He fell back onto the chair, which protested with a monstrous creak like a tree branch splitting, and resumed perusing his papers as if nothing had happened, dismissing them completely.
Elsie appeared frozen in place, her mouth open and a look of shocked wonder on her pale face. The glistening blob of saliva began slowly to slide down a tress of her hair, leaving a shining trail behind it.
He looked back up, face thunderous. “What the hell are you doing still here? Are you bloody deaf? Dismissed! DISMISSED! GET OUT!” he bawled.
Quickly taking the dazed girl’s elbow, Molly guided her swiftly from the room. At the door she risked a quick glance back, and caught a broad wink and a cheery thumbs-up from a smirking and very smug looking James.
What the...? The wily old rascal! What a performance! Absolutely brilliant.
Outside, Elsie took a deep breath, and then another. Turning to Molly, stunned blue eyes wide, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out and she closed it again with a plopping sound.
Molly stared at her sternly. “Well, there you go, Elsie. The CO’s given you one last chance for redemption. It’s much more than I would have given you, and far more than you deserve. Are you up to it? Or ought I to go back in and ask the CO for your discharge papers instead?”
With an effort, Elsie squared her shoulders and breathed out hard. Her world had changed, turned upside down in just the matter of a few seconds.
“No, Ma’am, I can’t let the CO down. I’m going to do my best for him. He’s relying on me, and I’ll not let him down.”
She was still trembling, and took another breath, “Corporal Dyer! My Mam won’t believe it!” Tears glittered bright but she beamed at Molly, “Bloody Hell! I still can’t believe it!” Elsie looked contrite, “Ooh. Pardon me, Ma’am.”
Don’t worry, I can’t bloody believe it either....
“When you get back, Elsie, come and see me and we’ll get your stripes sorted out.”
“Back, Ma’am, get back from where?” Elsie’s smile slipped and she looked at Molly uncertainly. The blob of saliva, having gracefully slid down one strand of hair, now dropped to gently settle onto the girl’s shoulder, and the fabric of her tunic slowly began to absorb it.
“Why, when you return from the trip with your young man, of course. Olaf, wasn’t it?”
The new young Corporal made a rude noise, and wiped her eyes roughly. “He’ll have to wait! I can’t go out now! I’ve got to sort out my new duties, report to the Catering Officer. No time like the present! We’ll have chips tonight! A little bit overdone!”
Elsie wiped her face absent-mindedly, smearing his saliva around her face, then looked down at her open palms, “Corporal. Corporal Elsie Dyer.” She said it to herself in wonder, still not quite trusting it was true. “Ma’am, please excuse me, I’d best get started.”
Elsie smiled hesitantly, shyly, “And thank you, Ma’am. For your support and your patience. For everything. I’ll make you proud, honest.”
“Go on, then.” Molly nodded curtly, and watched the girl bustle smartly away, and smiled secretly to herself.
Perhaps James had found the answer after all.
Might it work? Could the inveterate offender Jankarella be transformed into an efficient young NCO? Was it even possible?
Only time would tell, but so far, it was looking good.
Chapter 33
Keeping one eye on the sleeping girl, Bruno surreptitiously picked up the medal from the dresser, and placed it onto his palm, enjoying the weight of it, the lines and points of its shape, the coolness of the metal.
He held his dream lovingly.
The Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross. The thing he had coveted and yearned for so very long. His at long last.
The black, white and red ribbon hanging down, a black cross metal pattee with silvered edges and a swastika in the centre.
A medal he’d dreamed of for endless months, and which had finally been placed around his neck by the Fuhrer himself in Berlin, that very morning.
Anja had been overwhelmed by the experience, and she’d hung from his arm, mute and awed by their company, yet shyly basking in his reflected glory.
The day had been a dizzying whirlwind of meetings and parties, a day of unimaginable delights, but he’d sighed with gladness and more than a little relief when the kubelwagen had finally stopped outside the hotel arranged and paid for by the Wehrmacht.
