by Jerry Ahern
“Thank you, I know they hold you in high regard as well.”
Croenberg gave a slight nod of the head. “That pleases me. While our initial endeavors were... somewhat difficult, I feel we all have made progress and even could be friends.”
Sarah said nothing.
Croenberg gave a slight cough. “To the point, Mrs. Mann. I would like to place myself at your personal service. Simply put, Sarah, I feel a moral obligation to both Wolfgang and John Rourke to... to the best of my limited abilities, offer you my protection in their absence... if you will accept it.”
Sarah sat, unsure of what to say. Finally, she reached across the table and touched his arm, “Otto, I appreciate it very much. You are correct; these are difficult times for me. While my family wraps their arms around me in love, honestly, I feel as though I am alone. That is not their fault, it is mine.”
Croenberg said, sadly, “I understand being alone. I have lost everything... but there is a difference from being alone and being lonely. I am comfortable with being alone; it is simply a physical condition. Lonely, however, that is a condition of the mind and soul and trust. John Rourke told me once not to trust anybody that was not... his term was, ‘Old Blood.’ I believe I understand his meaning.”
Sarah smiled. “I have heard the term many times before.”
“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, nor do I mean anything inappropriate...” He let the term hang in the air. “I am simply offering you my friendship, my help for anything you may need. I feel that is an obligation I have to Wolfgang and John. If I had someone and I was in a similar situation, I feel they would offer the same thing to my loved ones.”
Sarah nodded. “They would, Otto. That’s just the way they are. But, you do not have anyone?”
Croenberg smiled. “No, not any longer and since that time, my life has never again presented me with that opportunity.”
Sarah said, “I’m sorry for that, Otto, you are a good man. You deserve someone that will miss you.”
Otto Croenberg smiled. “You are most gracious. Here is my card with my private number. I am sure Michael and Paul are more than competent and I mean no disrespect to either of them. Think of me as simply another alternative; another option. I am at your disposal,” he said as he stood and walked to the door.
Opening the door for him, Sarah touched his arm, lightly. He turned to look at her. “Herr Croenberg, Otto... I appreciate and accept your offer. It is the kindest thing that has happened to me in these trying days.” Croenberg smiled, then pulled himself erect, clicking his heels as if saluting.
“If you need me, I will be there for you,” he said and left.
Sarah watched him walk down the drive and climb into his car. What a strange man... what a dear, strange and lonely man, she thought and then closed the door.
Chapter Fifty-Three
The phone call came late at night; for some reason... such phone calls always do. Sarah reached for the phone on the table next to her bed. Pausing but a second, as dread chilled her heart, she said, “Hello.”
“First Lady, it is Helmut... Helmut Schmidt.”
“Yes Helmut, I recognize your voice.” Sarah closed her eyes and softly said into the phone, “Is this THAT phone call, my old friend?”
Schmidt took a deep breath. “Yes Fraulein, I am afraid it is. President Mann’s body has just been recovered and I identified him myself. It is official and I requested the privilege of notifying you myself. I hope you are with your family and do not have to be alone at this time.”
Tears filled her eyes. After several moments of silence, Schmidt said, “Mrs. Mann, are you alright?”
“I’m sorry Helmut, just adjusting... just adjusting to the news,” Sarah said. Then she shook her head and refocused. “Helmut, I appreciate it was you that called. I’m sorry for both of us. I know that Wolf considered you a very dear friend, as I do. I will expect complete details and arrangements to be forwarded to my son and he will share them with me.” Tears came again and she wiped her eyes. “Helmut, if you will pardon me. I must let the rest of my family know.”
“No pardon is necessary. Sarah, I am at your disposal. I will see you soon, I’m sure.”
Sarah broke the connection and sat on the edge of the bed, tears rolled down her face and she shook, but no sobs broke through her agony. Those would come though, she knew. Slowly, Sarah stood and turned toward the bedroom door. Annie was standing in it, her right hand clutched to her throat.
Sarah looked at her and the tears came again. “He’s gone... he is finally and officially gone.” There are times when there are no words that will help. When no gesture helps to heal. There is only silence and pain, this was such a moment.
Annie walked to her mother and wrapping her arms around her, guided her to the floor. They sat there, mother and daughter, but now the daughter was rocking her mother back and forth as sobs came, they both cried.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Michael’s office released a press statement that called for prayers for the people of New Germany and the officials who “are working tirelessly to re-establish a government after this dastardly and cowardly attack.” Two hours later, Michael himself went on television to read a message from Sarah. It said, “My dear people, today our hearts are broken and nothing will ever put them back together again. A great man is gone. He was my friend as he was yours. He was my husband, my strength, my peace and protector. Now, I ask you to do as I must. Remember him, cherish him... we have all lost much this day. Guard him until I return and then join me as we lay him in the peaceful embrace of our hearts and our country. I will see you as soon as possible.”
