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The Crossing - Part 16 free porn video
Nazi Germany, March 1944: An escaped PoW masquerading as a dead woman, I
was preparing for my forthcoming wedding to Count Helmut von Rumstahl, an
event it seemed nothing could prevent from happening.
THE CROSSING - part 16
by BobH
(c) 2015
- 37 -
The first few months of 1944 were dull and cold, and we did our best to
stay warm in Castle Rumstahl while following events in the world beyond.
The RAF bombing campaign against Berlin continued with another major raid
on the night of 28/29th January, when the city's western and southern
districts took a pounding. On 15/16th February, major arms factories were
hit, also the large Siemensstadt area in the west, with the centre and
south-western districts of Berlin sustaining the most damage. The raids
continued until March 1944, after which they ceased. My own educated
guess as to why is the damage being done was not enough to justify the
losses being incurred in terms of downed planes and aircrew casualties.
On one evening late in March, just after the snow had finally thawed and
spring had shown signs of breaking out, I could be found in my room
standing on a tall stool. I was wearing what would be my wedding dress,
with Gerda moving around me making adjustments and pinning fabric up so
that she could sew it later. This was not our first such session, much of
her work to date involving adjusting the bodice. Fortunately it didn't
have the style of neckline designed to display its wearer's cleavage
since I had none, but it had still been made for a woman who possessed
breasts. Making it look right on someone flat-chested had involved a lot
of work. I might not be looking forward to being a bride, but I
appreciated Gerda's devotion in helping me prepare for it.
In the months I'd been at Castle Rumstahl my auburn hair had grown down
to my shoulders and I now wore it in an under-roll at the rear, which
worked with the dress. My arms were encased in lace sleeves and the long,
silk train was pooled around the stool. Beneath the dress I wore
stockings, a garter belt, and French knickers, items I was now so used to
I barely felt them anymore. I was also laced into a tight corset, which I
most definitely did. Still, though constricting it wasn't especially
uncomfortable, unlike the cramp I was beginning to feel in my legs from
standing still on the small surface of that stool for so long. Thank god
I wasn't wearing heels too.
"Are we almost done?" I asked. "Only my legs are starting to really
ache."
"I think that will do for now," said Gerda, standing back and surveying
her work.
"Good!" I said stepping down from the stool and stretching my legs to get
the kinks out.
"You look so very pretty in your wedding dress," sighed Gerda. "When
Helmut is standing beside you at the altar you and he will make the
perfect bride and groom. Seeing the way he looks at you and you at him, I
don't think I've ever known two other people who were more obviously
meant to be together. You and he were made for each other, I'm convinced
of it."
"You might be right," I said, smiling while inwardly groaning.
"After the wedding we'll have to start working on maternity wear for
you," said Gerda. "I don't want to alter any of your own clothes, but
fortunately there are dresses of mother's that can be adapted. We'll need
ones that work for several stages of pregnancy to take into account
increasing stomach size."
"I guess so," I said, not exactly thrilled by the prospect. Gerda caught
the lack of enthusiasm in my voice.
"I know it's going to be a pain, but if you want to be a mother we have
to do this. You are still alright with Helmut's need to be a father, I
hope?"
"Of course," I said, "I understand that as the Count he has to have an
heir, and he's told me he doesn't want me to miss out on the joy of
motherhood, which is very sweet of him."
"I wouldn't want you to either, Eva."
"Yes, well, it looks like I won't have to."
"So you don't mind Helmut using a surrogate?"
"How could I? If we want to be parents and the heir is required to be of
his blood line, this is the only way to achieve that. It doesn't mean I'm
looking forward to wearing increasing amounts of padding to fool everyone
I'm pregnant so that we can pass the child off as mine when it's born."
"I know," said Gerda, "but I'm sure you'll make a great mother."
Perhaps I would, but I was far more interested in being a great father.
When this is all over and I can resume my old life, I want to find a wife
and have at least three children. Of course, explaining to a potential
bride that you've already been a bride yourself is going to be an awkward
conversation to have.
"How about you?" I said, changing the subject. "Are you looking forward
to your trip to Paris tomorrow?"
"More than I can say. It will be the first time I've seen Hans since
Christmas."
"It's a shame he's not visiting the castle this time. I'd love to see him
again myself."
