Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread II

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Seven


2nd June 1960

Tempelhof, Berlin

Kiki got the worst of the dried mud off her flak vest before she put it in her locker. It wasn’t like the rest of her uniform that she could just throw in the washing machine.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Vanesa asked.

Kiki closed the padlock on the locker that she kept in her dorm room. She was fighting fatigue as she tucked the chain that had the key to her locker and her two identity disks down the front of her Hertha jersey. She didn’t have the energy to explain this to Vanesa. Kiki had just stepped out of the shower and only wanted to get as much sleep as she could before she had to be up in the morning.

“Couldn’t you go off and just be a Princess” Vanesa said, “Look pretty in front of the cameras, sit on a beach and cause scandals or something.”

Kiki gave an exasperated sigh. “That is not a good life” She said.

“Perhaps” Vanesa said, “But having you staggering in looking half dead, that gun and knife. That all seems extreme.”

The pistol and karambit were secured in the locker, they had been in there for months and Vanesa had said nothing. Why now? The other weapons were in the armory in Potsdam. God only knew how Vanesa would react if she brought those around. Instead, Vanesa watched every evening as Kiki came back from her training sessions with Kat and as had been drilled into her head, saw to her equipment first.

“I don’t want to be dead weight wherever they send me over the summer” Kiki said, “And I cannot expect others to protect me.”

“I just wanted to let you know how crazy your actions seem to everyone else” Vanesa said.

“Then it’s a good thing that everyone else is not anyone I feel I need to answer to” Kiki replied.

“We have to live with you” Vanesa said, “Ever thought of that?”

“Well, duh” Kiki replied, “Why do you think that I keep everything locked up?”

Vanesa clearly didn’t like that answer, but Kiki was beyond caring. Tomorrow, she had classes and there were important examinations that were only a few weeks away that would gain her certification as a Field Medic. There was too much to do and time was running so short. Caring about what her peer group thought would be wasting time she didn’t have. Getting into bed Kiki was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.


Indianapolis, Indiana

Entering the convenience store, Robert Bryant saw the headlines of the newspaper in the rack next to the door.

President Announces China-Korea Peace Initiative, U.S. to entice nations to mediation.

Below it was a photograph of the President behind the podium in what was presumably the White House. Below the photograph was a quote from his announcement.

“The World has seen enough war this century to last it three, let’s end this cycle of violence before it starts anew.” -President A. Harriman.

Robert wished the President luck in his efforts to bring peace to Asia. He just wished there was more peace to be found here on the streets of Indianapolis as he walked through the store. It was typical of stores found everywhere. Selling mostly beer, cigarettes and candy. It did have a small selection of groceries for those too lazy to go to an actual grocery store and number of items behind the counter that more respectable establishments wouldn’t sell. Girly magazines, condoms and the like.

As an experienced Homicide Detective, Robert knew an open and shut case when he saw one. Still, he was required to treat like any other homicide and investigate the matter like if it involved the corpse of someone who he didn’t already know. In this case it was the body was of a young man who was well known to the Indianapolis Police Department having spent half his life behind bars and seeming to break every single law on the books when he was out. Presently he was sitting with his back against the glass of a cooler full of beer with an expression of surprise frozen on his face and three bullet holes in his chest. The blood that was pooled around him would be a real mess for someone to clean up.

“The owner said that he was closing out the day when Chucky here bursts in and tries to stick up the place” Sam, Robert’s partner, said, “He’d been stuck up before and had a .38 behind the counter just in case. Turns out that Chucky was bluffing and didn’t have a gun, just a carrot of all things in his pocket.”

“How did the owner take learning that?” Robert asked.

“He’s kind of torn up about it” Sam replied.

“He shouldn’t be” Robert said, “Chucky was a two-time loser who going to die this way or in prison. All he did was spare the taxpayers a great deal of future expense.”

“I know that, and you know it too” Sam said, “But the owner, he doesn’t.”

Robert just shrugged, that’s life. Better to have a dead skell like Chucky for the Coroner to take to the morgue than a dead store owner. Robert knew full well that if Chuck Manson had been the one with the gun then that was exactly how it would have turned out.

“The owner also demanded to know what the Hell he’s paying us for if shit like this keeps happening” Sam said.

“Remind him that we’re Homicide and tell him to take it up with Patrol” Robert replied. What was the World coming too where the store owner would have the balls to make a comment like that?

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Seven


15th June 1960

Tempelhof, Berlin

“You’ve worked hard over the last several weeks and shown a lot of improvement” Kat had said, “So you can either come with me to meet my niece or you can be smart and get some sleep this afternoon but that is all that is happening. Consider it a reward.”

That was what Kat had told Kiki before she had gotten in her car and drove off with Douglas. Minutes later Kiki was sitting at the kitchen table in Kat’s house still unsure what to do. That was when a basket of potatoes and turnips was dropped in front of her. She was startled by that.

“If a foolish girl is looking for something to do then I am more than happy to help, those need to be peeled and cleaned” Petia said sharply in Russian. Kiki noticed that Marie was looking at her with a smirk on her face. Kat’s children would learn early that looking at loose ends around the Housekeeper was asking for exactly this to happen.

As Kiki picked up the knife, she recalled that she had lived in this house herself for a long time. She should have known that this might happen. Perhaps Kat was right, she needed to sleep and time to regain her bearings. Listening to Petia argue with Serhiy in the manner that they had for years was oddly comfortable. Serhiy and his wife Julia were the household staff along with Noella who minded the children.

After a spell of peeling potatoes, Jo joined her. Kiki had always had trouble getting a read on the girl. She seemed to be devoid of color and that extended to her personality as well.

“Did you do anything fun for your birthday?” Kiki asked, knowing that Jo had turned fourteen just a couple weeks earlier.

“We had a party here” Jo said as she reached for another turnip, “Just a few friends from school and family. It was all I wanted.”

They continued peeling for a time when Kiki felt something cold touch her arm. Looking down she saw Fleur, the little dog that was very much a part of Kat’s family. Marie had told Kiki over the Easter Holiday that she wanted a kitten, Kiki was certain that Fleur would have a great deal to say about that in the unpleasant ways that dogs made their opinions known. Absurdly, Fleur thought that Kiki had food. With that, Tatiana and Malcolm walked in and joined the argument about the food that was being prepared for dinner that night.

As Kiki sat in the boisterous household, she realized that far more than sleep, this is what she needed.


Wunsdorf-Zossen

When Kat had called Petia she learned that Kiki was joining the children for dinner that night. Regardless of what Kiki tried to present to the world, she still wanted the comforts of home and family. It was one of the few things that Kiki had done lately that Kat didn’t have a quibble with. It had been difficult for her not to tell Kiki that she was a stupid and naïve child. That her idealism would only bring her pain if it didn’t get her killed.

Kiki had no idea that at the top of German Military there were changes to the leadership that were coming because Emil von Holz was basically out the door already. It was only a few weeks from becoming official. The new leadership would be looking to prove themselves for political reasons. Kat’s source within the High Command had said that many of them felt that the crisis in Korea could just be the opportunity that they were looking for to do just that. If that happened, Kiki would not be sent to Vietnam to care for orphans as she and her friends joked. Instead she would get sent to Korea and because of what Kat was starting to feel were her misguided efforts years earlier, no one would have a problem sending a girl like Kiki into what would probably be the sort of meatgrinder not seen since the Soviet War ended. All Kat could do was do her best to prepare Kiki to survive. She had made the lessons as difficult as possible hoping that it would cause Kiki to quit, it hadn’t worked.

It also directly affected Kat’s family and her closest friends. Hans was unlikely to be deployed as he was currently in the General Staff supervising the Heer’s training, Helene didn’t say it aloud, but she was relieved by that outcome. Gerta wasn’t so fortunate. As one of the leading Generals in the Panzer Corps, Kurt was expecting an order to prepare for movement to arrive at any time.

It was Tilo Schultz who was in the most difficult situation. Nancy was seven months pregnant and the Marine Infantry was talking about giving him a series of crash promotions because they wanted a proven, effective leader in charge of the 3rd Marine Infantry. He also spoke Korean and Japanese. On paper he was perfect, however he didn’t want to leave Nancy. Her brother Stefan led a Company in the 140th Regiment and if the Heer deployed to the Far East again, he would be in the vanguard. He and Nizhoni had just welcomed Elke Nina Sháńdíín Mischner-Horst, the name a nod to both the little girl’s grandmothers and her great-grandmother in distant Arizona. Her thoughts interrupted when Nizhoni handed Kat her newest niece.

