Smith smiled sardonically and shook his head, "No, I’ve had enough intrigue and mystery to serve me a lifetime. At least in a concentration camp I’ll know who my enemies are.” He looked pointedly at Maria and back to Von Struck. Von Struck nodded to Rohleder and the five of them cantered off.
The journey up had been uneventful and Smith had spent most of his time in silent contemplation, which only provided more fodder for Von Struck’s curiosity. He almost asked him what he was doing in Transylvania but decided against it. If Rohleder, Nau and Gruhn saw him talking to the prisoner, there would be no holding back. Rohleder, despite his lowly grade, was an accomplished linguist and a relentless prattler. Von Struck had emphatically ordered him not to try his English out on the prisoner because the sooner he learnt German, the better it would be for him.
The infamous gates of Dachau loomed before them. The guards, polished and clockwork, marched out in a squad to meet them. Although the concentration camp guards were held to high standards of discipline, their brutality to the prisoners was ignored and often encouraged. It was deemed long ago that the camps always ran better with a healthy undercurrent of violence coursing through the daily routine.
Von Struck hated them. In his eyes they were the base product of a system that sought after the weakest of enemies to validate its own authority. The men themselves were only human and, regardless of how decent any of them once were, the constant brutality towards the prisoners and the absolute power of life and death wielded by the guards, corrupted even the most dutiful of soldier.s
As the guards approached, Rohleder began to whistle the theme tune to 'Laurel and Hardy' to the timing of their step. Nau laughed out loud until Von Struck turned and silenced him with a scowl.
The lead guard approached Von Struck and, noting his officer's rank, shot his arm up, "Heil Hitler!”
Von Struck saluted back and nodded to Smith, "Here’s your charge and here’s the paperwork. It’s all in order. Where’s the nearest canteen?”
"You passed the SS barracks on the way here, Sir. There’s an Officers' Mess and an Ordinary Ranks' canteen there, Herr Standartenführer,” the NCO replied with a snap.
"Everything in order, Oberscharführer … ” he looked at the name tag, "c… Müller?c”
The guard nodded.
"Then we’ll leave you to it."
Von Struck turned to Rohleder, "Let’s go find something to eat. I’m famished.”
As they walked off they heard the NCO giving orders to Smith.
"I hope he doesn’t expect the Tommy to understand him … ” He let it trail off as they heard a smack and then something fall to the ground. They span around in unison to see the NCO laid out on the floor and the other three guards kicking the curled-up figure of Smith.
Nau took a step forward in a reflexive move towards them, but Von Struck pulled him back with one arm and strode past him to the scuffle.
"Now they’re in for it," Rohleder muttered.
"What in hell’s name do you think you’re doing, you gutless bunch of imbeciles?” They stopped the beating and froze in position.
"Stand to fucking attention when a senior officer gives you a bollocking, you spineless idiots!”
They sprang to attention at the sight of his anger; faces creased with worry and confusion.
"This prisoner is a member of the Romanian nobility and he will be treated as such, do you understand me?" They were too pre-occupied with the thought of going on report to answer, and Von Struck had to shout the question again to illicit a response.
"Jawohl!"
"Oberscharführer!”
The NCO was now on his feet and marched one step forward to answer, "Yes, Sir!”
"Oberscharführer, I will personally take an interest in this prisoner. If I find he has been harmed in any way, you’ll be on the front with me fighting Ivan in the blink of an eye. Do you understand me? Don’t just stand there, help him up!”
The NCO clicked his heels as he answered, "Jawohl, Herr Standartenführer!”
The guards rushed to help Smith off the ground but Müller stood before Von Struck, still at the attention. His actions spoke deference but his eyes shot daggers. Markus noted his hatred and smiled inwardly. "I hope I don’t mess up so badly that I end up here," he thought to himself. "Because if you’re in charge I won’t survive the first week."
The Englishman nodded to Von Struck as they moved off and they were gone. He could make out the NCO muttering his infantile threats but he ignored it and turned to his men. "Now I’m really hungry. Action does that to a man. Let’s find a cook to terrorize into frying some eggs for us.”
Chapter 25
Four days later
The Count kept them waiting in the library for almost twenty minutes. Von Struck had picked himself an old book off the shelf and started to read. Rasch paced up and down, his hands wringing in agitation.
"What does he want now? I’m working on it as fast as I can.”
"Sit down and stop worrying." Markus didn’t look up from his book as he spoke, "He wants to brief us on the mission tomorrow, that’s all.”
"I hope so." Rasch muttered.
Von Struck smiled into his book.
Throwing the double doors wide open so that they crashed against the walls, the Count burst in. Rasch jumped out of his skin and, as the Count passed him, he hunched his shoulders and ducked his head in a subconscious cower. The Count strode into the middle of the room and stood before Von Struck who put his book down to look the Count in the eye.
"Tell me, Herr Doctor," he said without taking his eyes off Von Struck, "tell me how far you are from developing the serum?”
Rasch was startled by the question, "Oh, er, I haven’t really done any more tests, your Excellency. I’ve been far too busy teaching the men to ride, as you ordered." Von Struck frowned as he listened to Rasch simpering to the Count.
