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Below are the first 4 chapters of a 53 chapter novel:
These following chapters are the sole property of Reginald Angus Argue (pen name of Angus McLeod) and cannot be reproduced or copied in whole or in part, unless the written consent has been given by the author (Reginald Angus Argue aka Angus McLeod).
Chapter 2 Operation Blue Eagle
Chapter 4 The Deciption Continues
THE LIE BEGINS
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He stood silently in a room from hell, while an ice-cold sadistic smirk covered his white chalky face. As he looked around at what was left of his closest advisers and friends, the numbers seemed to be a small fraction compared to what they once were.
Looking up, and glancing at his audience, he noticed that he had all of their attention. He cleared his throat; the room went silent as a morgue. All at once, he began, "My friends do not worry about our glorious movement; for this round we have been beaten, however do not underestimate our situation. Plans have already been drawn up, to resurrect our Party back into the light, where we will rise out of the ashes like the Phoenix, breathing justice out of our mouth, regaining our rightful place as masters above all nations." Like a great orator, he paused and quickly glanced at his followers. He observed them absorbing his energy. "Before long we will rise again with the blood of our past still fresh in our minds, making everybody who has turned against us pay with their children's blood. All the nations of the world will crumble and quiver at our feet on the final judgment day. Remember we must show no mercy; for our enemies will show no mercy to us, while they divide us up with their victory swords." He paused again, and reached out for a drink of water from a clear crystal glass that was one of the rare things left over from his glorious reign of power. He turned the glass around in his hand and noticed a small crack running down its side. With one motion, he slowly took a drink, and went through the rest of his speech in his mind. For a brief moment, he seemed to be in a trance. Without warning, the glass slipped from his hand and shattered into a million pieces on the floor. He steadily kept his composure not even acknowledging the broken glass. "All of you may ask, why I have gathered you here at this point of time.” There was a brief moment of silence, as his eyes scanned the room. “Each of you has been chosen to help with the reconstructing of our glorious party. However, none of you will be aware of who is actually in charge. So if you are captured and tortured, you will only know the first step of the plan.” His face remained emotionless, as he paused and drew in a breath of air. “Unfortunately, none of us will see the plan unfold in its finest hour. Although, we can all take satisfaction in telling our grandchildren we were involved in the beginning stages of the New World Order." He raised his right arm.
"Siege Heil," all of his advisors and friends shouted, and raised their arms to salute him.
Even those there was only a handful at his side, the chorus of millions echoed in his head.
"I must leave, but I want all of you never to forget how close we came to having it all!"
All of his advisers and friends stood there paralyzed with a look of utter disbelief spread across their faces. While a realization filled the air that the end was coming at them fast, with an uncertain future lying at their feet.
He slowly turned to his right and for a moment, he paused as he admired a woman, who was standing by his side. He was amazed by how she truly emphasized a true example of the Nordic Master Race. Not waiting any longer, he reached out and grasped her by her right arm, "Shall we retire to our quarters before the ceremony?"
The woman gazed deeply into his eyes, “Yes,” she replied and turned with him.
As they were turning, he leaned toward her and whispered, "Dear Emma, until I draw my last breath, you will always be at my side with me."
Still holding onto her arm, his mind began to blank out everyone around him. His eyes cut through them as if they were not even there, while he proceeded slowly across the room to his quarters, maneuvering around empty chairs and tables. A shadow of a big and mighty person appeared before his eyes. He squeezed his left hand tightly, and felt the blood pounding through the veins in his hand. He thought to himself, "Why did I put my trust in these weak men?"
Every footstep he took made his heart pound louder and louder. How could it have all fallen apart? His mighty forces, which only a short time ago appeared to be so unstoppable, now lay in ruins. Before long, the enemy would send its last crushing blow at them and with one motion they would squash them like an ant, ending the reign of power, well short of the thousand years that he had originally promised his people. His eyes grew more and more devious, for he had another card to play, a card that was guaranteed to keep his enemies guessing at what the actual truth could be.
With his lips firmly held shut and his head held up high, he appeared defiant to the end. “Why did his followers not give one hundred percent to him?” kept running through his mind. He briefly stood in front of his quarters. Then after a couple of seconds, he reached out and slowly turned the doorknob. His heart began to sink deeper and deeper, as he gradually exposed a room on the other side of the door. He paused at the entrance to his quarters; his eyes were pulled toward a mirror that was directly across from him. All at once, he was met with the reflection of an average size man, with brown grayish hair, a short mustache, and blood shot eyes. Not at all like the god-like race that he had tried to create. He entered the room, and held back his tears, refusing to give into weakness in front of the others. All the while his eyes were fixed on the room, and at all of the contents within it. He could not believe how much his comforts had drastically changed, in just these last couple of months. Now all he had was a couch, which was just in front of him, a chair, which was just off to the right side of the couch, and a single bed was in an adjoining room for him to sleep on. How drastically his life had gone from one extreme to another. So many years ago he had been an ordinary Corporal in an infantry Unit, in mud up to his knees on the Western front of World War I, fighting with the rats for his food, as he helplessly stood by watching his friends remained forever young, while the gutless leaders of his nation betrayed them to their enemies. Then through careful planning and skill, he had managed to become one of the most powerful men in the world. Now he was back where he had started, only this time the world was his enemy
Still clenching his fist, he gracefully turned toward Emma and smiled. He could not help but to admire her beauty, and through his water-filled eyes she still appeared to be like an angel.
Ever so slowly, he began to speak; "You have seen it all with me and through it all, you have not left my side."
Emma's eyes glimmered with affection and respect; "Only my death will take me from your side."
"You are the only one whom I can still trust with my thoughts."
A knock on the door pierced the air, jolting him from her side.
"Enter!" Von Kron yelled
The door snapped open like a cannon, exposing a man, who was the perfect example of the Nordic Arian race. There stood a tall, lean, well-built man, who had straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and in his middle twenties. The man took one step forward into the room. Stopping sharply, he saluted with precision, while his uniform of a Major clung to him as if it was form fitted, which only further emphasized his lean physique.
Von Kron immediately wondered why this god-like race, which he had created, had been beaten by an inferior species of human beings, who were like rats that had been allowed to spread everywhere. "Herr Cratz. Is everything going as planned?"
"Yes, it will take place shortly, my Fuhrer. Would you please follow me?"
"When will all of the loose ends be taken care of?"
"They will be taken care within the next couple of days, my Fuhrer. However, we do not have time to discuss this situation. Our time is very press, so could you both please follow me. We have to leave immediately!”
"Good, let's go."
He turned to Emma, "Shall we go?"
Emma nodded, as a look of uneasiness crossed her face.
Cratz gave one last salute and turned to lead the way.
As Von Kron walked out of his quarters, he headed into a long narrow grayish color hallway, which led directly to a dark hole, where the exit of the staircase laid. He proceeded behind Cratz and Emma, while he thought, "I may have lost the battle, but not the war." The time that he had spent here had made him feel like he was in a land-based coffin, with only this one escape, which led straight into the madness on the surface.
They ascended up the staircase, and each step seemed to echo throughout the air, while the light of day slowly came into view. Soon he would have the chance to play his last card. A smile was spread across his face, as he set foot above ground for the first time in days. The brightness of the sun nearly blinded him. He tried desperately to adjust his eyes to the brightness of the daylight, only to have green spots dance in front of his sight. With his eyes straining to see, he gazed over at Emma and saw the horror of the landscape reflected in her face. Before them lay the enormous destruction of what had once been a glorious city, reduced to piles of rubble and broken souls. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, as she screamed, "Our glorious city! It has been turned into a graveyard. Why can't the enemies see that they have defeated us and stop going after non military targets, with their fire from high in the sky!"
No one responded to her; only the sound of bombs, artillery, and small arms fire echoing from the distance managed to cut through the silence.
A black Volkswagen suddenly appeared, shining through the eerie scene like a ghost from out of nowhere. It illuminated its self, as it traveled through a maze of walls riddled with shell holes.
The vehicle appeared to be in a battered and torn condition, while what seemed like six inches of dirt and dust covered it like a glove. It was perfect. But the best part was that it had no military identification or swastika on it. This could only help him further to be less conspicuous, as he dashed for his freedom.
Emma carefully opened the rear passenger’s door on the vehicle, and briefly hesitated for a second. A look of utter terror covered her face, quickly she turned to Von Kron, "Where are we going?"
