The man kneeling before them with his back to them winced slightly as he heard the two men talking about him. He was so weak and emaciated that he could barely maintain his balance. His eyes were blank and it was clear that the man would die soon if he wasn’t helped, which wasn’t likely. They were in a room in a newly dug cave in the heart of the redoubt and it was cold.
Hahn laughed. “An apt description, Private. Now, specifically what kind of shit do you observe?”
Gruber walked around the man, who barely moved except to shiver from the damp and cold and fear. “From his clothing, or the rags he is wearing, it is obvious that he came from a camp. My guess is Dachau, since we are moving so many of those inmates here to work.”
“What is this man’s crime, Private?”
Gruber glared at the offending prisoner. “He has a pink triangle sewn on what’s left of his uniform. This means he is a homosexual. He is a fag, a queer. He is almost as bad as a Jew.” Gruber looked puzzled. “Sir, is it possible that he is both a queer and a Jew?”
“No. The camp administration ranks crimes and nothing is more serious than being a Jew. Even if he was a Jew and a queer, he would be wearing the yellow emblem. Now, what do we do with shit like him?”
“Send him to the gas chambers, I would hope, sir.”
Does everyone know about the gas chambers and the death camps? wondered Hahn. “Have you ever killed for the Reich?”
“To my sorrow, no.”
Well-spoken lad, Hahn thought. There was no braggadocio about having killed hordes of Soviets. “Could you? Could you kill someone who was right in front of you and someone whose face you could see?”
Gruber began to understand the game. “If it was a piece of subhuman shit like this queer, I would do it in a heartbeat.”
Hahn gave the boy a Luger. “Then do it.”
The boy took the pistol, smiled and walked over to the prisoner. He put it to the back of the man’s head and fired. The sound echoed in the cave. The bullet entered the prisoner’s skull and blew out his forehead, splattering brains and blood on the earthen floor. For an incredible few seconds, the dead prisoner continued to kneel, but then collapsed soundlessly. Gruber looked shocked at what he had done and Hahn thought the boy would vomit. That would hardly disqualify him, however. Even the best got sick the first time they killed. He had. Instead, the boy fought for control and won.
Gruber calmly handed back the Luger. “Do you want me to clean it for you, sir?”
“No thank you, Private. I prefer to clean my weapons myself. Now, do you still want to join my elite new force?”
The boy smiled. “I want to be a Werewolf, sir. More than anything else, I want to fight for the Reich and kill the enemies of the Fuhrer.”
“And what if the Fuhrer is dead, killed in the battle for Berlin?”
Gruber’s eyes welled up. His lips quivered as he blinked back the tears. “Then I will fight for whoever follows him. I always knew that Adolf Hitler was mortal. I just didn’t think his end would come so soon. It’s all the fault of the communists and Jews.”
Hahn smiled. Gruber was one of several dozen like him whose fanatical devotion to Hitler and their vision of Germany made them volunteer to be Werewolves. All were young men who were either in their early teens or looked like they were. They’d known nothing more all their lives then to worship their one true god, Adolf Hitler. They all swore that they would be willing martyrs for their god. Hahn stroked the star-shaped red scar on his cheek. He thought that martyrdom was stupid, but if it helped Germany, he would utilize the foolish martyrs.
“Private Gruber, congratulations, you are now a Werewolf. The sergeant outside will send you to your new quarters. Oh, and please tell him to send in some other prisoners to clean up this mess.”
CHAPTER 5
The return to Vogelgrun was done much more carefully and surreptitiously. Even though the land beyond the Rhine had been bombed and shelled several times since they’d been blasted out of their hotel observation post, they were taking no chances.
The hotel that Tanner and the others had used as an observation post had been reduced to a charred pile of rubble. Tanner, Hill, and a squad of infantry dug in the old-fashioned way, with shovels and grunts. The ground was soft and they soon had a decent narrow trench that would protect them from anything but a direct hit. Or so they hoped. They also hoped that the partly cloudy night had protected them from curious eyes.
Hill reached over and tugged on Tanner’s sleeve. “Captain, what are those silly boys doing?” Two men with bulky equipment on their backs had moved to the riverbank.
“Sergeant, they are going to swim the Rhine underwater. Or at least they’re going to try it. That tanks on their backs contain oxygen that will enable them to breathe underwater. Two French guys thought of it a couple of years ago. They’re called aqualungs.”
“Jeez, Captain, you mean the French actually once had a good idea?”
“Be nice, Sergeant. Those two men are Army Rangers who’ve been trained on the equipment. They are going to try and take a thin line across, anchor it, and return. We can then attach heavier cables and use the cable as a pulley to get good sized rafts to the other side.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Yep. If the Krauts don’t shoot them, they might freeze to death in the water. I was told they’ve stuffed their waterproof suits with anything that’ll insulate them and even greased their bodies like Gertrude Ederle did when she swam the English Channel twenty years ago. If the Rangers survive their crossing, they’re going to do a little bit of scouting, but just a little. Their primary purpose is to bring back that cable so we can send over a raft.”
“Why don’t they use a snorkel? I’ve used something like that back home.”
“I don’t know, Hill, and you ask too many questions. Maybe because they can stay underwater longer and deeper or maybe they just wanted to try out the equipment in truly wretched conditions.”
Hill’s nod was barely visible in the darkness. “Sounds like the Army.”
Lights were forbidden, including smoking. To the enemy, it was hoped that the American side of the Rhine was calm and placid. They tried to watch the swimmers’ progress, but gave up. They thought they could see bubbles, but maybe it was just something in the river, debris or a fish. Tanner had been told that uncharted debris could kill a swimmer and the Rhine was filled with it.
“I think they’re across,” Hill said softly. “Do they have radios?”
“No. It was decided they’d weigh them down and we couldn’t fully waterproof them anyhow. We’ll know when they return.” If they return, he thought.
After an hour they were getting concerned. Another and they were sick with worry. The thin cable attached to the American side was no help. Sometimes it was slack and sometimes it was tight. Finally, they sensed a disturbance by their side of the riverbank and first one and then the second Ranger crawled ashore. Tanner, Hill, and a couple of other American soldiers crawled to them and helped them into the trench. They removed the men’s masks. They were gasping and their faces were blue. One of them did, however, have the cable tied to his belt.
They helped the men out of their bulky and insulated swimming suits and helped warm them by wrapping them in multiple layers of blankets. A little medicinal brandy aided the thawing process as well.
“Great job, guys. You’ll get a medal.”
One had recovered from his ordeal. “You can keep the medal, sir. I just want to get fucking warm. I don’t think my balls will ever thaw out.”
Tanner grinned. “Maybe we can get some nice nurse to massage them for you.”
“As long as it’s a girl, sir, that’d be wonderful. Now, if you’re wondering what we saw across the river, the answer is simple-not much. The riverbank hid our view. It would have been too difficult to climb out since we were slowly dying. That and our orders were to concentrate on anchoring the cable, which we did. An elephant couldn’t pull that thing out.”