Anthea s baby 1
- 2 years ago
- 377
- 0
The Crossing - Part 35 Of 37 free porn video
I was an escaped British PoW living as a woman in Nazi Germany. Now,
with the end of the war in Europe only days away, I was part of a group
about to surrender to the Americans, but should I reveal my true
identity to them when we did?
THE CROSSING - part 35
by BobH
(c) 2016
- 79 -
"Is it just me or was there an undercurrent between Wernher and Walter
Dornberger last night?" I asked Helmut as we headed down to breakfast
the following morning. "I mean, on the surface they were the picture of
civility, but...."
"Oh, so you noticed that? Even back at Kummerdorf they were always
colleagues rather than friends, but something changed between them
later."
"Do you know what?"
"No, and when I asked Wernher he told me there were some things I was
better off not knowing. Whatever it was, they have no choice but to
present a united front for now. I assume you caught Dornberger's
reference to 'our baby'?"
I nodded.
"The scientists and engineers at Haus Ingeburg are drawn from both men's
groups, and they've both hidden away a large trove of papers covering
their research. If they're going to bargain with the Americans it has to
be for the whole thing, so each of them needs the other. And since that
bargain may include us, let's hope Magnus is successful today."
An hour or so later, after we'd eaten breakfast, we joined others
outside Haus Ingeburg in the morning sunshine to see Magnus von Braun
off. There was a white handkerchief tied to the handlebars of his
bicycle, presumably to act as a sort of white flag of truce. Wernher
affectionately ruffled his younger brother's hair with his good hand.
"You remember what you have to say to the Americans?"
"Of course," said Magnus, sounding exasperated. "I'm to tell them you're
up here, that we wish to make a deal with them concerning the V-2
rocket, and nothing else. You don't want me going into more detail than
is necessary to whet their appetites."
I'd offered to compose something for him to memorize but my offer had
been rebuffed. Unlike his older brothers, young Magnus had been an
ardent Nazi and had the arrogance typical of his kind. He did not like
the idea of a mere woman telling him what to do. I watched him start off
down the road with mixed feelings.
"Well, we're committed now," said Wernher, joining us. "He'll cycle down
through Adolf Hitler Pass, which I imagine will soon be reverting to its
old name of Oberjoch Pass. It lies barely a kilometre west of the
Austrian border and will take him past Schattwald and on to Reutte in
Austria where a unit of the US Army's 44th Infantry Division is
stationed. We'll surrender to them. When they learn who we are they're
going to want us."
"All one hundred and fifty of those here?" asked Helmut.
"Well, no. I mean yes Haus Ingeburg as a whole will have to surrender,
but I assume they're only going to want our top scientists and
engineers. A large proportion of that hundred and fifty are from Walter
Dornberger's military staff."
"So how many?"
"Maybe eight or nine, the cream of the cream. Walter and I have to sit
down together and agree on a list. You'll be on it, of course."
"Good, but I'm not going anywhere without Eva."
Von Braun nodded but didn't say anything. As important as he was I had
to wonder if Helmut was in any position to have his demand met.
Later, in the middle of the morning, we were finally joined in the
lounge by Hans and Gerda.
"About time you made it downstairs," said Helmut, grinning.
"It *was* our wedding night," said Gerda.
"As if you've ever need an excuse to spend time in bed together," I
said.
"Well, yes, there is that," she said, laughing.
Gerda lit a cigarette. When she placed her lighter on the table Helmut
picked it up.
"May I?" he asked.
"Go ahead," she replied, tilting her head back and blowing a stream of
smoke at the ceiling.
Helmut reached inside his jacket and pulled out the letter of passage
that had been so helpful to us during our Berlin adventure.
"This may have saved our lives," he said, setting it alight, "but with
Hitler dead having such a document would now be more of a hindrance than
a help."
He dropped it into the ashtray, where we watched it burn, blacken, and
crumble to ashes.
"Hitler is in several of our wedding pictures," I pointed out, "should
we destroy those photos, too?"
Family photos were one of the items we had grabbed when leaving Castle
Rumstahl.
"No point," said Helmut. "With their widespread publication in all the
German newspapers we can hardly deny he was there."
Hans and Gerda ordered coffee and pastries, and we joined in with the
coffee. After months deprived of it we couldn't get enough of the stuff.