“My hope was that along with your parents, I could leave world a better place for you” Kat whispered to Elke who was staring at her with eyes she didn’t quite know how to focus yet. “It looks like I was wrong.”

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Eight


15th July 1960

Tempelhof, Berlin

“I wish to congratulate all of you who have made it this far” The Instructor said, “The certifications will be placed in your file. Please come to front to collect the patch and pin that you have earned. Your orders will also be given to you and I wish you luck in the future.”

And with that, two years of hard work was over.

Kiki didn’t know what she was expecting, but that seemed rather anticlimactic. Walking to front of the lecture hall Kiki was handed a silver pin that was to go on the blue beret that was worn by those in the Medical Service, a silver wreath with the Staff of Asclepius. The patch was similar except it didn't have the wreath and was to be sewn onto the sleeve of the field uniform of a Medic. When Kiki saw the one that she had been handed, she saw that an obvious mistake had been made. It was edged with a twisted cord.

“Sir” Kiki said to her Instructor once she had gotten his attention, “There is a problem here, this one is for a Noncommissioned Officer.”

The Instructor looked at her, like if she was this unexpected specimen in a jar that had been left out.

“Your volunteerism, dedication and the additional training that you have been doing to address your deficiencies in your off hours has not gone unnoticed” The Instructor said, “Besides that, what did you expect was going to happen if you went for nearly two years without having to be disciplined over anything of note?”

“Excuse me Sir?” Kiki asked, wondering what he was getting at.

“You get promoted Fraulein Fischer” The Instructor said, “Even if you hadn’t already been accepted into the War Academy next term you would be an Unteroffizer. Anything else?”

“No” Kiki replied as he looked through the file folder on his desk before pulling out several sheets of paper.

“For you, Fraulein Fahnenjunker” He said, handing them to her. “Your uniform had best reflect your new rank as soon as possible.”

As Kiki read through the pages and saw that she had been assigned to the 6th Marine Infantry Regiment based in Pusan, Korea. The remainder were travel documents that would take her to Korea by military transport via Cuxhaven. That was not what she was expecting at all. Kiki was getting sent to the Marines and Zella and Aurora were going to laugh their heads off. They had joked that Kiki was getting sent to care for children for a long time. It seemed that the unruly children in question were going to be bigger and older than Zella and Aurora had realized.


Over the North Pacific

They had been given only a few hours to get their things together once the ink was dry on the agreement with China. Pack your gear and get on the plane was what they had been told. Jonny had had just shrugged and that this was what they had signed up for. Then it was onto a transport plane for a long flight across the country, a brief stop-over at Travis Airforce Base in Northern California and then an even longer flight across the Pacific.

Hours into the last leg of the flight, sitting in the cargo hold of an Airforce transport plane. Ritchie could only think of what he would love to say to the moron who thought that an inward facing bucket seat made of aluminum was a good idea. Having Mullens snoring loudly on one side of him and smelling Huck Spooner’s farts on the other were things that he could have easily lived without.

Jonny had come through during the weeks between when Ritchie had gotten back from California and had arranged a promotion of sorts. From Corporal to Specialist, 2nd Class. It was a move that was not quite upwards, something like the Technician 4th Grade rank that Jonny said that he had held years earlier in Mexico before it had been abolished shortly after that conflict had ended. It was a way to give Ritchie the pay and authority of a Sergeant without upsetting the balance of power within the Squad itself. The sort of authority that would be critical to the mission in the months ahead.

It also happened to be the same rank that Huck Spooner held. That got Ritchie a lot of ribbing from the others when it was announced because of that. Everyone wanted to know if Ritchie would spend his days fiddling with radios the way that Huck did. The truth was that it had everything to do with that damned cannon that he hated so much that was stowed with the rest of their gear.

It was the thought of that need for authority that brought Ritchie’s thoughts around to the absurdity of the mission. For ages the 1st SFG had thought that they could expect to be sent to places south of the Rio Grande. It was shy they had gone out of their way to recruit Spanish speakers into their ranks. Instead, they were getting sent to China. They might as well be Martians landing in Beijing for all the knowledge that they had of China’s language and culture. Only Jonny had any experience on the ground there and it was as a part of an auto race that he had participated in with Whiskey Parker a few years earlier. Jonny had said that they had done it mostly on a lark and because of the low requirements for entry in what was an inaugural race they had been able to drive across the China and Russia on the cheap. Also, they had considerable bragging rights because they had made one Hell of race there at the end in Berlin. He’d even shook the German Kaiser’s hand after coming in second place by a fraction of a second after driving thousands of miles.

That seemed exactly like the sort of thing that Jonny would do.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Nine


16th July 1960

Potsdam

Forty-one years, that was the final tally. Except for when he had gone back to University, Emil had spent his entire adult life in either the Heer or the Luftwaffe. Now the State was making a big production of him getting shown the door as possible by performing the Großer Zapfenstreich in his honor. The Emperor and Crown Prince were present tonight, so the Staff Band and Drum Corps had gone out of their way to make this memorable. Not to mention hundreds of torchbearers from various units from the Heer and Luftwaffe-Fallschirmjäger who Emil had been a part of over his long career.

Emil would have preferred that they had spared the expense and just let him leave quietly. If his replacement, Generaloberst Johann von Kielmansegg, wasn’t required to be here and he would probably be in Emil’s office measuring the drapes at that very moment. Claus von Stauffenberg, the Deputy Commander in Chief of the Military High Command was elsewhere. He had been passed over for the top spot this time and as rumor had it, he had not taken it particularly well but was to much of the proper gentleman to reveal that in a public setting. Oddly, it was that aristocratic demeanor that had cost him, he just wasn’t as good at the political game that anyone who aspired to be the Chief of the High Command needed to be. Not that it mattered to Emil, after tonight the monstrous egos of his subordinates would be someone else’s problem.

Maria was here and she had even agreed not to come as a Reporter for the Berliner. Not that she didn’t know that the paper would have one or two of their other people covering the event. If anything, she was probably the one who assigned them the story. Somehow, Maria had convinced Zella to wear a dress tonight as opposed to dressing like a Street Rat from the Berlin Rocker scene that she had become a very visible part of. Emil found that amusing. These children were trying to differentiate themselves from what they saw as their conformist parents with loud music, unkempt, tattered clothes and an in your face attitude. They would have fit in seamlessly with the crowd that had been in Berlin during the Spring Revolution back in 1921. The clothes, music and attitude were nowhere near as outlandish as they imagined or different from anything that had existed in Berlin since the introduction of railroads more than a century earlier.

Emil’s son Walter had yet to develop Zella’s love of music and had shown that his personality was closer to Maria than to Emil. If Emil was being honest, he was a bit disappointed that Walter seemed to have none of his older sister’s rebellious spirit. He was speaking with his namesake, Emil’s old friend Walter Horst. Horst had been in declining health over the last few years and was being eased out of his semi-retired role in the Heer. It was a big part of why Emil had not fought the Chancellor when it was suggested that he consider retiring once he had reached forty years of service. It was better to pull the pin while he was still heathy enough to enjoy retirement. The trip across Asia and America that he was planning with Zella was a once in a lifetime opportunity for both of them. Still, Emil did have his doubts.

“It’s the end of an era” Horst said as Emil approached.

“I just worry that I’m leaving a touch too soon” Emil said, “Everything that is going on in the world and all.”

“There’s always something” Horst replied, “Let someone else take the weight for once. You are leaving things in good hands. They’ll screw some things up and get other things right. That’s the nature of the beast.”

“That sounds like something Sjostedt might say” Emil said.

“He said that to me last week” Horst said as he looked at his son-in-law Stefan Mischner and protégé Tilo Schultz who were here as Emil’s guests. Before the ceremony started the two of them had talked around the concerns that they had over getting sent overseas. It had also become very apparent that Horst envied them for that exact same reason.

It was something that Emil had noticed years earlier and had attempted to break himself of. How war gave one meaning and purpose. The exhilarating rush of combat. All of it was one of the most addictive things that Emil was aware of. Horst still had it and was angry that his failing body had prevented him from pursuing that still.


Los Angeles, California

As Harriman waited in the VIP lounge for Air Force One to be readied for takeoff, he considered how the just concluded Democratic National Convention had gone. The 1960 Presidential ticket had jelled around nominating Harriman for reelection which no one had doubted wouldn’t happen for a second.

