“I don’t get the concept of this ‘sent to the Russian Front’ comment you German Officers keep throwing around.”
“It used to be an inside joke among the soldiers… but with the Battle of Stalingrad, it’s become a reality no one wants to be born in. It''s worse than hearing ''you''re fired'', because it''s really: ''you''re fired, now go and fight bears in the winter tundra.''”
"Hmm. Sounds rough."
"Why is exactly why I use it to scare the pants off of every soldier that stops me from achieving my goal."
It was an cold month in the beginning of 1943. It was indeed the Second World War, where iron planes take to the skies and metal beasts conquer the forest, hills, and deserts of various continents to fight for freedom or supremacy. Regardless of the politics involved in this global warfare, there was a peculiar Staff Car driving down the narrow and winding roads of snow-covered Serbia, carrying the proud markings of the German Iron cross on its side.
The vehicle was a Mercedes-Benz W31. It was a popular mode of transportation that had enough spice and class to ferry members of high ranks in the German Military. They were fondly designated as Staff Cars used by Generals and important Officers in the war. In the beginning of the conflict, more than 57 units were produced anda verypopular choice among the German Wehrmacht. By the end of the War, only three survived. Legend has it one of them was used as a prop vehicle in a certain classic WW2 P.O.W. sitcom, but that could be one’s imaginative thinking.
Sitting inside the car were two people (technically three if you include the driver, but the passenger compartment was sound proofed). One was a member of the Waffen-SS, who had the spirit of a rebel fighter wishing to bring down his own organization and really hated to wear the red armband on his sleeve. The other was a girl who wasn’t too beautiful, neither too attractive, only small and docile to a certain capacity. The best way to describe the female companion of this conversation, was how much she looked like a china cup used for tea parties.
“Frau Tea Cup. I want you to be honest with me.What are the odds that we could free the Serbian rebels and civilians trapped in concentration camps by tough words alone?"
“Zero.”
"Even if I throw my rank as Lieutenant of the Waffen-SS around like some kind of angry Zeppelin?"
"Zero."
“I thought as much. Due to that realization, I have devised several alternative plans in how to help the Serbian prisoners to break free before the SS-Guards plan to execute them.”
“You say that, but you do realize the Nazi Party had slipped in enough of their men from the Gestapo cell agents and political puppets to force its own people to be converted to another religion against their will. Those who refused the party''s indoctrination are sitting in the camp as we speak. Honestly,as much as I am from a Church of Switzerland who specialize in evangelizing our Roman Catholic word, I don’t like forcing others to believe in something they could never agree with.”
“Ignoring this uniform I wear on my body, I concur. That is why I will make it my personal duty as an agent of the Confessing Churchs to see if I could help and avert this tragedy that will be happening in a few days. Those are one of my many goals to finish this accursed war.”
The Staff Car was much like a limousine, albeit shorter. The passenger compartment was covered with rich leather, so rich it was hard to think it came from the hide of cows or oxes. It had various decorative supports that allow officers to have a bottle of champagne or schnapps while they were on the go, maybe to celebrate a victory over the Allies (very rare). There was also a built-in wireless radio communication device, which had direct access to high security compounds in occupied territory to call for armed support or supplies. However, this toll free service was used mostly as a mean to communicate with one’s mistress or mystery woman an officer met at a local hofbrau (a beer garden).
It felt like those who sat in this luxury military transport, were able to forget the worries of the world that rolls by them as if on a scenic tour. This was one of the many reason why Lieutenant Kurt Gerstein of the Waffen-SS chose to work for the Confessing and Switzerland Churches to bring down his own paramilitary group. His goals in Serbia was to bring about an alternate ending, to avoid as much tragedy as his own two hands could change.
“Frau Tea Cup. What do you think of the German Army?”
“I was born and raised in Switzerland. We’ve always been a neutral state since time in memorial. Hence, it should be obvious my answer would be ‘no comment’.”
“We fight for our Fatherland, to bring back the pride we once lost in the First Great War. Yet, we are being dictated by That Man, who has his own personal hatred and agenda. Personally, ever since the day That Man rose to the highest possible position in our government, I knew we would become nothing but puppets for his own goals.”
