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The Crossing - Part 34 free porn video
I was an escaped PoW living as a woman in Nazi Germany. Now that the
Third Reich was dying and the war was almost over was it time for me to
end my masquerade?
THE CROSSING - part 34
by BobH
(c) 2016
- 76 -
Avoiding all roads we rode the horses as hard as we dared, keeping to
high ridges where the terrain permitted. That way even if we were seen
by any of the many armies abroad we were too far away from them to be
perceived as a threat, or to be worth investigating. Usefully, this also
provided the best vantage from which to keep track of those armies,
Helmut having brought a pair of military-grade Zeiss binoculars with
him. When we had to travel across lower ground we stuck to woods where
possible. We also took the opportunity to water the horses because while
there was adequate grazing for them higher up there wasn't usually
enough for them to drink.
Every night we made camp on high ground with each of us taking our turn
as lookout while the others slept. Quite apart from foreign troops,
there were plenty of desperate people about, any one of whom might
stumble across our camp and try to kill us for our supplies. We didn't
dare give away our position by lighting a fire of course, but
fortunately the cheese and the rabbit pie we'd brought with us could be
eaten cold. We washed these down with some of the finest vintage wines
from the cellar at Castle Rumstahl, Helmut having stashed a bottle in
the saddlebags carried by each of our four horses.
We had set out mid-morning on Friday the 27th of April. Just after noon
on Monday the 30th we finally reached our destination on the Austrian
border having managed to get here without incident. It was a road that
led up a mountain. After avoiding them for so long we had no choice but
to take this one.
"It leads from Hindelang and climbs up the mountain to the village of
Oberjoch, and to Haus Ingeburg," said Helmut. "They lie at an elevation
of almost twelve hundred metres, so we've got some climbing to do."
It was as windy and winding as you'd expect of a mountain road and we
took it slowly, not wanting to strain the horses. Around us spring had
most definitely sprung, and everywhere wildflowers were emerging from
the ground or pushing through the few remaining patches of snow. The
mountain seemed sparsely wooded with what trees there were looking to my
untrained eye to be primarily fir and pine. Whether that sparseness was
natural of the result of trees being cut down for the war effort I
couldn't say.
A couple of hours later, in the middle of the afternoon, we came to a
barrier, one of those long wooden poles with a metal counterweight at
one end. At first it appeared to be unmanned, then two men in SS
uniforms stepped out from their places of concealment behind trees on
either side of the road. Both were holding machine guns and had them
trained on us.
"It's alright, Arnim," the one closest said to his comrade, lowering his
weapon as he approached us, "I recognize them. It's Count and Countess
von Rumstahl and their party. Welcome, Herr Count, we've been expecting
you for a week."
"We encountered some delays on the way," explained Helmut.
"Understandable in the current situation. You'll find Oberjoch and Haus
Ingeburg a little further up the road."
While he was telling us this, Arnim had raised the barrier and was
waving us through. We thanked them and rode on.
"If we're expected it means Wernher and the other rocket scientists are
still here," I said, "which is a huge relief."
"I don't know what we'd have done if they hadn't been," said Gerda.
"We're relying on them to decide what we should all do next."
"We'd have thought of something," said Hans, displaying more confidence
than I felt.
On eventually reaching the alpine hotel that was Haus Ingeburg, we
dismounted, tied our horses' reins to a convenient wooden rail, and
entered the building. Inside, standing behind the reception desk, was
another SS man. He too immediately recognized us.
"Ah, Count and Countess von Rumstahl. Herr Doctor von Braun asked to be
notified the instant you arrived."
He dialled a number on the reception desk phone.
"Herr Doctor? Yes, they've just arrived. I will, thank you."
He replaced the phone on its cradle.
"He will be along to greet you shortly. In the meantime I'll have your
bags taken to your rooms and arrange for your horses to be properly
stabled."
He snapped his fingers and a young man in a porter's uniform appeared
from somewhere with a small trolley.
"Rooms fourteen and fifteen," said the receptionist, taking a couple of
keys down from the wall behind him and handing them to the porter. Our
two rucksacks and four sets of saddlebags were
then loaded onto the trolley and whisked away.
We only had to wait a couple of minutes before Wernher appeared,
bounding in and clearly delighted to see us.