And oh, how he’d enjoyed the sight reflected in the great mirror on the ground floor of their hotel!
The image was still in his mind’s eye, the handsome young Luftwaffe pilot in his perfectly-tailored blue uniform, chest bedecked with decorations, the prized Ritterkreuz at his neck; and on his arm the beautiful dark-haired girl, trim and shapely in her uniform.
A photographer had taken their picture (just one of many) and one of Der Fuhrer’s aides promised that their picture would be in all the newspapers and on the cover of Signal.
The brave and honourable Warrior Knight of the Luftwaffe bedecked in his medals, and his beautiful Lady, delectable and brave in her uniform. It was the sort of story that the masses lapped up.
Personally he thought he’d looked a little dull in the picture, but Anja had loved it.
The girl now lay sleeping, her back towards him, exhausted by the excitement of their day as new members of the elite of Berlin, and by the frenzied lovemaking that had followed their arrival at the hotel.
The thin sheet had slipped down to expose her smooth back, slim waist, and the rounded curve of her firm buttocks, a sheen of sweat making her skin glow golden and glisten delightfully in the soft light.
His gaze lingered pleasurably for a moment over the cleft between her magnificent buttocks, knowing that after such a hectic day he should be trying to sleep too.
But the adrenaline still coursing powerfully through him meant that he just couldn’t sleep.
The sweet scented fragrance of her body seemed to blend perfectly with the new fresh fabric smell of the medal ribbon, and he breathed in appreciatively. They were both all he could ever want, and he was content.
I am complete. I thought it was all that I wanted, yet now that I actually have The Medal, I finally realise that it isn’t enough. I need my Anja, too. Even more than my Knight’s Cross. So much more. I know that now. She’s the future, my true happiness.
It is the medal that will make me known amongst my friends and enemies alike, it will allow me a kind of immortality, and yet it is the girl nestling in my heart that is my life’s fulfilment.
Bruno leaned over to the ice bucket, carefully removing the bottle of champagne (from a case courtesy of Fat Hermann) as quietly as possible and poured himself a measure, ice water dripping onto his toes.
It was for Rudi and Mouse as much as it was for himself. He wondered what they were doing at this moment.
Like Bruno, they too had been recognised for their part, each receiving a promotion and a week’s leave. Rudi looking relieved when he heard, but Mouse’s face had cracked into a huge grin as he thought of a week in the fleshpots of his hometown.
Bruno took an appreciative sip of the chilled champagne, icy bubbles fizzing merrily in his mouth and up his nose, and then carefully placed his prized decoration back onto the dresser.
He could not remember a time in which he’d felt happier.
“I’ve got something equally shiny to show you, Herr Leutnant.”
Startled, Bruno turned to face Anja, her hair mussed and beautiful eyes bright with mischief.
Had she seen him fondling his medal? She must think him terribly conceited.
Bruno realised that he didn’t much care for the fact that she might think him vain. Feeling rather annoyed with himself and very self-conscious, he saluted her gallantly with his glass of champagne.
“I thought you wouldn’t wake until morning, my dearest. You were dead to the world.”
He grimaced inwardly at the poor choice of words. What an awful expression! Idiot!
&nbs
p; “I was completely exhausted, and just needed a little sleep, that’s all, my darling.”
The girl pushed back her hair and sat up, full breasts dancing delightfully. His heart tripped dizzily at the sight. “It’s been the most amazing day of my life, and after your performance in bed, I think I just passed out.”
The warmth in Anja’s eyes matched her gentle smile, “Thank you, dearest Bruno, for sharing such a wonderful experience with me. It’s been a wonderful day, but being with you is what made it so special.”
Who else could have been with him on this wonderful day? Father was in North Africa with his beloved Panzers. And, being the dutiful wife that she was, Mutti was languishing in the senior officer’s quarters in Sousse so that she could be close to her beloved husband.
How lucky I am, to have such a beautiful girl with me. Today he’d been swamped in clamouring crowds of Blitzmadel, but there was only one girl he looked to, the one who really mattered.
