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The Crossing - Part 23 free porn video
I was an escaped PoW who had taken on the identity of a dead woman. Now
I was about to become a bride, and today was my wedding day. What no
one but me knew was that an assassin lay in wait to kill the guest of
honour...Adolf Hitler.
THE CROSSING - part 23
by BobH
(c) 2016
- 53 -
It was the evening before the wedding. Most of Helmut's relations would
be arriving tomorrow, but his best man Wernher von Braun had arranged
to stay the night with us at the castle. I was looking at him across
the dinner table now and thinking about that title.
Best man.
When Helmut had asked Wernher to be his best man I hadn't realised this
wasn't a German tradition, any more than a diamond engagement ring was.
Even given regional variations, both were very unusual for this
country. So why were these and other wedding traditions we'd be
observing so, well, English? Ah, that was down to Helmut's grandmother,
the formidible Amelia Winstanley. A great beauty in her day, she met
Helmut's grandfather Max von Rumstahl when both were students at
Oxford. They fell in love, but she only agreed to marry him on
condition that their wedding would be conducted according to English
tradition. When their son, Helmut's father, had married he followed the
same traditions at his wedding in order to honour his mother. Which is
how English tradition in these matters became von Rumstahl family
tradition. That was aristocrats for you. There were still certain
German requirements that would have to be followed, of course. Our
actual joining could only legally take place in a Standesamt, the local
equivalent to a registry office, since a church ceremony by itself had
no legal standing. We would be taking care of that bit of business in
the morning. The other thing concerned the rings. For both men and the
women these were plain gold bands, worn on the right hand.
Wernher's presence meant there were more of us at dinner than was
usual. The subject of the assassination attempt on Hitler had just come
up in conversation. Markus Wagner was telling us about the most recent
developments.
"The first trials of the conspirators behind the attempted murder of
the F?hrer were held on August 7th. Judge Roland Freisler presided and
found them guilty of course. They were all hanged the next day."
"I hope every one of the traitorous scum have been rounded up now,"
said Grost.
"Investigations are continuing," said Wagner. "More arrests are
expected."
We all had wine with the meal except for Wagner, who had a glass of
water. I wasn't surprised. Watching the precise way he cut up his food
and chewed each equally-sized mouthful the same number of times before
swallowing, I got the impression that for him eating was nothing more
than a refuelling process and certainly not an activity you were meant
to derive enjoyment from. I found Wagner disturbing, but not in the way
I was disturbed by Bruno Gruber. Where Gruber was a sadist ruled by his
passions, Wagner seemed entirely devoid of them. There was something
cold and robotic about the man. I suspected that when it came down to
it Wagner was actually the scarier of the two. Gruber would torture you
and enjoy it. It was a task he would volunteer for. Wagner, I'm
certain, would not. But if ordered to he would torture you very
efficiently, and feel nothing while doing so.
"How is the war in the west going?" Gerda asked him.
"Not well, unfortunately. British and South African troops drove us out
of Florence, though General Kesselring managed to destroy a number of
important bridges during his retreat, which will slow the Allied
advance. In France, Rennes recently fell to the Americans, and Allied
forces tried to trap us in a pincer movement near Falaise. Fortunately,
they failed to close the pocket and our troops were able to escape
eastwards."
"And Paris?" said Gerda, pressing him further. "What of Paris?"
She was worried about her lover Hans who, so far as we were aware, was
still stationed in that city.
"Realistically, it can only be a matter of days now before it falls to
the Allies," said Wagner.
"The news is no better in the east," said Helmut gloomily. "The Soviets
pushed us out of Russia and now they're driving us back through Poland.
At this rate they'll soon be at our borders."
"The latest intelligence I have had the Red Army only hours away from
the East Prussian border," said Wagner. "If they're not already massing
on that border they soon will be."
"Gott im Himmel!" said Grost. "B..but the F?hrer! His military
headquarters are in East Prussia at Rastenburg."
"Then he will have to relocate," said Wagner. "I imagine he'll return
to Berlin in due course."
"Hell of a time to have a wedding," murmured Lexi, who was sitting next
to me.
"On the contrary, fraulein," said Wagner. "It's important that normal
life goes on and is seen to go on. Minister Goebbels understands this,
which is why when the F?hrer arrives tomorrow he will be accompanied by
a photographer and film crews from the Ministry of Propaganda."
