Guard at Spandau, and
several arms factories, but we also destroyed or damaged a lot of
churches, the former or current British, French, Italian and Japanese
embassies, the Charlottenburg Palace, the national opera house on
Bismarckstrasse, and Berlin Zoo. On 17th December, extensive damage was
done to the Berlin railway system, by which point our raids since that
first one had killed thousands and rendered more than a quarter of
Berlin's total living accommodation unusable.
I wasn't convinced that area bombing was effective. Air Officer
Commanding-in-Chief Arthur Harris was head of RAF Bomber Command and I was
only a lowly Flying Officer, but it seemed to me the widely held belief
that people could be bombed into submission had been shown to be false by
the stoicism Londoners had demonstrated during the Blitz. The first raids
were terrifying, but the more there were the more everyone got used to
them. People are surprisingly adaptable and can grow accustomed to almost
anything; I was living proof of that.
While all this was going on life continued as usual in Rumstahl. On the
13th, Helmut set off on horseback for the far side of the valley where he
selected two fir trees, chopped them down with an axe, lashed a tarp
around them, and dragged them back to the castle. These were to be our
Christmas trees, the larger of the two to be erected in the Great Hall for
the staff, and the smaller in the family room for us. It turned out he had
got them not a moment too soon because it started snowing on the 15th, and
the snow fell solidly for the next two days.
Popular Dickensian images to the contrary, white Christmases were rare in
London so I was looking forward to experiencing one here. Being snowed in,
Gerda and I used the opportunity to decorate the tree in the family room,
and the room itself, both putting up treasured decorations handed down
over decades and using paper, glue, paint and pine cones to produce others
just for this year. Chatting away as we worked I realized just how close
we had grown. Gerda was the sister I never had, and I loved her for that.
Sadly, the day will eventually come when I have to return to my old life
and I'll never see her again. My only hope is that she doesn't ever find
out I was a spy while staying here at the castle. She and Helmut opened
their home and their hearts to me, and it pains to think of how hurt they
would be by that revelation.
When the snow finally stopped, Helmut and Gerda set off on skis, she to
check on the elderly, he to do a quick sweep of the tenant farms to see if
anyone had got into trouble as a result of the weather. The following day,
after the snow had had time to settle, I put on thick hose, a heavy dress,
winter boots, my fur coat and fur hat and set off down the hill for the
village. I really could have used a pair of trousers right then, ideally a
pair of heavy britches, but Helmut didn't want to see me in trousers so my
wardrobe didn't contain any. He considered them unfeminine, and it was
important to him that I appear as feminine as possible at all times.
As per my arrangement with Benton, I headed for the cafe for my usual (now
ersatz, alas) coffee and pastry, taking a book with me. Since I had
nothing new to impart to him this had neither a red cover nor a green one
but was clad in standard brown leather which would let him know only to
join me if he needed to see me, which he rarely did. Entering the cafe, I
took my accustomed table by the window and Joachim came over with my
regular order. He was still too shy to look me in the eye, but he managed
to get a greeting out.
"Good morning, Fraulein Schumacher," he mumbled as he placed the tray on
my table.
"And a good morning to you too, Joachim," I replied, giving him a smile
which he acknowledged with a quick glance in my direction and a brief nod
of the head before scurrying away. It must be hell being that shy.
I took my book out and began to read, smiling at the fact that thanks to
my need to be here every lunchtime I could manage it, I was becoming very
well read in the classics of German literature. I'd been there maybe forty
minutes or so when I heard someone sitting down at the table behind me,
his back next to mine.
"Hello, Ripley," he whispered.
"Benton," I replied, glancing up to ensure that neither Joachim behind the
counter nor the woman sitting at a nearby table were paying any attention
to us. They weren't.
"What's up?" I whispered back.
"It's those equations...."
"The ones that Franz saw me pass to you?"
"Correct. The boffins have analysed them now, and they're both puzzled and
worried by them."
"Why?"
"The first set you supplied we know were associated with the rocket von
Braun and co are developing that will be known as the V-2. Based on them
and on what you'd already told them about it, they were able to work out
roughly what its fuel capacity and burn rate would be. The second set
appear to be for a much larger rocket. They want you to find out more
about this."
"If I can I will," I replied, dubiously, "but it's not as if Eva
Schumacher can suddenly start asking Helmut technical questions about fuel
capacity and burn rates out of the blue. We're just going to have to hope
those things come up in conversation."
"Is that likely?"
"Surprisingly, yes. It's now the 18th. Wernher von Braun is due here on
the 24th to spend Christmas and New Year's at the castle. I think we can
safely expect him and Helmut to talk shop about rockets a lot."
"Good, good," said Benton, sounding thoughtful. "Is anyone else spending
the holiday with you?"
"Yes, but Helmut and Gerda are keeping his or her identity a surprise. All
they'll say is it's someone I'll recognise."
"Hitler, do you think?"
"Seems unlikely."
"A pity I wasn't there when you met him last month. If I had been he'd now
be in the ground."
"So would you."