The real action had been over who would be the new candidate for Vice President. The Party had chosen Senator Stewart Symington of Missouri in a bid for Party unity. It remained to be seen how effective that would be. The noises that Harriman had heard from the Party rank and file had suggested that it was the West Coast here in California that might just be the future of the Party. The Speaker of California State Assembly Richard M. Nixon and Governor James Roosevelt were definitely rising stars.

The Republican Convention was next week. They were widely expected to nominate Nelson Rockefeller as their candidate for President and Barry Goldwater for Vice President. God help America if that ticket got elected, Harriman thought to himself. Because all Hell would break loose if they got into the White House.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty


19th July 1960

Seoul, Korea

After having spent all day Saturday in Cuxhaven being briefed on what she could expect in Korea and filling out reems of paperwork, Kiki had spent the night in the women’s barracks. Then she had been informed that she was to be on the first train back to Berlin on Sunday morning because her flight would be on Lufthansa to Seoul. It had made her wonder what the point was for her to have made the trip to Cuxhaven in the first place.

Then, really having nowhere else to go, Kiki had spent the Sunday night with her family in Potsdam. Sleeping in her chambers in the Summer Residence had been nice, however she could have lived without the awkward dinner that had preceded it. Everyone had been there including Nella which had been a bit of a surprise. It seemed that Kiki’s stepmother Charlotte had taken more of a hands-on approach to raising the youngest member of their family than her actual mother had. There were still a team of nurses around to help, but they weren’t doing everything. The entire meal itself had been an excruciating experience, with Kiki’s personal choices being something that everyone was talking around. Something that they were afraid to bring up, so as to not say something unforgivable. Kiki had been relieved when she had left the next morning to have breakfast with Zella and Aurora.

It being the Summer Holiday, the three of them were going their separate ways. Zella on the road trip with her father and Aurora to the Baltic seaside with her family. It was obvious that Aurora would have preferred to be going with either of her friends, this was despite Kiki’s realization that she had put herself in a somewhat precarious position. Somehow Aurora thought that being in an area that might become a warzone was preferable to being around her family. Still, it had been a pleasant breakfast, though in Kiki’s opinion the goodbyes had been a bit needlessly poignant. They were all going to be back together in September and that wasn’t a very long time. They would probably all have some real stories to tell, even Aurora.

Upon arriving in the airport, Kiki had discovered that her seat had been upgraded to first class. She had been thinking of what she would say to her father about his interference when she learned that it had in fact been Tilo Schultz who had gotten her the upgrade.

“Nancy would skin me alive if I left you back in Coach” Tilo said when Kiki had questioned him in the airport lounge about what his motivations were. It was while they were waiting there that Kat had turned up and had spoken with Tilo. Kiki couldn’t help but overhearing what Tilo had confided in Kat. That he was unhappy about being pulled away from Nancy at this time and that he was overwhelmed by what the Marine Infantry expected of him. That was quite a thing to have heard him say. Later, as Kiki had boarded the plane, Kat had pulled her aside and apologized. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you” She had said, to Kiki’s bewilderment. What else could Kat possibly have done? She had done everything imaginable to prepare her for what was ahead, whatever it was.

Now, standing on the tarmac having just gotten off the plane the concrete was steaming. It had just stopped raining and the sun was out. It felt the same as July in Japan had a few years before, which Kiki knew was a completely wretched thing to deal with. Before she had even made it to the main building of the airport she was soaked in sweat. Hopefully, the she wouldn’t spend the next several weeks feeling like she was walking through a haze like she had in Japan during this time of the year. Once inside she found what looked like a circus happening inside. Dozens of Journalists, Photographers and even a television camera crew. Mercifully, they ignored Kiki and were focused on Tilo when he entered the building. A Korean General greeted him warmly as he entered, then the two of them turned and faced the gathered Press for a brief statement. Later, Kiki would learn that the Korean General was Gang Yeong-Su and that he had fought beside Tilo Schultz in the chaotic days after the Japanese had been expelled from Korea against the bandits that had taken over the Northern Provinces. Gang was considered a national hero by the Koreans and Tilo coming to lead the 3rd Marine Infantry Division was seen as the old, unbeatable team getting back together.

Kiki watched the Press conference until she learned that a Stabsarzt Lehmann was looking for her at the Lufthansa baggage claim. Realizing who that probably was, Kiki hurried to the baggage claim to find a stern looking man, who looked a bit too cross at having to wait for her. The Clerical collar that he was wearing was not something that she was expecting either.

“I am terribly sorry that I kept you… er… Sir” Kiki said unsure exactly how to address him as she handed her claim ticket to the Porter. “It’s a mess in the main building.”

“I had asked for a Feldunterarzt” Was what he said to her in reply, “You are what I got sent instead, Fraulein Fischer.”

He had asked for a Field Surgeon Trainee, presumably to act as his assistant and had gotten a Field Medic instead. No wonder he had looked so displeased. As soon Kiki was handed her duffle bag Lehmann turned on his heel and walked towards the doors with Kiki having to run to catch up. Once out in the carpark, he got into the Iltis that was waiting.

“We’ve a long drive ahead of us Fahnenjunker” Lehmann said, “So I hope that you got some sleep on the plane.”

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-One


26th July 1960

Rural Chagang Province, Korea

Kiki chased the chicken out of the stone walled hut that she had been assigned for her sleeping quarters, it tended to be the first thing she had to do in the morning. Father Lehmann had told her that she needed to keep the door locked and anything of value that she might have brought with her to Korea needed to go into the strongbox that the Oberstarzt kept in his office. That didn’t stop the hens from getting in through one of the small gaps between the walls and the roof. It was a reminder that this had been a farm before it had been picked to be the site of a field hospital. Ada had already left a few minutes earlier, the Nurse looked at Kiki’s hair as needless vanity and had told her to chop it off within minutes of Kiki arriving here a few days earlier. Kiki had told her to piss off only to get a cynical smile from Ada, the world would break Kiki of childish things soon enough was her reply. Kiki having to take the time to braid her hair before going for breakfast seemed to validate Ada’s perspective, which was an obnoxious intrusive thought that Kiki dismissed as she put her beret on and headed out the door, making sure that the door was secured behind her.

Kiki had only brought one thing of value with her to Korea, and that was the silver pin that went on the beret that she wore every day. It was a sign to everyone who saw it that she belonged here having earned her position. No one had given her anything. It was something that she understandably refused to part with. Hurrying across the compound Kiki heard got the now expected greeting from the men standing sentry. They were always happy to see her, and she wouldn’t trust any of them as far as she could throw them. That was something else that Ada had mentioned, they only liked her because she was young and pretty. They wanted only one thing from her, and it was good she had that pistol. There were times when Kiki wondered what must have happened to Ada to give her such a delightful perspective.

She could smell as soon as she entered the mess tent that breakfast wasn’t going to be a happy occasion. This field hospital had adopted the habits of the Marine Infantry Division that it was attached to. That included acquiring as much of the food that they ate from local sources as possible. In Korea that included rice and kimchi with every meal along with anything else that might have been scrounged up by the cooks. According to those who had been here for months already the hens that were present in the hospital compound were considered too valuable for their eggs to go into the stewpot but that didn’t mean that the occasional hog or rooster didn’t have an extremely unlucky afternoon.

Grabbing a tray, Kiki stood in line for breakfast. It turned out to be as questionable as she thought that it would be. A mixture of what looked like kimchi and fish over rice. The beverage choice wasn’t much better, either powdered citrus drink mix had been added to water in a failing effort to mask the flavor of the chlorine that had been used to purify it or the black sludge that passed for coffee here. Kiki went with the citrus drink, the need to take care of herself was something that Berg had pounded into her head over the last few years. She saw no reason to break with that now. Sitting down at the table with Father Lehmann and Ada. Kiki started to eat her breakfast without questioning exactly what it was too much.

Father Lehmann, or Stabsarzt Lehmann depending on which role he was playing at the moment was speaking with Ada. Kiki didn’t know much about him other than he was both a Priest and a Surgeon. On an intellectual level she knew that those two things were not mutually exclusive, but she still found it odd.

“Are you paying attention Fraulein Fischer?” Father Lehmann asked grabbing Kiki’s attention.

“I’m sorry” Kiki replied.

“I’m making the rounds in the forward positions” Lehmann said, “If you are interested in leaving the perimeter wire you can come along.”

Kiki hadn’t left the hospital compound since she had gotten here. Of course, she was interested.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Kiki felt the straps of her pack digging into her shoulders as she trudged up the hill.