With only deadly silence for an answer to her question, she cautiously crawled into the back seat of the vehicle.
He briefly paused at the open door, and turned toward Cratz, "Is everything in place for the enemies from the east?"
"Yes my Fuhrer, the inferior enemy will be too blind to see the truth."
"When will the replacements be arriving?"
"They will be arriving this afternoon, my Fuhrer."
"I see everything is in hand my friend. Take care and good luck in your attempts to escape.
Remember, you are a very important part of reorganizing the party, so be extremely careful."
Cratz bit down hard on his lip, and fought to hold back his emotion, while it started to bubble up from inside of him. With a smile on his face, he responded, "Thank you, my Fuhrer."
Von Kron quickly climbed into the Volkswagen, thinking to himself, "How ironic it was that he had started to build these vehicles to provided mass transportation for the people. Now this vehicle, which was one of the last produced, was providing transportation for himself and Emma to escape this hell."
The leather seat gripped his body, while he sat there motionlessly in the backseat of the vehicle. Pictures of marching bands, cheering crowds and a once mighty force filled his memories. Not so long ago he stood in front of millions, restoring a Nation's self-respect and esteem, while he returned everyone to work. He had slowly captivated his country’s soul, with his seductiveness and leadership, as he led them toward total world domination. All the while, he was building the military up to a force to be feared. Although, with the almost inevitable crushing defeat of his forces about to take place. The vehicle slowly departed from in front of the building, which in another time generated massive amounts of power. But now it seemed, it was all for nothing. The vehicle gradually picked up speed, and navigated around the rubble of these once magnificent buildings, which in another time had made up the center of this once great city.
A look of confusion covered Emma's face, "Where are we going? What about the death pact we agreed upon yesterday?"
"Be patient, my darling. Soon, I will tell you everything you need to know." He turned away from Emma, and leaned back into the seat. His eyes gazed out the window at the countryside, which lay before him. He instantly thought about the plan, hoping that Herr Cratz had taken care of every-last detail.
The vehicle slowly gathered speed out of Berlin, while he sat silently in the back seat. A look of disappointment covered his face, like an umbrella; manifesting the knowledge that this would be the last time he would possibly see Berlin free and great again, in his lifetime. He glanced at the destruction, with a great emptiness surrounding him, like a void of hollowness. As long as he lived, he would never forget the former true beauty of Berlin, which was now in ruins. With Germany sitting on the footstep of destruction and the allies closing in like demons coming out of hell, he started to wonder what the future would hold for his country. What would happen to the economy that had been solely based upon the war efforts? For a couple of seconds a grinding noise came from the engine, as the driver fought to find third gear. Finally the transmission caught and the car picked up speed. At that point in time, the countryside was like a blur, just flying by before Von Kron’s face and each bump they hit caused him to momentarily leave his seat, and then just as fast he came crashing back down into his seat.
The car swerved to avoid a line of refugees, and Von Kron glanced out his window at the parade of endless people. He thought to himself, "God, these proud people do not deserve to be like walking zombies, carrying their meager worldly possessions on their backs, and running from an enemy into a desert of nowhere."
With deadly speed the vehicle continued on, constantly swerving in and out of the line of people, barely missing the occasional person by fractions of inches. But yet, not once did they slow down or stop, for time was not on their side.
A sensation of helplessness started to overcome Von Kron. He did not know what to do for his people, to relieve their pain. How he wished that he could somehow go back in time and change the future, however it was impossible, for time was not on his side at this moment. If only his Generals would have listened to him, and run the war the way that he had wanted to, he would have been the victor.
Without any warning, the driver swerved to avoid piles of rubble and potholes that were all over the road, which send Von Kron and Emma sliding from side to side.
He gripped the door handle, and tried to hold on.
Emma turned to him, "Oh Albert, I wish I could pull down the moon and dry those tear filled eyes of yours."
"Just having you here is of great comfort."
"You are doing the right thing. By staying, you would have accomplished nothing. Although, I would like to know one thing, are we going to die?"
"Do not worry; I will never let anything happen to you."
"Thank you my darling."
He turned back to the window, to get another glimpse of the countryside. The pain of not only leaving his beautiful German shepherd, who had always given him unconditional love, but also abandoning his worldly possessions, slowly ate away at him. He remembered the good old days of playing fetch with Blondie. Amazement grasped his mind when he remembered how loyal Blondie was, and how she would get endless entertainment out of little things. Then pictures of the precious gifts that he had received from his estranged mother, started to play in front of him.
Never would he rest until he regained what belonged to him and the traitors who had turned on him were punished.
The only angel in all this was his true love Emma, who was his savior in the night. He let his mind wander back to earlier days, to when he first met her in 1932. Her beauty was breath taking; she appeared to be like a rose, which was just beginning to bloom in amongst daises, making all the other ladies look ordinary in the crowd. He was certain that keeping her at his side through the years had been his greatest move. Now that he was about to start all over again, she would be his leaning post, to pull him up when he was down. Most importantly, she would be a major asset, to help him rebuild the Party out of the burning flames of defeat. Still he did not want to worry her with the details of the escape. The right time would come later, when he could fill her in with all of the details of the plan.
Minutes slowly turned into hours, as the sun slowly pulled itself across the sky. With silence filling the air in the car, he sat there motionless staring out the window at his countryside. From time to time, he tightened up his fists and clenched them in a tight ball, while his eyes blazed with fire. "How dare his Generals not give one hundred percent and win the war, that they should have won," he kept thinking over and over.
The car came to an abrupt stop, sending Von Kron and Emma into the back of the front seat.
The windows in the car shook violently, while explosions commenced to happen all around them.
The driver darted out of his seat and ran to open the rear driver's side door. As he opened the rear door on the driver’s side, he exposed his passengers to the outside world.
"Finally we have reached our destination," Von Kron said climbing out of the open door.
A question mark expression covered Emma’s face as a mask, when she followed right behind him.
A thick layer of smoke choked off the fresh air, while in the background the sound of burning wood snapped and popped. He stood there and was shocked at how this once great seaport had been turned into piles of rock, clay dust, and burnt timbers. It appeared to be like a massive wasteland. The docks, which were once used to unload ships loaded with goods from all over the world, were burnt and half gone.
Emma turned and had a baffled look on her face, "Why, are we here?"
"This is the surprise, which I wanted to tell you about. In a short time, we will be on our way out of here, on a U boat."
"Where are we going, what will we do? ---"
"Calm down my darling, together we will go to a neutral country and rebuild the Master
Race."
Tears of surprise and joy began to flow down Emma’s cheeks, "Albert I will gladly follow---"
"Pardon me, my Fuhrer, the U boat is waiting. I suggest both of you head for it, it is not safe to stand here, for too long."
As soon as the driver finished, explosions started, sending debris everywhere. With one quick motion, the driver dove on top of Von Kron and Emma, providing them with a human shield. A look of terror instantly came to Von Kron’s face, as he hit the ground with a thud. Each passing second seemed to seal his doom more and more, as the intensity of explosions increased all around them. Then just as fast as the explosions had started, they stopped. For a couple of more seconds he remained still, while the weight of the driver seemed to get heavier. He suddenly pushed the driver's body off him, and the lifeless body rolled to the side. For a brief second, he glanced over at the bloody body, and saw half of the driver’s head was missing, while what remained was slowly oozing onto the ground. He immediately realized that they had survived because of the sacrifice of this man.
Emma quickly rose to her feet, and a look of urgency covered her face, as the explosions began again all around them, yet Von Kron was still on his knees. She yelled, "Get up!"
Not responding, almost in a trance state, he knelt there.
She grabbed a hold of his shoulder, and shook him, trying to break his trance, but he wasn’t responding. Then just as fast, he snapped back to reality, and climbed back to his feet.
Emma, with a worried look in her eyes asked, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I am just fine. Why do you ask?"
"You have been in a trance for a couple of minutes. I think that we had better get out of here."
Von Kron grasped Emma and pulled her close to protect her from the flying pieces of wood and shrapnel, as the two of them ran toward the beach, 300-yard off to the left of them, where a small boat appeared to be waiting.
With each step, the sensation of freedom grew from within him, from a small ball until it consumed him. For a moment, when they first hit the gravel beach, he briefly stumbled. He regained his balance, and he saw people on the boat, motioning to him.
A smile of victory spread across his face, for he was on the final sprint to his freedom. In his mind he had won. How unintelligible his enemies were. In due time, he would make them all look like fools. He could not help but laugh out loud because soon he would have a new lease on life, one which he intended to put to good use.
