by T J Kinsella
to a pulp.
For a moment or two, Gillitzer stayed on the ground, staring blankly at the tree, which now lay on the grass, less than a metre from his feet. The only part of the Hitler that was visible was his lower arm, which was protruding out from underneath the trunk. It was not until commander Braal had dashed over to his position, that he began to pick himself up.
“Are you alright?” asked a concerned looking Braal.
“No, I’m bloody not,” said Gillitzer incredulously, “I’m tired, Pieter...I’m sick and bloody tired. I’m tired of going back and forth to the bunker. I’m tired of Richtofen’s lectures, and I’m tired of trying to keep this idiot alive!”
With that Gillitzer span around and clumsily tried to kick at Hitler’s arm.
“But most of all Pieter,” He said after regaining his balance, “I’m tired of failing. So, this is it...this time Pieter, we will succeed, I swear. This time we will get Hitler back to the ship. Fate can throw whatever it likes at us...bullets, rockets, bloody great trees...it won’t matter. This time, Pieter, we won’t be stopped!”
With that Gillitzer dusted himself down, straightened his uniform, and set off for the landing site like a man possessed. Braal didn’t follow immediately but instead stood pondering on Gillitzer’s outburst, not knowing whether he should be inspired by the Captain’s words, or worried.
Once Schultz and Harris had joined him, Braal set off hurriedly after the Captain, although the pace with which Gillitzer was walking meant that they were almost at the threshold of the cloaking shield before they caught up with him. Without even acknowledging that they were there, the Captain strode through the surface of the cloaking shield, and then straight past major Richtofen.
The Major was immediately about to launch into another tirade, but when he saw the thunderous expression on the Captain’s face, he thought better of it. Gillitzer had the look of a man who had not only reached the end of his tether...but had also chewed right through it.
“Not one bloody, word, Richtofen, do you hear me,” he said as he marched up to the generator cables, “Not one.”
The major, to everyone’s surprise including his own, obliged, silently and somewhat sheepishly, following Gillitzer, over to the cables.
Once the reversal process was finished, and each of the group began to disconnect themselves, a small warning sound began to emanate from the major’s wrist unit. Richtofen immediately pushed up his sleeve and began to examine the data on the miniature screen.
“Well that’s that,” he said with grim resignation, “The generator’s out of charge, so this is your final chance.”
They all stood there for a moment, exchanging concerned glances, with the exception of Captain Gillitzer. He was, instead, already stomping off towards the doppelganger’s stretcher, eager to get the final attempt underway and determined, this time, to outdo destiny.
And so Braal, Schultz, Harris and Gillitzer, started out, on tired legs, toward the Fuhrerbunker for the final time. As with their previous attempts, they retrieved Hitler from his bunker without incident, before encountering the many dangers that lay between them and the landing site.
Despite their exhaustion, Gillitzer and his team worked tirelessly, once more, to keep Hitler from harm on the way back. They avoided falling rubble, drunk drivers and errant rockets; They ducked bullets and they dodged shrapnel, until they had made their way to the outer wall of the Tiergarten again.
After waiting for the familiar explosion of the passing rocket, they headed over wall and through the trees, giving the old elm tree a wide berth. Reaching open ground, they then started to cross the grass, at a point that they assumed was a safe distance from the impending impact of the elm. The group were only halfway across, when they discovered that assumption was wrong.
The wind began to pick up and, just as before, the old tree began to slowly topple over. The angle that it fell, however, was slightly different than before, and it started to fall against a neighbouring tree. As the elm came down it caught a number of branches that, under the weight of the impact, broke off instantly.
As the trunk continued downward, it hit one of the larger, lower branches which, instead of snapping, began to bend wildly under the immense pressure. When, an instant later, it did break, the huge strain that it had been under sent the broken branch catapulting toward the group with ungodly speed and inevitability.
But this time, Gillitzer was ready; This time he was not going to be denied.
With cat like reflexes he lurched forward and snatched hold of Hitler’s lapels. Then, with as much strength and speed as he could summon, he then yanked the Fuhrer towards him, sending them both tumbling backwards onto the ground. A fraction of a second later the branch flashed past them, flying directly through the space which Hitler’s head had only just vacated.