"With only a forty eight hour pass and travel restrictions being what
they are he'd waste too much of his leave time in transit," said Gerda.
"Far better for me to meet him in Paris and for us to spend most of that
time in bed. This might be the last chance we get to be together until
who knows when. With everyone convinced an invasion is coming soon it
can't be too long now before Rommel orders all military leave in France
to be cancelled."
I wondered if they were right about an invasion. I might be British, but
I hadn't set foot there in almost two years so I had no more idea about
this than they did. From everything we were hearing here, Calais was by
now almost impregnable, with large numbers of troops at the ready. Try as
I might I couldn't see how we could successfully storm it, no matter how
large our invasion force. Assuming it was successful, an invasion
couldn't come too quickly for me. The sooner it reached us the sooner I
would be out of here. Whenever I checked with Mark Benton he always told
me there was no change to our orders, that we were to remain in place
until told otherwise. Based on what we'd already given them, London
obviously considered it worthwhile us being here for any further
intelligence we might uncover. This meant me continuing as Helmut's lover
and, unless I was pulled out before then, becoming his wife. I wondered
if any other male British spy had ever found himself in such a situation
before. It didn't seem likely.
Gerda left for France the following morning, but no sooner had Heinrich
returned from the train station with the Duesenberg than Helmut received
a phone call in his office, one that left him frowning.
"Who was that?" I asked.
"Someone who'll be arriving here this evening. It's short notice, but
they say it's important. I think I'll let who it is be a surprise, my
love."
"So it's someone I'll recognise?" I said, "Someone famous like Leni?"
"Oh I think so, yes."
This was intriguing. Who could it be? I got my answer when our visitor
showed up ten hours later. Both Helmut and I were there in the entrance
hall to greet the newcomer when Helga ushered her in.
"Hanna!" said Helmut, opening his arms wide and embracing the striking
young woman. He then turned to me, an arm still around her shoulders.
"Hanna, this is Eva, my fiancee; and Eva, this is...."
"Hanna Reitsch," I said, holding my hand out to her, "the Fatherland's
greatest test pilot."
Reitsch was a legend among airmen everywhere, an amazing aviator, and
though we might be enemies it was a genuine honour to meet her.
"Thank you," she said, shaking my hand, "I only do what the Fuehrer
requires of me."
"If you'd like to freshen up first, we'd be pleased to have you join us
for drinks in the family room before dinner."
"I'd like that very much."
"Helga, if you'd escort Fraulein Reitsch to the room we've set aside for
her?"
"Of course, Herr Count. This way if you please, Fraulein Reitsch."
As they ascended the stairs, Helmut and I rwent back to the family room
to await her return.
"When you told me to expect a surprise visitor at short notice I
certainly didn't imagine it would be her," I said. "Do we know why she's
here?"
"Well, she's recently become involved with the V-1 programme, so there's
that, but she said it concerned Wernher von Braun and that she didn't
want to tell me what it was over the phone."
"Should we be worried for Wernher?"
"I don't know," he admitted, "but while she's here you need to bear in
mind that as charming as she can be, Hanna is a committed Nazi. Unlike
Werner, who joined the party solely to help get his rockets built, she's
a true believer who worships Hitler."
"Oh, that's disappointing," I said. "Where did you two meet?"
"On one of my visits to Peenemunde. Given that was where the Luftwaffe
tested their experimental aircraft prior to the RAF raid last August, she
naturally spent a lot of time there. I invited her to visit me at the
castle and she has, several times. She and Gerda have become quite
friendly, too."
There it was again; Helmut's ability to make connections with all manner
of interesting and influential people. Some of it was serendipity, I'm
sure, but you still have to be able to seize such opportunities whenever
they present themselves.
Hanna returned about fifteen minutes later, wearing an evening gown and
having applied make-up.
"You look stunning," said Helmut, looking her over admiringly.
"You really do," I agreed, and she did. While not conventionally pretty
she 'scrubbed up nicely', as we'd say in England.
"Thank you," she said. "I remembered you dress for dinner at Castle
Rumstahl so I made sure to bring proper clothing with me. Besides, what
girl is going to turn down an opportunity to dress up?"
One of the servants brought in a tray bearing a brandy decanter and three
crystal glasses. Helmut poured the brandy for us.
"To the Fuehrer!" said Hanna raising her glass.
