Willie's War Ch. 03

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The two of them groaned in unison, establishing a rapport of pleasure given and pleasure received which transcended everything else. Suddenly Willie's insides felt full, and his whole body blazed in reaction. When he felt his flesh compelled to stretch his head snapped up and he gasped. "Oh, Eduard, you're such a big... man."

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, it's alright. Don't stop. I want you to finish properly. Eduard collapsed between his thighs and the transvestite's long legs parted and wrapped around his muscular trunk, the calves becoming ever shapelier.

As Eduard began to move Willie expelled a tightly held sigh as his grip on reality slackened and they copulated in a man and woman fashion. Eduard bit his neck, pulled his breasts and possessed him, moving slowly at first and stroking inside against places that would have made any girl groan with joy. Willie became transported into a neverworld of pure sensation has he twisted sensuously beneath him, loving every movement of the powerful body against and inside his own, absorbing every thrust, feeling the room spiralling around until at last the man's body tensed.

Eduard froze for a moment, his muscles taut his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and then he moved once more, rapidly and ferociously this time, moaning out loud, his thighs convulsing several times to indicate that his orgasm was intense and probably very copious.

At last they lay together, their bodies damp and tangled, still joined as one, neither of them willing to break their fragile bond. Eventually Eduard whispered softly in Willie's ear. "I have to return to Grottkau in the morning. Something is brewing that may entail active service, and I don't know how soon I'll be able to visit again. Can I stay here for a while tonight?"

"It's only a single bed." Willie explained apologetically.

"You mean it's too big?" Eduard murmured huskily. And he smiled his beaming smile.

***

Hermann Strasser found Berlin sweltering beneath a hot summer sun. The cafes on the Kurfurstendamm were crowded, girls wore gaily flowers dresses and businessmen took off their ties, while the beaches along the Havel See and the Spree were packed with bathers.

Alfred Helmut Naujocks, Head of the Sicherheitsdienst (SD) stood behind his desk in his office on the Wilhelmstrasse wearing an immaculately tailored black uniform. Behind him the wall was hung with red, white and black banners and a giant portrait of Hitler. Hermann Strasser stood in the centre of the room.

"I was summoned before Heydrich yesterday directly after his meeting with Reichsfuhrer SS Himmler." Naujocks began. "It seems the Fuhrer wishes to be furnished with a palpable reason for crossing the Polish frontier in force, and we have to provide it."

Hermann was suitably shocked, but the shock quickly settled into dour satisfaction and he glowed. "An invasion? At last! I was beginning to think it would never happen."

"Well, it is to happen. We have been given the task of creating an incident -- an acte provocateur, as the French would say, that will enrage the German people and illicit sympathy from other nations. It must be a good enough reason to warrant an all out attack. The Fuehrer as always maintained that Poland should not exist as a country, and a small war should settle the matter to his satisfaction."

Naujocks moved from behind his desk. "In the past we have manufactured a number of incidents along the German-Polish border at the behest of the Party, all minor trifling affairs designed to stir up anti-Polish feelings. This time it must be something more substantial. Something that will provide a good headline. To restore our nation to its rightful status everyone must be convinced that freedom by force of arms is possible, and the German population must be more frightened of the Poles than of going to war with them."

He walked to a wall map, and with a red pencil he circled a place name at the tip of the finger-like salient of Silesia that jabbed like a dagger into the belly of Poland. Strasser blinked. "Gleiwitz! I know that place. It's in my Wehrkreise -- my military district. I was there recently. American cowboys would call it a one horse town, but I know people who live in the vicinity."

"Good. Then you will know that it's close to the Polish border. It is of no importance but for the fact it has a radio transmitter linked to the Deutchlandsender."

Naujocks turned slowly and tapped his knuckles thoughtfully with his pencil. "Now let us suppose that a party of Polish troops stormed the radio station one evening in an act of misplaced bravado, and let us suppose they broadcast a message insulting and threatening both the Fuehrer and the German people. We would have to consider that a serious provocation and deal out a stern reply."

For all his usual warlike bluster Hermann looked slightly shocked. "Yes... but invasion? It would mean a big war; the Poles are in alliance with the French and British."

