by CW Hawes
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Herr von Neuradt,” I said.
Karl said, “von Weidner,” while extending his hand to our companion.
“Excuse my asking, please, but are you the famous journalist Karl von Weidner?” von Neuradt asked.
“The same,” Karl replied.
Von Neuradt turned to me and said, “Then you must be the equally famous journalist Lady Drusilla Drummond Hurley-Drummond.”
“I am,” I replied.
“What an honor,” von Neuradt continued, “to be in the presence of such celebrities. Are you by chance flying to Berlin on the Deutschland?”
“We are, Herr von Neuradt,” I replied.
“What brought you to England?” Karl asked.
“I am with the Reich Foreign Ministry,” he replied. “I’m an assistant to our envoy to Her majesty’s government. There is a possibility Britain and Germany may end the Twilight War, as Mr. Churchill calls it. If so, perhaps the Americans won’t turn down our next request for helium. Did you read in the papers they did so again?”
I shook my head and Karl said no.
“The Führer hoped the new administration of President Truman would be more open than President Roosevelt’s but…,” von Neuradt shrugged. “Of course the advances of German technology have rendered our requests superfluous. We don’t need the American’s helium. Our new process to produce ultra-pure hydrogen and our newly developed sealants to prevent leakage make travel by zeppelin as safe as any helium filled ship. Access to helium now is, how do the Americans say, just good PR?”
Karl said, “Perhaps you are unaware, Herr von Neuradt, Lady Hurley-Drummond wrote a series of articles for the American press on the advances of German zeppelin technology last year. I’m surprised the German papers did not pick them up.”
I gave von Neuradt a coy smile.
He threw his head back and laughed. “And here I thought to enlighten you, when it’s Lady Hurley-Drummond who without a doubt could enlighten me! Please forgive my very obvious pride in my country.”
“No harm done, Herr von Neuradt,” I said.
He took a card out of his pocket and handed it to me. “I’d be honored if you would send me copies of your articles, Lady Hurley-Drummond.”
I took his card and put it in my purse. We were momentarily spared further conversation by our arrival at the terminal. We got out of the cab. Karl and von Neuradt vied with each other to pay the fare. I suggested we split the fare three ways.
Von Neuradt said, “You were kind enough to let me share the cab with you and gentle in pointing out to me I was being a pompous fool.” And with that he handed a sheaf of notes to the driver.
Karl bowed and said, “Thank you.”
“Very kind of you, Herr von Neuradt,” I said.
He bowed and we walked out to the gigantic zeppelin, its silver hull gleaming in the sunlight, the bold black lettering proclaiming the ship’s name and number. The D-LZ158, Deutschland. The one hundred and fifty-eighth zeppelin of the Deutsche Zeppelin-Reederei company. The red, white, and black Nazi flag standing out on the ship’s tail fins.
A steward greeted us at the bottom of the gangway and checked our names off a list he had on a clipboard. The steward gave a stiff-armed salute to von Neuradt and said, as he did so, “Heil Hitler!”
At the top of the gangway, a steward was waiting to show us to our cabins.
“A good day to you, Herr von Neuradt,” I said.
“Good day, Lady Hurley-Drummond,” he replied with a bow, “and may I have the good fortune to see you again.” To Karl he nodded his head and said, “Good day, Herr von Weidner.” Karl replied in kind.
We were shown to our cabins, which were next to each other. When the steward left, I said to Karl, “And how much did you bribe them to get this arrangement?”
He smiled. “My dearest Dru I would’ve paid all I own, but Fate spared my bankruptcy.”
I gave him a gentle shove. “You four flusher. Now I should change for dinner.”
“Of course, milady,” Karl said with a bow.
I entered my cabin. The steward had set my luggage at the foot of the bed. The cabins are small on German airships. They have bunk beds for double occupancy. There is a sink, but no lavatory. The restrooms and showers are on C deck. The beds are very comfortable. Electric lights shine through fan-shaped sconces. The mirror above the sink is large.