Great. So our wedding was going to be used for a photo opportunity.
"You're taking this all surprisingly calmly, Herr Sturmbannf?hrer,"
said Wernher, looking at Wagner curiously. "Aren't you worried that the
Reich is in danger of falling."
"No, because the F?hrer has assured us there will be a decisive
counterstrike, one that will involve the use of advanced weaponry such
as that I've been given to understand you are working on, Herr von
Braun."
"My...establishment was bombed again by the Americans two weeks ago,"
said Wernher, careful not to name Peenem?nde given how sensitive some
at the table were to security. "This is not helping us to deliver that
weaponry on schedule."
When he arrived at Castle Rumstahl on the morning train, we'd taken
Wernher straight to Helmut and Gerda's office where he told us all
about it. The raid took place on the 4th of August. Apparently ten
Peenem?nde staff were killed, including anti-aircraft soldiers, and the
big hangar, the office, and laboratory wings were all damaged. Wernher
was now using this as an excuse, but as with earlier raids on
Peenem?nde the damage done hardly seemed worth the effort expended. I
wish it had been.
"I understand you were arrested earlier in the year on suspicion of
Communist sympathies and of dragging your feet," asked Wagner.
"The charges against me were absurd," said Wernher, bristling at the
memory. "My arrest was just part of a ploy on the part of your boss to
make me look bad to the F?hrer and allow him to get his own man placed
in charge of the programmes I'm working on. I'm an engineer. I have no
interest in politics. So I didn't appreciate being made a part of
someone else's power games."
And Himmler's ploy had worked. He was able to convince Hitler to put
the V-2 project directly under SS control, and on August the 8th his
man Hans Kammler had replaced Walter Dornberger as its director. Werner
had told us about Dornberger's ousting, too. Needless to say he was not
happy with this turn of events. Given that Kammler's appointment had
come only four days after the most recent bombing raid on Peenem?nde, I
had to wonder if this had influenced Hitler's decision.
"I'm sure SS Reichsf?hrer Himmler acted only in the best interests of
Germany," said Wagner.
Wernher snorted, but said no more on the matter. I pushed my chair back
and stood up.
"If you'll all excuse me, I want to retire for the night now. I've a
big day ahead of me tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep."
The men all stood, even Gruber who was not always the best-mannered of
men. They would not resume their seats until I'd departed.
"Sleep tight, my love," said Helmut, "and I'll see you tomorrow."
As I made my way up to my room I silently thanked Helmut's grandmother
for introducing the von Rumstahls to English customs. If she hadn't
Helmut and I would not have been spending the night apart, and I wasn't
the only one who needed a good night's sleep. I smiled as I thought of
the SS men Wagner had patrolling outside the castle, unaware that an
assassin was already within its walls. Quite literally within its
walls.
"It'll be a relief to sleep on your floor and have room to spread out,"
said Mark Benton when he emerged from the secret passage in response to
the coded knock I'd rapped out on its door. "I could handle the
hardness of the floor, but that passage is unpleasantly narrow."
"You can use my karzi instead of a chamberpot, too," I said.
"Luxury!" he responded, grinning.
I'd concealed bottles of water in the passage in the days before Benton
had taken up residence there, and he'd brought some fruit, cheese, and
chocolate along with him, but even with the blankets I'd furnished and
the loan of a chamberpot it was hardly a comfortable place to hole up.
He was by now unshaven, of course, and looked pretty crumpled. He also
looked determined, with a resolute set to his stubbled jaw.
"Is everything ready?" I asked him.
"It is. I've assembled and disassembled the rifle several times now and
made sure everything is in working order. If all goes well, by this
time tomorrow I will have rid the world of Adolf Hitler."
"Given the recent attempt on his life, I'm a bit surprised Hitler
didn't cancel on us and so deprive you of your target."
"I'm not. Whatever else he might be the man is not a physical coward.
That iron cross he wears wasn't something he awarded himself. It was
honestly earned in the Great War when he was still only a lowly
corporal. Right, time we were getting some shut-eye."
While Benton laid a blanket out on the bedroom floor to sleep on, I
went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Lexi had suggested she
could steal out of Grost's bed in the early hours and spend the rest of
the night with me in mine. I regretted having to turn her down, but I
couldn't have Benton spending this night of all nights in the cramped
conditions of the secret passage and risk aching muscles. The mission
had to come first.