“………”
“I never liked the Nazi Party. In fact, I only signed up because joining the initial Sturmabteilung (SA) made me cool, like the other young men who had the fire to make a change or difference. I will confess to you, Sister Tea Cup, that I only wore their tacky uniform so no one would bully me anymore.”
“And what happened after that? Did you rise the ranks to a Lieutenant within the Waffen-SS with just those empty ambitions alone?”
“What are you talking about? I got kicked out from the SA ever since I threw anti-Nazi pamphlets to people. I never liked them, the Nazi Ideaology, and I didn''t need to pay attentionin Political Science to know what they represent didn''t make me sit well. So I chose to just defy them to the bitter end... The b@stards.”
“Then?”
“Of course a rebel like me would be kicked out from their ranks. Dishonorable discharge and more than a slap on the wrist. I can still feel the boot mark to my backside, even if this was years ago.”This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“… I’ve heard of the story in the early years of Germany. This tale about the Night of the Long Knives.”
“That Man gave the order to execute over 1 million SA members. His own loyal SA Members who pushed him to the position he sits in now. The removal of ‘hundreds of young thugs that could essentially corrupt the purity of the elite German Army’……. Now that I look back, I got lucky with the boot.”
“Indeed. Even though I am not a nun, I have worked in the church long enough to see everything has been set in place for everyone. Often times, some things is life is God''s will and decision. Rebel or not, there is no need to reject the path of where you go.”
“…………….”
Serbia was a very cold country. Not exactly a winter wasteland, but it was bitter enough to easily freeze over the tracks of tanks or choke up the engines in warplanes by freezing over the fuel. It took great time, cost, and engineering to keep any military units well armed and mobilized, to stay reliable even in wintry tundra such as Serbia or colder places. Not to mention there being too many exotic and dangerous animals, so forest warfare was usually out of the question. Even the roads were long, very narrow. There was not enough space in some regions to allow two cars to pass each other by. Such as the road was wide enough to support one German Staff Car at a time.
“Who was it? The people who turned the guns on your old group? Who pulled the trigger?”
“The same people who wears the same black uniform as the one on my body. The Schutzstaffel SS. Ironically, the first order they received since their service was to remove the SA and take over their position... As much as I disliked the SA, I still lost one too many friends.”
“I am sorry to hear that. Yet you are wearing the same uniform who erased those memories you once held dear.”
“I will confess again, Sister Tea Cup, I joined the Waffen-SS because I was out of work. My discharge from the SA branded me as an outcast, I couldn’t get any work in the labour force as it was all owned by the same organization that kicked me out………. Now that I think back, it’s truly ironic that I was readily accepted by the same people who expelled me. This is a terrible joke.”
“Indeed.”
Inside the Staff Car, there was already several bottles of wine and champagne stored in a hidden cooler. These were ‘prizes’ obtained after the invasion of France, Norway, and even gifts sent by the Fascist Italians during the initial campaigns. Reminders to the officers of the army of their ‘successes’ in their war. That hidden cooler was kicked open. A hand reached down to pull them out one by one.
“I’ve never fired Bethany before. My precious Luger.”
“But?”
“There was a time, where I wished I could use it. And unload my entire clip… if I do that for a good reason, would this be considered violent in God’s eyes.”
“It depends. Kicking a man while he is down could be evil. Yet, if he will rise up and cut your throat, then self-defense means differently. My superiors will be disgusted to hear me say this but, even the bible isn''t black and white.”
“That time, I really wanted to pull the trigger on someone. Every intention of delivering pain and anger to him. Even now, I still regret not following through.”
“If you commited the sin then and there, surely you would have been captured. You knew, you were trapped in a cage that you could not see.”
Lieutenant Kurt Gerstein had his reason why he was considered a rebel among the Waffen-SS. There was a good purpose as to why he set his eyes onto a horizon that no one in the war ever fathomed to achieve, let alone pursue. To destroy the same organization of the uniform he wore… or even the entire army.
