by Alan David
‘I can’t say. It depends upon so many things. But how do you feel about getting married in these unsettled times? Do you think we should go ahead and forget about the war? Or hadn’t we better wait and see what happens? It would be dreadful for you if we married and then I was killed?’
‘Please don’t talk like that.’ She pressed her mouth against his, and Kurt crushed himself against her, kissing her as he had never kissed before. She was breathless when he finally released her, and crimson spots showed in her cheeks. Her eyes were filled with fervour. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, Kurt. I spoke to old Frau Willingen. She knows about things like that. She said you and I would marry and have lots of children and live to be very old.’
‘She says that to every girl who asks about the future,’ he protested, pulling her into his embrace, and his right hand began to stroke her back. Anna looked into his eyes, and she seemed startled by his action for he had never attempted to do more than kiss her gently before.
‘You seem so different, Kurt,’ she remarked. ‘There is a great change in you.’
‘It must be the war. There were times when I thought my last moment had come. It does something to a man, Anna.’
He drew her closer, and let the fingers of his hand brush the swell of her breasts. She tremored and pushed against him and they leaned back on the couch. Kurt could feel a slow tension seeping through his body, building up in the pit of his stomach, and he knew he wanted to take her as he had taken that Polish girl. Love did not enter into it. He loved Anna but also desired her body and, although his emotions were confused, he was determined to have her.
Silence closed in about them and reality seemed to fade into the background. Kurt held her even tighter, and her flaxen hair fell across his face. It was slightly perfumed, and aroused his senses as he eased himself against her. She stiffened, and he was fearful that she would deny him. His mouth sought hers and he tried by the sheer power of love to overwhelm her. He could feel her breasts thrusting against him through her blouse and eased sideways so that they could stretch out on the couch. He lifted his legs upon it as she rolled back into a lying position, and their bodies pressed together from head to toe. He could feel the contours of her figure against his own body, and the warmth of her flesh drew him like a magnet.
His urgency was imperative, and he began to grind against her, aware that she could feel his shape through their clothes, and Anna shook her head, breaking the pressure of his mouth against hers. He clenched his teeth, afraid that she was about to refuse him, and held her all the more tightly. But she was gasping for breath, and her hands clasped him tightly around the waist.
Kurt renewed his attack, breathing heavily, easing on to his left side to give himself room to manoeuvre. Anna said nothing, and he took her silence to be a tacit agreement to his actions. His right hand slid down to her waist then crept to her outer thigh, whispering over her silk blouse and tight skirt, and his throat constricted when his trembling fingers reached the hem of her skirt. Encountering silk stockings, he moved his hand upwards under the skirt, thrilled by the warmth and intimacy. Anna moved sharply, disappointing him for a moment, but she was merely trying to get completely upon her back, and that realisation engulfed him with the heady awareness of victory.
His fingers finally found soft, warm, smooth flesh at the top of the stockings, and he renewed his ardent kissing, overwhelming her with passion. When he reached satin and felt the lace frills on her knickers his chest tightened until he could scarcely breathe, and a pulse beat painfully in his right temple. He traced the outline of the curving leg of her undergarment, following it inwards across her groin, and suddenly she was easing up her left leg to rest her ankle upon his upper shin, opening up the whole intimate area of her body.
Sweat poured down his face and he tore his mouth away from hers to nuzzle her breasts with his chin, biting her gently through the blouse, feeling the firm flesh giving slightly as he increased his pressure. His trousers were uncomfortably tight around his throbbing body and yet he dared not move for fear of interrupting this exquisite experience. His fingers stroked back and forth under her skirt, itching to seek her out yet afraid that too bold an action would bring a swift denial from her. But he felt the mound of her womanhood, the mass of soft hair springy to his touch, and let his fingers slip downwards until he encountered a sticky patch of satin stretched over her most intimate part.