"You made it!" he said, shaking everyone's hand. "You took so long I was
beginning to think something had happened to you."
"Never mind us," said Helmut, staring at the same thing we all were,
"what happened to you?"
Wernher's left arm was in plaster, bent at the elbow and held out
horizontally from his body by a brace between the cast and his waist.
"Just a minor car accident," he replied with a shrug, "but come! I have
something to show you."
He led us out on to the impressive sun terrace where scientists and
others were either relaxing on recliners or sitting at one of the tables
scattered about, playing cards. Most appeared to be civilians but there
were men there in SS uniforms, too
"Isn't it magnificent!" he said, gesturing expansively. "There's little
to do here during the day while we wait for the war to end except to
eat, drink, sunbathe, and admire the view of the Allgau Alps."
"How is it possible a place like this still exists?" I asked, marvelling
at what I was seeing.
"It's run by and for the SS and so far completely untouched by the war.
We have all the fine food and drink we could wish for. I consider myself
a civilian, but when he took over Himmler insisted I join the SS and
regularly promoted me by mail. So technically I'm a sturmbannf?hrer in
the SS. I may only have ever worn that damn uniform they gave me a
couple of times, but I'm still able to take full advantage of all that
Haus Ingeburg has to offer. Rank has its privileges."
"It's amazing," said Helmut, shaking his head.
"I know," said Wernher. "Here we are, living royally in a ski hotel on a
mountain plateau, the French below us to the west and the Americans to
the south, and no one even suspects we're up here."
I sniffed the air.
"Is that what I think it is?" I asked.
"Coffee," Gerda said, eyes wide, "I can smell real coffee!"
"Where are my manners," said Wernher. "Of course you're all going to be
hungry and thirsty after your journey. I'll have coffee and pastries
brought for you, but let's go inside and sit in the lounge. We don't
have many women here so you and Eva are attracting a lot of attention."
He was right. Most of those on the sun terrace were staring at us with
expression ranging from wistful to lustful.
"It will also give me a chance to introduce you to Walter."
"Walter?" said Hans, frowning.
"Walter Dornberger, the man who used to be in charge of our V-weapons
projects."
- 77 -
"I was utterly amazed when I received orders from the local army defence
commander for us to become soldiers and fight the Russians when they
arrived at Peenem?nde. Can you imagine what a disaster that would have
been? None of us would have survived the first day."
We were sitting in the lounge, drinking coffee while listening to
Wernher explain how he had worked his way from Peenem?nde in the far
north of the country to Haus Ingeburg in the far south.
"Then another set of orders came from General Kammler stating that all
engineers and scientists were to move to central Germany, close to the
Mittelwerk factory, though without suggesting how exactly we were
supposed to accomplish this feat. So there I was, with ten orders
sitting on my desk. Five promised death by firing squad if we moved, and
five said I'd be shot if we didn't. I was damned either way. I was very
suspicious of Hans Kammler's real intentions, but choosing his orders to
obey seemed to offer the best chance for our survival."
"Why were you suspicious of Kammler's intentions?" I asked. "What did
you think he was up to?"
"I feared he might want us at a location where he could use us and our
technology as hostages. I called a meeting with the other top officials
at Peenem?nde. Despite our misgivings they agreed that relocating to
Mittelwerk was our least worst option. This was in late-January. The
rumour was the Russians were approaching fast and the path of our escape
might soon close. So whatever we were going to do we needed to do
quickly."
"As well as people, we knew we had to also somehow smuggle all our
research papers, records and equipment out of Peenem?nde. We weren't
about to allow a decade's worth of work to be destroyed or fall into the
wrong hands, but moving everything and everyone presented a major
logistical problem. Nevertheless, we set to our task rapidly. We
invented a color-coding system to make it easier to identify the
contents of what we were moving. A convoy was organized, in which
thousands of workers, engineers, and other Peenem?nde support personnel
would be transported by train, truck, car, and any method available."
"Moving that many people would draw a lot of attention from local
authorities," said Helmut, "attention you didn't want when the local
army commander had ordered you to stay put. How did you manage to get
round that problem?"