Still looking down at Von Struck, the Count continued, "Well, isn’t it about time you got back to work on the serum you promised me?”
Rasch hesitated to answer, not sure if he wanted an answer or if he should just simply leave immediately.
"Now!" boomed the Count, as if he had read his thoughts. Rasch scuttled out, muttering platitudes, and closed the door behind him.
"The Doctor is very confident in your abilities, Herr Von Struck.”
"I’m surprised he discussed me with you but it’s always nice to have a vote of confidence from an unexpected corner.”
The Count turned and sat in the chair opposite to Von Struck. He wordlessly studied him as he sat back to cross his legs.
Von Struck, in turn, put the book down and looked directly at the Dracyl. "You wanted to brief me on the operation tomorrow?" It was more of a command than a question and the Count bristled.
"Yes, yes of course. You have met my soldiers, Standartenführer. Tell me what you think.”
"What I think?”
"Yes, how the operation should run. How we should coordinate, communicate with each other. I’m sure you have experience of working with other armies and I would like to know how you think we should work together to achieve the best results.”
Von Struck nodded and his demeanour abruptly transformed as he set his mind to the task ahead. "As I see it, your Vampires will carry on as normal, the only difference being that they will not return here every night Instead they will return to a safe haven, secured by us, to rest during daylight hours. The problems as I see it are as follows: positioning - do your men read maps? Communication - do your men speak German? And the third, what happens if Ivan bumps us in the day?”
The Count nodded as he listed the problems.
"Lastly, and perhaps the most important, who has the final say in the field? Here, you have command. This is your castle and your country. In Russia we’re both in enemy territory. The last thing I need is to get into a 'whose-dick-is-the-biggest' competition with your men’s OC while we’re out in the field.”
”Very eloquently put, Herr Von St
ruck. I see that you have spent some time deliberating the operations ahead of us. I have some answers for you and some questions.”
Von Struck nodded and the Count continued.
"Yes, my men do read maps, German maps too. Not that we have any of Russia, but if the need arises we can use them. Secondly, my men speak their own language. It is a very old tongue, thousands of years old, actually. During the change they take leave of all the remnants of their past lives and acquire the skills and traits of our kind, which includes of course our language." Von Struck opened his mouth to say something but was hushed by the Count. "I’m not quite finished. Let me talk and then you may ask or answer anything that’s not settled. I have made plans for how we should communicate. I will tell you after you’ve answered one question for me.”
"And that is?”
"If you are contacted by the enemy during the rest phase for my troops, are you willing to sit out the fire-fight until my men are ready to fight, that is until darkness falls, or will you run at the first sign of trouble and leave my men to their fate at the hands of the Russians?”
"I have never run from the enemy.” Von Struck bridled at the assumption. "We will wait until your men are ready to provide us with assistance. Reinforcement is always better than retreat, especially if the reinforcements are as skilled in night-fighting as your men.”
The Count stood up, "Good. I can assure you that my men will not let you down, Herr Von Struck. As to the point about communication, I have devised a way to solve all your problems. The leader of my men is called Arak. He speaks German and reads your maps too. When he went through the change, I allowed an inch of his former self to remain in him, so there should be no problem on that front. As to who is in command, I leave that up to you … ”
"That’s exactly what I mean," Von Struck protested. "In the field there has to be one man who makes the decisions. Two men in charge will never work. If needs be your man can take charge but we cannot afford questions of authority in Ivan’s backyard." Von Struck inwardly shuddered at the thought of taking orders from one the Count’s ghouls but need dictated a clear line in who was to command. He hoped the Count wouldn’t take him up on the offer.
The Count smiled at the outburst and nodded his head as if he understood. "Yes, yes, I know this. I also realise that my soldiers are completely foreign to you and your men, so I decided long ago to ease the situation for you all. I decided that whoever is in command of my men should be used to being subordinate to you already.”
Von Struck’s mind worked furiously as he tried to understand what was being said.
The Dracyl’s smile broadened into a triumphant leer. "I have named him Arak, you know him as … “
" … Muntner,” Von Struck inaudibly finished with him. He felt the steel in him shudder at the thought of his lost comrade in arms.
"So you see, there will be no problem with control. Muntner was your man and now, as Arak, he’s mine. You will be in command, Standartenführer Von Struck. Your experience is needed if this is to be successful. Arak will look to you for orders." He looked at Von Struck’s stricken face,
"What seems to be the problem?” he smirked.
Markus sat back down and looked at his hands in horror. How could this be? How had he been driven into this nightmare?
"We will talk tomorrow evening, before you go, Herr Standartenführer." And then, with a sigh of parted air, he was gone. Only the faint echo of his presence left any clue to his having been there.
Chapter 26
Inside the Ukrainian Border
One week later
Henning suggested the quarry as a possible base. Situated just inside the Ukrainian border, it wasn’t listed on any of the maps but the contour pattern and its situation in the middle of a forest looked promising. He pointed it out to Von Struck who in turn showed the Count. They agreed it was to be the first rendezvous point with the Count’s soldiers and possibly a semi-permanent camp.