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A deep sense of sadness flowed throughout the air, as he stood in a man-made dungeon of the bunker. Not knowing which way to go, he dare not move a muscle, for the atmosphere made him feel closed in like a caged rat. Even the light of day or the darkest of night could not penetrate the fifty feet of dirt and concrete. Only the sound of a generator constantly filled the air not allowing a moment of peace. His eyes were filled with anger and vengeance. Only a short time ago, the mighty war machine of the National Socialist Party was using all of this. But sadly he was forced to admit to himself, it was all in the past, with no secret super weapon to save them from the destruction of war. The only hope that he had was that the allied powers would fall for this impossible mission, which he was about to undertake. In the distance, Cratz could hear footsteps of people, running up and down the hallway, heading toward the exit, as they tried to destroy all of the incriminating paperwork.
"Herr Cratz. Has our glorious leader safely departed yet?"
Startled by the unannounced voice, Cratz looked up from the maps on the table, which lay in front of him. He saw a middle age man, who appeared to have no sleep for days, "Yes . . . he has, Herr Goebbel."
"Shall we begin with discussions on Operation Blue Eagle?"
There was a brief moment of silence, then Cratz acknowledged with a nod.
“What are the latest reports on the Western Allies location?”
"Our sources indicate that the Western Allies are closing in on Austria, and this is where Herr Himmler has headed, to propose a peace offering."
"Good. If they accept the proposal, it will give us a couple of extra weeks, which will allow us time to complete this operation."
Cratz turned, and promptly headed toward the hallway; deep in thought as to what actions he had to accomplish. Not once did he acknowledge anyone else as he headed down the cold dark hallway toward the exit of the bunker. It was top priority for all of them, to carry out their part of the plan, for the mission to be successful. For a brief moment in time, he felt safe under these many layers of concrete that had not yet been affected by the destruction on the surface; but he knew that this bunker was no protection against the forces, which were quickly approaching Berlin from all sides. A stream of sweat flowed into his eyes and brought him back to reality. He gazed at his watch and realized that time was crucial. Immediately, he rushed up the stairs. Each step he took caused his heels to dig into the hard concrete stairs and the sound echoed throughout the staircase. Every seven steps the stairs turned ninety degrees where a small landing was, which allowed people to move past each other.
He paused on the last landing just before the outside and caught his breath. Soon he would never again have to go back down into this hole, a hole that made him feel claustrophobic every time that he descended into its darkness because of the close confines.
He stepped out onto the surface, and the light of day hit him in the face. Cratz halted for a fraction of a second. He looked around, squinting, trying to see past the brightness of the sun.
Two images suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and advanced toward him in a swift motion.
"Where are the two guests that were requested by the Fuhrer?"
"They are in the car, which is parked down at the street."
"Have the guests’ records of ever existing been erased?"
"Yes, their relatives will think that they were eradicated in one of our many ovens that were set up to erase these types of people from the world."
"Bring them here!"
The two ghostly images quickly turned away, and headed back toward their car, leaving Cratz alone for few minutes. Time seemed to stand still with each second that passed by, while the world continued to evolve all around him. Cratz stood alone, with the sun baking his face, while memories of the good old days flooded his thoughts. The times when all of his dreams had been fulfilled flashed in front of his eyes. However now he stood there, looking at the devil directly in the face, with his whole world laying in pieces in front of his feet. He prayed that time would cure not only his own pain, but also the German people's pain.
The two soldiers reappeared and were escorting two people, who were wearing prisoner of war clothing. One of them was a male, who was in his early fifties with brown hair, and the other person was a female, who had blonde hair and was in her mid thirties.
He rubbed the dust out of his eyes, and thought, “They will do just fine.” How perfect his part seemed to be proceeding. If the others were having as much success as he was the operation would be a guaranteed victory. He followed behind the soldiers and the two guests, back into the abyss of the bunker, as a sense of invincibility rose from deep within him. Each step that he took down the stairs drew him deeper and deeper, into the headquarters of the madness.
Cratz paused for a brief second just outside of the Fuhrer’s quarters. “Make sure that those people change into the clothes, which are laid out on the couch.”
Not waiting for any response, Cratz turned his attention away from the two guests and down the hallway to Goebbel, whose hands appeared to be trembling and shaking uncontrollably. Without warning, Goebbel grabbed a silver flask from his inner pocket, and took a stiff drink. Right away his nerves seemed to be calmed down. He pulled the flask away from his lips, and put it away.
An image of a tall lean man, in his early twenties with blonde hair, caught Cratz’s eyes as the man appeared before Goebbel.
"Herr Helldorf, I need you to deliver this package to Auasburg." Goebbel reached under his coat, and pulled out an envelope.
"Yes sir, I will take care of it right away. Are all of the roads still open?"
"According to the latest reports the roads are still open. Although be advised if you see any sign of the enemy, destroy this package at once. Under no circumstances can this package fall into enemy hands."
"Yes sir."
"Once this package has been dropped off, the receptionist will hand you another package. As soon as you are clear of the drop off site, destroy that package!"
"Yes sir," Helldorf gave a salute, and snapped his heels together.
Goebbel returned the salute.
The ringing of the field telephone pulled Goebbel from the hallway, and he quickly ran back into the debriefing room.
With the spirit of a young child, Cratz walked down the hallway from the Fuhrer’s old quarters. He briefly stood outside the debriefing room. His eyes were immediately pulled toward an emblem of two eagles back-to-back, right next to a swastika, just above the solid steel door. In a flash, the strong humid air was covered with the smell of leather and sweat. He stood his ground, while a trickle of perspiration ran down his face, as he started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
With a sense of pride at what he had accomplished so far in the plan, he entered the room. His eyes focused on Goebbel, who stood alone by some maps at the far end of the room with a look of defeat covering his face.
"What is the problem Herr Goebbel?"
"It's Herr Himmler's peace proposal…it has been turned down flatly by the Western Allies. They did not even listen to him; they just took him prisoner. Then shortly afterwards he took his life by hanging himself with his own shoelaces. I feel this is a sign of things to come.”
"Do not worry. This just means that we are going to have to condense the time line of the operation, for it to succeed. Is the rest of the Operation Blue Eagle going as planned?"
"Yes, my end is being covered as we speak."
"All we have to do is to dispatch a news release condemning Herr Himmler, as a traitor. This one action will help to blind the enemies’ eyes and make it easier to turn a lie into what they will think is the truth." A smile slowly engulfed Cratz’s face. He promptly recognized that generating a lie at this level was becoming more and more feasible.
"What are we going to do with Herr Himmler's share of the hidden riches?"
"I guess, we are going to have to divide up his share between you and I."
"Good." Goebbel responded, while his color started to come back to his face.
The only thing that seemed to be standing in Cratz’s way to success was time, “Herr Goebbel, I am going to lie down for a bit and catch up on some rest.”
“I will check in on my family for a little while, and afterwards I will be back to wake you.”
Ever so slowly Cratz removed his coat and let his sweat soaked cotton shirt have a chance to breathe. He paused for a moment and folded his tunic into a ball. The lights in the room flickered, indicating that there was barely enough fuel to keep the generator going. In a short time, it would all be over. As he climbed up on top of a table, every muscle in his body began to creek and moan. He laid his head down on his coat and his eyes slowly became too heavy to stay open.
After what seemed like only minutes, he opened his eyes and realized it had been hours. The hard uncomfortable table ate away at his back, causing a pain to shoot up and down his spine. He rolled off the table and rose to his feet. The mood of the room felt tense, while the outside world was falling apart like a nightmare, with fire from the sky consuming the surface.
A thought came to Cratz’s mind, as he watched Goebbel enter the room.
"How is your end of Operation Blue Eagle going?" Cratz asked.
"Just as planned," Goebbel responded.
"Good, then the Fuhrer should be just passing through Neubrandenburg as we are speaking."
"Yes, and if the plan keeps unfolding the way it should, the submarine will be waiting for him in a seaport that is Straland, which is located in the North Western part of Germany."
"Just think in only a few short hours from now we will have been successful in pulling off the deception of the century. Then our great Fuhrer will be able to rebuild our ranks, restoring our rightful place as rulers above all other men."
"How are our two guests doing in the Fuhrer's old quarters?”
A sinister smile covered Cratz’s face, "Good! But it does not matter how they are doing."
