The Countess fluttered her eyelashes. “I’m so glad you approve, Sergeant.”
“Okay,” Mazursky said, “If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right. Hereafter this house has to appear as though Baroness Helga and Countess Lilli are the only ones here. That means there can be no cigar butts in the ashtrays, or men’s clothes lying around, or four beds being slept in. We’ve got to be ready for a search at a moment’s notice. Does everybody understand that?”
The Baroness sniffed. “I think you’re exaggerating, Sergeant. No one would dare search my home.”
“We have to be prepared. It may be a matter of life and death.”
“Well, if it’ll make you happy we’ll cooperate of course.”
“Good.” Mazursky looked at Dexter. “Let’s go out to the barn and bury these clothes.”
“Right.”
“It’s cold out there,” Countess Lilli said. “Let me get you coats.”
They went to the hall closet, and the Countess gave them men’s mackinaws that had been worn by the Baron and the Count before the war. The women returned to their cooking in the kitchen, and the men went out to the barn.
Mazursky found a shovel near the barn door and they walked back, looking for a place to dig. But the floor was made of concrete.
“Hey,” said Dexter. “Why don’t we put it under the cow shit and horse shit? No one would ever dream of looking there.”
Mazursky dug out some of the manure, and they dropped the clothing into the hole. Then Mazursky covered it up. They returned to the house, hung up their mackinaws, and sat in the living room near the fireplace, smoking cigars and cigarettes. A light snow began to fall, and the Baroness served them brandy, then returned to the kitchen.
“This is a fantastic set-up,” Mazursky said. “I hope this fucking war goes on forever.”
“I’ve never lived like this in my life,” Dexter replied, his feet up on a cassock. “This brandy is smoother than honey.”
“These cigars would cost a dollar apiece in New York.”
“These old babes must have a lot of money.”
“Yeah, I don’t suppose they ever missed many meals, but if the war goes on for much longer, they’re going to find out what it’s like. The chickens and pigs can’t hold out forever.”
“How long you think the war will go on, Mazursky?”
“Who the fuck knows?”
“What are you going to do after it’s over?”
“Shit, I don’t know.”
“You think you’ll re-enlist?”
“I suppose that’s what I’ll wind up doing. The Army’s all I know. How about you?”
“I’m going to try and buy some timberland up there in Maine, and go into the pulp business. Paper is made out of tree pulp, you know. There’s a lot of money in it.”
“You’d leave the Army?”
“You’re fucking right I’d leave the Army.”
“I always figured you weren’t much of a soldier.”
“I can out-soldier you any day of the week.”
“Bullshit. You’re just basically a civilian. It’s assholes like you that join the paratroopers.”
“You couldn’t make it on the outside, Mazursky.”
“Who in the fuck wants to make it on the outside? All you can do on the outside is get some kind of a boring stupid job for the rest of your life, or go into business like you want to and lose your ass. Even if you succeed in business, all that makes you is the head clerk. I’d rather be in the fucking Army.”
“Only guys with no brains make a career out of the Army.”
“Only guys who haven’t got enough to take Army life says things like that.”
“I took plenty of Army life, but I’m sick of it. I thought I was going to be a twenty year man, but enough is enough.”
“Sissy.”
“Idiot.”
“Punk.”
“Shithead.”
They sat in front of the fireplace for the rest of the afternoon drinking brandy, arguing, and throwing logs on the fire. At around six o’clock in the evening Baroness Helga and Countess Lilli entered the living room, both wearing silk cocktail dresses. The Baroness’s was white and the Countess’s was black.
“Dinner is served, gentlemen,” the Baroness said.
Mazursky and Dexter arose unsteadily, took their ladies’ arms, and went to the dining room, which was aglow with candlelight and agleam with china and silver. The men seated themselves at the two ends of the table, while the women went into the kitchen for the first course, which was a split pea soup in a silver tureen that had been in the Baroness’s family for nearly four hundred years. The Baroness carried the tureen while the Countess ladled it into bowls. Then the women sat at the table. They proceeded to dine.
“How do you like the soup?” the Baroness asked Mazursky.
“It’s very good,” he replied, trying to eat it without making the loud slurping noises he’d normally make in the mess hall.
“The best I ever had,” Dexter added, holding the spoon daintily in his massive gnarled hand.
“Have you gentlemen been enjoying your day?” the Baroness asked.
“Yes ma’am,” said Mazursky.
“Uh huh,” added Dexter.
“That’s good,” she said, “because Countess Lilli and I thought you should have a day off, since you’ve both been through so much. But there’s a lot of work to be done here and tomorrow you’ll have to start helping us out. There are cows to be milked, animals to be fed, manure to be shoveled, wood to be chopped, coal to be shoveled, and so forth. Countess Lilli and I have been doing it all alone until now, and I don’t have to tell you that we’re not used to this type of work. Why, there were never less than ten servants on this estate in the old days. We hope you won’t mind helping us.”
Mazursky leaned forward and smiled. “Ladies, if you take care of the kitchen, Sergeant Dexter and myself will take care of everything else, won’t we Sergeant Dexter?”