"Of all things, we were saved by misprinted letterheads. As luck would
have it, a recent shipment of stationary from the SS, that identified us
as a branch of that organisation, was messed up by the printer. The
letterhead was supposed to read BZBV Heer. Instead, it read VABV, which
doesn't exist. Or at least it didn't. We quickly invented a top-secret
agency with the initials VABV, then painted them on boxes, vehicles,
armbands, and anything else that might be checked by SS inspectors or
others. All of the material and equipment was then packed into trucks
and cars. The convoy headed south and along the way SS agents stopped
our caravan frequently, but the VABV deception worked and we were
allowed to continue.
"When we finally arrived at our destination, I was surprised to find
Walter already there," said Wernher, looking over at Dornberger.
A bald, greying man around fifty years old with a small moustache,
Walter Dornberger wasn't at all what I'd expected. He was subdued and
quiet where Wernher was confident and ebullient, but he nevertheless had
the air of someone always carefully calculating how to turn matters to
his own advantage. I was aware of him staring at me while we were
listening to Wernher. I knew I made an attractive woman and I accepted
this would result in a lot of unwanted male attention, but even after
all this time it still made me uncomfortable. Dornberger cleared his
throat before speaking.
"In February, Hans Kammler ordered my staff and me to move our
headquarters from Schwedt-an-der-Oder to Bad Sachsa," he said, "which is
less than thirty kilometres from Nordhausen and so within easy reach of
Mittelwerk, where he needed us. This is where we were when Wernher
arrived from Peenem?nde."
"Thereafter Kammler had us both working closely with him," said Wernher,
picking up the story once more. "In my case this involved making
occasional trips to Berlin. It was after midnight on one such trip in
mid-March that my driver fell asleep at the wheel, we crashed down a
railway embankment, and I got this broken arm and a fractured shoulder."
"You were lucky your colleagues Hannes L?hrsen and Bernard Tessmann,
were also travelling to Berlin on the same road that night," said
Dornberger, "If they hadn't seen your crashed car things could have been
much worse. As it was, L?hrsen had to stay with you and your driver
while Tessmann went for help. Then you went and did something stupid."
"I wanted to be up and around," said Wernher, defensively. "I didn't
have time to lie around in a hospital bed."
"Right. You insisted they put your arm in a cast so you could leave the
hospital. As a result, you had to be hospitalized again a month later so
the bones could be re-broken and re-set properly."
"I have to agree with General Dornberger," said Helmut. "That was
foolish of you."
"It didn't seem so at the time," said Wernher, "but I can hardly argue
otherwise now. Anyway, in April, with Allied forces penetrating ever
deeper into Germany, Kammler ordered the engineering team to be moved by
train to the town of Oberammergau in the Bavarian Alps. Here we were
closely guarded by the SS. I've no doubt they were under orders to
execute us all if it looked like we were about to fall into enemy hands.
I pointed out to SS Major Kummer that having us in one location like
that made us an easy target for U.S. bombers, that a single bomb could
wipe us all out with the loss of more than a decade's worth of
expertise. Fortunately, I was able to talk him into ordering the
dispersal of the group among nearby villages to counter that
possibility. As soon as that happened I convinced a hundred and fifty to
slip away with me and to make our way to Haus Ingeborg."
"Only a hundred and fifty?" said Helmut, aghast, "But you had four and a
half thousand under you at Peenemunde."
"Four thousand three hundred and twenty five to be exact, but we
suffered attrition every step of the way. Three thousand of us moved to
the Mittelwork, only four hundred of whom were sent to Oberammergau by
Hans Kammler, including Walter amd myself."
Having filled us in on his adventures Wernher was eager to learn what we
had been up to, so we told him. We left out the the bit where Albrecht
Grost discovered my true nature and Hans and Lexi then revealed their
own, but other than that we gave him the full story.
"Mein Gott!" he said, looking at us with admiration. "To fly out of
Berlin under enemy fire like that! It deserves to be in a movie one
day."
"Perhaps it will be," I said, knowing it wouldn't.
My story was amazing, cinematic even, but it would never be filmed.
Someone who did what I had done couldn't be the hero of a film. It would
make too many viewers uncomfortable.
It was now early evening. Though sitting around drinking and sharing
stories in such comfortable surroundings was very agreeable we were
tired. Three nights spent under canvas while fearing discovery had taken
their toll. The four of us gave our apologies and retired to our rooms.