“Be careful here” Father Lehmann said as they reached the top of the ridge. “The commanders of these positions get angry with you if you get silhouetted against the sky and I shouldn’t have to remind you to stay on the marked path.”

Because there were very likely landmines on either side of the path, Kiki thought to herself.

As they had walked through the dug in artillery positions, Kiki had seen how Lehmann was known to everyone that they came into contact with. There was a battery of 10.5cm howitzers in the narrow valley behind the forward positions. Climbing the ridge had been tough enough, getting waved through at the Command-Post had sped things along though. Now, Kiki was trying to get across the hilltop without losing her footing. The weight of her heavy pack threatening to send her tumbling. Finally, they reached a patch of relatively level ground and she had a chance to look around at her surroundings. Dozens of men came out of holes in the ground that had been camouflaged. It was a relief to be in the shade of the netting as she stepped into a large dugout that seemed to exist for exactly this purpose.

“One at a time!” Lehmann yelled and the men dutifully followed that command, some going back to their holes.

“What’s your name Toots?” One of the men asked as he limped in, to Kiki’s annoyance.

“You’ll have all the time in the world to learn that in the hospital while you’re waiting to evacuate after I get through amputating your feet because you are too stupid to avoid trench foot Soldat” Lehmann snapped which wiped the grin off the man’s face, then he turned to Kiki. “There is a large container containing talc powder in your pack. If you could get it out for me.”

This is what you signed up for, Kiki thought to herself.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-Two


26th July 1960

Rural Chagang Province, Korea

Everyone knew that the Marine Infantry were the worst of the worst troops that the German Military could produce. Karl just wished that Erik wasn’t so intent in reveling in that reputation.

Presently, Erik had his bare feet propped up on the edge of their hole and Karl might had said something except Father Markus had ordered him to air out his feet and change his socks at least three times a day. It was the usual sort of trouble that Erik caused. When they had first met Father Markus a few months earlier he had seen right through the sort of games that Erik and Karl engaged in. The old buzzard had been a Parish Priest for years while pursuing medicine as a sideline. When the Second World War had broken out Catholic Priests and Monks had been heavily recruited by the Heer’s Medical Service. The Pope declaring that the war against the Soviets was a righteous cause and as close to a just war as could be attained in this era had caused them to join in large numbers. After the war most of them had gone back to the Church. Father Markus Lehmann had stayed in the Medical Service and had continued with his training to become a Surgeon. He still kept close to the men and that included his frequent declarations that neglecting personal hygiene was a sin. The Brass loved having Father Markus around for obvious reasons.

There was also another thing that Karl had to keep in mind these days. He had recently been bumped up to Gefreiter, so his cousin was now his problem and Karl was finding that it was a full-time job. The Lieutenant would have kittens if he found Erik with his boots off. At the same time, the whole Platoon would get jammed up if Erik got sent to the rear because his feet were rotting, from the Lieutenant on down.

“Father Markus had a new girl with him today” Erik said offhandedly. “Pretty but sort of shy and didn’t say a word, not that usual battle axe that he has with him.”

“I saw her too” Karl said, “You should have paid less attention to her face and more to the rest of her.”

“I did” Erik replied, “But she was wearing a flak vest and the uniform pants are baggy on women, so it was sort of hard to see very much.

Karl hit his cousin as hard as he could on the shoulder for being such an idiot.

“Ow!” Erik exclaimed, “What did you do that for?”

“That girl is an Officer Aspirant you moron, she outranks us” Karl said, “And her gear has seen a lot of use.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Erik said, his voice getting high pitched like it did whenever he felt he was getting treated unfairly. Karl hated it when he did that.

Karl didn’t want to have to explain it to his cousin that when a pistol has been frequently drawn from its holster and fired it caused a network of creases and stains in the leather. The rest of her gear was similarly worn including that flak vest that Erik had not looked past the obvious. The pockets in the vest that held rifle magazines had been full even though she didn’t have a rifle with her today.

Then Karl spotted a reflection on the hillside opposite of theirs seven or eight kilometers away. The Oberst had said that he would give an extra day of leave to whoever spotted an observation post across the river on the Chinese side…

----------------------------------------------------------------

Jonny had wanted to see the “Front Lines” of this pretend war that they had landed in. Their Chinese hosts had been happy to oblige. Looking through a forty-power spotting scope Jonny had seen little evidence of the Division that the Chinese had said dug into the hills across the river. Then of all things he had spotted a pair of pale bare feet belonging to a soldier who was sitting in a fox hole on the military crest of a ridge across the river. His buddy stood up and Jonny recognized the distinctive shape of the coal scuttle helmet. The Koreans used a similar helmet, but they liked to paint script on their helmets and seldom had a camouflage cover on it. Then the soldier stopped what he was doing, and it looked like he was staring back at Jonny. The bare feet vanished, and a second head popped up this one with sandy hair. The first soldier was pointing at right at where Jonny was.

He cursed aloud when he saw that, they would have to be sending their best over here. Hellcats, Sealions or something worse if that was even possible. The speed with which Jonny had been spotted had just confirmed that.

“What is it?” Ritchie asked.

“I just saw who is camped out over there” Jonny replied.


28th July 1960

Mitte, Berlin

It was midmorning when they finally left, and Zella was given two things by her mother. A leather-bound notebook that had taped to the inside cover international credentials saying that she was a Journalist for the Berliner Tageblatt and a compact Leica camera. As Zella was following her father down the street from their house, her mother and Walter waved goodbye. The plan was that Zella’s mother would meet them in Vladivostok where they would rest for a couple days until their vehicles and equipment were ready to be transported across the Pacific.

That would be in a few weeks and several thousand kilometers down the road. Today, they would meet the lorry that was carrying their supplies and towing the caravan that would be home for the journey outside the city. Then they would turn east. They had planned this trip carefully and Zella would have liked to have seen China this time, but the current state of the region meant that they would be wise to travel far to the north of any potential conflict zone.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-Three


1st August 1960

Rural Chagang Province, Korea

Walking keeps you humble.

That was Father Lehmann’s perspective. It was a colossal bother for Kiki though. She was having to pack a considerable amount of medical supplies and a rifle as well because there were still bandits in these mountains. Kiki had welcomed the opportunity to leave the hospital. Over the previous days she had mostly boredom and reminders that frequently the most dangerous thing in the military was a nineteen-year-old behind the wheel of a lorry to deal with. Then there was that other thing that had happened the day before.

Lehman went unarmed for ethical reasons. He was here to treat wounds, not inflict them, he had said. However, he carried a heavier pack than Kiki did. As they walked down the trail, Lehmann was questioning her on that exact topic.

“So, this woman who you call your adopted aunt told you that women can’t afford to be too ethical?” Lehmann asked.

“What she actually said was that so long as the men are allowed to get away with behaving like savages, we have to be more ruthless just to survive” Kiki replied, “They don’t respect you if they aren’t aware of what you are capable of.”

“Did the events of yesterday have anything to do with that?”

“No” Kiki said with her voice flat, “I gave a peeping tom what he had coming. He was just lucky that I didn’t shove a knife through that hole he was cutting in the shower tent.”

“I had to wire his jaw shut and treat the broken nose you gave him” Lehmann said, “Kicking a man in the face while wearing hobnailed boots is no laughing matter. He was lucky that you didn’t blind him.”

“Do you see me laughing?” Kiki asked. She had caught a man trying to cut a hole through the side of the shower tent and as soon as his eye had appeared she had made certain that he had a great view, of the sole of her boot as it smashed into his face with only a layer of canvas to cushion the blow. The consensus around the field hospital and the Division was that the man had gotten exactly what he had coming to him. It had however done wonders for Kiki’s reputation among the men who surrounded her.

“No” Lehmann said, “I cannot imagination that you would find that funny.”

They kept walking in silence for a few minutes. This mission that they were on was a key part of maintaining the support of the local people to the presence of the Marine Division that had suddenly appeared in their back garden. Providing medical care for people in the farming villages. Lehmann tended to bring along one of the Nurses because half the people wouldn’t talk to him for obvious reasons. Kiki wasn’t a Nurse, but a Sani. He said that it didn’t matter because she had a job to do.

“I looked in your personnel file” Lehmann said after a spell.

“And?” Kiki asked.

“I was a bit surprised was all” Lehmann said, “Don’t see too many Orthodox Christians in the German Military.”

