Britain under the Nazis Jack Boot part 3
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It was during the wee hours, Claus and I slept on either side of the colonel, when a huge deafening explosion went off somewhere outside the hotel jolting the three of us awake. We were suddenly very alert. The flash lit up the room brighter than day, followed by subsequent blasts near and far. I was so frightened that I peed the bed.
The colonel scrambled from the bed snatching his gunbelt and bolted naked through the door shoving aside panic stricken soldiers entering from the parlour-converted command centre to rouse and advise their commander and chief officer. My hysterical needs at the time were to never lose sight of the man in charge who would somehow make things right and protect me. Claus was on my heels looking just as scared. I don't think for a moment that the thirty-odd men in the room even noticed or cared we were nude as many more modesty-unencumbered people filtered into the room.
The colonel barked orders at harried radio communications officers who appeared as scared as anyone else in the room. Although they were screaming out intel findings to each other, the seasoned officer calmly digested every single piece of logistics relayed and shouted to each what I could only assume were coded counter offences to the three battalions. The other two colonels clad in only their underwear stood by like whipped puppies, seemingly having had no time to confer with the late arrivals. The colonel assumed the leadership over the other two, he was in charge.
I stood at the large window overlooking the city. After a few moments, I even ventured outside onto the patio to watch the travesty unfold over the city once again. My eyes were focussed on the quadrant where my family resided. Where there hadn't been a glow of fires earlier, I could only fear the worst had happened. Tears poured from my eyes, then sobs, then followed by a complete breakdown. Not knowing he was behind me, Claus prevented me from collapsing by securing my underarms and dragging me back inside to the bedroom where he lifted me onto the bed and lay beside me holding me tight. We just lay there listening. No more bombs exploded near the hotel; however the mortar fire over the city continued to be unnerving until I relented and fell into to a deep sleep.
I thought it was a dream, or maybe just a continuation of the nightmare of events I'd endured when suddenly someone was shaking and slapping my face. At first, I saw a reincarnation of Jon staring down at me. His eyes, his smile. Then I realized it was Frank, how similar they looked. Claus came into focus leaning over to face me while my foggy brain began adjusting to the surroundings of where I was. I had no idea why I was so hallucinogenic.
Their expressions turned from happy to serious, my clothes were being pulled onto me as if I were a baby. And then, there was the sensation of Frank carrying me. I detected a sense of urgency. My dry mouth and the desire for water brought back a vague memory of a doctor telling me to drink. Had I had been given a sedative? I saw Claus toss my duffel bag over his shoulder. I immediately knew we were moving out, but where?
It was almost daybreak, I noticed. Birds were chirping when I was loaded into the back of a jeep with Claus supporting my body holding me tight. Frank was at the wheel grinding gears and soon had us mobile and speeding from the hotel parking lot. With a sharp right turn the city came into view from above the mountain. Fires burned everywhere; however, if gunfire was commencing or ongoing, its sound was drowned out over the drone of the jeep's engine, at least no bombing could be heard.
I tried to talk to Claus who either didn't hear me or was ignoring me. There was a very frightened look about him; his eyes darting every which way. He held me so tight it hurt, as if he were afraid I was going to bounce out of the jeep which was really not out of the realm of possibilities considering the lack of suspension supporting the old jeep.
We came up to a heavily manned checkpoint a mile or so before the city. Frank shoved papers in front of the guard. His arrogance was very unbecoming of his nature, but I'd learned that most Germans appeared rude at the best of times. The guard scrutinized the document and made a bored, lame attempt to salute Frank before ordering the barricade opened for us to pass down the winding highway as the visibility deteriorated and the stench of smoke became more prevalent. My eyes burned and I choked. Claus held an oily rag to my face as he did to his own. Frank had pulled his uniform shirt above his nose.
I was relentless in asking where we were going and scared shitless at the guns pointed at us from everywhere. The four Nazi flags attached to each corner of the jeep did give us some comfort that we wouldn't be shot at immediately.
Close gunfire still rang out and I shuddered at every shot. Claus buried my head in his crotch and cowered over me. We were in dangerous territory. Frank sped only to be stopped at another checkpoint for another interrogation and then we sped on to the next city block. Frank must have shown at least twenty soldiers the mysterious documents in his possession justifying the transportation of two civilians. The Germans had certainly seized the city in very short order.
We had came to another stop, however there was no conversation. Still afraid, I trusted Claus when he lifted my head from his crotch. The moment was surreal. I rubbed my sore eyes and then rubbed them again. I must have been hallucinating. Everything was very familiar. The butcher shop, the bakery, the shoemaker store, ice cream parlour, Danski's Tailors, Jaffi's book store ... I was home again! This was the street I grew up on and I knew every inch even if I was blind folded.
I swivelled my head so hard to the right that I felt a sharp pain in my neck. Eyes wide, there stood my brownstone home. Mom had kept her flower garden as beautiful as ever, dad must have slaved to cut the lawn on his own without having me to argue with to get it done.
