Anthea s baby 1
- 2 years ago
- 375
- 0
The Crossing - Part 17 free porn video
I was an escaped PoW masquerading as a dead woman, and soon I'd be a
bride. But as the preparations for my wedding continued, powerful forces
all around us were moving against Nazi Germany.
THE CROSSING - part 17
by BobH
(c) 2016
- 39 -
"Following heavy bombing over recent days and a thousand bomber raid last
night, the coast of Normandy was invaded by amphibious forces of the
western allies shortly after dawn this morning. This is believed to be a
diversionary attack to draw defenders away from Calais, a ploy that
military leaders in that port city will not fall for. The assault is
being resisted by the heroic soldiers of the Reich already assembled in
Normandy. They will force the invader back into the sea. Heil Hitler!"
Helmut turned off the radio and glanced up at Gerda, whose face was lined
with worry.
"Hans...." she said.
"I'm sure he'll be alright," said Helmut, seeking to reassure his sister.
"They're saying it's only a diversionary attack, so he can't be facing a
full invasion."
"It sounds big enough."
Could this really be just a feint, I wondered, or was this the actual
invasion and convincing Jerry it wasn't was part of the plan? If so, that
was brilliant. The radio reports were giving us so little solid
information it was impossible to judge. They probably didn't know much
anyway, and even if they did the censors wouldn't let them broadcast
enough detail for it to be of any use.
It was 6th June 1944, a day that just might be when the liberation of
Europe finally began.
Over the past couple of months Allied bombing raids over German cities
had been relentless, with the Americans coming by day and the RAF by
night. In late March the USAAF had also picked up the baton for a while
when it came to raids on Berlin. The substantial escorts of what appeared
from reports on the radio to be their new longer range fighters also
meant there were dogfights over the German capital, just as there had
been over London in 1940. For what I imagine were tactical reasons the
focus of aerial attacks on Germany had subsequently shifted away from
Berlin, but for a moment there the chickens really had come home to
roost.
"Let's go down to the garden," said Helmut, standing up, "it's too nice a
day to be cooped up inside the castle."
Gerda nodded silently, Helmut taking my hand and leading us over to the
Great Hall, which we passed through so that we could descend the stair
leading from its balcony to the garden. It was sunny, bright and warm - a
glorious day. I knew what Helmut was doing in suggesting we come out
here, hoping the lovely weather would lift Gerda's spirits, but even when
a bottle of wine was brought up from the cellar for us by a servant she
continued to pace up and down, puffing away on a cigarette nervously.
"There's nothing you can do about Hans's situation, Gerda," said Helmut,
reasonably, "so come and sit at the garden table with us and have some of
this splendid wine."
This was good advice, and Gerda did join us, but when you're deathly
worried about someone or something it's not easy to just turn that off.
We followed the news broadcasts obsessively over the next few days,
extracting what actual facts there were to be gleaned from among the
propaganda. Even with the positive gloss the announcer tried to put on
things it was clear that Allied forces had established a solid beachhead
and were slowly fighting their way outwards from that point. I was
thrilled by this news, though I had to hide my elation of course, Helmut
and Gerda considerably less so.
Six nights after the Normandy landings, Helmut and I received an
unexpected visitor. It was the middle of the night when the car pulled up
to the castle. It was being driven slowly to keep the engine noise down,
but I'm a light sleeper so it still woke me. A powerful flashlight being
shone through the window and a pebble thrown against the glass indicated
someone wanted our attention and was hoping not to have to wake the whole
castle.
"Helmut," I said shaking him awake, "we have company."
"Huh?" he said, groggily. "What time is it?"
"Just after two-thirty," I said, glancing at the clock on the bedside
table.
Helmut lurched upright in bed, threw on his bathrobe, and strode over to
the window.
"Verdammt!" he swore, waving to the driver. "What can he want? Wait here
while I let him in."
I would do no such thing, of course. As soon as Helmut left the room I
donned my own bathrobe and padded after him, peering around the corner of
the landing and watching as he descended the stairs to admit our visitor.
