Chapter One Thousand Five Hundred Nine
10th September 1962
Seoul, Korea
When Ritchie walked through the gates of the Embassy, he had only the shirt on his back. Everything that could be considered a weapon or might possibly have even the slightest intelligence value had been taken away from the Green Berets who had fallen into the clutches of the German Army. Huck had pointed out that they were lucky that the Germans had abided to the letter of the agreement that had been brokered between them and the US State Department. They had not been subjected to humiliating treatment or had something happen that would affect their futures, such as being photographed and fingerprinted. With all of them being either Commissioned Officers or Noncoms, General Hans von Mischner had saved himself a lot of trouble by just telling everyone that they were his guests until they could be repatriated. His sister Katherine, the one who had brokered the deal had vanished, much to her brother’s apparent annoyance. As strange as it sounded to Ritchie, she commanded the German Special Forces and as Hans put it, at the end of the day, Kat is a cat. She comes and goes as she pleases. The KSK ran smoothly and they all seemed unconcerned by her absence. Hans had commented that he wished that Alt Lutz would have run this past him first. Ritchie had no idea who that was.
The General had not been what any of them were expecting. Intelligence had said that he had joined the Army when his athletic career had not panned out. They had read Footballer and heard that he was a big man, so everyone had assumed that meant that he was like a Linebacker or something. What that had really meant was that he had been a Soccer player and while he tall, he was built more like a long-distance runner. Hans came across like an easy-going guy, but the presence of Sergeant-Major Schultz at his right hand spoke volumes. The fact that he kept control of someone like that suggested that there was a side to him that Ritchie knew he didn’t want to tangle with. That proved especially true when Ritchie learned that Jost Schultz was the older brother of that Marine General that had caused them so much trouble months earlier and if the scuttlebutt was true, had taken the Chinese city of Andong, then burnt it to the ground.
The Jarheads guarding the gate were a different story. They found the whole thing hilarious and it was the first clue as to what the 1st SFG would be on the receiving end of over the coming days.
Sinuiju, Korea
Across the river, the city was still smoldering. It had hardly been Tilo’s intention to torch the city. Just after three Divisions of Marine Infantry had fought their way through it followed by the 13th Army things were already a mess. When the fire had started, there had been no one there to fight it. There were also rumors that their counterparts in the Korean Navy had come ashore when everyone’s attention was directed elsewhere and had settled some old scores. The name of Andong itself was in reference to subjugating the East, meaning Korea. The Koreans had hardly shed a tear over that city’s destruction.
With the war shifting towards the negotiating table Andong, what was left of it, was something that they were prepared to give back to the Chinese in order to secure the peace that was being brokered by the League of Nations. What that meant was that tomorrow Tilo would return to Nancy and kids, life would start to go back to normal, or at least as normal as it had ever been for him.
“The Marine Infantry have never had a Generalfeldmarschall” Reier said, interrupting Tilo’s thoughts. “You might be the first Kid.”
“Don’t be stupid” Tilo said, “The Marine Infantry is only five Divisions, two of which are Reserves, odds are I’ll be sent back to the Third after getting busted down in rank to restore order to the Navy.”
“Perhaps” Reier said, “But the next time the balloon goes up, they’ll need a Theater Commander and it will be Generaloberst von Schultz, it’s a very short leap to Field Marshal.”
“What’s this von bullshit?” Tilo asked, slightly offended that Reier would suggest such a thing. Entirely too respectable.
Mitte, Berlin
“It is a sideways move” Her Mother had said, “Having you not always working directly for me will probably be better for both of us.”
Zella’s article about the plight of internally displaced Korean refugees had been submitted to The Mirror, a weekly news magazine that was a companion to the BT and was going to run in the upcoming edition. The magazine’s Editor was interested in speaking with Zella when she was available.
It was a bit of a relief because once again, Zella had been late getting back to University and would be living at home until a place in the dormitory opened up. Anything that helped maintain the peace between Zella and her Mother would be very welcome. Word had also arrived from Soren Yount that true to his word he had arranged for her motorcycle to be slipped onto a transport plane that was bound for Berlin in a couple days. Provided that it was intact when it got to Zella, then she figured that her luck had finally turned.