Moynahan nodded. “Dortmund said come here. Said he brings his wife and family.”
Hammond nodded.
The beers were placed on the table in large mugs. Although he usually didn’t drink, Hammond took a good sip. His eyes opened wide as he looked at the mug and then at Moynahan. “This doesn’t taste anything like what I’ve had before. It’s even better than what I had in Kiel during our round the world trip,” he exclaimed.
“A lot of these places brew their own or it’s from the small pub next door that does. These basement brewers can turn out some amazing stuff,” Moynahan said.
In a few minutes the first course arrived. It was a hearty fish soup. The chunks of white fish in a tomato base with herbs melted in your mouth. The flavors made Hammond close his eyes and simply smile as it drifted across his tongue. He looked at Moynahan, whose face was screwed up into a look of sheer ecstasy. He glanced back at Hammond and uttered, “We will come back here again.”
Instead of a regular meal, the next course had a selection of a number of seafood delicacies. There were prawns, bluefish, sea bass, calamari, mussels, octopus, bonito, sturgeon, and red mullet. Each had been arranged almost like a sampler, but cooked to perfection. A salad was also brought and a loaf of hard bread to go with it. For some reason, it all blended perfectly with the beer. As Hammond finished his last bite a fruit salad was brought in for dessert. All along the way they were aware of people staring at them and talking to themselves, but no one interrupted their meal.
It had been a perfect evening. The two men put down their napkins and pushed away from the table and simply sat there for a moment. Mr. Yenel came up. “I hope everything was satisfactory,” he said.
“Mr. Yenel, I have never had such a wonderful meal in such a wonderful place,” said Hammond. “May we have our bill?”
Yenel waived them off. “It is all on us, Admiral.”
Hammond shook his head. “Mr. Yenel, I cannot accept your offer. My country says I cannot take such generous gifts. Please give me the bill and I promise I will come back again and again. You have done more for me tonight than I have experienced since I got here. This,” he said waving across the room, “has reminded me of home and what real people are like. It has let me see what it is really like in Germany. More importantly, it got me away from the things I must endure and let me be just a human being. For that, you have my everlasting gratitude,” he said.
Yenel looked down at the man who was shouldering the entire war effort, yet took the time to be around everyday people. He gave a wink and nodded. “I will return shortly,” he said.
An old man sitting at the next table turned and addressed Hammond. He patted him on the arm. “I wish I had known leaders like you when I was in the war,” he said. “Except for one of my generals, you would have made serving so much better,” he grinned.
“Which general was that?” Hammond asked smiling.
The old man’s face lit up. He patted Hammond’s arm again and gave a wink. “Rommel,” the old man said.
Hammond smiled again. “Then I feel I am in good company,” he said.
The old man laughed. “If I had known, we could have shared a few of the old stories. The young ones have no real idea, but we older men know what is going on. If I may, you are doing well, Admiral. Perhaps someday we will share a meal and tell a few tales. Maybe when they can’t hear I can sing some of the old songs,” he grinned.
Hammond looked at the old man and saw the deep wrinkles of his face and the stress the man experienced long ago. He had survived his war and knew a little about what the new generation was going through. “I would like that a lot, Herr…”
“Straub, Admiral. Erich Straub.”
Hammond took the old man’s telephone number then leaned in close to the old man’s ear. “Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümelein und das heißt: Erika.”
The old man’s face took on a look of surprise. The song was one he had sung as a young man as he marched to war. Few sang it anymore, but the Admiral knew it. A tear came to the old man’s eye and he softly sang along just loud enough for Hammond to hear.
The old marching song had been sung by everyone in the old Wehrmacht. It was not a Nazi song, just a song about the girl back home. Hammond placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder. Looking down in his tear strained eyes he said, “Wir treffen wieder, meine camarade.” (We shall meet again, my comrade.)
The old man got to his feet and took Hammond’s hand. His face broke into a grin. “Maybe better than Herr Rommel,” he said with a sly grin.
Throughout all this, General Moynahan sat and watched in amazement. Not only had it been an amazing evening, but he was discovering a lot of what got Hammond his job. The languages impressed him, but he had a natural way of getting people to like him and do what he wished. He was now even bonding with some old German soldier. To be a part of it all was inspiring.
The bill was paid, but as Hammond left, the old man sprang to attention and clicked his heels together in the old way. The rest of the people in the restaurant saw him and got out of their seats and stood out of respect. They began to applaud. Hammond waved them down. “Please, thank you for letting me have a wonderful evening with you,” he said. They applauded again and didn’t stop until he got in his car and drove away.
Sergeant Erich Straub of the old Waffen SS watched Hammond leave. He was 98 years old, yet still felt the love for his Germany like the old days. He wondered if the young German soldiers felt like he did when he went into the SS in 1942. This Admiral Hammond had made him feel young again. He chuckled to himself. I wonder if he knows the Horst Wessel, he thought.
The ship had been underway for a week and the group had been able to play together for five of the days. They almost never got to have the whole band there. Watches took priority and sometimes, if a member had the mid-watch, you just had to get a couple of hours in the bag. In the end it made no difference. The group got together to play simply because it was fun. Jeffers had been pleased that there was so much talent in the group. All the basics were there and if someone didn’t know the tune, they picked it up quickly enough.
The surprise came on the second day underway when a young medical corpsman came up carrying a square case.
“Would you fellas mind if I tagged along?” the young woman asked in a Southern drawl.
One of the Chiefs looked over at her. “What’s that you got in the case?”
“It’s a little something my grandma passed down to me a few years back. Love playing the thing,” she exclaimed. Flipping up the latches, she pulled out a well-worn autoharp. Everyone could tell the thing had years of use and the way she handled it they could tell she cared for the instrument.
“That ought to fill in some parts real well,” said Chambers as he played a couple of notes on his guitar. “Hope you’re good with that thing,” he said.