I recognised him immediately - there was no mistaking that eyepatch and
those always gloved hands - but why was Claus von Stauffenberg visiting
us in the dead of night?
Helmut led him straight across to his study, which was my cue to dash to
my room. Helmut and I had chosen to sleep in his room this night, but
mine was the one with the secret passage to his study. I raced to my
room, and down through the passage hoping I wouldn't miss anything
important. I was in luck. They had started with schnapps before getting
down to business.
"So what brings you to Castle Rumstahl at this ungoldly hour, Claus?"
asked Helmut.
He was sitting on the edge of his desk, with von Stauffenberg slumped in
the chair before him. From my position behind the airbrick high up in the
wall of Helmut's study I could only see his back, of course, but he
looked tired. He had travelled here alone, so presumably the car had been
modified to enable him to drive it despite his missing hand.
"How long have we known each other, Helmut?" he asked.
"Since we were boys, so twenty five years; most of our lives."
"You're one of my oldest, closest friends. Your autumn ball last year
being the first social engagement after my convalescence was more than
just a simple matter of convenient timing. I've never missed one and
never would so long as I was able to be there. We're friends, Helmut,
good friends."
"Yes, we are," agreed Helmut, frowning as he tried to discern what was
troubling von Stauffenberg, "very good friends."
"Good, good, that's why I couldn't leave you out of this, why I had to
include you."
"Include me? Include me in *what*? You're not making a lot of sense,
Claus."
"The plot, Helmut, the plot to remove Hitler."
Helmut looked as stunned by this as I was.
"Remove Hitler? What are you saying, Claus?"
"You're an intelligent man, someone who follows the news and can assess
what it means. You must know we can't win this war. It's only a matter of
time now."
Helmut nodded.
"It's been obvious to me since the war in the East started to turn
decisively against us."
"And now the British, the Americans and their allies are coming at us
from the West. They haven't got very far yet, but they will. The
industrial might of the Americans alone will see to that. According to
intelligence reports, they're manufacturing armaments at a terrifying
rate. So we're caught between the hammer and the anvil. We need to sue
for peace, and we need to do it now before it's too late. Hitler doesn't
see it that way, of course."
"No, he wouldn't. He still believes his 'Thousand Year Reich' can happen.
But in order to remove him you would have to have a lot of support."
"We have it. There are those in both the Wehrmacht and the Abwehr who saw
the danger he poses to the Fatherland as early as 1938 and who have been
working in secret to amass support ever since. A surprising number of the
General Staff and their immediate subordinates have long known of this
movement. Even those who don't actively support us give their tacit
support by not reporting what they know to the Gestapo."
He then proceeded to name a substantial list of prominent figures in the
German military. Helmut was stunned by the list. So was I.
"The sentiment against him is that widespread, then?"
"It is. The Generals in our ranks also include Friedrich Fromm. With him
on board we can get close enough to Hitler to do the deed. We're also
about to approach Rommel. If we can get him on board - and I believe we
can - it will be a huge boost and give us a lot of credibilty. He's the
most popular man in Germany, after all."
"Rommel? Even him?"
"Are you surprised? Can you honestly say the country would not be better
off if Hitler was gone."
"No," said Helmut grimly, "I can't."
"We have to sue for peace now while we're still in a position to make
demands."
"What sort of demands?"
"The Anschluss with Austria, the march into the Sudetenland, our taking
of Czechoslovakia -all these things the other powers allowed to do. If
they were prepared to allow us to keep those territories prior to our
invasion of Poland, we should be allowed to keep them as the price of
peace. Hitler went too far, but he wasn't wrong about Lebensraum, our
need for more space. Poland was our big mistake. Britain and France made
it their line in the sand. They made it clear crossing that line would
mean war, but Hitler didn't believe them."
"Do you think our foes will agree to these demands?"
"I don't know, but I *do* know they won't if we try to make them as a
defeated nation. So what about it, Helmut? Are you with us? With your
connections having you join us would mean a lot."
Helmut sighed, and stared down at his hands.