"Has all the dental work on the two guests been done as required?"
"Yes Heir Goebbel, Doctor Blaschke carried out all of the requirements."
"Make sure that the Doctor gets taken care of, we do not want any loose ends that could possibly derail the plan."
"Do not worry about the Doctor, for he has already met with a terrible accident." Waiting a few moments, Cratz thought about the actions that he had to carry out, "Has Herr Helldorf reached his objective yet?"
"He should be pulling into Auasburg as we speak."
Helldorf slammed the gears of the transmission down from third to second, causing the car to scream under the pressure of the engine slowing down. His destination was approaching and in a short time; it would all be over. With his nerves about ready to explode, he began to watch for the address. The streets seemed like a ghost town, with not a person in sight.
In a flash, the address appeared out of nowhere. He slammed on the brakes, as if his life depended on it, causing the car to screech to a stop.
With one motion he jumped out of the car. Grabbing the package, he quickly ran up the front stairs of the building. Not even stopping at the entrance, he flung open the door and barged in.
Behind the receptionist desk, a tired beaten woman appeared from out of nowhere and surprised Helldorf. Not even saying a word, Helldorf just handed the woman the package. Without any exchange of words, she handed him another package. Not questioning anything, he took the package and left. The moment he hit the outside, the stench of smoke and dust hung in the air. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, for there lying in front of him was his once glorious country, which was now in ruins. Each step that he took was one closer to a new life. He seemed to be in a trance, shutting out the world that was closing in around him.
As he stood outside the car, Helldorf was on the last step of his mission. Soon his life would be his own.
He slowly climbed back into the car and his heart commenced to beat faster and faster. He glanced over his shoulder; immediately his face wore a mask of terror, while his eyes grew in size. Without warning, he was hit in the head by a bullet, which shattered his skull, and spread particles of his brain onto the front windshield. Helldorf’s body slumped forward, and the unknown assassin exited the vehicle. The first part of the job had been done. While the assassin walked to the next vehicle, he threw a grenade into the front of the driver’s side of Helldorf’s vehicle. Almost immediately there was an explosion, which sealed the fate of Helldorf’s mission.
The buzzing of the field telephone pulsated throughout the air, jolting the two of them from their conversation; Goebbel being the closest clutched the phone and answered it. His face slowly developed a smile; he hung up the telephone and turned to Cratz.
"The package has reach Auasburg, and the deliverer has been taken care of."
"Good."
"It was a shame to lose such a good man like Helldorf; but sacrifices have to be made."
"How right you are my friend. Now, I will take care of our guests, who are waiting in the Fuhrer’s old quarters."
“Do you have the cyanide?”
“Yes I do.”
Cratz turned on his heels and left the room, heading back out into the hallway. His mind began to go through what actions that he had to do next. He briefly stopped just outside of the debriefing room and saw a young, tall, blonde haired, SS guard, walking towards the Fuhrer’s old quarters, with a tray that held supper for the male and female guests.
“That is far enough Corporal I will take it from there.”
The Guard, handed Cratz the tray, then turned and left.
A smile grew across Cratz’s face, while he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle, “This should do the job just fine.” Not even pausing, he poured the contents of the bottle into two glasses of wine.
He paused, momentarily, while the Cyanide bubbled and dissolved into the wine. Each passing second seemed to drag on, as he stirred the wineglasses with a fork.
The second the cyanide had mixed into the wine, he wiped the fork off on a dark napkin and turned towards the door, which led into the Fuhrer’s old quarters. He slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door; all the while his eyes were dancing with evil thoughts. Silence met him as he slowly proceeded into the room. The two guests remained perfectly still on the couch not moving a muscle; they appeared like two church mice who were too frightened to do anything.
“I see you have changed your clothes. Good here is your supper.”
Cratz laid the tray down on a small table in front of the couch and turned to leave the room. He headed back to the debriefing room, waiting for the wine to do its job. For a brief moment, he stopped in the hallway, and pulled a package of cigarettes from his left pocket. His hands began to shake, as he fumbled in the pack and tried to pull out a cigarette. He started to wonder, if there was enough time left to finish the final steps of the plan before the enemy forces converged from every side and crushed them in their tight grip. His nerves commenced to race, as he lit the cigarette and let the smoke run down his lungs. How close they were to completing the plan; they only needed a little more time to be successful. He took a deep breath and let a large amount of smoke invade his lungs, as he tried to quiet his mind.
The clanging from the bells on the field telephone pulled Cratz’s attention back to the present. He threw the cigarette on the ground and without any more delay he headed back to the debriefing room.
The second Cratz entered the debriefing room; a smile came on his face. In a short period of time it would all be over.
Goebbel’s voice echoed throughout the room, "The Eagle is in its bed."
A smile engulfed Goebbel’s face, while he hung up the phone.
“Herr Cratz the Eagle is in his bed and it is time to carry out the last leg of the plan.”
Not even pausing, Cratz turned and headed back to the Fuhrer's old quarter, believing the poison had done its job by now. He could almost picture how the two guests were fighting for their last breath of air.
A sensation of deviousness grasped him in a tight hold, when he reached the Fuhrer’s old quarters; slowly he rotated the doorknob. He could not hear a noise on the other side. "Success!" he thought to himself.
He held his breath, while the door slowly opened; pausing for a fraction of a second he stepped in. He froze as a look of shock covered his face. His eyes focused on the guest, who had survived. Not wasting any time, he regained his senses, and pulled out his pistol from its holster. With a serious look on his face, he pointed the pistol at the male guest, who stood shaking in a corner, "Sit down on the couch."
"No, no," the guest replied.
He advanced toward the guest and raised his pistol.
Each passing second, Cratz felt his level of patience growing shorter and shorter. As he reached the man’s side, he grabbed him by the shoulder, and threw him onto the couch.
The guest landed with a thud next to the motionless body of his female counterpart. The man immediately raised his arms to protect himself, “Please…please do not kill me!”
Cratz sat down on a chair next to the couch, and looked at the guest, "My friend, you have nothing to worry about, just lower your arms, I will not do anything to harm you."
The man slowly lowered his arm exposing his head, and without warning Cratz pulled the trigger of his pistol. The impact of the bullet instantly caused the guest’s head to explode, leaving half of his skull splattered on the wall behind him.
Without Cratz saying a word, the door bolted open, and in rushed Goebbel and Von Kron’s chauffeur. Both of them grabbed the male’s body, and dragged him out of the room toward the narrow staircase.
Cratz quickly rose from the chair, and put his pistol away. He briefly stopped and gripped the female body by the arm. With one motion, he threw the lifeless body over his shoulders. For a second, he stumbled then he managed to regain his balance and headed out into the hallway that headed directly to the staircase, which led to the surface. When he hit the steps that exited the bunker, he took them one at a time, while the weight of the female’s body dug into his shoulders and back. Sweat began to pour from his forehead, as he saw the final steps to the bunker just in front of him. His breath grew heavier and heavier, as the light of day started to come into his view. Soon he would be stepping out of the safety of the bunker again, heading back out into the destruction that covered a once great land. He paused for a moment as he reached the surface, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He took a deep breath and continued to where Goebbel was standing. In a short period of time, all of the plan would be in place. A devious look danced in Cratz’s eyes, as he reached Goebbel and threw the female body to the ground.
Cratz gazed around, and saw that fire was consuming all the buildings. Somehow he felt like he was in hell on earth. Overtop of the popping crackling noises coming from the fires, he heard the sound of two bodies being thrown into a shallow grave. Seconds passed by and everyone stood back. As he gazed at the bodies, a soldier started to pour gasoline over the bodies and then lit them.
"You know the tale to tell, and remember if you were to forget it; these burning bodies would be every member of your family," Cratz said as he turned to Von Kron’s chauffeur
"Do not worry about me, Herr Cratz, I would not even think of trying to prevent the glorious rebirth of the new Master Race."
“So where is the vehicle that will take us all out of here, Herr Cratz?” Goebbel asked looking all around.
“I am sorry Sir but you will not be going any farther than this bunker with me.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You must be eliminated,” Cratz raised a pistol and pointed it at Goebbel.
"What are you crazy? Put the weapon down before someone gets hurt!" Goebbel yelled, with a shocked look on his face.
"I am sorry; I cannot do that, for you yourself have already sealed your own fate by knowing too much." Cratz motioned the pistol, directing Goebbel away from the burning bodies and toward a small pile of dirt only twenty feet away.