Anna moaned and thrust against his hand, taking him by surprise, for he had expected her to stop him before he went too far. But she was actually enjoying this and the knowledge almost unnerved him. He reached lower as she arched her back, pushing against his rigid fingers, and he found the cavity he sought although there was a thin covering of satin between their flesh. But he had reached the point of no return, and even if she tried to stop him now he was beyond control. He slid his hand to the side, feeling for an edge of the satin, and she raised up her body to aid him. He grasped her knickers and eased them down, kissing her violently as he did so. With a single movement he pulled her undergarment down to her knees and twitched up her skirt, while she clung to him, moaning and gasping.
Kurt raised up slowly and opened his trousers, fumbling in feverish urgency, his left arm clamped about her, holding her immobile. When he was bare and lowered himself against her so that their flesh touched he jerked convulsively, losing control of himself. He lunged passionately, tormented by lustful desire and the need for relief. Her flesh was hot against his bare thighs, and he felt as if the world had stopped spinning as he slid across her.
But she could not open her legs wide because of her restricting clothes, and he rammed against the inner flesh of her thighs while she gasped and twisted. She reached for him, trying to guide him, and suddenly he was pressing against the entrance to her personal valley. He stopped then, afraid that he would hurt her, but she clawed at his back, pulling him in hard against her.
They were both wet with desire, and Kurt felt the ring of her orifice stretching reluctantly against his increasing pressure. There was an unyielding tightness which would deny him and pain arose from the tension caused by his rigidity. His right hand was under her, stroking convulsively around her most intimate area, and the moisture which emanated between them surprised him for it had not been like this with the Polish girl.
Anna was working very slowly with her hips, and her enthusiasm was pleasant. But he was afraid to use all his strength for if he hurt her she would not do it again, and he wanted more than anything to relive this ecstatic experience. He changed position slightly and there was an immediate reaction. He slid full length into her before he could hold back, and she gasped and froze, her arms gripping him. He fought against the throbbing desire to unleash his full passion and lay still upon her, jammed inside her flesh, wondering if he had hurt her, but she made no movement and he waited, not daring to speak. The silence was intolerable, broken only by their rasping breath.
Then Anna moved slightly and he eased up, but she caught at him, preventing him from withdrawing. He waited. She began to move her hips experimentally, slowly at first then with increasing fervour. When he could endure the sweet agony no longer he plunged down upon her and she moaned. His sweat dripped upon her face and the couch rocked under his driving frenzy. His hands clutched her buttocks, and she willingly moved with him.
He closed his eyes as he hurled himself at her, and seemed to be climbing a mountain towards some unattainable peak. But suddenly he was there at the top, and a series of scalding explosions filled him. He clutched at her brutally, holding her close, driving in until it was impossible to gain further ingress. He twisted under the flail of his passion and then lay still, only his throbbing flesh pulsating as he drained himself of all desire.
They lay still for a timeless period, and Kurt had never felt so devoid of vitality. But, by degrees, his strength returned and his breathing became normal. He dared not look into her face, and she clung to him as if she would never let him go. But finally they parted
and he left her quickly to go to his room, half-ashamed and filled with misgiving.
Some time later she tapped at the door and he went to open it. She stood before him with all her clothes removed and clutched to her breast. Her face was filled with a becoming flush and her eyes gleamed.
‘Kurt, I didn’t know you felt that way. I thought you didn’t really love me. But now that you’ve proved you do let’s try it again on your bed. It should be even better up here, with no clothes on.’
Kurt gulped and swallowed the lump which rose in his throat, but took her elbow and led her into the room and across to his bed. They spent the rest of the day there, rising only when darkness approached, and Anna cooked a meal. They were sitting comfortably in front of the fire in the parlour when Aunt Gretel and Zimmermann returned.