The larger of my two suitcases contained my dresses and I opened it first. For formal occasions I had a choice between my tan or emerald green. Both floor length, somewhat fitted, and with semi-flowing skirts. The tan has a rounded collar and long sleeves. The emerald green has a high front and no back. Why not be a bit daring? Perhaps I’ll draw the eye of an unmarried man. I love Karl. But he has been honestly clear: he will not leave his wife. Our relationship is not going to be more than what it is and the realization makes me sad.
My hairdo was holding up. I’m wearing it parted to the left of center, pulled down to curls over my ears and around the nape of my neck.
My makeup I decided to reapply. I washed my face and applied a pink ivory foundation. I then lined my upper lids with eyeliner and applied mascara to my upper lashes. I chose a light brown eye shadow and a bright red lipstick, which matched my nail color.
I put on the emerald green dress, which being backless didn’t allow me to wear a regular bra. I’ve never found men to mind this feminine dilemma. However, I did not want to go au naturelle and wore one of those new Kestos backless bras. My shoes were emerald green slippers with a slight heel. When dressed, I walked out to the promenade and then to the bar and smoking lounge. A martini and cigarette before takeoff and dinner sounded good. On entering the bar and smoking lounge I saw many others had the same idea. Herr von Neuradt was talking with two men. He saw me and motioned for me to join them. I got my martini and walked to the table.
The men stood. “Lady Hurley-Drummond,” von Neuradt said as he bowed, “may I introduce Prince Gabriel Constantinovich, who represents His Imperial Majesty Vladimir Kirillovich, Emperor and Autocrat of all the Russias, and Captain Mikhail Turbanev, formerly of the Imperial Russian army.” The men bowed and I curtsied.
The men returned to their seats and I sat at the empty chair between von Neuradt and the Prince, across from Captain Turbanev. The captain was a handsome man with black hair and dark eyes. His face had a teutonic look rather than the rounder Slavic. He was tall and trim and I guessed him to be in his late fifties, even though he looked much younger. He was clean shaven and had a dimple in his chin. He wore his hair in a short military cut and was dressed in a navy blue suit with a white shirt and burgundy tie. On the ring finger of his right hand he wore a gold band set with a ruby and an emerald on either side of a diamond.
He caught me looking at him and smiled. “Lady Hurley-Drummond, may I ask if you are the same Lady Hurley-Drummond who is the famous journalist?”
“You may,” I said, “and I am a journalist. I don’t know about admitting to being famous.”
“Such modesty. I am honored to meet you,” he replied. “I look forward to reading your articles with much enthusiasm.”
“Thank you, Captain. I’m flattered to have such an avid admirer.” I took a cigarette from my cigarette case, put it in a holder, and put the holder to my lips. The captain was there ahead of the Prince and von Neuradt with his lighter. Cigarette lit, I inhaled the smoke and exhaled it toward the ceiling.
“Thank you, Captain Turbanev. You must have been lightning on the battlefield.”
“Indeed, Lady Hurley-Drummond, on the battlefield one is quick or one is dead.” His eyes held mine and a thrill ran through me. Suddenly I felt shy and self-conscious like I did on my wedding night.
Von Neuradt spoke and broke the spell. “And what business do you have in Berlin, Lady Hurley-Drummond, if I may ask?”
I exhaled smoke. “Actually, Mr. Weidner and I are going on to Moscow. We are on assignment.”
The Prince and Captain Turba
nev looked at each other. But before I could question them a steward announced all cigars, cigarettes, and pipes had to be extinguished and the smoking lounge vacated because the Deutschland was ready to take off. I took one last drag on my cigarette, extinguished it in the ash tray, and removed the remaining portion from my cigarette holder. I finished off my martini and exited with my fellow passengers. In the promenade, my three new friends joined me at the windows.
“Lady Hurley-Drummond,” the Captain began, “if I may be so bold as to ask, what is your assignment in Moscow?”
“It’s not a secret,” I replied, “we are going to report on Stalin’s death and who his successor might be.”
“There are many of us who are glad he is dead,” the Captain said.
Von Neuradt added, “But he was useful in keeping peace in Europe. Although one can never truly trust a Communist.”
“Precisely, Monsieur von Neuradt,” the Prince said. “A change from the Communists would be even better for all concerned.”