Thus did the morning pass. Early that afternoon, as the skies began to
darken, Magnus von Braun returned. We had expected him to be accompanied
by Americans, but he was alone.
"What happened?" asked Wernher.
A small group of us gathered around Magnus von Braun at a table in a
corner of the lounge, eager for his report. Outside it had started to
snow.
"Half way down the mountain I encountered an American soldier,
Private Schneikert of their 44th Infantry Division, who stopped me."
"Hmm, a German name," commented Wernher, obviously seeing this as a
promising omen, "go on."
"I said 'My name is Magnus von Braun. My brother invented the
V-2. We want to surrender.' He escorted me the rest of the way down the
mountain and over the border into Reutte, where I was interrogated by an
officer in his division's Counter Intelligence Corps who spoke German. I
said you were up here and wished to surrender. The officer instructed me
to come back and tell you to surrender in person. He didn't seem to want
to send any of his men with me. He was probably worried this might be a
trap."
"Can't blame him for being cautious," said Walter Dornberger. "I'm sure
he's heard the same rumours we have of fanatical Werewolf units planning
a final attack."
"Makes sense," said Wernher. "Now we have to decide who to send down the
mountain to deal with the Americans."
"I thought we'd agreed on you, me, Magnus, Helmut, Herbert Axster, Hans
Lindenberg, Dieter Huzel, and Bernhard Tessman," said Dornberger,
frowning.
"We had, but I want Eva along, too."
"Eva? But she's not a rocket scientist!"
I was prepared for this.
"No, Herr General, I'm not," I said, "but I am the only person here
fully fluent in English. If you're going to negotiate with the Americans
you need me. Yes, you'll dountless be dealing with people who speak
German, but without someone on your team who speaks English you'll be at
a distinct disadvantage."
He rubbed his chin and regarded me thoughtfully.
"I can see the logic in what you're saying," he said. "Ok, you can come
with us, but whether you get to stay with us will be entirely up to
them, of course."
- 80 -
With late afternoon about to give way to early evening, those of us
chosen clambered into three grey BMWs. We all had our belongings with us
since we didn't expect the Americans to let us return to Haus Ingeburg
once we were in their custody. Everyone wore civilian clothes. Helmut
and I were the last into a vehicle because of the farewells we had to
make.
"I wish you were coming with us," I told Gerda as we hugged.
"So do I, but neither Hans nor I are rocket scientists so they won't
have any use for us."
"Let us hope it won't be too long until we see each other again, sister"
said Helmut, taking his turn to hug Gerda while Hans was giving me a big
hug, lifting me off my feet in the process.
"We can but hope," said Gerda, the uncertainty in her voice reflecting
our own.
They waved us farewell as our vehicles pulled away, heavy snow having
given way to driving rain, and were soon lost to our sight. Magnus had
been given a pass by the Americans so our journey was smooth with few
delays. By the time we reached the mansion in Reutte where the
intelligence officers we were to meet had set up shop it was already
twilight.
"They've got a dame with them, and she's pretty!" said one of the G.I.'s
on guard outside as Helmut helped me out of our BMW.
"Yeah, nice gams, too," said the other. I gave them a little smile.
"Thank you, boys," I said.
"Holy crap, you speak English!" said the first one, looking flustered.
"Sorry if we were being inappropriate, ma'am. We meant no offense."
"None taken, private."
While Helmut hadn't understood what they said he hadn't missed their
intent.
"Turning male heads again, I see," he said. "That's a power every pretty
girl has, whether she wants it or not."
The mansion was illuminated by candles, electricity not having been
restored yet. The officers inside were very happy to see us so they
clearly knew what a catch we were. My own presence caused some surprise,
however.
"Are you a scientist, fraulein?" I was asked in German by a man who
introduced himself as Second Lieutenant Walter Jessel.
"No," I replied in English, "I'm Countess Eva von Rumstahl, wife of
Count Helmut von Rumstahl. I accompanied my husband and the other
scientists in order to act as their interpreter."
"As you can see, I speak perfect German. An interpreter is not required.
"I might seem superfluous to you but I assure you I'm not. The
scientists believe that not having their own interpreter present during
negotiations with you would put them at a disadvantage. I hope you can
appreciate their concerns."
"Your English is impeccable. Is that a British accent I detect?"
"Yes. My family lived in England for several years before the war. It's
where I picked up the language."
This was the fake biography I'd come up with when I was Paula Grunwald.