Hitler, aside from grazing his hand, crushing the cyanide capsule in his pocket and tearing the stitching in the lapel of his jacket, came through the event unscathed. This did not, however, stop him from berating Gillitzer, after they had got back to their feet.
“What on earth do you think you were doing, Captain?” he said, still completely oblivious to the fact that he had been in any danger at all. “Wherever it is that you are leading me to, I would sooner arrive in one piece!”
“Yes, of course...My apologies. Please forgive me, my Fuhrer.” said Gillitzer, before allowing himself a brief, ironic smile.
There was now, just thirty metres separating the group from the edge of the cloaking shield. Although the distance took only a few seconds to cross, to Gillitzer, it felt like an age. When, finally they reached the threshold of the shield, they were all on the verge of collapse.
When the Hitler caught sight of the shields shimmering surface, he instinctively came to a halt.
“It’s alright, my Fuhrer, that’s nothing to be afraid of.” said Gillitzer, “it’s just the means by which we concealed our vehicles. It’s quite safe…watch.”
With that, Gillitzer stepped forward passing through the barrier and, to Hitler’s astonishment, as he did so, began to vanish from sight. To add to the fuhrer’s amazement, the captain reappeared a second later, as he stepped back through the shield.
“Please my Fuhrer.” Said Gillitzer beckoning him to follow, before disappearing once again.
Hitler had reached the opinion, in the twenty hazard filled minutes since meeting him, that the captain was a man who could be trusted. So, despite still being somewhat afraid of the shimmering barrier, he warily followed Gillitzer through the shield. As strange as the sight of someone disappearing before his eyes was, it was nothing compared to what he saw when he passed through the barrier.
There, on the ground before him, were two chrome aircraft, the likes of which he had never seen. The design and construction of the vehicles was so alien to him that he was barely able to discern that they were aircraft at all. The Fuhrer stopped dead in his tracks, staring in awe at the strange craft, until Gillitzer put a hand reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I think that an explanation may be in order, my Fuhrer.” he said with a smile, before starting to divulge, for the second time that day, exactly who he was and where he was from.
The fact that Hitler had seen the sight of the Turmfalke and the Erloser seemingly appear out of thin air, made the task of making him believe it, a lot easier second time around.
As Gillitzer neared the end of his rehearsed disclosure to the Fuhrer, Richtofen came marching over from the Turmfalke, His demeanour had now completely changed, from how it had been, on the group’s earlier returns. Gone was the furrowed brow, the cheeks flushed with anger, the twitch in his eye, now all replaced by an expression of relief.
“Allow me to introduce myself, my Fuhrer,” interrupted the major, “I am Major Ernst Richtofen, Zeit Korp, Special Operations. I am in command of the rescue mission.”
“Yes, yes,” said Hitler, waving his hand at Richtofen, dismissively, “Never mind all that.” I am keen to see more of th
is fabulous craft of yours, Captain.”
“Of course, my Fuhrer,” replied Gillitzer, “We have a little time before we take off, I will have my first officer give you a quick tour of the ship.”
Gillitzer gestured to Braal, who promptly marched over and saluted.
“Commander, would you be so good as to show the Fuhrer around the bridge. I will meet up with you at my quarters.”
“Yes, Captain,” replied Braal.
The Commander, taking the utmost of care, then escorted Hitler over to the Erloser, and up the landing ramp. With their prize, safely aboard the ship, both Gillitzer and Richtofen felt a collective weight lifted from them.
“Well, you got the job done, eventually, Captain,” said the Major, still annoyed at the fact that Hitler had blanked him, “So, I suppose some sort of credit is due to you.”
“Thank you, Major,” replied Gillitzer.
“Signal me, when you have prepped for take-off,” continued Richtofen, “When we are in orbit, complete your calculations, and transmit them to my ship...I would like to double check them.”
“Off course, major.” said Gillitzer, somewhat offended at the suggestion that his calculations needed double checking.
“And one last thing, Gillitzer,” said Richtofen, his eyes narrowing, “the fact that you completed the mission, means that I am willing to forget your earlier bout of insubordination...this time.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“But if you ever speak to me in that way again,” continued Richtofen, his eyes narrowing, “I will make sure your career comes to an abrupt halt. Do I make myself clear, Captain?”