"What about all those years of service under me, do they not mean anything to you?"
"Let’s just say that you taught me that there should always be a scapegoat and no loose ends should be left behind, which could come back to haunt you at a later date."
"Loose ends; is this what you think of me? I thought we were close friends. What about all the times you spent attending my children’s birthday parties, and playing with them? What about when my wife and I attended your wedding---"
"Silence, all those times meant nothing to me; they were only stepping stones that enabled me to reach my final goal, to be the closest aide and confidant to Von Kron. It was a shame that the war ended before I could obtain that goal. But I am not worried, for I know that I will have another chance, one which may even allow me to reach higher and obtain total control." Cratz emitted a blood-curdling laughter, while his eyes danced and glimmered. His mind was entertained by what evil he would be able to unleash onto the world, in the future.
"Herr Cratz it appears I have underestimated you, but I am certain you will never reach the final goal of total power," Goebbel said, when he reached the small pile of dirt. All the while, he appeared more and more like a condemned man, heading to his death.
"This is where you are mistaken, for time changes everything." Cratz responded, as he pushed the pistol into Goebbel's ribs.
Goebbel paused and saw seven bodies lying in a straight line, within a small shallow grave in front of him. He held his breath, straining to get a closer look. His eyes focused on the bodies, and momentarily his breath seemed to disappear. Immediately, he noticed that it was his family. Such peaceful states they seemed to be in, appearing to be like lifeless mannequins. Goebbel stopped, and then he turned around to face Cratz, "Why did you have to take them? They did not know about the plan.”
"The order came down from Von Kron himself.”
“Why…they were not involved in anything…did they suffer?”
“Do not worry for none of them suffered. The cyanide was so quick acting that they never knew what was happening.”
“What kind of sick monster are you? You will never get away with this. Others will turn on you when they know what has happened.”
"But I already have my old dear friend, for all of the loose ends; have been given an invitation to the last meal. The ones who come to the meal are in for a surprise. While they are waiting to bid farewell to the Fuhrer, they will be served wine and water laced with cyanide. The double who is acting like Von Kron will then have a bullet put in his head, which will help to further confuse the enemy.” Pausing for a second a smile grew on Cratz’s face. “The ones who do not come to the last dinner will be killed by my people. The killings will be made out to appear to be motivated by revenge on the Jewish people’s part. Rather ironic, when you think about it."
"I hope someone betrays you like you have done to my family and me!"
"Oh, how touching. This will not happen for a long time, if it ever does, and you will be long since dust in the ground. Let’s end this I have other more important matters to take care of." Von Kron’s Chauffeur appeared behind Goebbel, and grabbed his arms.
Goebbel glared at Cratz with a look of shock, and then he lunged.
Cratz raised his pistol and aimed it at Goebbel's stomach, "That is far enough.” Cratz pulled a bottle from his pocket, “You can either make this an honorable death and take this bottle or I can pull this trigger and you will suffer a long painful death. The choice is truly up to you."
Goebbel halted in his tracks, then he grasped the bottle; "I will haunt you in your sleep until the day you die."
"I look forward to that thought; it will make my life more interesting." Cratz laughed while he was talking.
With a proud look on his face, Goebbel drank the bottle, "May God forgive me…" Goebbel fell to the ground, clutching his chest.
Cratz stood perfectly still and observed the body on the ground. Then he quickly rotated to face Von Kron’s Chauffeur, who was standing off to the side, "Line these bodies up. I then want Heir Goebbel's right arm to be propped up like he is saluting. Then when the rigor mortis sets in, remove the device."
Not questioning a thing, Von Kron’s chauffeur carried out his orders.
With the knowledge, that he must verify that these last few steps of the plan must be carried out right, he quickly spun around, and headed back to the burning bodies of the guests. “Nothing could be left to chance,” he thought. A smile camouflaged his face, while he thought what a shame Goebbel would never know the truth about his wife’s son, being Von Kron’s and not his.
Back to Top
The sun slowly set in the west, captivating his eyes, as he focused on his country for one last time. From deep inside, he felt a deep inner peace that he had not felt since he was a child in the protection of his mother. For a brief second, he forgot that he was running for his life; instead he felt alone in his own world, not knowing what his future would hold. His right arm shot up into a salute.
“One day! I will return to my country and regain what belongs to me!” A rage boiled up from within him. He vigorously brought in his arm into his side, forming his hand into a fist.
A shadow slithered toward him, covering him like a blanket, "My Fuhrer, we have to dive. An enemy destroyer has been reported to be close by."
"Yes, Captain. I will be right down." He grasped one last breath as a tear started to run down his face. He pivoted to head toward the entrance of the escape vessel, and vanished from the madness on earth, that the war had created.
Just before he entered the submarine, he paused, almost immediately, and heard the clanging and banging coming from the engines. His heart began to race, as he set foot onto the ladder that led into the craft. His feet pounded against the steel rungs on the ladder. With each step that he took, the light of day was slowly disappearing.
When his feet touched the solid metal floor, he felt like he was in a manmade dungeon, surrounded by artificial lights with no way out but the way he came in.
"My Fuhrer, could you and Frau Brown please follow me? I will show the both of you to your quarters."
He twisted his body around, and glanced at the Captain, who appeared to be in his late thirties. Captain Hansdorf was of medium build, with short dark naturally curly hair and a bushy brown beard, which made him look older than he actually was.
"Yes, Captain. Please lead the way."
Hansdorf swiftly turned, and preceded to walk through the bridge, on the way to the stern of the craft.
An overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia seized Von Kron’s mind, and imprisoned him. The room appeared to be barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast. He ducked his head to avoid the steel pipes, which stretched from one end of the submarine to the other.
As he walked past some of the crewmen, he saw pride on their faces. They seemed to be very proud indestructible men, who would follow him to hell and back if they had too. Even though, the cause had been unsuccessful, these men did not seem to be beaten. He thought, "If the army had been full of these types of men, we would have won the war."
Hansdorf briefly stopped at a circular doorway, and ducked his head. He then lifted his leg over the ledge way, and continued to walk through the open doorway.
The sign of confusion began to stretch across Emma’s face, “Captain, what is the purpose of this hatch way at this location?”
“This hatchway is used to seal off the bridge from this part of the submarine, if problems of a leak were to originate from here. There is also another hatchway, just on the other side of the bridge, which leads to the forward part of the submarine.”
“Have you had any problems in the past?”
“Do not worry Frau Brown, I have sailed this craft for over eight years, and I have never had any problems.”
“Captain, it is just that I have never been on a submarine in my life.”
“This craft is the safest form of escape from the enemy forces.”
An appearance of uneasiness commenced to develop on Emma’s face as she continued on; while Von Kron began to wonder how much farther it was to their quarters.
Just then Hansdorf halted, in front of a door, "Here are your quarters, my Fuhrer."
"Very good Captain, do you have an estimate time for arrival at our final destination?"
"It should be approximately forty-eight hours."
"Thank you Captain. Now leave us for a couple of hours. Then after when we our out of the Baltic Sea, you will come and give me a debriefing on the rest of the escape plan."
"Yes, my Fuhrer.” Hansdorf spun on his heels and walked back in the direction of the bridge.
Von Kron stood alone with Emma, in front of the doorway.
Emma suddenly cut through the silence, "Even though, the Captain has assured me that this craft is quite safe to escape in. I still find myself questioning, if the captain is right?"
He gently grabbed Emma's hand, "Do not worry. This is a very safe route, which we are taking,"
"What about the exit from the Baltic Sea, is it not mined by the allied forces?"
"Let's just say, that we have managed to obtain details on a route that will safely lead us out of the Baltic Sea and into the North Sea, thanks to a highly placed spy in the British Navy."
With his mind wanting to relax, he entered the room and saw that there was a bed against the far wall; a desk at the head of the bed, and above the desk was a picture of himself.
"These quarters seem to be very cramped but think of it as temporary for now."
"At least we are still alive and have a second chance."
"How right you are.” Gently he held her hand, and gazed into her eyes, "Now, we can start a new life with only a glorious end in sight; a chance that will give our love time to blossom, with the new freedom and adventure, that we will experience together hand in hand."
A smile covered Emma’s face, as she slowly lied down on the bed.