"Mere pieces of paper, dear Hermann." Naujocks assured him with a wave of his hand. "They are paper treaties that will dissolve with the first real hint of hostilities."

Crossing to a table he poured out a shot of schnapps but neglected to offer any to Hermann. "And if the allies of the Poles do put up their fists, what can they do? France hides behind its Maginot Line of fortresses which a simple thrust through Belgium can outflank, while the British government -- so long the advocates of world disarmament - maintain an army that is small and weak and have an air force that is still under reconstruction after twenty years of neglect."

He paused only to throw the shot of corn liquor down his throat. "They are both bluffers, those two. They will stand back in regard to Poland just as they did with Czechoslovakia last year, and since Herr Ribbentrop as provided us with a friendship pact with Russia we can expect co-operation rather than interference from the Soviets."

"There are still the Americans to take into account. What about America?"

Naujocks smiled complacently. "The Americans pursue a policy of isolation and are turned inward on themselves. The rest of the planet can fry in hell for all they care. No. No need to fret about them. And anyway, when all is said and done, we are not threatening Western Europe. Hitler has his eyes focused on the east. He wants land, large stretches of it, and it's to the east where the land is."

"Everything seems to have been studied very rigorously, but then the Fuehrer is a genius and calculates every move he makes extremely well."

The other man smiled. "Yes, and it's advisable to leave the creation of ideas to those who know best. We do not make policy; we merely carry through the orders given to us. Come now my friend, this is serious business and we are serious-minded men. Anti-Polish feelings gives the German nation something to bind them together, and eventually Hitler can use that adhesion to dominate all of Western Europe while he completes what he has decided to do in the east. The Gestapo are committed to helping us in this business. The army as been warned and the generals are ready to move next week, so we must not let them down."

Moving forward Naujocks placed a hand on Hermann's shoulder in a comradely gesture. "I shouldn't need to draw pictures for you. The culprits -- the Polish troops involved in this little escapade - will a SD Sonderkommando of our own men."

***

Bratwurst and boiled potatoes was lunch. Just about every other meal provided for the house staff at Ravenskopf consisted of sausage of some kind, but Frau Klausen remained unimpressed by any complaint.

She switched off the sound of a German marching band that was playing on the wireless. "Don't moan about the food, at least you usually get meat. There's plenty of people in Germany these days who still exist on eating cabbage."

Pulling on the lamb's wool coat she wore constantly, winter and summer, she added vindictively. "There's a special police detachment visiting the town today. They're checking identity papers, looking for army deserters and shirkers trying to avoid military service."

No one at the table made a reply. She had finished her lunch duty and they watched her leave. They all knew she had been amusing herself by trying to sow a seed of alarm.

When she'd gone Loti gave Willie a nudge. "Don't worry about those policemen. Glerwitz is such a small place they'll be gone in a few hours, and they'll never come to Ravenskopf while Fraulein Dietz keeps in thick with Herr Strasser. He protects her from them."

"I'm fed-up with sausage and I'm fed-up with hiding. I wish I could go back to my studies." Willie said glumly.

The cook always left the kitchen pots to be cleaned by Loti and Rosalyn, which allowed Loti to scoop up some gravy from the dish served to Fraulein Dietz to put over his potatoes. "Where do you come from, Willie?"

"Leipzig is where my mother lives, but I'm much more at home in Heidelberg."

Loti slumped down at the table with his plate in front of him and expelled breath in a long sigh. "I'm a Berliner myself. I miss the hustle and bustle of that dirty, smelly old place and I wish I could go back there and sit in front of a big dish of kasespatzle. Have you ever been to Berlin?"

"Once when I was little I was taken there to visit a relative. I remember the Friedrichstrasse station and the tramways around the Potsdamer Platz, and of course the famous traffic tower."

"I lived not far from there." Loti told him, "I had lodgings on the Saarlandstrasse when I was in cabaret. Those were the good times. The adoring audiences, the applause, the Stage-Door Johnnies queuing for kisses and begging for a date. I knew Ernst Roehm, you know. I was one of his favourites. Do you know who I'm talking about?"

Willie moved his shoulders in an offhand gesture. "I think I do."

