“So what about this superior officer? The one whose vanity you riled.”
“Christ! Are you going to make me recount the entire sorry tale?” It would be laughable, had it not had such tragic consequences, he thought.
“Sure, why not? We have some time to kill, and Schroeder doesn’t expect to hear from us for at least another fifteen or twenty minutes.”
Angst didn’t know why he felt inclined to confide in Wilms, a stranger. He’d not even related the details to Schmidt or Braun, whom he considered friends. “It was during last winter, when the top kick came around the barracks looking for anyone who possessed reasonable typing skills. The clerical pool down at division—most of them had contracted bronchitis. A severe bout was circulating, and headquarters found itself understaffed with so many guys out sick. Some of us from the company, myself included, were sent to fill in temporarily. Any sort of a change was something to look forward to. I wasn’t there long, a couple of days, when Lieutenant Nieheus singled me out. He thought I did a good job, was neat and conscientious. Eventually, he offered me the position as his orderly. His own man had fallen ill and had so far proven to be a disappointment. I accepted, and before long I was reassigned. It wasn’t a bad duty, really, and I was kept on at division, typing reports for the adjutant’s office. Nothing classified, really; it was mostly rosters, schedules, itineraries, and procurements. Of course there was the obligatory boot polishing, laundry, and pressing uniforms. Whenever the lieutenant had use of the colonel’s car, I was assigned to drive him around. Every other week or so, I had to report back to the company for drill, and there were maneuvers now and again, none of it lasting for more than a couple of days. The lieutenant’s duties were broadening not so much at headquarters as outside of it. The colonel had saddled him with assignments that were more of a personal nature. The lieutenant was in good with the colonel, so he told me. He claimed to be liked and trusted, and there was every indication a promotion was due him in the not-too-distant future. What the colonel relied on most was Nieheus’s discretion. You see, the colonel kept a mistress, and there was etiquette to be followed, because he didn’t want some of the other officers within his circle to know about this liaison. A brother-in-law, or maybe it was his wife’s cousin, was on the general staff, so he needed to be very careful. Lieutenant Nieheus scheduled their trysts.”
Wilms scoffed. “Quite a bureaucratic love affair.”
Angst agreed. “The colonel thought he was being very clever. Whenever Nieheus fetched the woman, booked a hotel, or rented a cottage, it gave the appearance that the assignation was his and not the colonel’s. At first Nieheus found the task demeaning and complained of acting as the colonel’s procurer. Despite all the shortages we all had to live with, the lady was kept in a reasonable state of comfort.”
“The colonel was buying her, then. Was she worth it?” Wilms asked eagerly.
“She had her charms, I suppose.”
“So you did meet her.”
“We were never introduced, but I’d seen her often enough. She possessed a certain opulent rapaciousness. I would drive the lieutenant over to the cottage the colonel had secured for her. Whenever he couldn’t get away, due to a last-minute briefing or staff meeting, he’d send the lieutenant over with a little gift of wine or flowers, maybe hosiery. The usual stuff. There was a fair amount of contact between the woman and the lieutenant, once again to fortify the impression that it was his affair. Nieheus had confided the particulars to me early on. He was a strange personality, the lieutenant. Our relationship as orderly and officer was a little unorthodox. He treated me as a chum, more out of circumstance and proximity than from any sort of affection as a friend or acquaintance. He seemed to strive at being liked, thought well of by both fellow officers and subordinates. He was curious, almost perversely so, about my experiences in the Polish and French campaigns and how I earned the IC second class. He confided in me once, and this was surprising from an officer, that he did not think he could suffer the demands of frontline service and considered himself fortunate to be attached to staff. I told him you don’t ever get used to the front, but somehow you learn to deal with it, you find your own way, but he did not think it possible in his own case.”
“All right, I got all that, now what happened?” Wilms fidgeted about and tried to get comfortable as he leaned against the fuselage wall, careful to keep his feet and the radio dry as more water seeped onto the deck.
“Soon it became quite obvious the lieutenant and the lady were having a fling of their own.”
“Sort of a rearguard action, eh?” Wilms’s imagination was at full speed. He waited expectantly to hear more.
“If you want to use a tactical analogy, yes. They would occupy each other for an hour or more, and afterward Nieheus would return to the car, smelling of alcohol and ‘eau de toilette.’ He would then admonish me to remain discreet. ‘A fellow can really move up the line if he uses discretion,’ he would tell me. Ha! The only place it got me was the Russian front. For all I would have known, the two of them could have been sipping tea, only Nieheus had to share his excitement, no matter how meager the details. Not that I cared to hear it.”
“What did he say? Was she a knock-out in bed?”
“Nothing too explicit, only that she was rather promiscuous and was easily bored.”
“So, infatuated as he was by the lady’s charms, your lieutenant became reckless.”
“Actually, no. Nieheus sampled the dish only when the opportunity afforded itself. He never pined over her or dreamt up transparent excuses to drive over to the cottage. It went on like this for several months, once or twice a week. The colonel found out, eventually.”
“How was that possible, if your lieutenant was such a model of discretion?” Wilms asked.
We are dead men, Angst, dead men. The sound of the lieutenant’s mournful voice echoed in Angst’s ears as he thought back to that time. Wilms had grown impatient with the silence. “Did the mistress give him away?”
“I don’t know how the colonel found out. Maybe she wanted to hurt the colonel for one reason or another, and during a lover’s quarrel, it slipped out. Or the lieutenant might have confided in a fellow officer. If he did, any tittering and sidelong glances would soon end, once the word got around that Nieheus and his orderly were sent packing to the eastern front.”
“I bet it was her that blabbed. Rubbed the colonel’s nose in it, just to show him who was boss in their little arrangement.” If Wilms harbored any suspicions about women of easy virtue, they were now confirmed. He appeared triumphant with his assumption, but he was also disappointed. The story lacked the smutty details and crudeness to make it memorable and worth repeating. “Maybe you were destined for Russia, Angst, either way. Not that it’s any consolation, but the way this war’s going, your colonel and the whole division will end up here sooner or later.”
No, it isn’t a consolation, Angst thought. He looked at his watch. “You had better report in.”
Wilms put on the earphones, flipped the transmit switch, and spoke into the mike. “Out distance calling Sundial, come in, over…this is out distance calling Sundial, do you read me, over…” This continued for several minutes without any response. “That’s odd. I could send and receive fine at the last check-in.”
“We’re not out of range, are we?”
Wilms shook his head and played with the dial in an effort to try another frequency. Angst took up the binoculars and refocused. The mist had become even denser, and except for a gray void, there was nothing to see. The wind had died down, and the sudden stillness and gathering dusk made for an eerie effect.