He watched her and then lied down next to her, putting his arms around her. He held her close to his side; a constant thought kept running through his mind that Emma was the only one who had not yet turned on him. His eyes became too heavy to keep open, and he began to drift off to sleep. He began to dream of the new promise land that awaited him at the end of this escape route.
A low knocking noise faintly pierced the darkness, pulling him out of a light sleep. For a brief second, he was disoriented, not remembering where he was. Then another knock echoed, through the darkness. He slowly rose out of bed, and tried not to wake Emma up. His feet gently touched the floor, and he whispered softy, "Who is it?"
"My Fuhrer, it is Captain Hansdorf. It is time for the debriefing that you requested earlier."
"I will be right there," slowly he tried to rise out of the bed. Then he quietly walked through the darkness of the room, and felt for the door.
As his hands felt the door, he snapped it open, and quickly exited the room. Then with one motion, he quietly shut the door behind himself.
"My Fuhrer, is everything okay?"
"Yes, I just did not wish to wake up Frau Brown."
"Shall we go to the debriefing room?" the Captain quickly moved past him, and headed toward the bridge.
With each step that he took, he felt fully recharged after his power nap. He thought to himself, “His escape route so far had seemed to be too easy.” He found himself, surveying the submarine, immediately; he was impressed by how the crew had utilized every inch of space, being that it was so tightly confined within this craft.
The captain halted at a doorway just before the bridge. After a brief pause, Hansdorf pushed a curtain aside and without stopping he entered into a room.
Von Kron followed behind the captain and the second he entered the room, he felt his eyes being drawn towards a bed that was folded up against the far wall. Then right in the middle of the room was a table, which was encircled by chairs. On top of the table he noticed that there were some papers, which were scattered all about. He strained to see what the papers were; they seemed to be maps, while the rest of the room seemed very sparse.
Hansdorf stood in front of the table and gazed at Von Kron, "My Fuhrer, if you will have a seat, I will begin the debriefing."
He headed toward the table and sat down, knowing that soon he would know the rest of the plan.
Hansdorf paused, and leaned over the table. He began to point at a map, "With the information that we have been supplied with before we departed Straland, we have managed not only to avoid half the British fleet, but also a wide area of the minefield, which was set up at the entrance of the North Sea." Hansdorf paused and began to guide his finger from the Baltic Sea into the North Sea, "What we are planning to do is to follow up the Norwegian coastline. Then when we are halfway up, we will cut out to the middle of the North Sea. At a designated spot, we will either surface or raise our snorkel head, which will allow us a chance to recharge our batteries. This should take about four to five hours and we will be finished at 0400 hrs," Hansdorf glanced up from the maps, and looked towards Von Kron.
With his eyes fixed on the maps, Von Kron said, "So far it seems quite intriguing, please continue."
Hansdorf continued, "When we have fully recharged our batteries, we will continue on with the mission by delivering you and Frau Brown to Northern Ireland. After the designated time, we will be back to pick you both up, and deliver you both to your final destination. We have already set up communication with the IRA, who will be your contact in Northern Ireland, and they are expecting you in two days from now, just before sunrise.” For a fraction of a second there was silence, then Hansdorf continued, “When we reach Northern Ireland, we will surface about 600 yards off shore, and shuttle both of you to shore."
"I am quite impressed by your plans. The enemy will not even bother to look in their own backyard. However what happens if something goes wrong? Do you have a backup plan? If so what is it?"
"Our back up plan is to hide you in our secret submarine base, which is located on the Norwegian coastline. This choice will be a little more dangerous for all of us, with all the enemies’ destroyers in the North Sea; we will be forced to stay a little longer at this location."
"What about our paperwork and passports?"
"All of your paperwork and passports are being held at your final destination."
Von Kron abruptly rose to his feet, "I see all the details have been taken care of, so I will be returning to my quarters."
A smile spread across his face, and he turned on his heels to head back to his quarters. With each step he took, he kept thinking about the escape route over and over again. While he dug his heels into the steel floor, and walked with a sense of pride, he finally saw victory, rising out of the ashes of defeat.
CHAPTER 4
THE DECEPTION CONTINUESThe room shook violently, pulling him from a deep sleep, launching him out of bed and onto the cold dark unfriendly floor. He looked around in the darkness, and again the room jerked roughly, "My god! Is this the way I'm going to die?" he thought.
"What is happening?" Emma screamed.
He used all of his inner strength, and grasped a hold of the head of the bed to brace his body, while he pulled himself from the floor. "I think that we have just hit a little turbulence. Why don't you go back to sleep and I will see what is happening."
"Are you sure that it is only turbulence?"
"Yes, I am sure. There is no possible way that the enemy knows we are here."
Thoughts of terror began to fill his mind, while he used his fingers as his eyes, and nervously felt around in the darkness for the door.
He touched what he thought was the wall, and moved along it. Again the room lurched, sending him back to the cold metal floor.
"Please do not leave me alone!"
He quickly jumped to his feet, "My darling relax, I am just going to the bridge to see what is happening."
His mind searched for a possible explanation, as he touched what he thought was the door, and opened it. A low glare of red light came from the hallway, and momentarily blinded him. A sensation started to hit him, that he had been sealed in a death trap far beneath the ocean waves, with no possibility of escape.
"Wait here, I will be back shortly," Von Kron said, stepping into the poorly lit alleyway.
He strained his eyes, and tried to see through the dark red glow, which was coming down the alleyway from the bridge. A feeling of desertion began to eat away at him. Instantly, he thought that the crew had scuttled the submarine, and sent not only him but also Frau Brown to their watery graves. He slowly began the long hard walk down the alleyway to the bridge, while a nagging feeling commenced to rise from deep within him. With each step he took, the submarine shook harshly. He wished that he had never set foot on this man made coffin.
When he finally reached the bridge, he held his breath and slowly surveyed the room for any sign of life.
From out of nowhere movement appeared, just in front of him. He stood his ground, while an image started to move toward him.
"My Fuhrer, are you and Frau Brown okay?" Hansdorf asked.
"Yes."
Again the submarine shook violently, and Von Kron barely managed to hold on, as he grasped a pipe that was just above him, with a deadly grip, "What is happening?" He braced himself to keep from falling against the cold steel wall.
"We’re under attack by a British destroyer," the Captain whispered, "We are trying to wait out the enemy destroyer, hoping it will disappear."
"Attack…I was assured that there would be no enemy destroyers in this location."
"I believe this enemy ship has been following us for approximately an hour."
"Following us…so it appears that our spy in the British Navy may could have set a trap for us. What has happened to the men?"
"We have experienced heavy losses in the forward torpedo rooms and in the forward crew quarters. Over half of the crew is dead."
Von Kron stood there petrified, while every muscle in his body tightened up and refused to allow him to move an inch. With each breath he took, his face turned whiter and whiter, while he realized that some of his worst thoughts had come true.
“We have been forced to seal off the forward compartments from the rest of the submarine. Because of this we will only be able to stay under the water, for no longer than an hour or maybe two tops, before our air will run out."
"Is there any way that we could out maneuver or out run this enemy battleship?"
"No my Fuhrer, the first depth charge that hit us damaged our engines and steering. Now we only have half the speed and maneuverability that we normally have."
He realized that capture was not an exception or a possibility for him in anyway. For, if he were captured, he would be paraded around like a caged animal trophy, as the whole world gawked at him. He had to come up with a card to play, but what was it? His mind slowly started to change gears. Then a smile suddenly crept across his face, "Is there any way for you to discharge a large scale of oil and other debris?"
"Yes."
"Good, if everything goes as plan, it will fool the enemy destroyer into believing that they have sunk us."
Seconds passed by and quickly turned into minutes, sealing their fate of running out of air more and more. While the submarine lay dead in its tracks, suffering a violent shake from time to time. Von Kron began to question, how much more this craft could take, before it would be too late. Each new explosion seemed to test the submarine farther and farther, stretching its limits way beyond its designs. Convinced that this could not continue at this pace, he wondered what was taking so long. Why was the enemy not falling for it?
Just as fast as the attack had begun, it was over. Like a mouse hiding from a cat, he wondered what the next action would be, "Captain take the submarine slowly up to within periscope depth. Then I want you to see what is happening."
Hansdorf turned, obeying Von Kron’s order without query.
After a few seconds, metal began to rub against metal, while the submarine began to strain as it struggled to pull itself to within periscope depth. With each foot the submarine drew closer. It seemed to raise the pressure against the sides of the submarine more and more. He glanced at a joint that was just across from him, and prayed that the rivets would hold a little while longer.
