“Just before your father left he gave us an order. Go out and rebuild Germany into a great nation again, he said. Your country’s greatness wasn’t in its war making ability, but in the quality of its people. Go out and build it in the right way, he said.” The older man reached into his pocket, produced a handkerchief and blew his nose. “You see all these men?” he asked. “They followed their orders,” he said with a tear in his eye.
Eric could see the pride the man had in what they all had done. He was right. Each of the men had settled somewhere and made their homes a better place. Some had stayed in Austria and some returned to Germany, but all had made a positive contribution. He also saw the pride the men had in both their Major and his father. He could tell that if either called, the rest would come running. Eric felt pride that his father could instill such feelings in others.
“Now I see your father has also come back!” the man exclaimed. “Together we shall build a greater Europe,” he said, slapping him on the back again as he rose and went over to another man.
By 10:30 pm the party began to break up, mostly because some of the men had to return to Germany and their homes. By that time, Eric had made sixteen new friends.
Chapter 4
Property Values
Dietz had been surprised to find that the property Anderson wanted had never left government hands. After a quick helicopter trip, the existence of the house had been verified and the property surveyed and registered. The Austrian government thought no one would ever want any land on the peaks and saw the American’s purchase as a foolhardy act at best. No one knew of any house on the land, only a lake. A deed of sale was arranged along with the transfer of $250,000 American dollars, the world’s strongest currency. It had taken four months.
Al Anderson and his wife flew back to Innsbruck to take ownership of his new property and so he could finally inspect it with his own eyes. He, Dietz and a helicopter pilot flew to the site. Like before, a mist shrouded the entire valley and the pilot was unsure of trying to land. But as he hovered, the turbulence caused the mist to part and he was able to land on the large concrete patio next to the house. After making sure the concrete wasn’t going to break, the engine was shut down and the men got out. Almost immediately the mist covered them again.
“No wonder people thought this was just a lake. This mist hides everything,” Anderson said. As the pilot checked a few things Dietz moved towards the house.
“There’s a path to the house over here. I can see a back door,” Dietz said.
Carrying a crowbar and three flashlights he had purchased in town, Anderson joined Dietz and they began walking down the path. By now, the snows were gone and everything was green and lush. A dingy moss covered wall came into view. There were no windows. The door had signs of rust all along the edges and in spots. Dietz knocked on the door and it rang out slightly. “Steel door,” he said. He grabbed the handle and tried to pull it open. The door didn’t budge. “I doubt we shall get in from here,” he said.
“Let’s head to the front then,” Anderson said pointing toward a place where there were two ruts going around the house. On this side there were shuttered windows higher up on the wall on two levels. The men couldn’t reach the lower windows and continued their trek until they reached the front of the house. The wall there had a couple of windows beside a large double wooden door. A road led from the door back through some woods out of sight.
To everyone’s surprise, the large doors creaked open with some effort from the three men revealing a courtyard and the rest of the house. The outer walls were about twenty feet thick. Inside the wall a courtyard led to the main entrance to the house. Like before, the windows were shuttered. To the right along the wall were what looked like four wooden garage doors. To the left were a couple of smaller doors with steps and a double line of shuttered windows. The courtyard had once been covered with white pebbles, but the weeds and grasses had grown through it making a grassy lawn.
“Let’s see what’s in the garage,” said Anderson.
The men walked to the first set of doors. They would move, but appeared to have a lock on the inside. Anderson chuckled and jammed the crowbar into the gap and gave a heave. The dry rotted wood parted and the doors opened. Sitting in the garage space was an ancient looking black Mercedes. It was a convertible whose top was rotted and in some places hanging down. Peering through the windows, the leather upholstery looked pristine and the black paint and chrome shown through the layers of dust. There was a tag on the front showing IIA-19357.
“Isn’t this something,” said Anderson.
“I believe this is a Mercedes 770 Model. I haven’t seen anything like this since the war,” Dietz said in amazement. “It looks almost as if it could be started and driven off.”
“You see these others?” asked the pilot.
In a second bay was an old Rolls Royce Phantom II cabriolet. It too was covered in a haze of dust. But the grey sides and black top shined through. The final car was somewhat of a surprise. It was a Volkswagen.
The men walked around the Rolls and peered at the small car. It was painted a dull black with a split back window. The interior was brown and the tag read IIIA-42802. Anderson reached for the handle and pulled the door open. Sitting in the seat he saw the same familiar instruments with one exception, there was a large German eagle with a swastika where the storage pocket would be. When he closed the door his ears popped.
Getting back out of the car, Anderson rubbed his hand through the dust, taking off almost a quarter of an inch. “They’ve been here a while,” he said.
“These are museum pieces,” exclaimed Dietz. “With a little work you will have some show cars,” he said.
Anderson nodded. “I might keep them. I like these things. Maybe I’ll get a chauffeur to drive me around in them,” he said with a chuckle.
“People would talk,” kidded Dietz.
“Let’s check out the house,” Anderson said as he closed the door. The men made their way out of the garage and to the front door of the house. The large door had dry rotted badly and when he grabbed the knob, it came off in Anderson’s hand.
Opening the door, they stepped into another world. There was a glass entry way, framed in wood, to act as a weather barrier. The second door opened freely into a large cavernous hall made of stone. At the far end was a huge stone fireplace with glassed double doors on either side leading to a covered patio. Lining the room were columned stone arches. To the right was a large dining room filled with what appeared to be a highly polished table. To the left was a hallway leading to other rooms. The floors were made of the same stone as the walls. In front of the fireplace was a set of leather furnishings including two couches, some end tables and lounge chairs. The tables had electric lamps on them. Light was entering the room from a row of glass windows high up in the vaulted ceiling.
The men were amazed. “Just a lake, huh,” Anderson said to the men.
“How could this even be here?” asked the pilot who had already decided he would sneak back to the place later on for his own exploration.
“I doubt anyone even knew this place existed,” said Dietz.
“Must have been some sort of private home,” said Anderson. “But why desert something like this?” he asked.