The symbolic friendship wreath my mother made to welcome guests hung on the door. I was positive that the welcome-mat, also lovingly weaved by her, would lie sprawled at the front door stoop. We didn't hide a key under it; there was no need back then. I would walk through the door, kick off my shoes in every which direction and shed my school bag off my shoulders wherever it happened to land and scream out that I was home. I would always ask my favourite question 'what's for supper' as I peeled off my school uniform before I even reached my bedroom leaving a trail of discarded clothing along the way. I was forever getting shit from my mother. Suddenly, I could smell the cookies and cakes she baked for me despite the acrid scent of burning rubber and wood.
My escorts who both brought me home stared at me in happiness, yet I read a conflicting hint of sadness in their eyes. There was no time to waste, Claus jumped out of the jeep and hauled my duffle-bag onto his shoulder and dragged me by the hand in a trot to my doorstep. He hugged me and wept. I felt his tears streaming down my neck. Mine own were soaking his hair.
Honestly? I wasn't sure where I wanted to be anymore. I was in a total dilemma. I was torn between two families. It was either I run back to the jeep or I open my door to go back to a life I grew out of and doubted I could ever fit into again.
The decision, my decision, was made when the jeep exploded in a fiery ball. Claus and I both stood in shock and horror as we helplessly watched Frank perish in the flames. Together we made a slight advancement towards the burning jeep and then realized it was futile, Claus stopped us in our tracks.
Emotions overwhelmed me and I broke free of Claus and ran to the street looking from building to building. I was screaming and cursing at the phantom sniper that he'd made a huge, terrible mistake. Not caring if I was blown away, I cried and ranted at the top of my lungs that Frank was a good boy until I fell to my knees, my fists slamming the ground in utter devastation. I was still muttering he was a good boy when someone strong picked me up under his arm and ran.
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IncestThelma was 22 and like all of the young women at that time was still living at home with me and our parents in rural Kent; even though she had a good job in local Department Store. I was 15 and had just left school. The summer of 1965 was particularly fine so it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit around our secluded garden reading a Detective novel when my parents were at work. The difference today was that Thelma was on the first day of her annual holidays and had joined me wearing a very...
Ethel hung by her wrists while Harry and Rob left to get some rest. She nodded off from time to time but the fog of her mind cleared she realized that other than when they punched her she actually enjoyed the way they that fucked her so hard and so brutally. She enjoyed the helpless feeling as they ravaged her body. She believed that she could talk to the two men and they would release her without too much more abuse. She was wrong.As Harry and Rob drove back out to the warehouse they talked...
Ethel hated her name. She was born during the tenure of I Love Lucy. The beloved Ethel Mertz from the television show was the bane of the real life Ethel's existence. There were the jokes about her having to marry Fred. There was only one Fred in her high school class. He wasn't her type; not even if he was the last man on earth. Ethel was every bit the epitome of her name. At five feet even her looks, dress and vocabulary mimicked the character she despised. Although she fought to break the...
Ethel's Pa was telling a story. "A man comes into the garage wanting a new horn for his Dodge. The old bulb was torn. Well, we have horns; but they don't fit his brackets..." "What did he want with a horn?" Ma asked. "Dodge cars don't need them. They have 'Dodge, Brothers' written clearly on the front." "Oh, Nellie," Pa said, but -- at least -- he dropped the story. Ethel couldn't decide which was worse, Ma's jokes or Pa's stories. Pa was fascinated by anything mechanical,...
Damn Katherine and her classy fashion sense... Once again my Mother-in-law had a new skirt suit which would work for brunch, mother-of-the-bride or some other fancy occasion, it was simply lovely. Tonight was one of those other occasions. The suit was perfect for the work awards dinner that my wife Veronica has dragged me too. Katherine, on the other hand, who was looking just so, was all too happy to attend. Katherine's suit is simply irresistible to me. The color, the style,...
Let me say right up front that Gunther was definitely not a young man.I knew he had been around the Santa operation at the North Pole long before I arrived with my bright ideas for cost reduction. I was called in to promote increased toy production by the easily distracted Elves. Those little imps preferred being silly rather than busy little workers focused on their quotas like dedicated employees. As a small-sized human male, I was able to relate easily to the female Elves because they liked...
Fantasy & Sci-Fifrom my supernatural~romantic novel set in Regency England from the diary of Betsy Corning, Darlington, England, September 1815 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am undone! I have given into temptation and trod the left-hand path. I did not tarry there long, I yet have a semblance of a conscience. But little good will it do me – I will be punished for it sooner or later. But oh, should any ladies read this, perhaps you, at least, will understand what provocation I had endured and grant me some...
When we entered the dining salon, all conversation stopped. I had changed from my travel clothes earlier, but was still in black. Esther was in a peach colored evening gown. As I said before, she was ravishing. Martha and Hatty walked behind us in their evening gowns. It was plain that everyone wondered who this girl was with the Royal Executioner and the Guild Master for companions. Certainly most of the apprentices and the other Guild members had not met, or been introduced to Esther. None...
“Are the statements, that the Lord Executioner made, true?” the Village Chief demanded sternly. “Yes, Un ... Uncle,” the young man finally answered very quietly. “A week in the stocks,” the Village Chief pronounced, “and the same for those two friends of yours.” The Village Chief then turned to me to apologize. “I am sorry I doubted you, Lord Executioner. It would appear that I need to pay closer attention to what is going on with the workers in the fields.” “An excellent idea,” I replied,...