"Comes with the job, and it would be a small price to pay to rid the world
of him."
- 33 -
'Twas the night before Christmas, or - more accurately - late afternoon,
and Helmut had just sent his chauffeur Heinrich off in the Duesenberg to
pick up our visitors from the train station. I was standing at the window
in the family room, staring down over the village as snow gently fell, and
Helmut was behind me. He had one arm around my waist and had slid the
other down through the waistband of my long, pleated skirt and inside my
silken knickers so that he could fondle my buttocks, something I probably
shouldn't be enjoying as much as I was.
"So, Wernher," I said, hoping to distract myself, "I suppose you two will
spend most of your time together discussing rockets?"
"Probably," chuckled Helmut. "I'll try to get him talking about other
things too, but he's pretty single-minded on the subject. He joined not
just the Nazi party but the SS to get well in with them and have them look
favourably on his projects, but he's not a believer. Wernher would work
with anyone who'd let him build a moon rocket. To him, the V-2 is just a
step on the road to the moon."
Whenever Helmut talked about going to the moon it sounded like a total
fantasy to me, crazy Buck Rogers stuff. We didn't even know yet if rockets
would or could work in the vacuum of space, and as for sending something
the quarter million miles to the moon...I just couldn't see it myself.
"How about our other visitor?" I asked. "Is he a party member, too?"
"'She'," said Helmut, "and no, she's not a member. That surprises most
people, particularly given her close friendship with Hitler."
Hmmm, a woman. I wondered who it could be. I'd soon have my answer because
as I watched the Duesenberg appeared, first climbing the hill then passing
through the gate and out of our sight as it entered the castle courtyard.
Helmut and I went out to the entrance hall where Gerda was already there
to greet the visitors. Having met Wernher before I instantly knew him, of
course, but it took me a moment or two to recognize the woman,
particularly as bundled up against the cold as she was.
"Eva," said Gerda, as the woman removed her hat and coat, "I'd like to
introduce you to...."
"Leni Riefenstahl," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm a great admirer of
your work."
This was actually true. However unfortunate the subject matter, her work
as a documentary maker had revolutionised the form, and I had also
followed her career with interest when she was an actress.
"Then we should get on famously," she laughed, shaking my hand.
Though still a striking looking woman, Riefenstahl was in her forties
which made her a decade older than the von Rumstahls. I couldn't help
wondering how it was they knew each other.
"Eva," said Wernher, coming over and grasping my shoulders, "I can't tell
you how pleased I was to hear you and Helmut are now a couple!"
He gave me a big hug, then turned and gave Helmut a playful thump on the
shoulder.
"You need to get yourself a woman, Wernher," said Helmut.
"When this war is over, I will seek out a wife," he said, "but until then
I don't have time for romance."
"One should always make time for romance," said Gerda, "life is too short
to put off something that important."
"What about your young man, Gerda?" asked Leni. "'Hans', wasn't it? Are
you two still together?"
"Yes, though with him being in the Wehrmacht we don't see each other
nearly as often as I'd like."
"Where's he serving?"
"Normandy, in northern France."
"It must be a relief to have him posted somewhere so quiet," replied Leni.
"My little brother Heinz is serving on the eastern front in Russia, so
that's a constant worry. I just want him to come home in one piece."
"Amen," said Wernher.
"Right," said Helmut after Helga the maid had whisked our visitors' coats
away, "we should move to the family room so that everyone can warm
themselves by the fire."
This we did, a servant following us in with coffee, which he set down on
the small table inside.
"Real coffee," said Helmut, pouring it into the cups, "the last in the
castle. I'm afraid it will be chicory all round after this."
"It's been chicory at Peenemunde for a while," said Wernher, "so I shall
savour this. Who knows when any of us will next get to drink real coffee
again?"
"How is it you know Helmut and Gerda, Leni?" I asked, unable to keep my
curiosity in check.
"I did a shoot for a newsreel some years ago on castles in this region.
One of those I chose for the shoot was Castle Rumstahl. I met them then,
and we've been friends ever since."
Mark Benton had once commented to me on the von Rumstahl's being
surprisingly well connected. This was further proof of that.
"Oh, how lovely!" said Leni, walking over to the Christmas tree. "Who
decorated it?"
"Eva and me," said Gerda, "doing the best we could with what we could
find."
"It looks wonderful," said Wernher, "something to remind us of better
times."
We all nodded at this, then Helmut reached down and took a small item from
the gift-wrapped presents under the tree. It fitted easily in the palm of
his hand.
"I know we don't usually open any gifts until tomorrow," he said, "but I'd
like Eva to open this particular one now."
He held it out to me. Puzzled, I gave a little smile and took it from him.
It was wrapped in festive paper, tied off with a purple ribbon. I undid
this, stripping off the paper to discover a small wooden box. Mounted
inside was a diamond ring. I looked up from it to see that Helmut was now
down on one knee.
"Eva Schumacher," he said, taking my free hand, "will you do me the honour
of becoming my wife?"
*****************
To be continued
*****************
Geraldine
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