"Herr Roehm was the leader of the Sturm Abteilung, the Brownshirt storm troops. He was very high-up, very important. But then he fell out with the Fuehrer, and Hitler had him shot. The Night of the Long Knives, they called it. Hitler had hundreds of people shot that night, although some of them were allowed to drink poison if they preferred." He gave a small dismal shrug. "And then my conscription papers arrived and I had to come and hide here."

Rosalyn joined them having just completed serving Fraulein Dietz her coffee. "How is the Professor's book coming along, Willie?"

"I've completed a good portion of it. Fraulein Dietz is very pleased with what she's seen so far."

"She was very pleased with the impression it created with that professor from Berlin when he was here, and Herr Strasser reckons that if it is everything it promises to be it will stand shoulder to shoulder with Mein Kampf on every good German's bookshelf. I have the idea that Fraulein Dietz is relying on the sale of it to finance the refurbishment of this old house."

"Having put together such a fine thing will probably make you famous, Willie."

Willie chewed his sausage absently. "I didn't do much. I just wrote up Professor Dietz's notes and added a few bits."

Rosalyn put down his knife and fork and his face suddenly screwed up with alarm. "You added bits? What bits?"

"Well, the professor's notes are all rather fuddled and cranky, so I've had to put in a few bits of my own to make things sound more reasonable."

Loti's face clouded in concern. "Just how many bits of your own have you put in?"

Willie shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "Quite a lot actually. Some basic information and some conclusions that were needed. It would have been impossible to make everything fit together and make sense otherwise."

Loti frowned. "You're a silly bitch, Willie. Fraulein Dietz will send copies of her father's work to all kinds of important people when it's done. Perhaps even to the Fuehrer. If just one of them becomes curious and demands to see the original notes, then where will you be? Those lofty self-important kinds of people don't like being hoodwinked."

Rosalyn agreed. "No, they've got no sense of humour at all, so you'd better do something to delay finishing that book or Fraulein Dietz could find herself chucked into a Konzentrationslager, and you poor Willie, you will be sliced up and put through a meat-mincing machine."

Suddenly Willie Froehlich didn't feel like eating any more. He put down his knife and fork and pushed away his plate, a worried frown coming and going on his smooth cheeks. Placing a coffee cup between his bare elbows he crouched over it. When he looked into the sympathetic blue-shadowed eyes of his companions and knew they were right. In trying so hard to please Fraulein Dietz he was probably digging his own grave.

***

Late on a summer evening, Sonderkommando Naujocks - six men dressed in civilian clothes and travelling in two black Opal saloon cars - arrived in the town of Gleiwitz. They stayed overnight in the Hotel Oberschlesischer Hof and the next morning in the guise of a geological research team they spent time digging around ostensibly collecting earth samples from various places in the town.

No one found it odd that they hovered most of the time in the vicinity of the soot-stained building of the radio station, so during this reconnaissance it was quickly established that the easiest way into the building was at the front. At the top of a short flight of stone steps the double doors of the front entrance seemed to be perpetually pinned back to allow access.

While the others made their observations Hermann Strasser visited Fraulein Dietz to enlist her co-operation -- for the good of the German nation and the glory of the National Socialist Party, he told her - and later that afternoon the entire team drove to Ravenskopf where they changed into brown Polish army uniforms.

The air was thick with cigarette smoke in the small, long disused salon where Naujock assembled his team. He noticed that their clothes fitted badly, but that didn't matter for a one-off, one-act play.

His men were joking about with a pair of lace panties they'd found under one of the cushions, and he smiled with them. "No flirting with the skirts in this place while we are here." he told them. "Stay anonymous and keep focused on the job we have to do."

He checked his watch. "We'll return to the town at nineteen-thirty and go into the radio station by the front entrance, slick and quick. The daytime office staff there will have gone by then, so there will be fewer people to worry about. Remember that the Gestapo are in this with us, but the local police aren't, so if any of them get in the way play out the role of a Polish terrorist and shoot them."

He half-turned and then turned back, and with a grim smile added. "I'll remind you now that this is top-secret business and if you're disabled and get left behind you'll have to shoot yourself. If you don't kill yourself the Gestapo clean-up squad will certainly do it for you. Verstanden?"