Aunt Gretel’s face was flushed with pleasure, and Zimmermann seemed very pleased with himself. Kurt felt guilty about what had happened during Aunt Gretel’s absence, and half feared that his aunt would be able to detect something in his expression, or Anna’s, for the girl seemed to have blossomed tremendously since that morning. But Aunt Gretel was filled with thoughts only of herself, and could not wait to break the news she had to tell.
‘Kurt, Viktor and I have decided to get married on his next leave!’
‘That is great news!’ Kurt exclaimed, chuckling as he glanced at a flushed Anna. ‘It could be a double wedding, couldn’t it? Anna and I have also decided to get married on my next leave.’
Zimmermann came forward to clap Kurt on the shoulder, and Aunt Gretel fetched a bottle of wine and four glasses. They toasted each other, then began to make plans for the future. Kurt let his mind have full rein, for this was what life was all about. He dared not permit the dark thoughts growing in the background of his mind to find room in which to breed and multiply because they were so dreadful and belonged to another world. That world was still two weeks away and he wanted to forget all about it until he was forced to return to it.
But time, though eternal, was never still, and he soon discovered that one day followed another very quickly, deducting grimly from the little store which he could call his own. Two days passed before he really accepted the fact that he was back home and everything was perfect. There were long sessions of lovemaking with Anna where and whenever they could be alone, and the first week passed like a dream. But still he had a barrier of several days between him and the harsh moment of truth.
Zimmermann almost lived at the farm, and Kurt was pleased for his aunt because she deserved some happiness. But each time he saw the Captain he was reminded of what lay in the future for them. No matter what he heard on the news broadcasts, and the Führer was always making a speech these days, he sensed that there was a large-scale war ahead of them. Some dark premonition stirred within and filled his mind with foreboding. Those terrible days of action in Poland were merely a foretaste of what was to come, and he could not accept the world situation at face value. He knew in his own mind that the worst was yet to befall them.
He and Anna went for walks around the courtyard, seeing the places Kurt knew and loved so well. He placed flowers upon his mother’s grave, and thought of his father. Days slipped by like water running out of a tap, each second lengthening inexorably into a minute, an hour, another day, and he felt restless, sensed that he was trapped, a victim of his own times. Soon there was just one day left, and he went around the village with Anna, saying goodbye to all his friends and taking leave of Anna’s family. As they walked back to the farm he told himself that he had just one more night in his own bed. Then he would leave with Captain Zimmermann and they would be swallowed up again in the war.
Anna was silent for most of the day, and it was not until they had returned to the farm, where they were alone because Aunt Gretel and Zimmermann had gone to Hamburg for a last fling, that the girl broke down and began to cry. Kurt took her gently into his arms, kissing her tears away.
‘Don’t be sad, my dearest,’ he whispered, holding her close. ‘I’ll soon be coming home again. There won’t be a war, you’ll see.’
‘How can you keep saying that, knowing it not to be true?’ she demanded. ‘You’re trying to fool yourself, Kurt. Didn’t you see that picture in the newspaper yesterday, showing our aircraft attacking British warships in their naval base? That proves there is a war going on. We don’t see or hear anything of it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.’
‘But the British and the French have done nothing,’ he insisted harshly, afraid to believe anything but what he told himself. ‘It has been seven weeks since we attacked Poland, and there have been no land attacks in the west. The French still sit behind their Maginot Line, and the British are putting only a very small army into France. They won’t fight, I tell you. We are bombing the British to make them sue for peace. They declared war upon us and they will have to call it off.’
She dried her eyes, and Kurt tried to get her into a loving mood, but their good days had fled into the past and now the reality of the situation weighed all too heavily upon her. He took her home in the darkness of the late October night and kissed her at the front door. He felt like crying himself, despite his assurances to her, and she clung to him like a child. Kurt had to summon up all his strength of mind to leave her. He stood at the gate and watched her enter her home, and when the door closed behind her it seemed that a steel gate was slammed down over his heart. He went homewards in sombre mood, fighting against emotion.