"Tomorrow's a big day, Ripley," said Benton from the floor as I climbed
into bed. "For both of us. Because whether I succeed or not, it spells
the end of our mission here. I'll need to lie low for a few days until
the fuss dies down, then we can finally go home."
- 54 -
"You look beautiful!" sighed Lexi, to nods and agreement from the
others in the room. I looked at the image in my long mirror and I had
to agree. They all looked lovely in their pretty dresses, but as the
bride I was the star of the show, and the mirror made it impossible for
me to deny I was the loveliest of them all.
The dress Gerda had worked on so diligently looked magnificent. My arms
were encased in lace sleeves and the long, silk train was pooled around
my feet. Beneath the dress I wore stockings, a garter belt, French
knickers, a tight corset, and heels. I was also adorned with the
diamond jewellery that had been worn by Gerda's mother on her wedding
day. My own diamond engagement ring now hung from a thin silver chain
around my neck, it's place taken on my left ring finger for now by the
gold band that was my wedding ring. In the church ceremony Helmut would
take it from that finger and slip it over my right ring finger,
signifying we were now married. It was strange to think that
technically I was already legally Helmut's wife - or as legally as I
could be given I'm a man, anyway. However, the church ceremony was what
was important to Helmut and as far as he was concerned that would seal
the deal. I looked at my wedding band thoughtfully. It might only lie
twenty miles from here, but I had travelled farther from Stalag Luft
XII than I'd ever dreamed possible.
The day had begun with a quick breakfast followed by a trip in the
Duesenberg down to the village Standesamt where Helmut and I were
officially married by the Standesbeamter, or registrar, with Wernher
von Braun and Gerda as our witnesses. This formality dealt with, we
returned to the castle where Gerda took me directly to my room so that
she could get me ready for the church ceremony. She had begun by tying
me into a corset, then done my make-up and I don't think I've ever
looked more glamorous. It was full 'Hollywood' make-up. As Gerda
explained, the bride was always the centre of attention at a wedding
and all eyes would be on me, so she was going to make sure I looked
like a movie star. After that came the the stockings, the dangerously
high heels, and the wedding gown itself. Only when I'd been securely
fastened into that impressive creation were the others allowed in to
view me. It was strictly women only, with Helmut in particular
forbidden so that the first time he saw me in the dress would be as I
walked down the aisle to meet him at the altar. In that room and in
that dress with all those female eyes looking at me, I felt like I was
an object of worship in some temple of femininity. Gerda nodded
approvingly at her work, Lexi looked envious, Leni Riefenstahl hid
behind her camera, and tiny Hanna Reitsch was grinning delightedly. My
young attendants Alyce, Annamarie, and Agneta, gazed at me wide-eyed,
excited at being allowed to be a part of the whole thing. The daughters
of Helmut and Gerda's cousin Martin, I'd last seen them at the 1943
Autumn Ball here at the castle, and they had all grown since. Sadly,
there would be no ball this year. Coming so soon after the wedding, and
given the current rationing situation, there was no way we could mount
it. Even now it was only by raiding the stores of food that had been
put aside for the winter and because Helmut had hunted another wild
boar that we were able to put on a respectable wedding feast.
There was a knock on the door.
"It's time, ladies," came the voice of Markus Wagner.
"That's our cue," said Lexi to Hanna and Leni.
She opened the door and led the other two women out past Wagner and
Bruno Gruber. Wagner entered the room.
"You possess a handgun, a small Beretta," he said addressing me.
"On the bed, as agreed to," I replied, nodding in that direction. He
glanced over at it and gave his own nod.
"Very good. Then if you will now move out into the corridor, I shall
complete the locking procedure."
I gathered my train up and piled it over one arm. Gerda, the young
girls and I then exited the room. There was no sign of Lexi, Hanna, and
Leni, who had gone on ahead and would be making their own way down to
the church. While we waited in the corridor outside, Wagner checked
under the bed, in my closet, and in my bathroom. Satisfied no-one was
hiding in my quarters, he hung my key on the hook inside the door then
locked it, handing the master keyring to Gruber when he had done so.
"That's it, Herr Gruber," he said, "all upper rooms confirmed empty and
personally locked by me. The only duplicate keys are now in your
possession and patrolling these floors until the F?hrer's departure
your responsibility."