Before he left for New Germany, Michael Rourke was asked to make a presentation to Congress. Part of that presentation dealt with the State of the Union. “I have been asked if war approaches us again. Does the attack in New Germany, and the unrest around the world, herald more devastation? I do not know, what I do know is what John Stuart Mill said, ‘War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.’
“George MacDonald Fraser once said, ‘The two pillars of ‘political correctness’ are: a) willful ignorance, and b) a steadfast refusal to face the truth.’ I will not stand as one ‘having no chance of being free unless made so and kept so by exertions of better men than me.’ Winning or losing, I had rather stand with the man in the arena described by President Theodore Roosevelt when he wrote”:
‘It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.’
“President Roosevelt and I would not have been political allies, he was a Progressive in the truest sense of the word... and I am not. Having said that, some of his words impress me more than did some of his actions. We are tired, my fellow Americans, but again to quote Roosevelt, ‘Courage is not having the strength to go on; it is going on when you don’t have the strength.’ He declared there were all kinds of things he was afraid of at first, ranging from grizzly bears to ‘mean’ horses and gunfighters; but by acting as if he was not afraid... gradually he ceased to be afraid.”
“Throug
h his own strength and efforts, he preferred running the risk of ‘wearing out rather than rusting out.’ He said he had not led an easy life and he had never in his life envied a human being who led an easy life. But he also said he had ‘envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.’ We have difficult lives and times ahead of us. Lead yours well; you will find that, in and of itself, will be sufficient.”
The press and the public lauded it as his best speech ever.
Chapter Fifty-Five
The flight seemed to take forever. When at last they landed, Sarah walked down the steps from Michael’s plane. A band was playing a soft, funeral march. Helmut Schmidt waited at the foot of the steps. He walked to her and saluted, Sarah reached out her hand. Helmut shook it and stepped forward, he held out his arms and Sarah, with great dignity, embraced him. He escorted her to the limousine. Emma and her children sat next to Sarah and Helmut Schmidt, who insisted on holding Emma’s baby. Michael’s presidential limo had been off loaded and he, Natalia, Paul and Annie, along with their children, followed in it.
The drive to the funerary took slightly less than an hour. Black bunting was hung from windows, draped across store fronts along the way and the streets were almost empty. When they arrived, Michael took Sarah’s left arm and Helmut Schmidt positioned himself on her right; the three walked slowly, somberly inside the cathedral followed by the rest of the Rourke family.
When everyone was seated, Michael walked to the podium to give the eulogy. “Today we lay to rest a good man, a good friend, a loving husband and loving grandfather... He was the president of your country but he was much, much more to us. He loved freedom, he fought for it.
“‘For those who fought for it, freedom has a taste the protected will never know.’ This quote has been attributed to a gentleman named Willie ‘Bo’ Nelson, of Mancelona, Maine, but some say General George Patton said it and I really don’t know for sure. But I do know that Wolfgang Mann believed in it. If neither Mr. Nelson nor General Patton used it first, the author may well have been a Marine or a soldier, sailor or airman, but no one seems to know for sure.
“I’ve also heard that it dates to World War II, when it was first found on the back of a c-ration can in the Pacific theater of combat. Since then many have claimed it as their own, and have used it for different reasons. I will use it today. I know more than anything else, it was inscribed in Wolfgang’s heart.
“Today, I ask you to join me in remembering the life he lived. He lived it with honor, compassion, dignity and courage. We will all miss him, but we should be grateful that for a while, a moment in time... he graced us with his presence, motivated us with his vision, held us in his love. It will be a while before a man such as he passes this way again.”
Michael passed by the coffin on his way back to his family, laying his hand on it, he said, softly, “Goodbye my old friend. God speed.”
Soon, but not soon enough, it was over. Wolfgang Mann, President of New Germany, was laid to rest with full honors. The crowds dwindled and left, the news vans departed and soon it was just them. The security detail had strict instructions to remain vigilant but discreet.
Finally, walking back from the gravesite, Helmut Schmidt addressed the family: “He died bravely. He survived the first round of the attack at least. No one will ever know exactly when he died, but I assure you, it was both quick and merciful. We found him under a collapsed wall; we surmise he was trying to pull or drag the Vice President to safety. He still had hold of his hand. He died a hero.”
Sarah said softly, “He lived as a hero also, Helmut. You did not know him in those old days. We did. He fought...” She had a soft smile and gentle laugh. “He fought well, he loved better. He was the gentlest man I ever knew. Gentleness wrapped around the heart of a fighter.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Sarah would stay in New Germany “for awhile,” she said. Now, the rest of the Rourke family was on the way back to Hawaii. Seated in the conference room of the plane, while the kids enjoyed a movie in the back, Michael looked at his family with concern. “World events are starting to unravel and we had those sixteen years of peace before the arrival of the KI. Sixteen years during which our children were born into a world we thought had ‘grown up’ enough and we could start new lives.”