I hoped he wouldn't decide to probe it further.
"Fair enough. I've been ordered to interview von Braun tonight and you
can sit in on that. Then we'll give you a meal, you'll all be assigned
rooms here, and we can continue tomorrow."
"Fair enough," I said.
So it was that shortly after this I found myself in a small office,
sitting to one side and listening as Wernher boasted of his
accomplishments.
"We know we've created a new means of warfare," he said. "The question
as to what nation, to what victorious nation we're willing to entrust
this brainchild of ours is a moral decision more than anything else. We
want to see the world spared another conflict such as Germany has just
been through, and we feel that only by surrendering such a weapon to
people who are guided by the Bible can such an assurance to the world be
best secured."
I almost snorted listening to Wernher spout this high blown nonsense,
particularly since it was only yesterday that Dornberger had told me:
"Wernher and I both realised in late 1944 that the situation was
hopeless. Consequently, I contacted the General Electric Corporation
through the German Embassy in Portugal, hoping to come to some
arrangement regarding our services after the war was over. With any luck
we'll be able to trade on that contact."
Walter Jessel was frowning at me and I realised he had seen me rolling
my eyes. I needed to be more careful and perhaps I would have been if I
wasn't so preoccupied. Before his departure, Mark Benton had advised me
to stick with Helmut so that with any luck I'd end up in British or
American custody. When that happened, as it now had, he told me I should
not immediately blurt out who I am but wait until I was alone with an
interrogator and out of earshot of the others. Since I had no way of
knowing how they'd react if they learned I was a spy this was obviously
the prudent way to go. Yesterday I'd been all set to reveal my true
identity to the Americans. Today I wasn't so sure this was a good idea.
I was a British spy after all, not American. Despite us being allies,
shouldn't it be my own people I reported to?
The meal they gave us later consisted of fresh eggs, coffee, and bread
with real butter. It was good, but not as good as the fare at Haus
Ingeburg had been. As for our room, it was clean and the bed had fresh
sheets, which was about as good as we could hope for in the current
circumstances. Lying in it, with Helmut sound asleep beside me, I stared
at the ceiling and bit my lip. I was still a serving officer in the RAF.
I knew I was duty bound to end our relationship soon and that I would
have to say goodbye to him for ever. That decision was out of my hands.
The only thing I had some control over was when this happened.
"Have a seat, Countess," said First Lieutenant Charles Stewart in his
makeshift office the following afternoon, indicating the chair in front
of his desk.
I did, and only after I was seated did he sit back down himself.
I smiled appreciatively at his good manners.
"Last night I sent HQ a report on everyone who surrendered to us. They
got back to me early this morning while you were all still asleep, so I
now know all about you and what you did."
"Oh?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
"Working with a British agent, you sent us vital intelligence on what
your husband and the other rocket scientists were doing. You saved a lot
of lives."
My husband. That meant he didn't know everything about me after all. I
nodded but said nothing. I wanted to see where he was going with this.
"It was the time you spent in England as a child that made you
sympathetic to the Allied cause, correct?"
"Yes. I didn't like the Nazis and what they represented."
"Then I have to ask why you joined the Nazi party last year. Why do so
at all if you felt as you say you did, and why so late?"
"You've heard of von Stauffenberg and the bomb plot against Hitler?"
"Of course."
"Claus was a close friend of my husband. After the failure of the plot
anyone with any links to him was coming under suspicion. A show of
loyalty seemed prudent at that point."
"Ah, I understand. And now you want to stay with your husband?"
"I do."
"Well, in view of your service that's the least we can do. We'll humour
your request to be an interpreter since it provides an excuse to keep
you together. Does your husband know you spied for the Allies?"
"No, and I'd like to keep it that way."
"Understood. While you're here there is something you can help us with,
however."
"Happy to," I said.
"I'd like your impressions of the scientists. I want to get as good a
handle on each of them as I can."
"Some of them I've only just met," I said, "but I'll do what I can."
"Wally Jessel tells me you rolled your eyes last night when he was
interviewing von Braun. Mind telling me why?"
"You saw him at that session with the press that you arranged this
morning. He posed for pictures, beamed, shook hands, and conducted
himself more like a visiting celebrity than a prisoner. I like Wernher.