Gruber grunted a response, barely able to hide his disappointment at
being sidelined like this.
"Come, ladies," said Wagner, ushering us towards the staircase down to
the entrance hall, "your automobile awaits."
As it happened that wasn't all that awaited us. I gave an audible gasp
when I saw who was standing in the entrance hall in his military
uniform: Adolf Hitler. Those unblinking eyes followed us as we
descended the stairs.
"Mein F?hrer?" I said when we reached him, puzzled as to why he wasn't
at the church.
"Forgive me fraulein, but von Rumstahl family tradition in these
matters follows the English model, and in that model the bride walks
down the aisle on the arm of her father. You are an orphan, so I would
be honoured if you would let me walk you down the aisle."
"O..of course," I said, "the honour would be mine.
He offered me his arm and led me outside to the waiting, ribbon-
bedecked Duesenberg, its roof down. As we emerged I got my first look
at the newsreel film crew. They were already in position to capture our
every move as we got into the car and were driven off. There were two
of them manning the camera, which I recognised as the uniquitous
Arriflex Handkamera that was the standard working movie camera used by
German armed forces on all fronts to film the action. I was acutely
aware of the whirring of its clockwork motor as Hitler helped first me
and then Gerda and the girls into the car before climbing in himself. I
noticed that Helmut's chauffer Heinrich had been replaced by an SS man
for the occasion, and sighed appreciatively at the welcome feel of the
air across my skin when he put the car in gear and we moved off. I
glanced over at the film crew as we did so, impressed by how quickly
the duo were unscrewing the camera from its wooden-legged tripod,
doubtless so they could hurry down the hill with it and so be in
position outside the church for when we came out after the ceremony.
On the short drive down to the church, all I could think of was Benton.
By now, he'd have let himself out of his place of concealment, unlocked
the door to my room from the inside and, if the coast was clear, have
entered Gerda's room using the duplicate key he had made months ago,
locking the door behind him. While we were in the church, he would use
his glass cutter to cut a small hole in the window, assemble his sniper
rifle, get himself comfortable, and wait for Hitler to reemerge. While
doing so he would carefully adjust the scope on the rifle to take
account of range and windage, though there was little more than the
gentlest of breezes at the moment.
"You're very quiet, fraulein," said Hitler.
"I'm nervous. It's not every day a girl gets married."
"Helmut is a decent and honourable man. He will make a fine husband."
Of that I had no doubt, but he wasn't going to get much of a chance to
be one to me. A few days from now, when this was all over, I would be
leaving him and the village forever.
Hitler had brought more SS men with him, a lot more. Outside the church
they almost outnumbered the villagers they were holding back - the
wedding being a family affair only relatives and close friends were
allowed into the church itself. Many of them were armed with Schmeisser
MP 40 submachine guns, hanging on straps across their chests. Given the
recent attempt on his life by von Stauffenberg and the other
conspirators I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised by their heavy
presence, but I was. Most if not all would have travelled on the troop
cars of the armoured train that had brought Hitler from his East
Prussian HQ this morning. One of them rushed forward to get the door as
we came to a halt outside the church. Hitler got out first then offered
his hand to help each of the others climb down from the car in turn,
the skirts of their dresses hitched up. I was the last out and needless
to say I had the most skirt to hitch up of any of them. Once on the
ground we got in 'formation' with me next to Hitler, the three girls
holding the now fully extended train of my dress, and Gerda at the
rear. When I was happy with the formation I lowered my veil, Hitler
handed me my bridal bouquet, I took his arm, and we made our way into
the church to cheers from the excited onlookers.
Inside the church I looked at the smiling faces on either side of me as
we progressed down the aisle, seeing many that were familiar and many
more that weren't. Lexi was standing next to Grost and gave me a smile
and an encouraging wink as I passed where he merely grimaced. He did
not approve of me so the thought that we were now related by marriage
must stick in his craw. Good. When we passed Hanna and Leni both women
looked at Hitler rather than me but their expressions could not have
been more different. Where Hanna Reitsch grinned at him in open
adoration Leni, sitting next to her new husband, could only muster a
scowl. I would have to find out what that scowl meant later, but for
now I felt more than a little overwhelmed. Yet as nervous as I was, I
couldn't help but smile ruefully at the absurdity of the situation I
found myself in. I was a man, an escaped British PoW who had assumed
the identity of a dead woman, being walked down the aisle by Adolf
Hitler in order to be wed to another man. Life really doesn't get any
more surreal than this. Helmut awaited me at the altar, Wernher by his
side, both of them looking very formal in their dark suits with those
long tails. There was another film camera with its two man crew
positioned behind the altar and off to one side. They had followed my
journey down the aisle and now recorded the end of that journey as I
took my place beside Helmut. Gerda and Hitler standing off to one side,
the latter with his military cap under one arm.