“My mother was Russian, exiled by the Revolution” Kiki replied, “That’s hardly a secret.”

“That is perfectly in keeping with a few things” Lehmann said, “Like your real name and title which are secrets, Fraulein Fischer.”

Kiki paused walking to give Lehmann a withering look, word of that was the last thing that she needed to get out.

“Keeping personal matters confidential is a large part of my job” Lehmann said, “As both a Doctor and a Priest. That is part of the reason why I brought this up here as opposed to where unfriendly ears might overhear.”

“I fail to see what that has to do with anything” Kiki said.

“General Schultz informed me of your identity last week when he passed through on that inspection tour” Lehmann said, Kiki remembered Tilo passing through. “He understandably takes a personal interest in your safety and well-being.”

It was all Kiki could do not to tell Lehmann that the next time Tilo asked to tell him to mind his own business. Instead, she just started walking again. Again, it was in silence. Which was a blessing.


Binz, Rügen Island

Many Zionists looked at what happened every year in Binz with considerable despair. They dreamed that the Jews of the world might one day return to the Holy Land to reclaim fabled Israel. Instead, most of the Jews in Europe were upwardly mobile and enjoying increasing social status as the old walls and prejudices that had existed had fallen by the wayside. The Jews of the world were not going to Palestine, but to places like Hamburg, Berlin, Warsaw and Prague where they enjoyed professional opportunity. It was the sort of life where going on an annual extended holiday to the seaside was something to be savored and enjoyed.

Aurora was reminded of this as she along with her family fought their way through the crush of people in the cavernous lobby of the resort complex called the Colossus of Prora. There was blue and white bunting everywhere, the staff certainly knew who their guests were and were shamelessly pandering to them. Anything to keep them coming back year after year. When she spotted a family that had clearly come from some distant corner of Eastern Europe wearing traditional clothes and having completely bewildered expressions on their faces, she had to laugh inwardly. These were people who had probably never been on a proper holiday before and it was very likely wherever they were from they were a tiny minority of the population. Imagine being deaf for your entire life and then suddenly you could hear Mozart.

“I got us our usual suite” Aurora’s father said as he came from checking in, “It has a great ocean view.”

Aurora wanted to groan when she heard him say that. He had been saying that joke every year for as long as they had been coming here. The way the resort was set up, almost every room had a great ocean view.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Three Hundred Eighty-Four


2nd August 1960

Russian frontier near Gomel, Belarus

Zella was staring at the ceiling above the narrow bunk she was sleeping in. The small windows that ran along the roof of the caravan were letting in beams of light that was shining on the inside of the curtain that enclosed her space. She could hear snoring from the bunk below hers. Hardly a surprise really, Gunter Mayer had been playing cards with the two other mechanics and her father the night before when Zella had gone to bed. There were four bunks and one tiny compartment in the caravan. The compartment had a bunk and desk in it. Zella, Gunter and the other two mechanics got the bunks and Zella’s father got the compartment. One of the perks of being the one in charge.

After a fast run across Poland and Belarus they had become mired in red tape on the Russian border. It seemed that the Russians were less than keen on a German Field Marshal crossing through Urals and Siberia, even a retired one. The result was that they had been waiting here for the last two days.

Fortunately for them, the People of Belarus remembered Emil Holz fondly as the liberator. So, they had been treated extremely well. The problem was that they had a timetable that they were supposed to be on and if they waited too much longer, they would fall behind. How many times had Zella’s mother told that sometimes she needed to put her ego aside and ask someone to do you a favor? Too many times to count. Her mother felt that Zella had too much pride to ask for help when she needed it and it had come with the observation that she must get it from her father.

Somewhat annoyed by her mother’s words echoing in her head so far from home she pulled the curtains open and climbed off the bunk. Getting hastily dressed, Zella stepped out of the caravan into the morning air. It was all farm country around here, so the pungent aromas of manure and dust were ever present. The gravel of the carpark crunched under the heels of her boots as she walked across it to the customs check point to the payphone mounted to the wall. Once she was on the phone with the Operator, Zella asked to be connected with the number that she had memorized because it had seemed like it was a good idea. She hadn’t realized that she would need it so soon.

When the Operator quoted the price that she would need to pay to finish the connection, Zella nearly swore aloud. It was highway robbery, but she fed the coins in anyway. Over the staticky connection Zella heard a couple rings and then a familiar voice answered.

“Hello Gia” Zella said, “I need your help.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Later that morning, just after they had finished eating breakfast, the Supervisor of the Customs Office came to the caravan and told them that they had been cleared to enter Russia. Zella couldn’t help but notice that he was fidgeting and sweating heavily the entire time he was talking to them. Her father had not reacted to the Supervisor’s dyspeptic attitude over the past couple days because he was on holiday and he wasn’t going to let a fussy little man like that ruin it. Today he had a very different demeanor.

“I was also asked to pass this along to you” The Supervisor said nervously as he handed Zella's father a piece of paper.

Zella’s father read it and then looked at Zella with a great deal of suspicion.

“It seems that we’ve an invitation to a dinner party when we get to Moscow” Her father said.


Binz, Rügen Island

“Hey Aurora” A boy her age, who she did not know, said as he walked past the table where she was writing a letter to Kiki.

It was both an annoyance and something that she found incredibly flattering. It hadn’t been until she had arrived in Binz that she had become aware of how much time she had spent in the shadow on Zella and Kiki. How many times had she seen the reaction of men towards her friends? Dozens, if not hundreds of times. The two of them always treated such overtures with considerable disdain, while Aurora had been usually ignored. Matters certainly weren’t helped by Aurora’s tendency to dress plainly or Zella and Kiki more or less fitting what most of the society around them considered very attractive. Aurora was different though and as she had discovered, the standard of beauty among the guests of the Prora was different as well. Suddenly Aurora was “That nice Jewish girl” who their mothers insisted that they must go up and talk to, at least once, because you never know. There were also a considerable percentage who didn’t need that prompting.

“You’re a pretty girl” Aurora’s mother had said, “There is absolutely no reason you shouldn’t be popular with the boys.”

That caused Aurora’s father to give her mother a skeptical look. He could think of a few very good reasons.

As it had turned out, Aurora’s mother was no fool and she understood as well as anyone the realities of the resort. Every summer it became a small town where gossip was the coin of the realm. If Aurora talked too long with anyone it caused tongues to wag. Her mother also insisted that if Aurora did any of the activities in the resort then she need to take her younger brother and sister with her. And they dutifully reported everything that Aurora did during the day to her parents. Mostly without even having to be asked.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-Five


3rd August 1960

Binz, Rügen Island

There was a distinct absurdity to working while on holiday, but there was a reason why the Prora gave Aurora’s parents a discount on the suite they stayed in. In prior years her parents had done the photography that the resort used in its promotional material and while they were here, they held events like they were going to do today. It was an exhibition of her parent’s work. There was a subtle game played in how they arranged the photographs and it had to do with how nebulous the identities of Robert Capa and Gerda Taro really were. What got published under which name depended entirely on the subject. Originally, the name had been cooked up as a means to get photographs to be accepted by publications that would turn their nose up at the mention of names like Endre Friedmann and Gerta Pohorylle. Early on Aurora’s mother had published under the name Robert Capa as well, but that had ended as the two of them had become better known they had needed to come up with another name. Then events outside Madrid during the Spanish War had changed everything and had nearly ended the career of Aurora’s mother.

The term used was; High velocity artillery and aerial bombardment followed by armored exploitation. What that had meant in practice was that Gerda Taro had been left clawing at the earth in a small hole in the ground. All while the section of the front lines she had been photographing was heavily shelled, then divebombed and finally had Panzers roll over it. The Panzer Dragoon Grenadiers who had found her had not exactly been delicate in their treatment of her until they figured out that she was a Photojournalist as opposed to one of the Internationals fighting on the Spanish side. Afterwards, she had been sent home to Berlin because she had a “case of the nerves” as it was called in those days. That was before Traumatic Stress was understood well enough to even have a proper name for it, so it had taken her years to recover. It had been two years later, during that recovery that she had found herself pregnant with Aurora, right as a new war was getting ready to start.

That was why Aurora’s earliest memories were of the apartment in Paris where she had lived with her mother, her father was only able to visit occasionally because he was off covering the Second World War from the first shots fired on the Russian border until the signing of the armistice in Tokyo Bay. It had been nine months after a visit from her father just after the Soviet War had concluded that Aurora had suddenly discovered that she had a little brother named Yoni. Aurora’s sister Pia had been born nine months to the day that her father had come home from Japan.