"You're right in what you say about the Fuehrer; for the good of Germamy
he needs to go. I won't report what you've told me tonight, but I can't
in good conscience join you. He has been good to Gerda and me, been a
guest in my home, and we have broken bread together, so to do so would be
dishonourable."
Now it was von Stauffenberg's turn to sigh.
"I understand," he said. "While I'd hoped I could convince you otherwise,
I always knew that might be the case. It's why I came here under cover of
darkness and told no one where I was going. If you didn't join us I
wanted no one to know we had even met. It's much safer for you and your
loved ones that way."
"I appreciate that. Thank you, my friend."
The two stood up then and shook hands.
"You'll know in a few weeks whether or not we've been successful," said
von Stauffenberg. "If we're not, this is the last time you and I will
ever meet."
"Good luck, Claus. I hope you succeed."
"If we don't, I fear this country is doomed."
With that Helmut led him out to his car, while I made me way back along
the secret passage. What I'd just heard was dynamite. I would have to get
the news to Benton as soon as possible, but first there was something
else I needed to know.
I was back in bed when Helmut returned. As he climbed in next to me I
turned over to face him.
"Who was it?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Claus von Stauffenberg," he replied. "It was a flying visit so he didn't
stay."
"How strange! Why did Claus decide to visit us at such an ungodly hour?"
"I'll tell you if you really want to know," he replied, reaching across
and stroking my cheek, "but it's knowledge that could put your life at
risk."
Since I knew what Claus had said it was already knowledge a torturer
could get me to give up, and I needed to know whether or not Helmut would
tell me.
"I still want to know," I said.
So he told me. And he told me everything.
- 40 -
Powdered, painted, perfumed, corseted, and bejewelled, I progressed down
the length of the Great Hall in my wedding dress, feeling slightly
unsteady on my higher than usual heels. Helga and another servant girl
were carrying my train and I was on Gerda's arm, a bridal bouquet
clutched in my free hand. Gerda was dressed in slacks and a silk blouse
and acting as father of the bride in this full dress rehearsal she had
insisted I needed now the alterations to the dress were finished. The
biggest surprise had been the small case she presented me with after she
had helped me dress. I'd actually gasped out loud when she opened it.
Inside was her mother's wedding jewellery, which I was now wearing. I
couldn't say I was exactly feeling like a million dollars, but the
diamonds around my throat and dangling from my ears had to be worth not
much less than that.
When we reached the far end of the Great Hall we stopped. Gerda turned to
face me, carefully lifted my veil, and smiled down at me.
"Breathtaking!" she said. "You look absolutely breathtaking! Now we have
to go back up the hall and down again for as many times as it takes.
Practice makes perfect, and we didn't take all that time and trouble
getting you ready to only do this once, after all."
I glanced at the servant girls, thinking they might resent this, but they
were both smiling and looking at me with an odd mixture of envy and
adoration. Far from being resentful they were loving every minute of this
change from their usual duties. I sighed. It was the dress, of course.
Every girl dreams of dresses like this and of one day walking down the
aisle in one herself. The irony of the situation was that as a man I was
the only person in the room who had never had that dream, yet I was the
one wearing the dress. Helmut was under strict instructions not to leave
his study until Gerda told him he could. He had seen the dress, but he
wasn't supposed to see me in it before our wedding day, of course.
"Okay, let's go again," said Gerda, lowering my veil. "We need to keep at
this until you can glide down the hall so gracefully it looks as if
you're floating on air."
She offered me her arm, I took it, and off we went.
Later that morning, now clad in a much plainer dress and wearing somewhat
more sensible heels, I headed out. As I was leaving I bumped into Gerda.
It was a Wednesday, but she had taken the whole day off from her surgery
to go over details of the wedding with me.
"Ah, the poetry collection, again," she said, noting the distinctive red
cover of the book I was carrying. "You must know them all off by heart by
now."
"I like to contemplate them," I said, "to find new meaning where I can."
"Well, come and see me when you get back from the cafe. I've been
thinking about the dress rehearsal and I want to try a couple of
different make-up looks on you."
"Sounds like fun," I said. "I'll see you later."