Helmut and I stood facing each other as Father Gunter spoke the words
of the ceremony, hardly any of which I heard so overwhelmed was I by
the whole occasion. I do remember us saying "I do", Helmut lifting my
veil, and the ripple of applause when we kissed. That was the moment
the words of Mark Benton came back to me:
"It's not for real, remember. No civilized country will ever allow two
men to marry. The very idea is absurd. So while I'm sure the ceremony
will be impressive it won't have any legal standing. You won't actually
be married."
If that was the case then why did this all feel so breathtakingly,
terrifyingly real?
Before Helmut and I could walk up the aisle together and out to where
the Duesenberg waited to carry us back to the castle there were photos
to be taken by both Leni, who was taking private photos as a wedding
gift, and the photographer from the Ministry of Propaganda. You don't
realise how dazzling the flashes on modern cameras are until several
have gone off in your face. Leni would be taking more photos of us back
at the castle, but this was the only chance to take them of Hitler. His
visit was a necessarily brief one given the current situation. As the
leader of a nation at war he could not afford to be unavailable for
much more than the hour or so he was giving us. According to Wagner his
armoured train was fully equipped with everything Hitler needed to stay
in touch with the situation while travelling, and I had spotted an SS
man with a backpack radio among those outside the church, which who was
presumably there to swiftly connect him to the train if needs be.
"Look this way please, Countess!" ordered the photographer, as another
flash went off in my face.
Countess. Yes, that's who I was now, Countess Eva von Rumstahl. Being
called that was going to take some getting used to.
When the photos had been taken and we were again getting in formation
to head back up the aisle - no small task with a train this long in a
church this small - Hitler took Helmut to one side and handed him an
envelope.
"My wedding present to you both," he said. "You may find it useful in
the months to come."
Helmut thanked him and placed the envelope in the inside pocket of his
suit jacket. I was intensely curious as to its contents, but it was
going to be a while before there would be a chance for us to discover
what they were.
Finally getting to walk up the aisle, Hitler and the other guests
falling in behind us, and then emerging into the bright sunshine, I
felt my sense of apprehension rising, even as I made sure to keep a
happy smile on my face and to laugh at the cheers and applause of the
villagers that greeted our reappearance. I was trying not to tense up,
to appear as normal and as unsuspecting of what was about to occur as
possible, but I knew that this was it. All that we had gone through
since Benton had chosen me to partner him on our escape from Stalag
Luft XII had been leading up to this moment.
When it happened it happened fast. One second everything was normal and
the next someone was hurling himself at Hitler as a shot rang out. All
around us there was pandemonium with people diving for cover, but
Hitler's SS guard maintained their composure. Superbly trained
professionals they quickly surrounded their fallen leader, Schmeissers
in hand, masking him from the sniper and so making a second shot
impossible. Helmut pulled me to him protectively and held me tightly,
but not before I got a good look at the man who had thrown himself at
Hitler.
It was Albrecht Grost.
He had taken the bullet intended for his F?hrer and was now bleeding
profusely, but the wound did not look life-threatening. SS men helped
Hitler and Grost to their feet.
"A doctor!" barked Hitler, "This man needs a doctor!"
Gerda came forward and, at a nod from Hitler, they let her through to
attend to her cousin. Hitler then turned to face the castle, his eyes
blazing. The SS man I'd spotted earlier arrived with his backpack
radio. Placing it on the ground, he flipped back the canvas cover,
donned the headphones, picked up the microphone, and tuned the radio to
the requisite wavelength.
"Hello castle, come in castle. Report please, over," he said.
At first there was silence. He tried again, and this time we heard the
radio crackle as he received a response. He smiled, then turned to
Hitler.
"They've caught him, Mein F?hrer," he said, "they've caught the
sniper!"
*********************************
To be continued.
*********************************
Jeannie
- 28.01.2021
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