A thought, a niggle really, bubbled up. I asked, “Your Highness, isn’t there a Czarist government in exile?”
“There is, Lady Hurley-Drummond,” he replied. “His Majesty, Vladimir the fourth, has a fully functioning government and is ready to assume his rightful place as leader of the Russian peoples in Moscow.”
“But such a resumption of the monarchy is not very likely, is it?” I asked.
The three men looked at each other. Their faces conducting a silent debate. My guess being if they were going to let me in on their little secret.
“There you are.”
I turned to see Karl approaching.
Von Neuradt’s face was beaming. “Ah, we are honored by not one, but both of the preeminent journalists of our day.” Von Neuradt extended his hand, which Karl took. The diplomat then introduced him to the two Russians.
The Prince spoke. “So, Monsieur Weidner and Lady Hurley-Drummond are going to tell the world of the horrors of the Communist regime and perhaps also of his majesty’s desire to end the Communist bloodletting and bring peace to the Russian peoples?”
I said, “Didn’t Czar Nicholas abdicate in favor of his brother and the brother pass imperial authority to the Provisional Government, which terminated the monarchy and established a republic?”
“All of that was illegal,” the Prince replied.
“You see, Lady Hurley-Drummond,” Captain Turbanev began, “Czar Nicholas could not have included his son in his own abdication unless he himself declared the monarchy at an end, which he did not do. Therefore Grand Duke Michael could not have turned over governmental authority to the Provisional Government because he did not legally possess the authority to give.”
“I see,” I said. “From your perspective, then, the Communists are the interlopers.”
“Precisely,” Captain Turbanev said, his face beaming.
“Isn’t all this moot?” Karl asked.
A bustle of activity and the ground began falling away. The Deutschland was ascending into the evening sky. Our trip to Berlin had begun. We looked out the windows and waved to the people below. Up we floated and then the distant thrumming of the engines began.
Von Neuradt leaned over and said in a subdued voice, “Lady Hurley-Drummond, we are honored to have on the Deutschland the famous swing band ‘The Templins’ and the very famous singer, Mimi Thoma. They will provide our entertainment tonight. Perhaps you will do me the honor of dancing with me.”
“My dear Herr von Neuradt, I didn’t know the German government endorsed swing.”
“The music of the German people is of course the most edifying of musical idioms, however Der Führer also recognizes the other peoples of the world may not share the same sentiments. At least not yet.”
“It is most unfortunate is it not, Herr von Neuradt, that not all the world leaders are as enlightened as Der Führer.”
“Yes. It is most unfortunate.”
A steward came through and announced the bar and smoking lounge would open in twenty minutes and dinner would be served in fifty.
“Lady Hurley-Drummond, would you and Monsieur Weidner join the prince and I for dinner?” Captain Turbanev asked. The way he looked at me, I felt those dark eyes of his upon me as though he was caressing me with them. A thrill sent goosebumps over my skin.
“I would love to accept for Karl and I,” I said.
Karl added, “Yes, we’d be delighted.”
“Then it is settled,” the Captain said, “and of course you are invited, too, Neuradt.”
“Danke,” the German replied.
“If you will excuse me,” I said, “but I must finish my overdue dispatch to Mr. Hall or I will be in very hot water with my boss.”
The Prince, von Neuradt, and Karl gave me a half bow, but the Captain bowed fully and swept up my hand to kiss the back of it. “Enchante,” he murmured. And when he stood up, those black eyes of his were fingers touching me, caressing me, making love to me. I swallowed, smiled with difficulty, and fairly fled to my cabin. Once inside, I stood, my back against the door, my chest heaving.
“Get a hold of yourself, Dru,” I said. I placed my hand on my breast in a vain attempt to still my rapidly beating heart. Then taking a deep breath, I hauled out my venerable Hermes 2000, and began pounding away on the keys. I finished the draft in time to allow me a martini before supper. One more look in the mirror, a refresh of Chanel No.5, and I returned to the lounge with my dispatch in hand. Once I found a steward and asked him to take the paper I handed him to the radio officer, I relaxed.