I made my way down to the village and through it to the square. It was
the day after Claus von Stauffenberg's visit and I needed to tell Benton
what had been said. In the cafe I took my accustomed table in the window
and the sight of my red book soon brought Benton in.
"Well?" he whispered, as he sat down behind me. "What is it, Ripley?"
I told him all about last night's visit, and the plot against Hitler,
finishing with the names of the plotters.
"I jotted them down as soon as I got out of the secret passage so that I
wouldn't forget any," I finished, "and that list is now under the stone
at our dead drop."
"Sodding hell!" said Benton. "And you say they hope to get Rommel on
side, too?"
"Von Stauffenberg was pretty confident they could. What do you make of
the demands they intend presenting us with as the price of peace if they
succeed in killing Hitler?"
"If the plotters believe there's a snowball's chance in hell we'd accede
to any of those demands they're delusional," said Benton. "We accepted
Germany's territorial expansion before hoping to prevent war - and it's
to our eternal shame that we sold out Czechoslovakia as we did - but the
only offer on the table now is unconditional surrender. They can either
accept that offer today or they can accept it when their armies have been
defeated and their cities lie in ruins. The choice is theirs."
"That's what I thought you'd say our position was, but I still hope they
succeed."
"So do I. If they do kill the bastard it will save me the task of doing
so."
He paused for a moment, thinking. What he said next was totally
unexpected.
"Since I'm going to the dead drop anyway I'll be leaving something for
you, Ripley, something I should have given you earlier but which you
weren't ready for then. It's a cyanide capsule. Use it if you're ever
caught and facing torture. I gave Captain Wendt his months ago. God
willing it won't happen, but there may come a time when you have to use
it so keep it close at hand. My own is lodged in a hollowed out tooth,
but neither you nor Wendt have had that work done. I'll leave now so I
can retrieve your list deposit it at the dead drop. You follow ten
minutes from now and pick up the capsule."
When I returned to the castle sometime later I did so with the cyanide
capsule in my handbag, and my thoughts swirling. In the early days of my
deception I'd worried constantly about being exposed and what might
follow, but as the months rolled by and that didn't happen I'd gradually
relaxed and even grown comfortable in the life I was leading as Helmut's
lover and bride-to-be. Now all those old fears had returned with a
vengeance. I had allowed myself to grow complacent. Taking possession of
the cyanide capsule had shattered that complacency. This had all suddenly
become a whole lot more real.
On entering the castle's main lobby I saw the door to Helmut's study was
open, which was unusual. He himself was standing behind his imposing
desk, staring through the window and out over the village below with his
hands clasped behind his back, just as he had been when I'd first laid on
him all those months ago. Helmut had a habit of brooding, but I'd come to
know him well enough to be able to see from that the set of those broad
shoulders that something was troubling him.
"Helmut?" I said. "Is something wrong?"
He turned to face me, a deep sadness in his eyes.
"We naively thought we could establish rules for warfare," he said, "and
minimise civilian casualties. That was one of the purposes of
establishing the Geneva Conventions, after all. Yet both we and our
enemies launch indescriminate attacks on each other's cities, killing
thousands. I used to think we were all better than that, but it turns out
we're not. Few of us have clean hands now, and certainly not me"
"What is it?" I said frowning. "What's happened?"
"I just received a phone call informing me that we launched our first V-
1's against London shortly before dawn this morning and that we have
thousands more ready to go when the order is given. The V-1 assault on
Britain has begun."
**********************
To be continued
**********************
Notes:
1. The demands mentioned by von Stauffenberg in this story are artistic
licence not historical fact (unless I'm subconsciously basing them on
something I half-remember once reading), an extrapolation on my part.
2. While I appreciate compliments on my 'work ethic', this might actually
be some of easiest writing I've ever done. I've found a pace that suits
me and as a result this hasn't really involved very much effort at all
and has been a total pleasure so far. In fact I'm using writing these
episodes as relaxation breaks from a large, research-heavy hobby project
I'm currently working on at the same time.
Miracle
- 25.05.2020
- 12
- 0
