Tanner laughed. “It’s always been as if I never had a first name. Everybody who knew me always called me Tanner. I would be very happy if that’s what you did.”
“Then Tanner it is, Tanner. Except when we are on duty and then I will remember your rank.” She looked around again. The not so distant mountains were sharply visible. “And I did not come with you just for the chance at some really good food, although that did help. I think you wanted to know me better and I felt the same way. Or am I being too forward and European.”
“I think you’re being just great.”
He also thought she looked great. Instead of the semi-military uniform she normally wore, she’d somehow scrounged up a white blouse and a full blue skirt that still showed enough of her shapely legs. She’d mentioned that she’d liked dancing and it showed in her lean muscles. Now that she no longer was a refugee, she no longer looked like one. She had a lovely trim and proportioned figure. He was also pleased that, unlike many European women, she did shave her legs. With her dark hair, it might have looked very strange to an American. She had no stockings. Few women did. She had attracted a lot of attention when he’d picked her up at the tent she shared with seven other women and drove her in a jeep to the picnic site.
“Someday I would like to go back to Prague,” she said wistfully.
“I don’t know if I can help, but I’ll try. You may have to wait a while. The Red Army is still setting up shop and things could be nasty until they really get the place under control.”
She leaned over and patted his arm. “I understand. I really do rather doubt that my father is even alive, much less waiting for me in Prague. Still, I would like to find out what I can.”
“Understood.” She had told him that Father Shanahan was going to use the Red Cross to help, but there was no Red Cross setup that she knew of in Prague. He wished that she hadn’t let go of his arm. God, he was again acting like a kid and he had the feeling she knew it and was laughing at him.
The day became evening and they talked about life, their pasts, and whatever futures they thought they might have or wanted. He already thought he knew the details of her life before the war and as a slave with the Schneiders, but she elaborated. She held his hand tightly while she told him, purging herself and crying a little. He wanted to kill the Schneiders, but she said no. The Schneiders were not worth it.
He drove her back to the tent where a couple of her other tent mates were lounging and trying not to stare.
“Come with me,” she said taking his arm and leading him to the tent. She stopped and looked in. “Both of you, out of here,” she said laughing.
A few seconds later, a pair of women came out, stared and smiled at Tanner. Lena took his hand and led him into the tent. The heat was stifling. “Have you ever seen anything quite so grand?”
Eight cots were set up in no apparent order. Clothes were strewn about and duffle bags hung from hooks. A bra lay on one cot. He asked if it was hers and she laughingly said no. “I am not a slob. All my things are put away.”
“You are right, though, Lena, this is truly magnificent.”
She didn’t bother to smile. She simply slipped into his arms and they kissed. The first one was most pleasant, even tender. The next few were much more passionate. She pulled away but kept smiling broadly.
“While it’s tempting, dear Tanner, I am not going to make love to you on an army cot with seven other women hanging around.”
He kissed her on the forehead and hoped that his erection would go down so that he could get to the jeep without drawing too much attention. “I will work on it. Maybe I will find you a palace for rent in Innsbruck.”
* * *
Ernst Schneider entered the small apartment he shared with his wife and their two grown children. At least he lived in the sunshine of Bregenz and not in a cave like so many others were forced to. He couldn’t decide if he felt foolish or terrified. His wife did not share his indecision.
“Good lord, Ernst,” she gasped, “what is that you have and what have you gone and done?”
“This is a Panzerfaust,” he announced proudly, holding out the several foot long tube-shaped device. “It is a tank killer and I am now a captain in the Volkssturm and this is one of the two weapons I’ve been issued. The other is an old Mauser rifle and they gave me a few dozen rounds of ammunition.”
“But why?” Gudrun asked. “Have things gotten so bad that the Reich has to enlist older civilians and men who are veterans of the first war?”
“I am not old,” he sniffed. “I am barely forty. And if I can help defend our country, I will do exactly that. The army is considering drafting men as young as our Anton.”
Gudrun rose quickly from her chair. Ernst could not help but notice how much spryer she was since she and all the others were now on an enforced diet. She had lost thirty pounds and he twenty. Both Anton and Astrid had also slimmed down. It was almost impossible to find a fat person in Germanica. This had led to numerous jokes about how Herman Goering would look if he had made it to the Third Reich’s last hope.
Gudrun took a deep breath and composed herself. “I did not mean to impugn your manhood, dear. I am just shocked that events have come to this. Wasn’t it just a few months ago that German armies were on the verge of conquering Russia and North Africa and then on to the rest of the world? What has happened?”
Ernst scowled. “The filthy stinking Jews happened, that’s what. The Jews and the communists have taken over this war and that is why it is so important that we win so that we can ultimately destroy them. We started sending them to the camps far too late. Can you imagine what it would be like to live in Germany under the vengeful rule of those people? I will fight, and if necessary, I will die.”
“I hope it won’t come to that,” Gudrun said softly. “I still can’t believe that you would be able to use a Panzerfaust. You’d have to get so close to an American tank for it to be suicide. At least with a rifle you can kill from fairly far away.”
Ernst smiled. He’d already decided that he would not get close to an American tank. He would either fire the thing from a distance or give it to someone else to use, someone young and foolish. “Spoken like a true German woman. By the way, I am considered an officer with the rank equivalent to a captain. Right now I only have a couple dozen men under my command and, yes, some of them are boys, but that will change. I will have more.”
“Just so long as one of them is not Anton. He is still getting over being assaulted by that Jewish bitch. If I ever see her, I will claw her eyes out.”
“If you ever see her, it may well be because the Americans have conquered us. More likely she has gone back to wherever she came from. She was Czech and has doubtless attempted to return home. I believe she once mentioned she was from Prague. The Russians are in Prague and I can only hope they have taken her and are fucking her day and night.”
Gudrun laughed. “You are still quite crude and you always will be, but I am in total agreement with you. Since Anton and Astrid are out working, we are quite alone in this tiny palace. Why don’t you lock the door and we can celebrate your promotion.”
Ernst grinned and they both began to undress. “I hoped you might feel that way so I brought a bottle of schnapps.”
“Only one?” Gudrun asked.
* * *
There was muted uproar in the ready room. To say that the pilots were dismayed was putting it mildly. As usual, George Schafer was one of the more outspoken.
“Nothing personal, Colonel, but what asshole thought of this idea?”
Colonel Trent shook his head tolerantly. Tight discipline did not exist in the air force and each pilot felt he was entitled to speak his piece. “I believe the asshole was from the Pentagon and was routed here by the Eighth Air Force.”
Schafer was not impressed. “That’s a great pedigree, sir, but it doesn’t change the fact that radar bombing in the mountains at night is going to kill a lot of American pilots and one of them might just be me.”