Abandoned, overgrown and forgotten, it was perfect for what they needed. Leading off into the sides were mine shafts dug after the quarry had been raped of its assets in an abortive attempt to find new wealth. The fact that it was set in the middle of wood, and that there was no more than a rudimentary track leading past it, bore witness to the length of time it had lain dormant and unused.
They approached it on foot from the east. The initial recce had shown nothing, so Von Struck decided to move in. It was so well hidden among the fir trees that Gruhn, alert though he was for any enemy activity, had walked right past it and had to be called back to the squad.
Gathering just outside a natural split in the rock that served as an entrance, they knelt down and Von Struck whispered the order of attack to the men. "Nau, Gruhn, you go in first. No grenades and no spraying the area with lead to clear it. We don’t want to advertise our new home to any locals, so stealth, please, gentlemen.”
They both nodded.
"Berndt, Andreas, Rohleder and myself move in next and then Muschi and Henning as rearguard. Any questions or comments?”
There were none. This was serious and they all knew not to play the comic when the intensity turned up a notch. Using only hand signals to communicate they went in.
Nau was the first through the gap. It was about two meters wide and Matze took the right hand side. Gruhn followed at a small distance on the left. The quarry itself was about a thousand meters square with steep walls that looked very high. It was almost like a small valley, closed off at one end. On their right as they moved in were two shored-up entrances to what they took to be the old mines. On their left, taking up three-quarters of the area space, was dense conifer. It seemed deserted, so Nau turned to give the nod. It would be bad procedure to try to clear the area alone with so many unknowns, such as the mines or the heavy foliage. As he turned to signal to the rest, he caught the feint snort of a horse.
It came from the trees. Von Struck and the others were now in with them and Matze appraised him of the situation.
"I didn’t see anything. I just heard it coming from the fir trees there.”
"Right.” Von Struck turned and signalled for Gruhn and Rohleder to clear the area with Nau. The others were to stay. They moved into the foliage, three abreast. They couldn’t help but be loud due to the density of the undergrowth and within seconds they were lost from sight.
They waited for any sign of hostile action. Was it an ambush, Red Army deserters or was it just a runaway horse? Unexpectedly, and all too loudly for Von Struck, Rohleder shouted from the bush.
"Boss, come here, I’ve found them.”
"Does he always have to be so damnably loud?" he cursed to himself.
Only Von Struck moved forward; the rest waited for the signal. Who or what had he found? He moved through the tangle of branches until he saw Rohleder’s grinning face. He saluted Von Struck with a schnapps glass as he came into view.
"What the hell … ?”
"They’ve got booze, Boss. This could be a very comfortable operation if we’re good to them." Rohleder was beaming from ear to ear as he indicated the people who had given him the schnapps.
It was an old man, his wife, two young women and four children - a boy of about twelve and three little girls who all looked to be between seven and ten.
"Thank the Führer, German soldiers. We were so worried. We thought you were Russians or partisans. German soldiers. Look girls, German soldiers. SS. We’re safe now,” the old man babbled in his obvious elation.
The women all stared at Rohleder in alarm. The German uniform did nothing to allay their suspicions and they said nothing. Only the old man animatedly handed out glasses and jabbered their story to no one in particular.
"We had a terrible time in Lemberg. The peasants hated us and nothing would grow. I’m convinced the partisans were poisoning the crops. Then, when we heard of the Russian advance, I knew we had to leave. All was well until our horse here went lame on us." He indicated an old nag, one eye closed and nothing but skin and bone.
"You’re German, then?" Von Struck asked the obvious to slow him down.
"Yes, Volksdeutsche. We were given a farm not far from Lemberg in the Ukraine. Only a smallholding really. Not very profitable, I’m afraid, but nevertheless, we didn’t make a loss. How far are we going to let the Russians come. Is it a feint to lure them into a trap? I was in Verdun. Those Frenchies never knew what hit them." He was off again, so Von Struck stopped him short,
"Can you tell me if there are any enemy in these parts - Communists, partisans, Russian soldiers?”
The old man paused and realised he’d been babbling. The soldier in him grasped what they needed to know and he visibly calmed down.
"We have been here for the last two weeks and we have seen no one. There is a small brook not far from here and the mines there," he nodded to the entrances, "are deserted, though we haven’t been inside because it looks too dangerous.”
"Fine, we’ll send out a patrol anyway but this will do, I think,” Von Struck said to nobody in particular. "Go and get the others, Matze.”
The women and the children hadn’t taken their eyes off Rohleder throughout the whole exchange and their mute, open staring had started to unsettle him. He was fond of children and once, in a different life, he and his wife had made plans to bring their own into the world. The flame-thrower had not only erased his face, but also the future he had once so ardently planned for.
The men in the Regiment were used to the sight of his disfigurement but now, under the horrified scrutiny of the women and children, Rohleder was forcefully reminded of what he had lost and of what he had become.
"What happened to your face?" It was the young boy. He approached Rohleder and candidly stared at him, waiting for a reply.
Taken off-guard, he was at first too stunned to answer.
"Did the Russians do that to you?” the boy persisted.
"Yes.” He nodded, trying to smile.
The Division of the Damned Page 14