Once they reached periscope depth, Hansdorf raised the periscope and took a look.
Minutes passed, while Hansdorf gazed at the surface. Then slowly he lowered the periscope, with a look of confusion on his face.
"Well Captain, tell me what is happening!"
"The enemy is just sitting there waiting, bobbing up and down in the sea at a not too far away distance."
A question mark began to cover Von Kron’s face, "Why didn’t they fall for our bait?"
"I have no idea, my Fuhrer."
Conscious that they were quickly running out of air, he thought, “How much longer before the enemy destroyer bought the deception and disappeared.”
Each passing second caused the air to become thicker and thicker, making every breath that he took dig into his throat. Still the enemy destroyer stayed put.
When it seemed like their fate was being slowly sealed, the sudden sound of a motor overhead shot to life and started to grow fainter, as it slowly moved away.
Von Kron glanced at the Captain, "Take another look to see if the destroyer has left our location."
The second Hansdorf gazed through the periscope, a grin crawled across his face, "My Fuhrer, the enemy destroyer is pulling away."
"How long before we will be able to surface?" Von Kron asked, in between the gasping for air.
"It should be shortly, if the destroyer keeps up its present speed."
He began to wonder how hard it was for Emma back in the room.
Out of the darkness, he heard a female choking for air, coming from behind him, "My darling is that you?"
"Yes, what is going on?" Emma asked, in between the coughing and choking.
"Come over here and stand next to me. We have just experienced an attack by a British battle ship."
"Attack by the British…how did they find us? How badly are we damaged? --"
The unexpected wailing of sirens snatched Von Kron’s attention back to the submarine, "Captain, what is happening?"
"We have taken on too much water in the forward compartment and we are having difficulty surfacing."
“How far are we from our secret base?”
“It is approximately a mile up the coast.”
“Is there any way this craft could make it to the base?”
“My Fuhrer, with our reduced speed and maneuverability, there is very slim chance of making it to the base.”
"Could we surface high enough to release a life boat?"
"We should be able to surface, although, the water is so cold that no one will be able to survive more than fifteen minutes in the water, if they were to fall in."
"How far are we from land?"
"We are only six hundred yards from land."
With each second that passed, the sounds of sirens grew louder and louder, as they reached an unbearable deafening level, causing panic to break out amongst the remaining crew.
"I am ordering you to surface immediately and release a life boat"
Again Hansdorf turned and obeyed Von Kron’s order without question.
Each second dragged on longer and longer, as the submarine rose just that last few feet.
Hansdorf’s voice cut through the silence, "My Fuhrer, all of my men are ready to go. They will go first to secure the raft. Then you and Frau Brown can follow. My second in command, Lieutenant Regensburg will lead you to our secret base."
"Very good captain," Von Kron smiled, knowing that he would live to see another day.
Without warning, four men bolted past Von Kron, and headed up the ladder. Water began to pour in from the escape hatch, large amounts at first, then trickling down to nothing.
Seconds passed, then yelling could be heard, "My Fuhrer, come quick."
Von Kron, having no time to spare, proceeded up the ladder, which led out of the dungeon. With each rung he climbed on the ladder, he felt his feet hitting metal, as he gradually commenced to draw in fresh breaths of air. Shivers of freedoms started to run up and down his spine, while a thought ran through his mind, “Victory was waiting just around the corner and within his reach.”
The second, Von Kron exposed his head to the harsh weather outside of the submarine, an ice cold wave of seawater splashed into his face. With every muscle in his body not wanting to go any further, he struggled to rise out of the hatch. Another wave crashed into the submarine, and sent him slamming into the metal railing. He barely held on with a tight grip. As he realized that if he were to let go of the railing, he would be pushed off the submarine and into the water.
Then as another wave slapped into the submarine, it sent showers of icy water all over him, causing his exposed flesh to slowly lose all sensation and turn numb. His knuckles started to turn pure white, as he gripped the railing and gazed at the water, which was only a few feet below the hatch.
"My Fuhrer, we do not have much time. You must jump immediately," Lieutenant Regensburg, yelled from a life raft that was being held to the side of the submarine, as the raft was being tossed against the submarine then dragged away by the fury of the ocean. Each wave seemed to make it harder and harder for the men to hold onto the rope, which was attached to the sub.
"Lieutenant the water seems to be too rough. Is it safe?""This is the only way out."
He lifted his right leg over the railing, then his other leg. All the time, he held onto the railing with all of his strength, "Lieutenant make sure the men hold the life boat as close as possible, so there will be less chance of me falling into the water."
"Trust me, my Fuhrer. Jump!"
He took a deep breath and jumped towards the raft. With a thud he landed in the middle of the raft, and let the air shoot out of his lungs.
Not even pausing, he quickly sat down and turned back toward the submarine. While the coldness from the rubber bottom of the raft ate through his pants, "Jump my darling there is nothing to worry about."
"I can't! My hands will not let go of the railing," Emma replied, while her hands gripped the railing tighter and tighter.
"Jump we do not have time to waste."
"Are you sure it is safe?"
"Yes. Emma do it now!"
With an act of her will she let go of the railing and jumped toward the raft. Von Kron sat there silently and watched her. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as each fraction of a second seemed like an eternity. He saw the look of fear and excitement on her face, while she was flying through the air toward the raft. He held his breath as she landed with a thud in the middle of the raft next to him.
Then he let his breath flow from his mouth, and gently reached out to grab Emma by the arm.
A smile covered Emma's face, as she moved toward his side.
"Lieutenant cast off!"
"Yes my Fuhrer," Regensburg replied, as he let go of the submarine and started to drive his oar into the water
With each stroke of the oars, the life raft slowly inched its way from the submarine.
The sound of metal moaning and groaning filled his ears. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the submarine, slowly disappearing under the surface.
“It is a shame that all those brave people had to die,” Emma said as she glanced up at Von Kron’s face, “If only all of us could have made it.”
“My darling just think of them as meaningless pods, which had to be sacrificed in order to help us achieve our greater goals.” He thought how thankful he was a leader, and not an ordinary soldier, like he had been so many years ago.
With one motion she turned her body back to the coastline, “It is amazing how close the land appears to be and yet it is so far away. I only hope that the enemy destroyer does not turn around and find us helplessly adrift.”
He held her tightly around her waist, shielding her from the cold salt water, “Do not worry, my darling, everything will be fine.”
Time seemed to roll by so slowly, as they battled against the sea in order to gain access to dry land, while the signs of fatigue started to take its toll on the four-crew members. With each stroke they took, gradually the speed of the oars being driven into the sea was not as hard or deep, as when they had started out. Von Kron realized that the men needed their spirits lifted and shouted, “We must not let the weakness of fatigue stop us from our greater goal. We are all of German blood and in the end Germany will win.”
Almost at once, all of the men began to drive their oars into the ocean with renewed vigor.
Each minute seemed to drag by, while they slowly came closer to the shoreline.
Regensburg jumped to his feet, and turned his attention to the sea, “My Fuhrer, there is an enemy patrol boat heading this way. We must jump into the sea and wade through the last five feet; it should not be that deep.”
In the distance, searchlights began to pierce the darkness of the night, as it appeared to be heading directly for them, as if they were using radar.
He slipped out of the raft and into the icy cold water. The icy cold seawater stabbed him like needles, as the water came up to his waist. His legs began to go numb, as he quickly tried to avoid the searchlights that came from the destroyer.
The second he hit the dry sandy beach, his feet dug into the loose sand and felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. He struggled to carry himself a little farther, while sweat poured down his face and exhaustion was setting in fast. Von Kron fought to catch his breath and knelt in the sand. Wearily he glanced back at the enemy patrol craft only to see its searchlights were still scouring the coastlines, moving up and down the beach.
He suddenly realized that they only had seconds to clear this beach. With this thought in his mind he remained perfectly still, scanning the barely visible landscape for any indication of a safe place to hide. He started to rub his hands together, and tried to get rid of the chilly shivers, which had been caused by the cold seawater. His eyes stopped, when he spotted what appeared to be a safe place to recuperate at. “Lieutenant Regensburg, take the men and the raft over the hill which is just up ahead. I then want you to secure an area where we will be able to review the route, which we will be taking to reach the base. While you are debriefing me, I want the men to bury the boat. Under no circumstances do I want any trace of us ever having been here.”
“Yes my Fuhrer, I will take care of it right away.”