“Why sure, Sergeant Mazursky.”
Baroness Helga looked at them through her sultry eyes. “That would be very kind of you, gentlemen.”
“It’s the least we could do, right Sergeant Dexter?”
“Right.”
After the soup course, the main course was served. It consisted of a roast chicken, baked potatoes, and boiled carrots. A fine Riesling was poured by Countess Lilli.
“How do you keep all these vegetables fresh?” Mazursky asked.
“We keep them in the cellar,” the Baroness replied. “Root vegetables keep that way for a long time. We have enough vegetables for about another year, but I don’t think the meat will last until summer. I hope the war is over by then.”
The dessert was baked applies, served with coffee. Then the women cleared off the table and washed the dishes, while the men sat before the fireplace, sipping brandy and smoking.
“What a fucking deal this is,” Dexter said lazily.
“Pour me a little more brandy, will you Sergeant old boy?”
After a while the women returned to the living room.
“Do you know what we’re going to do now?” Baroness Helga asked.
“What?” asked Mazursky.
“You mean you’ve forgotten?”
“Forgotten what?” asked Dexter.
“What night this is?”
“It’s Christmas Eve!” Mazursky and Dexter said together.
“That’s right, and we’ve got to decorate the tree.”
The men went outside and got the tree, carrying it to the living room and setting it on the pedestal that the women brought down from the attic along with boxes of decorations. Together they decorated the tree, drank brandy, and sang Christmas carols. The men got so drunk that occasionally they forgot where they were and tried to cop cheap feels from the women, who slapped their hands. The Baroness put some records on the record player and they danced between the sofas and chairs, executing spins and sexy dips. They kissed and sighed. It was
» very romantic and lovey-dovey there in the light of the flickering fireplace.
Then a light flashed across the wall.
“What the fuck is that!” Mazursky said. He rushed to the window and peeked out the side of the curtains.
He saw four vehicles rolling over the driveway toward the house.
“I think it’s a searching party,” Mazursky said.
Countess Lilli looked out the window. “It’s the SS,” she said, turning pale.
“How do you know?” asked Dexter, who was looking out the side of another curtain.
“I can see the lightning bolt insignia on their license plate.”
Mazursky and Dexter ran toward the suits of armor. They stepped into the iron pants, and the women helped them on with the iron jackets and helmets. Mazursky gripped the handle of the sword in his scabbard, while Dexter grabbed his spear. They both could see out the slits in their helmets.
The Baroness was furious. She paced back and forth gnashing her teeth. “How dare the SS come here!” she yelled. “Who do they think I am! If my husband were here he’d have them all shot!”
The caravan of black Mercedes-Benz limousines stopped in front of the house, and black-uniformed SS men got out. They marched up to the front door and pounded on it.
“I’ll handle them,” Baroness Helga said, raising her chin in the air. She walked out of the living room, down the entrance hall, and opened the front door.
Standing before her was a troop of SS men. In front of them was a tall Captain with a long face and a few dueling scars on his cheeks. He had a nervous tic in one eye.
She gazed coldly at him. “What is the meaning of this interruption!”
He smiled obsequiously. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you madam, but several dangerous men have escaped from the prisoner of war camp at Schwanditz, and I would like to know if you have seen any strangers roaming about, by any chance.”
“I have seen no one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“May I inquire who lives here?”
“You may not!”
The Baroness tried to slam the door in his face, but he stopped it with his hand.
“How dare you!” she screamed.
“Madam, I’m afraid you don’t know who you’re dealing with,” he said.
“On the contrary sir, I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with!”
“I beg to differ with you. You are the Baroness Van Kanzow. And I am Captain Fritz Goertz of the SS.” He reached into his pocket and took out a silver disc about two inches in diameter. It was embossed with a swastika and some words she couldn’t read. “This is my warrant; it confers upon me unlimited rights of search, interrogation, arrest, and execution. We are going to search your buildings and grounds. Please get out of my war, or I’ll have you shot.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
He took out his Luger and pointed it at her head. “Don’t tempt me. The decadent nobility like yourself have long stood in the way of The Fuehrer and his great plans for this country, but you shall not stand in my way here.”
“You wouldn’t dare shoot!” she shouted, puffing out her chest.
“Wouldn’t I?” He flicked off the safety and took aim at her nose.
She realized he meant business, and stepped back. Captain Goertz ordered his men to search the house, surrounding buildings, and immediate area. They scurried off in all directions, their rifles and pistols at the ready. Some went into the manor, and Captain Goertz followed them. Then he stopped suddenly.
“Is that cigar smoke I smell?” he asked.
“I . . . well ...” the Baroness stammered.
He charged down the hall and entered the living room, with the Baroness right behind him fearing the worst. They saw Countess Lilli sitting on the sofa, smoking Mazursky’s cigar. She was a little green around the gills.
“Hello,” she said with a faint smile. “Merry Christmas.”
His mouth turned down at the corners. “Do you customarily smoke cigars, madam?”
“All the time.”
“How disgustingly decadent.”