"The Fuehrer!" we echoed, raising ours.
Not a toast Helmut or I would have chosen, but she had pre-empted us.
"So," said Helmut, sipping his brandy, "not that it isn't delightful to
have you here as always, but why did you need to see me, Hanna?"
"Have you been in contact with von Braun recently?"
"Not in the last week or so. Why do you ask?"
"Because he's been arrested."
"What? On what grounds?"
"Back in February, Himmler summoned him to his Hochwald headquarters in
East Prussia. He wanted to increase his power-base within the regime, and
planned on putting his own man, Hans Kammler, in charge of all German
armament programmes, including the V-2 development programme at
Peenem?nde. He suggested von Braun work more closely with Kammler to
solve the problems of the V-2. Von Braun declined the offer, claiming
these were merely technical and he was confident they would be solved
with Walter Dornberger's assistance. This was not what Himmler wanted to
hear, so that was when he decided to move against him."
"How?"
"What von Braun didn't know was he'd been under SD surveillance since
October. One evening during a social gathering at an engineer's house in
Peenemunde, he and his colleagues Riedel and Gr?ttrup apparently
expressed regret that they were not working on a spaceship and that the
war was not going well. Unfortunately for them, a young female dentist
who was present was an SS spy. She reported their "defeatist" comments to
Himmler."
"That wasn't enough to get Wernher arrested, surely?"
"Not by itself, no, but Himmler claimed he was a communist sympathizer
and had attempted to sabotage the V-2 programme."
"That's absurd!" Helmut protested. "Wernher's no more a communist than I
am, and he'd sooner cut his own wrists than do anything to harm his
beloved rockets."
"I agree, but von Braun has his own government-provided aircraft and
there was concern this could allow him to escape to England, so he was
arrested by the Gestapo. They detained him on March 14th, and he was
taken to a Gestapo cell in Stettin. So far as I'm aware, he's still
there. Which is why I'm here. Himmler is trying to keep von Braun's
arrest secret until his takeover is a fait accompli. You need to contact
Walter Dornberger and appraise him of the situation. Together you may be
able to use your influence to secure von Braun's release."
Helmut rubbed his chin, thoughtfully.
"Dornberger was named Senior Artillery Commander 191 in January. He's
currently headquartered at Maisons-Lafitte near Saint Germain and I fully
expect him to be given complete authority for anti-aircraft rocket
development before the end of the year. I don't speak to him as often as
I used to since he took up his new appointment but I do have his number.
I'll ring him right now. If you ladies will excuse me."
"Of course," said Hanna.
Leaving for his study, Helmut left the two of us alone.
"We should move through to the dining room," I said.
"Will Gerda be joining us? I'd love to catch up with her."
"Alas, no," I said. "She's on her way to Paris to spend the weekend with
her boyfriend. With any luck she'll be there by now."
"Have you met him?" she asked as we entered the dining room.
"Yes. He's visited the castle twice since I've been staying here, once
during the summer and again over Christmas."
"What's he like?" she asked, as eager to know about her friend's love
life as any other woman would be.
"His name's Hans Strohmann and he's a Leutnant in the Wehrmacht. He's
also very, very, handsome - as handsome as a Hollywood movie star."
"Lucky girl!" said Hanna, wistfully. "I imagine they're going to spend
most of the weekend horizontal?"
"That was Gerda's plan, yes."
"And how about you, Eva? How did you and Helmut meet?"
As a fellow aviator I'd hoped we might discuss flying, but Hanna was
obviously more interested in girl talk. Oh well, so be it. I gave her the
same version of our meeting I'd given Hitler. By the time I finished,
Helmut had returned.
"I managed to get through to Walter Dornberger," he said. "He's going to
use his contacts in the Abwehr in Berlin to see if he can't at least get
Wernher a conditional release. Damn it! I've done what I could in the
past to prevent Himmler getting his sticky hands on Peenemunde, but he
could succeed this time."
Hanna stiffened at the mention of Peenemunde.
"Is it allowed to discuss these matters in front of someone without
security clearance?" she said, glancing at me.
"Eva is a daughter of the Fatherland, a loyal German, and my fiancee,"
said Helmut. "I trust her with my life. Also, these things will be common
knowledge very soon, and the enemy already knows about them anyway, hence
the bombing of Peenemunde."