Would he ever spend another fortnight such as had just fled? All he knew was that when they returned to Sennelager they would be put through some highly intensive training, and he hated that world of men, the drab way of life, the pressures of being with tough young men who seemed undeterred by the knowledge that they might be called upon to give their lives for their country. He hated the thought, and prayed that the horrible reality of a full-scale war could be averted. Even the Russians seemed to be slumbering on the Eastern Front, and that was the only hope he had to cling to; that the threat of war would pass. Early the next morning he came face to face with the stark truth. It was still dark when Zimmermann arrived in the car, and Kurt took his leave of Aunt Gretel, feeling her tears upon his cheek as he kissed her. Then he went to sit in the back of the car while Zimmermann said his goodbyes. He peered around with narrowed eyes, fighting down his fear, and looked upon the shapeless mass of the house where he had been born and raised. All he could do was hope that he would see it again, and time was his greatest enemy once more, standing between him and all he wanted.
Then Zimmermann came hurrying to the car and they departed swiftly. By the time grey light came into the sky they were beyond familiar countryside, driving towards Sennelager, and something inside Kurt seemed to shrivel and die, despite the wonderful memories he was taking with him. But memories were not sufficient to sustain a man who might soon be fighting for his life in a war he hated and did not believe in. He wanted the farm and Anna, and there was no joy in him.
Chapter Fifteen
Max Eckhardt lost count of the number of executions which took place under his command during the rest of October. They filled that first anti-tank ditch, and many more, with bodies. Life seemed to become tinged with unreality as they carried out their grim orders, and he soon realised that not only his battalion was engaged upon the programme of murder. SS detachments were busy throughout Poland.
During his off-duty moments he wondered what the future held for them. They had been trained as soldiers, and it was in that capacity he wanted to serve, but orders had to be obeyed and Captain Dantine kept him up to his work.
But SS men arrived from Germany and took over the executions. They were Reichsführer Himmler’s Action. Squads specially trained and toughened to do the murderous work as a matter of cold duty. So Eckhardt found himself relegated to commanding his men in the task of moving out of Poland some half million Jews and Slavs in order to make room for families of German origin, and, as winter advanced, slave workers were round
ed up and forced to go to Germany.
On 8 November there was a bomb outrage against the Führer which angered the entire German nation, and Max was aware that their enemies would not desist until they had been taught a bitter lesson. Fortunately, the Führer escaped harm, but people died and were injured in the Munich beer hall.
Max struggled with his impatience as the cold days passed, and then Captain Dantine summoned his officers and Max learned that they were going back to Germany, to Berlin, to undergo intensive training.
‘Leutnant Eckhardt, you are promoted to the rank of Oberleutnant and will take over as second in command of this Company,’ Dantine said, nodding as he saw pleasure showing in Eckhardt’s face. ‘You have earned that promotion. I have seldom seen such dedication to duty as you have displayed, and the Führer is proud of you. When we get to Berlin you will be one of several favoured men whom the Führer himself will decorate.’ He paused and looked around at their intent faces, his hard gaze searching expressions. ‘But we are going back to the Fatherland to train for further action.’ He held up a commanding hand as some of the officers tried to speak. ‘I have no idea what lies before us so do not ask. But there is a war going on, although our armies are at rest. The Kriegsmarine is in constant action at sea. Our U-boats are attacking British shipping. Ignore the rumours to the contrary; there is a war going on. The British will not have peace at any cost. They have refused the Führer’s overtures, and we shall be forced to teach them a lesson.’
‘When are we leaving for Berlin, sir?’ Eckhardt asked when Dantine paused for breath.
‘Orders will be coming, but I have it upon good authority that we shall be moving out by the end of the week. You live in Berlin, don’t you?’
‘It was my father’s home. I lived there, but it never seemed like home to me.’
‘We are going to a camp in Spandau Forest, on the outskirts of the city.’ Dantine eyed Eckhardt speculatively. ‘Do you know the area?’