I was asleep within seconds of my head hitting the pillow.
- 78 -
When Helmut and I went in for breakfast the next morning there was no
sign of Hans and Gerda. We assumed they were in their room, either still
sleeping or having sex, but we were wrong.
Having finished eating, Helmut and I were savouring our coffees when
through the window we saw the pair ride up and tether their horses
outside. Hans was wearing his Wehrmacht uniform, I noted. A minute or
two later they joined us.
"Early morning ride?" I asked.
"Sort of," said Gerda, "and we need you both to join us."
"May we ask why?" said Helmut.
"It's a surprise," said Hans.
Intrigued, we threw back our coffees and followed them outside. Here we
saddled up our own horses and the four of us rode the short distance
into Oberjoch. I wasn't wearing the long skirt I usually wore with my
side-saddle but one of the two summer dresses I'd managed to tuck into
my saddlebags when we left Castle Rumstahl. Fortunately, even with my
knee hooked around the saddle's pommel, it wasn't too revealing.
Something else it wasn't was warm, which was unfortunate given that the
weather had taken a distinct turn for the worst. It might be the first
day in May but the morning was dull, the skies gray, and everything was
still wet from rain that had fallen during the night.
The village of Oberjoch was pretty small. Around the turn of the century
it had been a tiny hamlet consisting of little more than a couple of
dozen cottages and a small chapel, but with the advent of skiing tourism
it had grown somewhat since then.
We stopped before a compact, nondescript, single storey wooden building.
It was tucked away down a side street where tourists wouldn't see it.
From the sign outside this appeared to serve a number of municipal
functions. Inside was a middle-aged man sitting behind a plain desk, a
ledger open before him. He was obviously expecting us and rose to his
feet as we entered.
"Ah, Count and Countess von Rumstahl!" he said. "It's a pleasure to meet
you! My name is Bernard Frobe."
I looked at Gerda questioningly.
"Among other things, Herr Frobe is the village standesbeamter," she
explained, "and he's agreed to marry us. We want you and Helmut to be
our witnesses."
"Oh Gerda, of course!" I said, hugging her while Helmut clasped Hans's
shoulder and shook his hand. "I'm delighted for you both!"
"You and Helmut brought Hans back to me," she said, tearing up, "and
I'll never be able to thank you enough."
"I asked her to marry me that same night," said Hans, "and she said
'yes'."
"I didn't hesitate, not for a second."
Seeing the joy on Gerda's face, it was hard to believe this was the same
woman who had once said to me:
"You're not the only one attracted to strong, commanding, manly types. I
just like those strong, commanding, manly types to be women. However, I
do want the respectability of marriage. So I need to find a wealthy man
who won't make any demands of me in the bedroom and is happy for me to
satisfy my own needs in that area with other women."
Clearly things had changed since then and love had won out over
pragmatism. I was glad.
"If Hans and Gerda will stand before me," said Herr Frobe, "we can
begin."
They did as he asked and Helmut and I took up our own positions, he next
to Hans and me next to Gerda. Had this been a ceremony in England he'd
be the best man and me the chief bridesmaid, which is not a role I ever
imagined I would play. Yet if this had been a grand church ceremony like
my own wedding only with Gerda in the big white dress, I would happily
have stood alongside her in a chief bridesmaid's dress. I'd have
considered it an honour.
This was a civil process, the same one Helmut and I had gone through
before our church ceremony and the only way to legally marry in Germany.
A standesbeamter was the equivalent of an English registrar, and this
building of a registry office. When they came here earlier, Hans and
Gerda would have presented their identity papers and Herr Frobe had then
agreed to marry them. Doing so at such short notice was unusual, but
then the sitution the country now found itself in was hardly usual.
"Hans and Gerda have asked to start by making short declarations to each
other," said Herr Frobe, "and I have agreed to this. Hans, you may
begin."
They turned to face each other, Hans taking Gerda's hands in his.
"Gerda, we have known each other since we were children and for all that
time I have loved you. I have never been happier than when you agreed to
be my wife, and I promise to love and protect you all the days of our
lives."