Paul said, “And they were good years, it seemed as though we had lived through the worst and all of us came through it.”
Michael nodded. “It did.”
Annie said, “This kidnapping really shook my universe Michael. Now, Dad’s missing and Wolf is gone and it seems like the world is starting to go crazy again. It almost feels like the old days.”
Michael nodded. “That’s the way it feels to me too, Sis. Do you remember when we went into our first long sleep after the Night of the War?”
“Some of it,” Annie said, thoughtfully. “But I was younger than you.”
Michael smiled. “Natalia and Paul remember it better; after all, they are the oldest.”
Natalia leaned over and playfully hit Michael’s arm. “Watch it Mr. President, remember you married an older woman.”
Paul laughed and said, “Yeah, remember to respect your elders.”
Michael grinned. “Tell me what you two remember about before the sleep.”
Paul grew serious. “They weren’t good times. They were hard and dangerous. John, Natalia and I spent a lot of time trying to find you and Annie and Sarah. When we finally did, the joy was short lived because the world was about to end.”
Natalia said, “The world was so different, we were so different...”
“Exactly,” Michael said. “Annie and I were kids; we had one chance to survive, thanks to Dad’s planning ahead. What happened when the rest of you woke up?”
Paul said, “First there was the big surprise that you and Annie had been awakened by John, you were all grown up.” He placed his hand on Annie’s knee and squeezed. “That was lucky for me.” Annie smiled.
Natalia smiled. “It was lucky for me too.” She glanced at Michael, he was looking at her.
“Me too, best thing that ever happened to me,” Michael said. Emma sat quietly; she hadn’t even been born then.
Michael continued, “Dad woke us up and trained us. Teaching us those things we would need to know. After a while, he went back to sleep and Annie and I kept practicing those skills and growing.”
Annie said, “Those were good days, lonely days... Michael. Those I remember well.”
Michael smiled. “Then there came the second sleep. Mom and Dad were hurt, and Wolfgang decided to go into the sleep with them.”
“He loved your mother even then,” Natalia said.
Michael nodded. “Second sleep... second awakening... more problems... more battles until finally it was over. We had made it. Then the sixteen years of peace. Our children were born; Emma had become part of the family.” He smiled at Emma and she smiled back.
“It has been the best time of my life,” Emma said. “Until all of this got started up again.”
Michael could see the pain in her eyes, the wondering... Would John Rourke come back to her? “That brings us to this meeting,” he said. “I worry about our kids; they have grown up in a different world than you and I did, Annie. A different world than Paul and Natalia grew up in. Now that world is starting to shift and I’m concerned about their abilities to survive in this new world.”
Paul nodded. “Frankly, Michael, I am too. We had that shoot out at my house when the Russians held me hostage and John Michael was hiding in the garage attic. Now, the kidnapping... And now Wolfgang has been murdered.” He looked at his brother-in-law, the President of America. “Okay, shoot your idea; I think I can see where this might be going.”
Michael nodded. “I think we need to focus on educating our kids, training them, preparing them. They have heard our stories, but our ‘training’ of them has been mostly camping trips. They don’t have the skills that I fear they’re going to need.”
Emma s
aid, “What kid does... if you’re correct that the threats are increasing, very few children of their ages are equipped for it.”
Michael said, “That Emma is exactly my point. We, we parents, are responsible to ensure our kids have the best chance for survival. Right now, I don’t think they do.”
Paul said, “So, what is your plan, Michael?”
“To get them that training,” Michael said. “To immerse them... safely... but immerse them in a training regimen to give them those skills, continue their education but prepare them for what COULD and probably will happen. I’m thinking Dad’s pet project is what they need.”
Natalia spoke up, “He’s talking about the John Thomas Rourke Survival Academy.”
Emma understood, she said, “During the peaceful years, John worked on the Academy. He wanted a place where a person could learn how to take care of themselves in an emergency. A place where extreme skills could be learned in a safe environment. It took him eight years to get the training curriculum set up and implemented.”
Annie said, “But what about their education, like the other things Dad taught us, such as philosophy, chemistry, mathematics and literature? He gave us an appreciation of academic as well as physical skills.”
Michael nodded. “And we need to do the same for our kids. Here’s what I’m talking about. Let’s say we call it a Prep School, part of it physical skills, woodcraft, emergency medicine, survival skills. The other part academic, soft and hard sciences, all of this leading to a college degree.”
Paul frowned. “The Academy can’t do all of that, though.”
“No, it can’t,” Michael agreed. “We divide their time between the Academy and Mid-Wake University. They alternate between both campuses, full-time... just like a college semester.”
Emma said, “Paula’s already doing part of that now. The biggest issue is when would they come home? I don’t want to send the kids off for a few years and they come back all grown up. That’s what Sarah struggled with.”