He smiled back at her easily, and thought of the little box tucked carefully into his tunic breast pocket. Seeing the simple happiness on her face now made him want to get it and ask her, but he stopped himself. It could wait until tomorrow.
They were planning to have a peaceful day visiting the museums on the Museum Island in the River Spree, and he would ask her by the riverbank, or some other suitably romantic spot. It would have to be special, because the girl herself was, immeasurably so.
Perhaps he ought to take her to the Tiergarten?
I really ought to show her Berlin by night. “Would you like to go out for dinner, my darling?”
Anja shook her head. “No, Bruno. I was talking to a lady at the presentation, the wife of some Party official. I think she thought she was more powerful than he was, quite awed by herself. Awful old hag. Had breath like a rotten egg. Made me feel like throwing up. Anyway, she said to me that there’s been a series of murders in Berlin. Women going home from work on their own in the evenings on the S-Bahn. I wouldn’t like to go out tonight.” She shivered and hugged herself tightly.
“Besides the RAF might raid. We’re near the centre of the city so we should be safe. They’ll find it hard to get anywhere near us.”
Bruno had seen the day’s headlines earlier, screaming about the latest victim of the mysterious killer stalking his solitary female prey on the rail system that served the capital.
He sat down next to her on the soft mattress, feeling the heat of her body, and passed the icy flute of champagne to her.
“Oh, but that’s horrible, liebling! I hope they catch the swine. Not to worry, my love, we’ll ask for room service. Stay in here with me, nice and warm. Best place to be, actually, I don’t believe there’s a more handsome man in the whole of Berlin than the one you’re with.”
She laughed and put one arm around his waist. The scent of her body filled his nostrils and he felt a fierce surge of lust flare through the tip of his penis, up through his testicles, along his spine and explode into his brain. He yearned for her hand to hold him there again.
“Well, I must be really fortunate to be here with you, then. Room service would be perfect. I don’t feel all that hungry at the moment, though, my darling. Perhaps a little later?”
Bruno slid one hand along her inner thigh, caressing her velvety skin with pleasure, and then bent forward to kiss her lightly on the nose, “Really? Is that so, young lady? Then why don’t I do you a kindness and help you to work up an appetite?”
They had almost a week to spend together. A week in which he could enjoy a time without war and killing and danger.
No more talking.
Bruno’s lips found hers; Anja hungrily drawing him down onto and into her, and everything else was forgotten as they fell back onto the bed, the last droplets of chilled champagne spilling from the overturned crystal flute onto the splendid carpet.
The war could wait.
She was now.
Chapter 34
At that very same moment, five hundred and eighty miles to the west, a bored Rose looked out to starboard at the distant darkened sprawl of London on the horizon.
Unlike earlier evenings that week, the Luftwaffe were mounting a more concerted effort, the GCI control had their hands full, and, being unable to match up all the available fighters with hostile contacts, now allowed a few of the waiting Beaufighters to go off hunting within certain safety guidelines of their own.
Gnashing impatiently at the bit, and without a contact of their own, D-Dog had been provided with a patrol area, and the southern end of their search area brought them close to the furthest outskirts of northeast London.
The entire city would have appeared dead, were it not for the distant prickling sparks of AA, fires burning and explosions, an endless desolation of unlit concrete and brick stretching for miles into the distance, myriad barrage balloons and dim clouds of smoke floating high above the metropolis, and Rose shivered involuntarily at the apparent emptiness of the great city in which he had married and first made love to the girl he adored.
The deceptive desolation was heightened because the night was not momentarily split by occasional errant bright actinic flashes from the Underground tube train electrical system, now switched off and the stations awash with those sheltering in the Undergound, whilst here and there, in the distance a searchlight or two would probe the sky with its attendant flurry of sparkling points of ack-ack ground fire hunting an elusive prey.
The fire from AA Command was light tonight, not the usual blanketing storm the enemy bombers had to brave as they sought their targets.