"Perhaps," she said, pausing to consider this, "but they don't know
everything. They don't know about Operation Suicide."
"'Operation Suicide'?" said Helmut, frowning. "I've never heard of it."
"You wouldn't have. I presented my idea for bomb-laden gliders to the
Fuehrer at Berchtesgaden at the end of February. Operation Suicide would
require men who were ready to sacrifice themselves in the belief that
only by this means can Germany be saved."
"Suicide pilots," said Helmut, appalled. "Have things really reached
that stage?"
"Hitler didn't think so," said Hanna, "not yet. He said he did not
consider the war situation sufficiently serious to warrant them, and this
was not 'the right psychological moment'. However, he did agree to allow
development work to proceed and assigned the project to General G?nther
Korten. About seventy volunteers have already signed up."
"You'll forgive me if I don't wish you every success with this particular
scheme, Hanna. I find the whole idea distasteful. How are things coming
along with the V-1 testing?"
"We've mostly got the guidance and stabilisation problems licked now.
Heinz Kensche and I made several flights in one modified for manned
operation to sort this out. Though an average pilot could fly the V-1
without much difficulty once it is in the air, to land it requires
exceptional skill, in that it has a very high landing speed. The glider
model without the ramjet engine is easiest to handle, not surprisingly."
"Good, good, so it's ready to go?"
"Yes, completely ready. As soon as the Fuehrer gives the order we can
start launching them against England."
- 38 -
"Any idea when he might be ready to give the order?" Benton had asked me
later.
"None whatsoever," I'd replied as I applied lipstick, pouting at my
reflection in the mirror of my powder compact, "though probably not until
'the right psychological moment', whenever that might be. Oh, and Werner
von Braun was finally released. He was held for two weeks without knowing
the charges against him."
It was a week since Hanna Reitsch had visited us, and this was my first
meeting with Benton in over a month.
"How was his release obtained?"
"Through the Abwehr in Berlin, Dornberger secured von Braun's conditional
release, just as he said he could," I replied, powdering my nose, "and
he's been reinstated as head of the V-2 program thus thwarting Himmler's
ambitions, at least for now. Apparently, Albert Speer spoke to Hitler on
his behalf, too."
I'd glanced about me at the other patrons of the cafe, none of whom
appeared to be paying any attention to Benton and me or to have noticed
our furtive, whispered conversation, then returned to my make-up. It was
a vital part of my disguise and I never appeared in public without it, so
refreshing it several times a day was important. Wetting the tiny block
of mascara in my make up kit, I rubbed the small hard brush along it then
brushed the mascara it had picked up into my lashes.
"I don't suppose you have a location for the facility where they're
manufacturing the V-2's?"
"Sorry, no. Helmut's work covers the development of prototypes, not
manufacturing. I imagine he knows where it is, but he's never mentioned
it during any phone calls I've listened to him make."
"Well, it can't be helped. What about your wedding to the Count? Have the
invitations gone out yet?"
"Yes, and most of the replies have come back in."
"Has Hitler accepted the invitation?"
"He has. He says no matter what happens he will not miss it."
"This is excellent news, Ripley. It means I can proceed with my plan to
kill him on the day. Closer to the time, SS men are going to swarm over
the castle to check on possible threats to his life, and there's some
stuff I'll need to get in place before they do. Can you arrange to
'accidentally' break a window pane in your room so they need to call me
in as the village handyman to replace the glass?"
"I think so, yes."
"Good, and the sooner the better. Preparation is everything."
That had been yesterday. Now here we were together in my room this
afternoon. Benton, having removed the broken pane and cut a new one from
the glass sheet he had brought with him, was applying putty around the
edge of that pane.
"You look like you know what you're doing," I said. "Were you a handyman
in civvy street, or are these skills they taught you during your SOE
training?"
"Growing up relatively poor on an isolated farm I had to learn how to
turn my hand to most things," he said. "Jack of all trades and master of
none, as the old saying goes, but now the repair's finished it's time to
get on to the real reason I wanted to see your room. Firstly, let me be
sure I've got the locking procedure for these rooms straight."
He walked over to where the key hung on a hook just inside the door.
"So when a door is locked the key is always hung on the hook, never left
in the lock, correct?"