The Captain looked at the fireplace, the paintings, the Christmas tree, and the suits of armor.
Baroness Helga trembled with rage and indignation. “If my husband were here, you wouldn’t dare invade my home this way.”
Captain Goertz looked sideways at her and smirked. “If he spoke to me the way you have, madam, I’d take him to the nearest concentration camp and roast him alive.”
“It’s a disgrace that SS men like you are harassing good Germans while men like my husband are risking their lives on the Eastern Front.”
He harrumphed. “The Eastern Front is collapsing because of men like your husband.”
“Everyone knows that the worst scoundrels in Germany are in the SS,” she countered.
“Don’t try my patience, madam. Your life doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Countess Lilli was afraid the situation might get out of hand. She stood, smiled, and walked toward Captain Goertz.
“It’s a pity, Captain, that you have to be out on Christmas Eve. I’m sure you’d much rather be with your family.”
“That is correct, madam.”
The Countess looked at the Baroness. “You should be more understanding, Helga. Where would the Reich be if it weren’t for brave SS men like this Captain?”
“Better off.”
Captain Goertz turned purple and reached for his Luger again. Countess Lilli grabbed his wrist. “Don’t let yourself be upset by a woman, sir. She can’t help herself. You see, her husband tried to join the SS, and was rejected,” Countess Lilli lied.
“Oh, so that’s how it is?”
“ Yes, Captain. It was a great blow to both of them, because they both wanted to be part of the SS. Now I’m afraid my cousin has grown bitter.”
“I understand now,” he said with a smile. “After all, not everyone can be accepted by our elite organization.” The armor inhabited by Mazursky caught his eye. “That’s a very interesting suit of armor. I think I’d like to take a closer look at it.”
The Baroness and Countess tried to hide their consternation as Captain Goertz strode toward the suit of armor. The Countess was near collapse from the cigar she was smoking. Mazursky resolved to cleave Captain Goertz in twain if Goertz discovered him.
Captain Goertz touched the breastplate of the armor. “This is a very interesting piece. I believe it dates from the seventeenth century.”
“An ancestor of my husband wore it in the War against the Turks in 1661,” Baroness Helga said drily.
“You don’t say.”
“What was your family doing in 1661, Captain,” the Baroness asked with a murderous edge in her voice.
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
A sergeant marched into the living room, halted before Captain Goertz, and gave the Heil Hitler Salute. “We have conducted a thorough search, sir, and have found no one.”
“You’ve looked everywhere?”
“Yes sir.”
“Even in the cellar?”
“Yes sir.”
“The attic?”
“Yes sir.”
“Very well. Assemble your men and return to the vehicles.”
“Yes sir.”
The sergeant gave the Heil Hitler salute again, did an about-face, and left the room.
Captain Goertz tipped his hat and bowed slightly to the ladies. “That will be all. I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you.”
Baroness Helga glowered at him.
Countess Lilli stepped forward. “I’ll see you to the door, sir.”
“That would be very kind of you.”
She led him out of the living room and through the corridor to the front door. He opened it, and the other SS men could be seen loading into the limousines.
“I’m sorry about the way my cousin behaved,” the Countess said. “She’s been quite distraught lately.”
“You needn’t apologize. These are difficult times for the Fatherland. Good night, madam.”
“Good night, sir. And good luck with your search.”
“Thank you.”
Captain Goertz gave her a little salute, turned, and marched to his Mercedes-Benz, getting in behind the driver. The limousines were starting their engines as the Countess closed the door. She returned to the living room. After the limousines had left the driveway, and their tail lights were tiny red dots in the distance, Mazursky and Dexter got out of their suits of armor, and the Christmas Eve celebration continued.
Chapter Eleven
In the days that followed, Mazursky and Dexter went to the barn each morning to feed the animals, gather the eggs, milk the cows, and shovel the shit, while the women stayed in the house and did the cooking, house cleaning, and laundry. They dressed for dinner each night, danced and drank brandy in the living room, and went to bed. Toward the end of January, Baroness Helga suggested they change bed partners, citing variety as the spice of life, and everyone agreed.
The days grew longer, and soon it was March. Mazursky and Dexter, during their hours in the barn, often remarked on their idyllic existence, and expressed the desire that it would go on forever. They confessed to each other that they’d never been so happy in their lives. Their temperaments improved to the point where they even stopped insulting each other. Yet they knew that their situation couldn’t last forever.
The snow disappeared from the ground and buds burst on the trees. The meadows turned pale green, and one day a robin was seen on the lawn in front of the mansion. The women were disconsolate after receiving letters from their husbands stating that the German Army was suffering heavy casualties in the East, but after a few days they regained their high spirits and switched partners again. One night, all four of them went to bed together.
On the second of April they heard the faint sound of artillery bombardments. The sounds were louder on the next day. Two days later they could hear machine gun and rifle fire. From the attic of the mansion they could see smoke on the horizon. On the next day they could see heavy troop movements heading toward the heartland of Germany on the road that was not far from the mansion.
“The German Army is retreating,” Mazursky said.
Doom Platoon Page 16