Emma stood behind Von Kron with her eyes still fixed on the searchlights that were coming from the enemy patrol “Is it safe to stay on this beach, with the enemy patrol so close?”
“Do not worry about the enemy patrol vessel. It should not be coming any closer to the shoreline.”
A figure suddenly appeared on top of the hill, “My Fuhrer, come quick, it’s safe.”
With one motion, he jumped back to his feet, and briskly walked up the incline of the sandy hill. His thighs and calf muscles screamed in pain with each step. When he reached the top of the hill, his legs refused to take another step, and he slid down into a hollow, where the men were waiting, “Lieutenant, exactly where are we?”
"According to my calculation, we are a quarter of a mile north of Tremoheimsf."
"How far is the base?"
"It is about a mile up the coast. Under day time conditions, it would only take us an hour to maneuver over the rough terrain."
"How long do you think it will take us to reach the base, under these conditions of a moonless night?”
“We should be able to reach the base just before sunrise.”
“Lieutenant, how long before we are able to move out?”
“We should be able to depart in about 30 minutes.”
“Lieutenant, see if you can speed up the men. We do not have much time, and the locals will be very unfriendly toward us, if they were to spot us"
“Yes, my Fuhrer.”
Regensburg rose to his feet, and with the speed of a panther, and headed towards the other men who were busy digging in the sand with their oars.
With each passing minute, only the sound of the waves crashing the shoreline and wood being driven into the sand filled the air. A high level of suspense began to build up to a crescendo inside him. With a desire to find out what was going on, Von Kron rose to his feet and started to climb back up the hill, this time using his hands and feet to reach the top. When he reached the top again, he knelt and did not move a muscle, while he watched the actions of the enemy patrol boat that was still scanning its lights up and down the coastline. Each second seemed to drag, and he began to wonder if this craft knew that they were here. With this thought running throughout his mind, his patience grew shorter and shorter. He knew that they could not stay here much longer. Each and every second was necessary to gain freedom.
A voice suddenly cut through the air and drew Von Kron back to reality, “My Fuhrer, the boat has been buried and we have to go.”
“What about the enemy patrol boat, which is running its light up and down the coastline?”
“My Fuhrer, the enemy’s craft is reaching the bottom part of a pattern, which they follow and will soon be gone. Under no circumstances will they turn around and search the part of the beach that we are going to be using.”
“Well then Lieutenant, lead on.”
“Yes my Fuhrer.” Regensburg slid down the hill and headed back toward the beach.
Von Kron waited, briefly, for all of the men to lead the way. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Emma standing still and shaking, “My darling is everything okay?"
"Yes.”
He gently held her hand, and guided her along.
The cold damp March air ate through their wet clothing, slowing their pace to a crawl, as they maneuvered across the sandy terrain and only the occasional rock in the darkness, “Lieutenant how close is the base?”
“We should be there in one hour tops.”
“One hour! It will be dawn in just under an hour. Is there any way we could pick up the pace?”
“My Fuhrer there is no way for us to pick up our pace, because the terrain is much harsher than I remembered it to be.”
“How many times have you been across this route?”
“Once or twice, but never during the night.”
“What! How many times have the other men been across this route?”
“Never my Fuhrer, only the Captain and I are aware of how to enter the base from land.”
He clenched his fist and shook his head, as he fought to hold back the words from his mouth. He felt trapped in an unknown world, where the only way out seemed to be eluding him. While the pounding of the waves from the North Sea cut through the silence and the minutes slowly passed by with no sign of the base in sight, it seemed that each footstep that he took pulled him farther from safety and closer to capture. With this thought entering his mind he watched, the morning sun lazily showing its face, exposing the harsh countryside that lay all around them. Von Kron stood on the shore, with only the sea as an escape on one side, and hills with sand and rocks on the other side. He realized that he stood out like a sore thumb, while the possibility of escape seemed less and less possible as each moment passed.
“Lieutenant, how much longer?”
Regensburg halted next to a small pile of rocks only three feet in height, "My Fuhrer, we are here."
"There is nothing here but water, sand, and rocks." He raised his eyebrows and a sense of wonderment covered his face. He watched as Regensburg reached down and pushed the bottom rock on the pile.
A shocked look turned to relief, and he felt like he was in a dream. He watched the rock pile moving aside, exposing a deep dark pit where the light of day very seldom penetrated.
Stunned by the camouflage and amazed by the secrets, which were being unfolded in front of his eyes. Von Kron immediately moved toward the hole and began to descend down a ladder, with a look of a child about to open his birthday presents. He briefly stopped and gazed at Regensburg, "The true German technology rules again.”
Not waiting for any response, he continued his descent. All the while, his hands tightly gripped the ladder like it was another part of his body, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lights. The second his vision focused, he was surprised by how far it was to the ground, with no safety net or guard railing to protect him, if he were to slip. His excitement rose within him, with every new step. For a brief second, he froze and instantly his muscles tightened up.
As the cramps began to disappear, he continued his descent, until his feet touched the solid ground. He let out a deep breath. Finally he had managed to reach the safety of the base, and overcome another obstacle, on way to his freedom from this world of madness. He glanced around and observed his surroundings. Almost immediately, he felt his eyes growing bigger with amazement. A sense of sadness briefly grabbed him, when he realized how close the submarine sailors were. But instead of being in the safety of the base, they were at the bottom of the ocean, in a watery grave.
A hand gently tapped him on his shoulder, surprising him. He slowly turned around and immediately he was faced with a ghostly vision, which made his mind think that his eyes were playing a cruel joke on him.
"My Fuhrer, if you would like, I could give you a tour of our facility."
"Captain, I thought you went down with the submarine,” Von Kron said in a shaky tone.
"We still had enough left to barely make it here. It was a tough go for a little while. But we made it."
"Where is the submarine? I did not see it, when I was climbing down the ladder."
"We have another cavern attached to this one at the far end, where all the dock work is done."
Still bewildered the Captain had survived the battle with death, "Captain, please begin the tour. I cannot wait to observe the secrets that will unfold."
"I will be honor to show you, my Fuhrer."
"When will the submarine be ready to leave?"
"It should be ready within six to seven months because of the extreme damage it has suffered."
"How are the supplies?"
"We have enough supplies to last us for a year."
The flickering of blue crystal water captured Von Kron’s attention and pulled his eyes toward a lagoon at the far end of the cavern. His eyes, instantly, saw a bridge that crossed the lagoon, and headed into another cavern.
Astonished by his surrounding, "How long did it take us to construct this facility?"
"It took our engineers two years. And not once during our construction were we ever discovered."
"Where are all of the supplies, and the quarters located at?"
"The quarters and the supplies are both located in the other cavern. This cavern is just used for the entrance from land."
"What happens if the rocks are disturbed by accident, and someone stumbles across our secret base?"
"We have foreseen that problem too. When the last man enters from above, he will install a device, which will seal the rocks in place."
As Von Kron approached the entrance to the next cavern, he glanced down at crystal clear water that was just below the bridge, “What are the chances of this facility being flooded?”
“There is no chance of that ever happening, because we have installed solid steel flood gates at the far end of the next cavern, which will be shut if the water level were to rise too high.”
He slowly set foot on the bridge, as his eyes were fascinated by the smoothness of the ceiling. Then, without warning, the lights from the next cavern appeared to be glimmering and glistening off the ceiling, while little shadows darted underneath the bridge in the water, briefly startling him. He controlled his senses and proceeded into the entrance of the next cavern, "Captain how many submarines are we able to fit in here at a time?"
"We can fit three submarines."
Still astonished by his surroundings, Von Kron found his eyes wandering past the three distinct docks, which extended fifty feet, and headed directly to the end of the cavern, which was another thousand feet. At which point, he found his eyes traveling to a flat wall, “Where is the entrance located?”
“It is underneath the far wall."
“How deep is the water in this cavern?”
“It is one hundred feet at the docks, then one hundred and fifty at the far end of the cavern.”
"What happens if an enemy submarine discovers the entrance?" Von Kron inquired, as he tried to picture the entrance.
"We have thought about that, and have designed an illusion of a false wall at the entrance."
With his eyes still trying to process all of what he was witnessing. He turned and saw a dark image of a doorway that he had overlooked, when he had walked into the cavern, "What's on the other side of the doorway?"
"That is where all the officer quarters and the storage rooms are."
"Very good captain, will you please show Frau Brown and myself to our quarters."
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