“Hopefully you can now enjoy the evening,” I told myself.
“Ah, Lady Hurley-Drummond, you’ve returned,” von Neuradt said.
I got the distinct impression he’d been waiting for me. “I have,” I said.
“A cocktail before supper?” he asked. “I believe the others have preceded us.”
“A lovely idea, Herr von Neuradt,” I said.
I allowed him to take my arm and we walked to the bar and smoking lounge. I ordered a martini, von Neuradt, a kirschwasser cocktail. With refreshments in hand we joined the others. Once again Captain Turbanev won the right to light my cigarette due to his speed.
“Thank you, Captain. If you weren’t around, I don’t know what a girl would do to get her cigarette lit.”
“But you are being unfair, Lady Hurley-Drummond,” the Prince protested. “The good Captain here is no more gallant than the rest of us gentlemen. He is only faster.”
“And speed isn’t everything, my lady,” von Neuradt said. “The lack thereof is sometimes a decided advantage. Much pleasure can come from a slower approach.”
“Don’t worry Monsieur von Neuradt,” the Captain said, “I know when one should be fast and when one needs to be slow. I’m a survivor of battle because I was adaptable to the needs of the situation.”
I couldn’t help but feel an inner thrill from the attention I was receiving. Especially the attention paid to me by the handsome Captain Turbanev. Any girl would. Herr von Neuradt wasn’t a toad either. And if the Captain was not present, I would have been pleased with the diplomat’s attention. Even if he is a Nazi. After all when one beds a man, his politics is of little consequence. It’s when one gets married that it becomes of paramount importance.
“I couldn’t agree with you more, Captain,” Karl said. “It is the same with being a journalist. You want to be fast getting to the interview and you want to take your time once you’re there.”
“You see, Gentlemen and Lady, the world’s preeminent male journalist agrees with me,” the Captain said, favoring me with a knowing smile on the word “male,” “What more can be said on the subject?”
The dinner gong sounded. I took one last drag on my cigarette and blew the smoke to the ceiling. I finished my martini and, to keep the competitive spirit alive, I walked with Karl to the dining room.
On the way there, he whispered, “You have certainly captured the interests of the Russians. Particularly that of Turb
anev. And von Neuradt follows you like a puppy dog.”
I whispered back, “Are you feeling jealous?”
“Should I be?”
“I do believe they are single and available.”
“I see.”
Part of me hated the insinuation concerning the sore spot in our relationship and part of me took a wicked delight in making it. And because Karl had no comeback, it was clear to me he was realizing how vulnerable he was to the competition. Too long Karl has taken our situation for granted, assuming I will always be available. Yes, he is my soulmate. He knows it, how can he not? Yet a woman cannot allow herself to not be pursued. To do so is to destroy the relationship she needs. I know this is the modern era and women are independent. But what woman’s magazine flaunts independence? They are all about getting a man and marriage! Men don’t need us, but we do need them. So we must make sure we are pursued and occasionally let ourselves be caught. For while the chase is exhilarating one must occasionally catch the prey or the hunt becomes boring.
We entered the dining lounge on A deck and our party made its way to a table for six. I sat on one side with Karl on my right and von Neuradt on my left. Across from me sat the Prince, across from von Neuradt sat Captain Turbanev, and the seat across from Karl was vacant. But just before our soup was served a gentleman asked if he might join us. From his accent, I guessed him to be American.
Prince Constantinovich said, “By all means join us.” The Prince stood and we all followed. The Prince introduced himself.
The man said, “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m Christopher Andrew Somers.”
Prince Constantinovich then went around the table announcing our names to the newcomer. After which, we sat and the steward served our soup. Potato with sausage.
Mr. Somers cut a dashing figure in his midnight blue tuxedo and carefully groomed hair. I asked him where he was from.
“I’m from New York, Lady Hurley-Drummond. I work for Graham-Paige Motors, makers of the finest car in the United States and probably the world. I must say, Ma’am, you’d look good behind the wheel of a brand new Graham Hollywood.”
“Perhaps when I’m back in America you might provide me with the opportunity,” I replied.