“August 18, 1942. I will never forget how I counted the 45 wagons that were carrying more than 6000 people. They were a mixture of races and people of faith that did not sit well with the Nazi Party. Somewhere buried among them, I recognized various German Soldiers of the Werhmacht who were considered traitors in trying to rescue such prisoners… Not everyone arrived alive.”
“…………..”
The girl who wore the nun habit with decorative blue colors that made her resemble a China Cup created in Copenhagan watched as the rebel SS-Officer examined the bottle. It was a vintage wine, made in 1918 in the fields of France, near the meadows of Orleans. It was an expensive bottle, and the German officers procured them by lifting them from the cellar racks after they took over the French nation. Times were hard, and difficutl. Some say, it was a nightmare.
“I saw it.”
A small voice fell hard in passenger compartment of the Staff Car. If possible, it might have cracked the body of the vintage wine bottle in the hands of the SS-Officer.
“They all perished in an instant.”
“…”
“100. 200. 500. Soon, all 6000. They dropped one by one. Like puppets rejected by the puppeteer. The last thing I could bear watching, was how they claw at their throats.”
“…”
“Did you know? The special viewing room that the SS Hauptmann showed me. What he called his ‘private movie room’. Those walls. I knew they were made out of concrete and hard enough metal plating that the man himself could survive a bombing raid by the Allies… They were exactly 5 meters thick… yet… I can hear them clearly…. Help…No more….. Don’t hurt her……… Save my child.”
“…………………Kurt—”
“The worse part of it all… after the melancholy…….. this silence. This heavy silence weighed on me……….. Blrg...HURK!”
“Kurt, You’ve said too much!”
The air in the Serbian country side was cold. A normal officer would consider it an act of a complete idiot to roll down the window to enjoy a bit of fresh air. The temperature was enough to freeze over a man’s nose if they were careless.
That rebel German Officer wearing the black SS uniform could be see reeling down the window of the staff car, and wretching his empty stomach all over the side. He accidently stained the wheels, but the snow erased the evidence of his emberassment.
“…I know what you want to say… I know what you want to do, so… So please… come back to your senses.”
“Uugh…Uuurr…………I’m sorry Fraulein. In the end, no matter how much effort I’ve invested in mending my sins… I still can’t stomach what I’ve seen that day of August 18, 1942……. Honestly, I was wholeheartedly ready to wipe off that idiot Hauptmann’s gleeful smile with my Luger… But, I couldn’t even move my hand.”
“… Please. Don’t push yourself.”
“……………….. Fraulein. Have I made a strong enough confession?”
“Yes. Even though I am not a sister of the cloth, I am still a desk clerk of the holy order. I will validate your confession in place of a priest.”
“… Good. Very good. The uneasiness has subsided… Now, I can think clearly of a sure-fire plan to save the fates of those being held in the Serbian prison camps… I can feel my confidence returning to me.”
Even with the window open, the flood of the chill hair biting at one’s skin, the Lieutenant of the Waffen-SS did not feel cold. A heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders… for now. It will soon comeback to drag his spirits once again, to slow him down on the long road that would bring freedom and redemption to all. Every step he made to this point, had been nothing but lead-laid footing. However.
“Is this the reason why you asked for someone to help you, so you could use someone like me as a crutchto further your goals?”
“I confess to you, Sister Tea Cup. Yes. Despite where my feet are going, my body could never keep up. I really don’t want to fight this bitter war all by myself... I am a man. One man, I know I can''t fight this war all by myself.”
“………. I understand… So take responsibility for dragging me into this senseless war, Mr. German.”
“I shall reflect over my reckless decision, after the war is finished.”
“Sigh.”
The China Cup let out a small sound from her small lips. Regardless of her political or emotional affiliations in this global conflict, her heart remained the same. Neutral as her nation Switzerland… however, that did not stop her from using her own kerchief to wipe away the sorrows of the SS Officer who was confessing his sins in the privacy of a German Staff Car.
“………………………… Fraulein.”
“Yes?”
“If I were to steal these trophy wine from the Generals that own them, and hand them to the nearest beggar I meet in town, would that be a sin?”
“Unless he is a teetotaler. Otherwise, no.”
“Very good, very good.”
And the war to finish the never ending nightmare continues into the long cold and bitter night.