Her mother had remained a photographer, but her choice of subjects had changed. Small things, slices of life and the little moments of pain and joy that existed in everyone’s life. Aurora, and later her other children were her favorite subjects, so thousands of people had watched her grow from a newborn baby to a teenager. It had made for an odd, awkward childhood. Especially because Aurora had turned out to be somewhat of an introvert.

Today, Aurora was helping her parents put up copies of their photographs that had been blown up to be poster sized on the walls of one of the exhibition halls with Yoni and Pia as she had done for as long as she could remember. Unlike her brother and sister, Aurora’s parents were allowing her to stay for the presentation and the reception afterward this year. Her siblings had immediately started complaining about that, but Aurora’s mother had said that they would be more than welcome as soon as they became adults like their older sister.


Montreal, Canada

Having her harpy of a daughter-in-law in her house was not Margot’s idea of a pleasant summer pastime, but she didn’t dare say a word. Over the winter, that book had come out and Margot had had avoided it for as long as she could but after everyone else in her social circle had read it she had opened it just so that she would have an idea of what everyone else was talking about.

The book had detailed page after page of shocking behavior. It had frankly described the events that had happened when Katherine was twelve which had left Margot aghast. That had included biting through her own lip when she didn’t want to answer another question. What had followed was a kaleidoscope of self-destructive behavior. Hopping trains, breaking into buildings and the system of tunnels that supposedly existed below the streets of Berlin, getting arrested on a few occasions, all before she turned fourteen. Getting recruited by German Military Intelligence at fifteen, she had a violent disagreement with one of her instructors and quit. Then she had abruptly reentered service at sixteen because of a national emergency. She had killed a terrorist and saved hundreds of lives in the process but had been left reeling by those events. The resulting publicity had ruined her value as an Intelligence Agent, but at the same time it had brought her to the attention of a shadowy Order that existed to advance the interests of the German Kaiserin.

Throughout the book were instances of extreme violence, unapologetically dealt upon perceived enemies. Something for which Katherine had been richly awarded for by the German State. Eventually becoming the only woman awarded the prestigious Pour le Mérite and commanding the elite First Foot Guard Regiment, but also achieving a rank equivalent to Brigadier before retiring. Supposedly, she had ended her career because she felt she was missing her out on the lives of her children, and she was tired of the constant demands. Margot only approved of one of those things. The specter of violence though, she had no idea beyond Malcolm’s cryptic warnings of exactly what Katherine was capable of. After the book had come out Malcolm had felt perfectly free to tell her that when Katherine had first come home with Douglas, his men had been making bets about how long it would be until Katherine murdered her and that she should be happy that little detail didn’t make it into Katherine’s biography.

Now, Douglas was home, Katherine and their children were with him. Margot did her best to avoid conflict with Kat, but she found the presence of Marie unsettling. The last time Margot had seen Douglas’ youngest daughter, she had still been a baby. Now, she was a quiet little girl who had been named after Margot’s mother, Douglas’ grandmother. The shape of Marie’s face, especially her jawline gave her a strong resemblance to Douglas, much like her siblings did. The trouble was that red hair, that was something that she could have only inherited from Katherine.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-Six


4th August 1960

Moscow, Russia

After a night of sleeping in a real bed at the hotel, it was time for them to pay the Piper if they were going to manage to complete this journey within screaming distance of the original timetable. Emil did find the whole thing amusing as he look in the mirror at the suit that he would wear tonight when he went to go to the dinner party that the Russian Czar had invited him to. He had dispensed with the grey and black dress uniform of the Fallschirmjäger forever when he had retired. That meant that the considerable number of medals had gone with it as well. It was something that Emil realized that he simply didn’t need anymore.

Even if it meant spending an extra night in Moscow, turning down an invitation from the Czar was something that anyone with an ounce of sanity didn’t do. While Georgy wasn’t the lunatic like many of his ancestors had been, staying in charge of a country like Russia for as long as he had required being a complete bastard to some extent.

Zella looked cross when she stepped out of her room which was hardly a surprise. She was wearing the formal dress that Maria had insisted that Emil pack without telling her. Considering that it was Zella’s phone call to Jehane Alexandra that had gotten them out of the official tangle that they had found themselves in, it was the least that she could do because Emil didn’t like doing this sort of thing any more than she did.

“If it makes you feel any better” Emil said, “You do look nice when you put in a bit of effort.”

“This dress is something that Momma would wear” Zella said.

Emil felt that Zella was being a touch overly dramatic. Maria was a beautiful woman and she had put up with Emil for the last two decades. Zella could do far worse than to wear a dress that her mother had picked out.

“You want the truth?” Emil asked, “It makes you look a bit like how your mother looked the first time I saw her. She had gotten dolled up in an effort to get a story and I inadvertently stole my Aide-de-Camp’s date because of that.”

Zella had heard the story of how her parents had met many times. Her mother’s efforts to get around the security of a Luftwaffe Airfield where her father happened to command the security detachment. They might have started out as adversaries but being frequently in contact with each other had led to other things. Like two great children and twenty years of marriage.

“Oh” Zella said, she was still at an age when she didn’t like to be reminded of how much she resembled her parents.

“Just get through tonight without pouting too much if you can and we can finally get back on the road again in the morning” Emil said, “Besides that, this will be a great addition for your next dispatch to the Berliner.”

“I guess” Zella replied, “And I don’t pout.”

“Whatever you say” Emil said, knowing otherwise.


Near Montreal, Canada

It was a pleasant afternoon, and this was a lovely place. They were in a field that was next to a river where they had been enjoying a picnic lunch in the shade of willow trees. Sir Malcolm had said that there was something special that he wanted her to see and the best place to see it would be in the State Park where they were spending the afternoon, but he had been vague about exactly what that was. So, Kat was watching the children play on the riverbank and waiting to see what Malcolm had in store.

Marie was laughing and chasing after Tat and Kol in an impromptu game of tag in the manner of children since time out of mind. Jo considered herself too dignified at fourteen to join into the game. It was nice to see Marie happy. Since they had arrived in Montreal, Marie had been unusually quiet for her. Normally she was a chatterbox but around her grandparents, Marie had just clammed up. It was something that had left Kat and Douglas concerned because it was so out of character for her. Sir Malcolm had assumed that it was because Marie was shy, and there was a coldness that Margot had towards her. It was that last thing that made Kat accepting the invitation to speak at the Women’s Literary Society that Margot was a member of something that she looked forward to and she intended to talk about a whole lot of things that were not in the book.

Presently, Sir Malcolm was asking Jo questions about her life in Berlin, her school, her friends and whatnot. “A pretty girl like you must have a boyfriend” Malcolm asked, clearly amused by Jo blushing as she stammered to give him an answer.

“There is a boy that she fancies back home” Kat said, “But he cares too much about Football to notice Josefine.”

“I didn’t think you had that there” Malcolm said.

Kat thought for a minute about the proper choice of words. “I meant Soccer” She said.

“Oh… I see” Malcolm replied, “He’s still more interested in sport than in girls. Boys are usually that way until they lose the distraction when they get a bit older.”

“This is Hans’ boy, Manfred” Kat said, “He’s already drawn the attention of some of the clubs as someone they want to keep an eye on and see how he develops over the next few years, so it will probably be a long while before he pays attention to anything else.”

“Tante Kat!” Jo said sharply. she was completely mortified, until this moment she’d had no idea that Kat had known most of that.

“You need to learn some subtlety as opposed to mooning after someone” Kat said, “What you’ve been doing has been obvious for some time.”

With that Jo fell silent, outraged about getting caught out like that and how Kat and Malcolm seemed to find that funny.

They sat in silence for several minutes until Kat noticed that Sir Malcolm was checking his watch. “Any minute now” He said. Then there was a thundering roar that was growing louder, and a fighter plane streaked overhead. It was followed less than a minute later by a second one. The sound of the third and fourth was growing louder even as Kat was watching the first two streak past. The children were looking up with a mixture of surprise and awe.

“This scramble is a scheduled drill” Sir Malcolm said with his voice raised to be above the din. “Remember those technology transfers that you arranged a few years ago? These Arrow fighters are one of the results of that.”

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-Seven


6th August 1960

Jilin Provence, China

“Our fight isn’t in wars between nations” Father Lehmann said, “Our fight is against the tools of the Devil himself; fear, ignorance and disease. If we combat those with everything that we have then we are in fact preventing wars from having to be fought. There is no higher calling for those in the Medical Service than what I am asking for volunteers for.”