He knew that the city far beneath was heavily-populated, and that hidden behind blackout curtains and moving around in the darkness below, working and living and loving, were millions of people. His people.
Months earlier, he and Molly had both been down there too, enjoying each precious, memorable moment together.
Might this war go on until we’re all dead? He wondered. Might the city below them truly be empty of life one unimaginable and awful day? Might the buildings and spaces be all that is left of us? Is it possible that man’s inhumanity to man could finally result in their extinction? Could this be the war to truly end all wars?
Eyes tracing the distant outline of the River Thames as it gracefully wound around the Isle of Dogs like a strand of silver thread, Rose recalled the first time he’d spoken with his beautiful girl, of his musings of life from beyond this planet, and his fears that the hesitant gibberish might destroy completely any tenuous interest that the lovely WAAF had in him.
He smiled to himself; Luck had been on his side then, too. He looked down at the city again.
At some time in the future, would visitors from another world arrive to find a dead one, and wonder at the decaying empty cities spreading across the land? Would they search the deserted schools and libraries and offices for signs of what humanity had been, and how it all gone so wrong?
Or perhaps the cities would not be empty, but rather, would be filled with acres upon acres of desiccated bones, or even the feather-light husks of what had once been their inhabitants?
He shivered at the terrible (if unlikely) possibility, eyes flicking automatically to the controls.
Good, no change.
They were almost at the end of this leg and it would be time to turn back in a few minutes.
His earphones crackled. “God, this is so boring, Flash, I’m starving, and I think my feet have fallen off.”
The grim mood in the cockpit broken, Rose grinned at the plaintive voice from the rear compartment, “What d’you mean, you think? Don’cha know?”
“I can’t tell, Flash. I’ve been sitting on this hard seat for so flipping long my bum and legs have gone to sleep, and my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”
“Well, get off your blinkin’ arse and run on the spot or something, then, you lazy sod.”
“Charming. It’s nice to know you care…oh, hullo, what’s that?” White’s voice trailed off uncertainly.
“
What? What’s what? What can you see?” Rose’s heart lurched and a thrill of fear coursed through him. The thoughts of dead worlds were forgotten at the prospect of facing a very alive and highly dangerous enemy.
“Sorry boss, a searchlight just lit up to the west, our two o’clock, oh! There’s another one!”
Rose looked, and sure enough, long thin whiskers of white light were reaching out and criss-crossing over the city, occasionally coning together, as if duelling with one another in order to rivet an invisible enemy aircraft against the sky.
As they watched, there were a series of searing, twinkling pinpoints of pulsing light, followed by a linear eruption of bright flames on the ground in the middle of the city, made small by distance.
“Damn it! The bastards dropped their load. Strapped in, chum?”
“Yes, mon capitaine.” The prospect of action seemed to have dampened White’s cheer.
“Let’s go and have a shufti. With a bit of luck we can catch the bastard as he heads for home.”
“If we do go in, boss, we’ll be entering the city’s AA gun zone. You know what the ack-ack boys are like, terribly keen. And the thing is, he has already dropped his bomb load, so we can wait for him to come to us?” The young Pilot Officer behind him sighed, “Sorry, Flash, didn’t mean to tell you how to suck eggs.”
White looked across the city again to where the tiny fire was burning, a growing pillar of grey smoke angrily lit beneath by the furious blaze, now reaching past the height of the barrage balloons, and he could feel the flames curling around his heart at the thought of the men, women and children dying horribly in the embattled city.
“I’m game if you are, though.” Another thing occurred to him, “You’d best watch out for the barrage balloons, too, stay high.”
Rose bit his lip as he considered. In the distance it was just possible to make out the discrete red glitter-flash sparkling of heavy and light AA.
White was right, the AA gunners defending the cities of the nation were notoriously indiscriminate, and often night fighters foolhardy enough to brave the storm of ground defence in the gun zone had limped home with damage.
Beaufighter Blitz Page 32