There was a unified chorus of "Jawohl" from everyone present, after which he drew Hermann Strasser to one side.

"Hermann, make sure you know the text you have to read, there won't be time for rehearsals later. And I hope you know your stuff. This country-bumpkin Radiohaus we're attacking will be operating on a local waveband and we must broadcast on a national one, and there is always a possibility that the people there will refuse to co-operate with us."

"I don't have a problem with that. Whilst I was in Berlin I spent some time at the radio studio's to familiarise myself with the switch-over procedure."

"That's good. Now, one last thing. The girl's from this place never go into the town, do they?"

"No. Fraulein Dietz keeps them tied to the house and watches over them like they were prize brood mares."

"Which is ideal for our plans. It means they won't be recognised, so choose one of them to accompany us. I want her to go in first."

"A girl?"

"Yes. We need to provide a distraction. When we were in the town earlier I noticed a security guard sits inside the door at the Radio Station, and if he's alert and sees Polish soldiers running up the steps this evening he may well slam the doors in our face and lock them. That would be an inauspicious start to our adventure, wouldn't it?"

Hermann Strasser's eyes opened wide. "It would be a disaster. That place is built like a blockhouse; we'd need a tank to get in."

The other man nodded. "That would be hardly slick and quick, would it? That's why we need a girl to engage the guard in conversation and get him to turn his back to the street if possible, until we're all inside. Choose one. No, tell that beguiling little thing that acts as the Fraulein's secretary to come with us. She's got good legs and an arse to make eyeballs explode."

***

They had timed it precisely. The dark building of the radio station loomed before them as the two Opal saloons pulled into the kerb at the roadside no more than a hundred yards from their destination. It was only early evening but there was no one about. The street was empty. Gleiwitz was a small market town and everyone would be having a meal at that time. The whole place was dreaming in evening sunshine and not even a stray dog was moving within their vision.

"I don't like this. I don't like being here." bemoaned Willie from the back seat of the first car.

Hermann Strasser swung round from his place beside the driver. "Shut up for goodness sake. All you have to do is talk to the man on the door. You won't be in any danger. Just hold his attention until we all get inside."

Willie climbed from the car and walked unhappily towards the front of the radio station. He'd been told nothing about the reason he was there; just talk nicely to the man on the door was all he'd been told. The men in the cars could have been a gang of robbers, except that he knew the ugly building in front of him wasn't a bank.

Life had become so terribly complicated lately. The wretched book he had been compelled to write had put him in a dilemma. His original idea was simply to do something to please Fraulein Dietz, but the silly woman had become ambitious for what he'd made of it. The snag was that although the preposterous make-believe he'd created was good enough to fool her it was unlikely to fool everyone, and if he did completed it -- a book almost wholly strung together by imaginative fabrication - they would both probably end up in a prison camp.

He was trapped by it. How was he to get out of the hole into which he had dug himself? Maybe if he had explained the problem to Eduard he would have been able to bring his sister to her senses. He felt strong when Eduard was near and so weak when he wasn't. But it was too late for that now. Eduard had returned to his unit and he had no idea when he would see him again.

The building loomed before him, a square, soot-encrusted place with rows of small unwashed windows and a heavy entrance door standing wide to admit the maximum amount of air on a sultry evening. When he saw the set of steps leading up to the door he had a strong urge to turn and run, but in the end he was more fearful of the men in the cars than the steps.

He hung back for a moment like a lion-tamers apprentice, then taking a deep breath he trip-trapped lightly up to the entrance.

Sat to the left, just inside the open door in a sort of foyer area sat an elderly blue-suited guard who was just about to bite into a sandwich. Willie gave him a winning smile. "Oh, hello. I'm new around here, just visiting the town. This is a nice building. Is it... erm...is it the Town Hall?"

Swamped by the attention of a pretty girl, the guard put his sandwich back into the tin he'd taken it from and stood up smiling. "This place is more important than the average Rathaus, little Fraulein."

Willie stepped further into the building, wiggling his bottom alluringly, and the man's eyes followed his every move. At last he turned towards him. Distract the man, had been his instructions. Hold his attention. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and conjured up a vampish smile. "I'm intrigued. Tell me more..."

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