“Perfectly, Sir.” Replied Gillitzer, begrudgingly.
He then saluted the Major, before turning away and marching off toward the Erloser. As he walked, he conceded that he had overstepped the mark earlier and probably did deserve the ticking off he had just received. Despite this admission, he still found a small part of himself secretly wishing that was Richtofen, he had seen die multiple times.
After giving the Fuhrer a quick tour of the Erloser’s bridge, Commander Braal found the Captain waiting for them outside his quarters. Gillitzer was patiently standing by the door with his Wehrmacht cap under his arm, busily smoothing down his prematurely grey hair. When he saw Braal and Hitler approaching, he quickly replaced his cap, and clicked his heels in salute.
“I am sure that you would probably want to take some time to freshen up and gather your thoughts, my Fuhrer.” said Gillitzer, “Please allow me to offer you my quarters for the duration of our flight. I’m afraid it’s not the most luxurious of accommodation, but it’s the best we have.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Hitler replied.
“Once we are safely in orbit, I will send commander Braal to bring you to the bridge. I expect you would like to take the opportunity to see, the earth from space.”
“I would enjoy that, Captain.” replied Hitler, still overawed from the fantastic situation he now found himself in.
“Although, I must insist that you return to these quarters when we make the Jump back to our own time,” Gillitzer continued, “we can experience a lot of turbulence in the void and I’ll need you strapped in, for your own safety.”
“Of course,” said Hitler, “this is your vessel, Captain. Whilst I am aboard it, I am under your command.”
Gillitzer passed his hand over a black panel on the wall, activating the door, which immediately hissed open. He then gestured for Hitler to step inside, before entering the room himself.
The quarters were small and sparse, containing little more than a bunk, a small desk and a chair. Gillitzer opened a small door to the side of the room, which led to a small cubicle that served as both shower and toilet. He then spent the next few minutes, carefully explaining the controls and use of both.
Returning to the main area of his quarters, Gillitzer then activated a viewscreen on the wall, showing a camera view of the bridge.
“Should you need anything, you can hail me by pressing this blue square on the screen,” he said pointing at the appropriate button.
“I will be fine, thank you, Captain.” said Hitler, with genuine gratitude in his voice.
Gillitzer then offered a quick salute, before stepping back out into the corridor, and closing the door.
Hitler, still somewhat stunned by the whole experience, sat himself in Gillitzer’s chair. He Remembered the notepad that was in his trouser pocket, and immediately retrieved it. Placing it open on the desk in front of him, he then took the pen from out of his breast pocket, not noticing the small black, fragments of the broken cyanide capsule, that were stuck to the end of it.
It would not be easy to put the incredible events of the day into words, he thought to himself, as he sat staring at the blank page. He had experienced Eva’s death, came seconds from taking his own life and then endured a hazard ridden escape from his bunker. Now here he was, in a craft that could travel through both time and space, that would, in just a couple of hours, take him far into the future.
As he sat there, wondering how he could possibly describe such wonders, he began to staring into space, then placed the cyanide covered end of his pen into his mouth...
“You know the thing I’m looking forward to most about getting home?” Gillitzer asked the waiting Commander Braal, after the door to his quarters had hissed closed behind him, “Is not having to patronise that maniac anymore.”
“Then, I suppose the fact that you just saved his life repeatedly, doesn’t sit well, either.” chuckled Braal.
“Don’t remind me…I just hope the councils scheme works, I would hate to think that we have gone through all this for nothing.”
“What do you think they will say when they found out that we made an unauthorised jump?” asked Braal, “Do you think we will be suspended? Or even Court martialled?”
“I think the fact that we completed the operation, will keep them from throwing the book at us. But don’t worry about it, Pieter, we’ll be fine.” said Gillitzer with a smile,
“What makes you so sure?” asked Braal as they set off down the corridor.
“Like I said before,” replied Gillitzer, smiling, “I think our luck is beginning to change for the better!”
The two continued on, toward the bridge, neither one hearing the sound of the Fuhrer’s lifeless body as it hit the floor behind them.
*