"Yes. There's a master key ring holding duplicates of every key, but if
you leave your key in the lock the duplicate can't be used to unlock the
door in the case of you being taken ill. People had died in their rooms
before this procedure was adopted, both the locks and the doors being too
heavy to kick open or get through with anything less than a tree-felling
axe. No one seems to have thought of using lock picks like you did to get
in here that time."
"Actually, I didn't."
"What? But you said...."
"I lied. You left the door unlocked. It was a delicate time, Ripley. I
didn't want to undermine your confidence by pointing out your mistake, so
I didn't. While almost any lock can be picked these are too solid for a
set conventional picks to be of much use. You'd need specially made,
heavy duty ones, and even then it would take a while and I suspect it
would require two people to unlock them rather than one. Now I need to
make a copy of the key to the room across from yours."
We crossed over to Gerda's room and Benton took a tobacco tin from his
pocket. It was filled with putty.
"That's why I asked you to break some window glass," he said, pressing
Gerda's key into the putty, "so that if I was searched for whatever
reason when I arrived at the castle, having putty on me wouldn't raise
any suspicions. But this is what I really wanted it for."
The impressions made, he carefully closed the tin.
"Right, now I just need to take some measurements inside the secret
passage," he said.
This he did, talking all the while.
"I'll make the things I need and deliver them to you in sections small
enough for you to carry back to the castle," he said. "I'll conceal them
behind Rudolf Schumacher's headstone, so be sure to take a shopping bag
with you when you make your weekly visit to his grave. Okay, I'm done.
Time to go. If I take too long over a simple window pane replacement
people might get suspicious."
Downstairs as I was showing Benton out, I bumped into Gerda - this being
a Friday she had not gone down to her surgery. She was carrying a letter
and smiling.
"It's from Leni," she told me. "She and Jacob were married in a small
family ceremony on the twenty-first. It will be you and Helmut next."
"Yes, it probably will," I agreed, giving an apparently happy smile.
Helmut and I had sex that night. It had been several days since our last
coupling, but we had now done it scores of times since Helmut took my
virginity. I still didn't find it pleasurable but neither did I find it
distasteful any more. As I'd feared it might, it had become something
that was simply routine. I matched his passion though mine wasn't real,
and I still faked my own moans of pleasure of course, but something else
has happened between us that I hadn't expected. Helmut loves me - no,
Helmut *adores* me. The way he looks at me, his caresses, how considerate
a lover he is, the man is totally smitten. Being the object of all that,
even if you don't return those feelings, is a heady thing and I can't
help feeling guilty that this love affair is such a one-sided thing, that
I'm deceiving him. I'm doing so for the best of reasons, in service of my
country, but knowing that doesn't help. As my guilt grew so I discovered
I could assuage it with sex, that while I got no pleasure from it
directly it made me happy knowing I was giving Helmut pleasure. Should I
be worried I feel this way, I wonder? My situation gets ever more
confusing to me, with no light yet visible at the end of the tunnel.
Lying in Helmut's arms afterwards, watching his chest rise and fall as he
slept, I fingered my engagement ring thoughtfully, trying to imagine how
this would all end.
And who I would I be when it did.
**********************
To be continued
**********************
Notes:
1. Himmler's accusations against von Braun were absurd, but they were
taken seriously by Hitler. Albert Speer, Reichsminister for Munitions and
War Production, convinced Hitler to reinstate von Braun so that the V-2
program could continue or turn into a 'V-4 program' which in their view
would be impossible without von Braun's leadership, but the damage had
already been done. Quoting from the 'F?hrerprotokoll' (the minutes of
Hitler's meetings) dated 13 May 1944, in his memoirs, Speer later relayed
what Hitler had finally conceded:
"In the matter concerning B. I will guarantee you that he will be exempt
from persecution as long as he is indispensable for you, in spite of the
difficult general consequences this will have."
2. This instalment takes the word-count of the story so far to 60,000
words, which is novel length. This is a serial, not a novel, but
still.... Maybe when it's complete I ought to tidy up the text, piece a
cover together using public domain elements (Nazi flag, German castle,
photo of a 1940s beauty), and make a POD version available for those
who'd like to have it on their shelves as a book. I'd quite like a copy
sitting over my desk myself. Not that I have any idea how to format the
text for this purpose yet.
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