"Hans," said Gerda, "you are the man I want for a husband, and the
prospect of us being together for the rest of our lives fills me with
joy. You complete me. I can't imagine my life without you in it."
They turned back to face Herr Frobe, while I appeared to have something
in my eye. I glanced across at Helmut. He appeared to have something in
his, too.
"Leutnant Strohmann and Doctor von Rumstahl," said Herr Frobe, "you have
filled out the necessary paperwork and I have issued a marriage license.
It only remains for you to sign your names in the ledger before me and
you are then legally man and wife. Congratulations."
This they did, then they kissed and Helmut and I cheered. I was so happy
for them it felt like my chest might burst.
The ride back to Haus Ingeborg was a slow one. When we got there Hans
and Gerda retired to their room and we didn't see them again that day.
But then we didn't expect to. We whiled away the hours that followed
talking to people, playing cards, eating, and drinking. It was all very
pleasant, the only blemish being the dreary weather that kept us from
the sun terrace.
That evening Helmut and I joined Wernher and Walter Dornberger in the
lounge to listen to Bruckner's symphony number seven on the radio. The
men all had brandy and cigars while I made do with brandy alone. As with
everything else at Haus Ingeburg it was top notch. Something was
puzzling me, though.
"How is the radio station even still broadcasting?" I said. "I'm amazed
it hasn't been overrun by Allied forces."
"Be thankful for small mercies," said Wernher.
Shortly after 10.25pm, the music was abruptly interrupted by a long
military drumroll. We all leaned forward in our chairs, knowing this
meant a major announcement was about to be made.
"Our Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler, fighting to the last breath against
Bolshevism, fell for Germany this afternoon in his operational
headquarters in the Reich Chancellery," said the announcer, his voice
grim. "In accordance with his last will and testament, Admiral Karl
D?nitz has been named the Fuhrer's successor as head of state, and is
now President of Germany and Supreme Commander of our armed forces."
The music resumed and for a moment we were all silent.
"Is it true, do you think?" I said, not quite able to believe the news.
"That he fell fighting to his last breath? No," said Helmut. "He would
have taken his own life rather than be captured, and he would have done
so well before capture was a possibility."
"Assuming he's really dead at all," said Dornberger. "If that was one of
his doubles in the bunker the real Hitler could be on board a U-boat on
its way to Argentina even as we speak."
"Whether he's really dead or not is less important that whether people
believe he is," said Wernher. "This changes things. D?nitz will arrange
a surrender as quickly as possible. Before that happens you and I need
to approach the Americans and make a deal, Walter."
"I agree. It's time. We have an obligation to put our baby into the
right hands."
"Just like that?" said Helmut. "Do you even know where the closest
American forces are, Wernher?"
"Naturally. We've been using a network of German and Austrian
intelligence sources to keep track of US Army movements in the area. A
unit of US soldiers has set up a base nearby on the Austrian side of the
border. We need to contact them. I think we should send a single person
along first."
My heart leapt at his words. While my situation had left me confused and
ambivalent about many things, one thing I knew for sure was that I had a
duty to reveal myself and to report any intelligence I had. This was my
chance.
"You need someone who speaks English to make contact with them," I said,
"which I do. Fluently. I'm the obvious choice for the task."
"Absolutely not!" said Helmut. "This is no job for a lone woman,
particularly one as pretty as you. Many of those G.I.'s won't have seen
a female in months. You might ask the first soldier you encounter to
take you to his superiors, but who's to say he will? No, it's far too
dangerous."
"I have to agree with Helmut," said Dornberger, "it's too risky for a
woman, my dear."
I couldn't believe it. I wanted to protest their misplaced gallantry,
but it had left me speechless.
"My brother Magnus has some English," said Wernher. "We should send him.
He'll need to look entirely non-threatening when he approaches so they
don't shoot him, of course. I suggest we send him on a bicycle."
"Yes, that makes sense," said Dornberger, rubbing his chin.
"Then it's settled," said Wernher. "Tomorrow we surrender to the
Americans."
**********************
To be continued.
**********************
Notes:
Though Hitler committed suicide on 30th April his death was announced to
the nation on 1st May, as depicted in this instalment. I don't know
whether or not the appointment of Donitz was mentioned in the same
broadcast as it is in my story.
Elle
- 15.12.2020
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