Kiki had volunteered, but not because of Father Lehmann’s sermon. It was because the mission itself sounded interesting. Crossing to the other side of the Yalu River with three lories of medical supplies and offering treatment for anyone in need who wanted it seemed crazy. However, as Lehmann had said they were not at war with China yet and their entire job was to save lives without question. Let the politicians quibble over the political garbage. They had a serious job to do.

When she found herself sitting on a lorry getting scrutinized by Chinese soldiers armed with machine pistols on their side of the bridge was when Kiki realized just how her choice had been driven by idealism and naivety. Unfortunately, it was a bit late to change her mind by then. Though they had been waved through, the nerve-wracking day had only just begun.

They had driven many kilometers down twisty mountain roads as directed by their local guide. Kiki was certain must have doubled back around on themselves because she knew that field hospitals were usually located just outside artillery range behind the lines. She assumed that it was in an effort to confuse any Intelligence Officer who might be among the small group of Surgeons and Sanis who had crossed the river. Tomorrow morning, they would get escorted back to the bridge. So, they had to get as much done as they could during that time.

Once there, Kiki had found herself sorting out who was most in need from those who could wait. To her surprise, most of the Chinese soldiers were grateful for her efforts though she had trouble communicating with them. As she did quick examinations on the soldiers, she pulled out the “federal” tags and tearing them off at the appropriate line after writing a brief description of what she thought was going on. Seeing a solder with severe case of the immersion foot syndrome of the sort that they had been battling on their own side of the river, Kiki realized that this man would be lucky if he only lost his toes. She tore off the tag at the red bar and she saw the instant look of fear on the man’s face. Even across languages and cultures the meaning of those tags was well known. Moving on, she noticed that one of her minders was another westerner. He had an slight olive cast to his skin, making her wonder if he was a Spaniard. On his head was a green beret with a parachutist’s badge. Sewn to the sleeves of his uniform were a rank insignia, an eagle with a single arc over it. She tried to remember what she had been taught about the uniforms of foreign armies. He was a Specialist 2nd Class, roughly equivalent to a Stabsgefreiter.

“Can I help you with something?” Kiki asked.

“Jonny, uhm… Sergeant-Major Casey, I mean… He said to keep a close eye on you” The American said nervously.

“You can keep a closer eye on me if you help as opposed to standing around gawking” Kiki said to him, “Fahnenjunker Fischer, by the way.”

“What?” The American asked.

“My name” Kiki replied, then added “And my rank.”

“What exactly is a fawnenyunker?”

Kiki didn’t laugh at the absurdity of that question and how he had mangled that word. “Probationary Officer Aspirant” She replied. That was as close to a translation as she could think of at the moment. She them went to the next patient; this one was complaining of abdominal pain. Kiki took a close look and wrote that she suspected that he had tape worms, one more thing that she had become familiar with in Korea. She tore off the tag at the yellow bar.

“I thought you were just a nurse” The American said, he was nervous again. “I’m Richard Valenzuela, my friends call me Ritchie. I’m a…”

“Specialist, 2nd Class” Kiki replied, “I already knew that, and I wouldn’t say that I am your friend Specialist Valenzuela.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

It was absurd, Jonny thought to himself.

For lack of anything better to do at the moment, his Squad had been tasked with keeping an eye on some Kraut Doctors and Nurses. Then it had gotten complicated. This one German girl, a Medic by training had gotten the Runt to help her. Then Simon and Huck had gone to see what he was up to. Before they knew it, they were helping the girl like Ritchie was. Shortly later, the rest of the Squad followed along.

“What the Hell do you think you are playing at Cadet Fischer?” Jonny asked.

“I am not in the Kaiserliche Marine” The girl said indignantly, “I am only attached to one of their units at present.”

“The what?” Jonny asked getting a look of annoyance from her.

“His Majesty’s Navy” She replied. She would probably would have been a pretty girl if she had put in the effort. Glasses, curly hair pulled back into a braid and a thin face, she looked like someone’s little sister. That was how she had been able to get Jonny’s men to help her. She was the sort who men wanted to help, and she wasn’t afraid to ask.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-Eight


7th August 1960

Jilin Provence, China

“No disrespect” Jonny said, “But is that a fucking joke.”

“No, it isn’t” Parker said, as he plopped three photographs down on the table, “The first was taken in the White House, the second in Rock Creek. Both from last year. The third from yesterday. Langley suspected she was here but didn’t have proof before yesterday.”

The pictures were of the same girl who Jonny had met the day before with the Kraut medical mission. In the first two photographs she was identified as Princess Kristina of Prussia. The first had her meeting with President Harriman while she was with a man almost as instantly recognizable, her father, Kaiser Lou. The second was of her sitting on a picnic table surrounded by what looked like a bunch of girl scouts. The third was of her talking to the Runt while she was writing on the clipboard where she had a stack of those tags the Kraut medics used, and the little punk was practically eating out of her hand. Jonny would need to have a word with Specialist Valenzuela about this.

“Damn” Jonny said, “The men are going to shit a brick when they see this.”

“They aren’t” Parker said, “Because you aren’t going to tell them a word about it. This is need to know and I’m only telling you this because you need to know. We are also going to need to debrief you and your men about your interactions with Fahnenjunker Fischer.”

Jonny gave Parker a sour look. The whole thing was embarrassing. Here they were, elite soldiers who had been led around by the nose by a mere girl who had disliked them just standing around while there was work needing to be done. Having it turn out that she wasn’t a mere girl did not improve matters. He had also learned later why she had been offended when he had called her a Cadet. To the German Military that was a rank belonging solely to the Navy, as in Sea Cadet. The other service branches preferred the term Officer Aspirant.

“What did the Brass have to say about my report?” Jonny asked changing the subject.

“That you are lucky the Chinese are unaware of your opinion of the state of their army” Parker replied, “The Brass are choosing to interpret it as you making the suggestion that the Chinese Government dodged a bullet by not starting a war this year.”

Whoever had seen it must have been able to read between the lines. While Jonny had not come out and said so, the Chinese Army was a mess. The men were a rabble. The logistics were a nightmare because it seemed that no two Companies had the same weapons and most of those weapons looked like they belonged in a museum as opposed to the battlefield. Even finding the right cartridges for the rifles frequently took days.


Montreal, Canada

It was the Sunday meeting of the Montreal Women’s Literary Society and Kat was sitting there uncomfortably, waiting to give her talk. She had originally agreed to do this as a way to get back at Margot for a number of things that Margot had said since she had arrived in Canada a couple weeks earlier. Only once she got here, she remembered that every one of them had read Gloria Steinem’s warts and all biography of her and that if there was one thing that Kat hated it was being the center of attention. It was a reminder that Kat had promised Gloria that she would sit for a formal interview and fill in many of the blank spots. It hadn’t happened yet, but she was expecting Gloria to make good on that promise at any time. The book had also revealed a lot of things that were met with quite a bit of controversy and she hoped that these women would not bring up certain topics. It was however too late to back out now.

As Kat waited to be introduced, she listened as she was talked up. Her various accomplishments. Where she had started out and how she had overcome early difficulties. Thankfully, that was without mentioning what those difficulties had been. Then her various professional accomplishments were mentioned. Looking around her, Kat realized that all these women were eating this up and that they all seemed to be of a certain type. Well to do, but not rich, middle-aged housewives. To her annoyance, Kat realized that despite her efforts to keep herself fit, she might as well be one of them having just celebrated her thirty-eighth birthday. Then Kat had one of them notice that was looking at them. She had a giddy smile on her face. Kat realized that absurdly, she was who these women wished that they could be.

“Now, without further ado, I would like to introduce Generalmajor von Mischner” The woman who was the Master of Ceremonies concluded. There was a round of applause and Kat made her way to the front of the room. There was a poster next to a copy of the book, the photograph that Doug had taken on the day that Kat had met him, of her being awarded the PLM by Louis Ferdinand. The whole truth about what she had done to earn that medal being something that she would need to take to her grave.

As she stepped up to the lectern, Kat saw dozens of smiling faces. She also saw Margot, who looked like she had just bit into a lemon. Then she looked at her prepared notes. What was she going to tell these people that wasn’t already in the book?

Then something occurred to her.

“Thank you for being here today” Kat said, “Does the name Kim Philby mean anything to any of you?”