He's charismatic, charming and witty, but he's also a shameless self-
promoter. Walter Dornberger has the subdued demeanour you'd expect of a
defeated enemy, but not Wernher. Incidentally, why didn't you include
Helmut and me among those meeting the press?"
"A courtesy," he said. "Having learned what you'd done for us I figured
you might prefer to avoid the limelight."
"You were right. Thank you."
"I'll call on you again I'm sure, but that'll be all for now."
He stood and offered me his hand. We shook, then he called for someone
to see me out. It was clear that London hadn't told the Americans about
me being an escaped British PoW, and male. Which meant they didn't want
them to know. OK, so I had to continue to be Eva for now, not revealing
who I was until I was in the hands of British interrogators, whenever
that might be. What worried me was how relieved I was by this delay.
- 81 -
Our stay in Reutte turned out to be a short one. Along with our
interrogators we were soon moved to Garmisch-Partenkirchen, the Bavarian
ski resort where Hitler had hosted the 1936 Winter Olympics. The food
there was plentiful, the air fresh and clean, and the US Army had
accumulated hundreds of other captured scientists at the resort by the
time we arrived.
On the 8th of May came news that Germany had surrendered. The war in
Europe was over at last! A week or so later I managed to acquire a
British newspaper filled with photos of happy crowds celebrating across
the country. I wished I could have been there with them.
The mood in the resort was almost joyous at first, but this didn't last.
For most of us the main problem as the weeks passed was boredom. The
sunshine was glorious but there's only so much sun-bathing even those
who enjoy it can do. I needed to stay covered up for obvious reasons, so
I wasn't one of them. When word got around I was fluent in English, I
found myself giving language lessons. I'd taught German to English-
speakers in Stalag Luft XII, and now I was teaching English to German-
speakers at Garmisch. There was a pleasing symmetry to this. The rush to
learn English was because those at the resort believed they would all
soon be on their way to the United States, of course. When this didn't
happen it began to cause problems. As Helmut explained to me:
"At first Dornberger told the other scientists to cooperate fully with
our interrogaters. I'm sure he was expecting this would expedite their
transfer to America, but as the weeks have dragged on he and Wernher
have started stonewalling and giving up the bare minimum they need to."
"Do you know why?"
"No, but it's clear there's something they don't want the US Army
investigators to find out."
With all that time on our hands I thought Helmut would want to have lots
of sex. In fact he was far less demanding than I was expecting, worried
as he was about the future. Life at Garmisch might be mostly very
pleasant, but uncertainty about our fate was still taking its toll, as
was not having any news of Gerda and Hans. Then there were minor
indignities such as having so few changes of clothing. I was luckier
than some who only had the clothes they were standing in, but rotating
the two dresses I'd brought from the castle and my riding outfit
necessitated a lot of washing. Yes, I knew that half of Europe lay in
ruins and that hundreds of thousands of refugees were on the move across
the continent, but like most of us it was my own immediate circumstances
that commanded my attention.
After six weeks or so at the resort there was a change in our situation.
On the 19th of June, Major Robert B. Staver and Lt Colonel R.L. Williams
took Helmut, Wernher, the other leading scientists and myself by jeep
from Garmisch to Munich. From here we were flown to the airfield at
Nordhausen in a DC-3 'Dakota', hanging onto webbing the whole way.
Nordhausen was where the Mittlewerk was. With Wernher's help the
Americans wanted to round up every last rocket engineer living in the
area they could find ahead of the Soviets arriving. They were due to
take possession of the region in forty eight hours as part of their
previously agreed Zone of Occupation. Helmut and I were not part of this
operation, but we learned all about it from Wernher when he got back to
the place we'd all been billeted that evening.
"Major Staver has a stack of index cards containing the names of the V-2
engineers we identified during our interviews. He told every available
US soldier here to secure all the wheeled vehicles they could find then
sent them off across the Harz to locate the engineers. His pitch was
simple: either they and their families could come with us or the day
after tomorrow they'd be facing the Russians. Not surprisingly, pretty
much everyone said yes. That's over a thousand people. Tomorrow a train
will be transporting them and us forty miles southwest to the small town
of Witzenhausen, in the American Zone of Occupation."
The following day we were taken by jeep to the train station. When we
got there we found armed US guards holding back an angry crowd of
locals.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Word leaked out about the evacuation," said Major Staver. "We're only
taking the engineers and their families, but there are others who want
out, too. We don't have room for anyone else and the mood got ugly when
we turned them away. My men have orders to shoot anyone who tries to
board the train without permission, but I'm hoping it won't come to
that."
The train was a mixture of passenger cars and box cars with people
crammed into both. As part of the elite group of scientists we got a
reserved section in a passenger car, of
course. Helmut and I climbed aboard, helped by a soldier. When we took
our seats beside the others we turned to see Wernher, Major Staver, and
Walter Dornberger still outside, the latter pair arguing about
something.
"Now what?" said Helmut.
As we watched the major, looking exasperated, stormed off, got back into
his jeep, and was driven away. There was then a brief altercation
between Wernher and Dornberger, before they finally boarded the train.
Wernher came and sat next to us. Dornberger took a seat further down the
carriage.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
"Walter chose now to tell Major Staver he had buried five large boxes of
his papers in a field outside Bad Sachsa, boxes that contain critical
information on the V-2 that can't be allowed to fall into Soviet hands.
That's why the major sped off. Instead of coming with us he now has to
secure those papers."
"Why leave it so late to tell him about them?" asked Helmut.
"Walter was afraid I might double-cross him and leave him out of any
deal I make with the Americans," said Wernher. "The papers were
insurance against that."
A few minutes later we set off. Outside, beside the tracks, armed
soldiers held back the frightened and angry mob as we picked up steam.
If they were going to attempt to rush the train this was their final
chance. Fortunately for them, and for us, they didn't. I wasn't the only
one to breathe a sigh of relief as we left the station behind us. The
train puffed along relatively slowly, but even so our journey took us
little more than an hour.
At Witzenhausen, while everyone was being taken off the train and made
to assemble in lines in order to be processed, the elite rocket
scientists and I were led over to jeeps.
"We'll be bringing you back here," said Lt Colonel Williams, "but we're
taking you to Kransberg first."
"*More* travel?" I moaned.
Helmut squeezed my hand and gave me a sympathetic smile.
"I'm sure it'll soon be over, my love," he said.
I wasn't reassured and spent most of the trip staring moodily at the
passing countryside. The journey from Witzenhausen to Kransberg took the
better part of three hours. I was in the lead jeep along with Wernher,
Helmut, Lt Colonel Williams, and our driver. As Kransberg came into view
we saw that the village had a castle nearby situated atop a steep rock.
It that reminded me of Castle Rumstahl for some reason despite not
really resembling it.
"Our destination, Kransberg Castle," said Williams. "We've given it the
code-name 'Dustbin'. This is where the Third Reich's economic,
scientific and technological elite are being debriefed by American and
British intelligence officials, experts in those fields. There's no
bull-shitting these guys. You will tell them what they want to know."
I felt a mixture of elation and trepidation at the news there were
British officials here, knowing this was it. The time had finally come
to declare my true identity to my superiors.
We were marched into in the entrance lobby of the castle, itself
reminiscent of the one in Castle Rumstahl, and told to take one of the
seat set out there.
"You'll stay here until someone comes for each of you in turn," said Lt
Colonel Williams. "When they do, you'll be taken to a room where one or
more interrogators are waiting to interview you. We'll start with
General Dornberger. If you'll come with me, please."
He led Dornberger away. Over the following ten minutes or so people came
for everyone until it was just me sitting there by myself. I wasn't sure
what I should do. Would someone come for me too, or was I expected to
remain here until the scientists were returned? I got my answer when an
American WAC appeared. She bore a striking resemblance to Betty Grable.
"If you'll please follow me, Countess. The Brits would like a word with
you."
Showing no emotion, I got to my feet and followed her out. She led me
along a hallway, up several flights of stairs and, finally, up winding
stone steps that led to a room in one of the castle's few turrets. She
knocked on the door.
"Enter!" came a commanding voice from within.
"This is where I leave you," said 'Betty', heading back down the steps.
Firmly grasping the iron doorknob, I pushed the heavy wooden door opened
and entered the room. Inside, behind a small desk, stood a man in a
British uniform. He had his back to me, but he seemed strangely
familiar. Then he turned round.
"Hello, Ripley," he said.
It was Mark Benton.
***********************
To be continued.
***********************
Only two more instalments to go....
If you'd like to see a photo of the rocket scientists taken during their
meeting with the press at Reutte check out the wikipedia page for Magnus
von Braun.
Maris
- 23.05.2020
- 14
- 0