This was met with a murmur. That name meant nothing to anyone outside a small circle of people who Kat was one of.

“His death was ruled to be by misadventure because it was important that the truth be hidden for the greater good” Kat said, “He was killed out of revenge, because he was the one who caused the Tumbler Ridge Massacre.”

The murmuring that Kat had heard before was back, this was not what anyone was expecting to hear today.

“Where I come in is that I had been assigned to a desk in the AA, German Foreign Service, when I had a memo cross my desk regarding activities in London…”

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighty-Nine


11th August 1960

Dublin, Ireland

Why after twenty years had Kat Mischner suddenly decided that she needed to open her mouth over her role in the Cambridge spy ring? Worse of all she had said that she had needed to show the boys how it was done and seen fit to mention that it had been Ian Fleming and Jack Kennedy who had been the ones conducting the mole hunt that had ended with Harold Philby having his little tumble into the tiger cage.

The London Zoo was still upset about that little episode. Their tiger had been forced to live the remainder of its life with the reputation as a maneater and they ignored the fact that reputation had drawn crowds. The SIS had made sure that no harm came to the tiger and had even gone so far as seeing that the animal was fed choice cuts of beef and milk to wash the terrible taste of that treasonous bastard from its mouth.

Ian Fleming had been indifferent about that story coming out. “That is what happens when you play the game and lose” He had said when reporters had caught up with him in Spain. He also had a new book out and a movie in production, so the timing of the real-life Andrea Herzog telling a story of one of the adventures that had inspired Ian’s novels suited him perfectly.

All that did however leave Jack out in the cold. He already had a questionable reputation having provided legal defense for men who had been on both sides of the troubles following Ireland’s separation from English rule. Having the IRA learning that he had worked with a British Agent before the war was exactly the sort of thing that could get him killed. He would have been on the first plane out, but he realized that he really didn’t have anywhere to go. Could he stand going to Berlin to work full time keeping Kat’s secret empire secret? Boston where his father’s bad reputation still lingered like a bad smell? Those didn’t seem like great choices.

Jack also had personal reasons not leave Dublin, Bridget Ó Luain to be exact. She had been hired to be his secretary and stupidly he had gotten involved with her. Next thing he knew she was talking marriage and his entire family was telling him that it was long past time that he stopped being Dublin’s most notorious playboy. A proper Irish woman like Bridget who wouldn’t hesitate to put him into his grave if he stepped out of line was exactly what he needed. Joe Junior had even gone so far as to call into a Dublin radio station to have the Corky Robins song “Conquest” dedicated to him just to rub it in.

That was why it wasn’t a surprise when the van slammed to halt on the street in front of the building that held his Law Offices and the doors swung open. A half dozen rough looking men were inside. “Our Commander wants a word with you Mr. Kennedy” The one who seemed to be the leader said.

Not wanting his partners to have the spectacle of him getting stomped into the paving stones and then dragged off, Jack wasn’t left with many choices here.

Seeing two of the firm’s Associates walking up the street, Jack looked at them and said, “Tell Sean Doren that I’m going to meet with a client.” Before stepping into the van with as much dignity as he could muster. Neither of the two Associates looked too surprised.

“It took a lot of sand to say that” The lead thug said.

“Will it matter a whole lot where I’m going?” Jack asked in reply.

“What do you think?” The lead thug said with a smirk.

That was the answer that Jack had thought he was going to get.

----------------------------------------------------------------

After riding in the van for a considerable length of time. It stopped and pulled into a garage. As Jack was led up and down stairs and through hallways, he knew that he was still somewhere in central Dublin. The men in front and behind him were clearly not taking chances. The Irish Republican Army had been officially disbanded decades earlier with the establishment of the Republic, its units folded into the regular Irish Army. The unofficial story was extremely different. The IRA had never gone away, it had only gone underground maintaining itself with the Government looking the other way against the day that the British ever returned. The room that Jack was led into looked like the back room of one of Dublin’s many bars. The man who was waiting, shouldn’t have been a surprise to Jack. It had been years and even when they had been in the Reisimint Ilchríochach together in the Soviet War everyone had known that most of the Regiment were also secretly members of the IRA. The man who the men who had picked Jack up and deferred to was Jack’s former subordinate Patrick Berne.

“A bit of a misunderstanding here Patrick” Jack said.

“No misunderstanding” Patrick said as he poured a measure of whiskey into a glass, “You helped the thrice damned MI6 root out a collaborator who got what he richly deserved.”

What did that say about what these men were about to do to Jack?

“Don’t worry Jack” Patrick said, “You were on the side of the angels with that one. We were on the same side as the Brits against the Russians, you were just faster on the uptake than most.”

Jack was relieved, but he had also lived with Patrick for two years during the war, so he knew him better than he would have liked. What was going to be the catch?

Patrick handed Jack the glass before pouring himself one.

“I’m glad we got that out of the way” Jack said, knowing that it would force Patrick’s hand.

“What I wanted to talk to you about was that some of our lads got jammed up recently” Patrick said, “Armed robbery, weapons charges, all a complete load of bullocks, of course.”

“Of course,” Jack repeated. He understood that those “lads” were probably hardened criminals who were guilty as sin of what they were accused of. Patrick was basically telling Jack to get them off if he could because he knew that they had him over a barrel. Jack would need to thank Kat for getting him into this mess the next time he saw her, if he lived that long.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Ninety


15th August 1960

Chagang Province, Korea

As it grew increasingly clear that the Chinese were not going to be doing anything this year, the talk had turned to when the 3rd Marine Infantry Division was going to be returning to garrison in Pusan. The order to send them home should come at any time. Many of the Marines were talking about volunteering to join the Pacific Fleet to battle pirates and smugglers in the South Seas. That was always a desirable activity for those who were excepted for it. All the senior Noncoms had exciting stories about their adventures with the Fleet. It certainly sounded better than just waiting to see what would happen in the mountains of Northern Korea.

As Father Lehmann constantly reminded Kiki, war or no war, their battle never ended. Every day being exactly the same as the one that had preceded it, boredom, little things like the ability of the men to find alcohol in even the most unlikely places and the constant dangers that lurked all around them were things that the Medical Service had to contend with. That was why Kiki spent her days on call because at any second, a man who had been stupid, careless or pigheaded would be brought in and he would be their problem to sort out. A couple days earlier, three men had been brought in with shrapnel injuries because one of them had been juggling hand grenades. They refused to say which one of them it had been, so all three of them had been tossed in the brig.

The trips out to the “front lines” or to the nearby villages had become things that she was looking forward to just because it broke the monotony. Today, Kiki had looked at the calendar and had realized that the month of August was half over. She had less than two weeks until she would be going home. Then she had felt a bit guilty that she had been unconsciously counting down the days.

She had received a number of letters the day before and she was rereading them in the Mess Tent after breakfast with a cup of tea in front of her. Suga had sent her a box of tea, it was a particularly thoughtful gift, it was better than her other beverage choices and there was always hot water available in a hospital. Her father and Charlotte had sent her a heartfelt letter saying that they thought what she was doing was wonderful. Kat and Aurora had written letters supportive of what she was doing. A letter from Benjamin had arrived that had been addressed to the University but had been forwarded to the Medical Service, finally catching up with Kiki in Korea. He was starting University in the Autumn term and he apologized for being pushy months earlier and that he sort of understood what she had been trying to tell him when she had asked him to stop seeing her. Kiki was trying to figure out exactly what he was aiming for by writing that letter…

That was when she heard the Iltis pull into the compound. The gunning of the engine and the skid of the tires on the gravel as it came to an abrupt stop suggested that there was a great deal of urgency involved.

She was already on her feet, unaware of how that had become her reaction upon hearing certain sounds. Running towards the vehicle she saw that another Sani, this one attached to a forward artillery unit was in the bed with the patient, he was covered in blood. The driver of the Iltis had a dazed look on his face.

“Beat had the caisson roll over him” The driver said, “It came detached, I told them to secure it, but these hills…”

Kiki found a scene of horror in the bed of the Iltis. She had seen the field artillery. The “caisson” in this case was not of the two wheeled variety that had seen widespread use in the previous century, it was one of the specially designed trailers built to safely transport and store the shells and cased propellant charges. The patient, Beat, she presumed. He looked like he had nearly been cut in half. There in the bed of the Iltis, Kiki kept her focus on the extensive injuries and the attempts to treat them in field. Compound fractures in the legs, complex pattern injury to the pelvis, extensive bleeding, internal bleeding, the list ran on and on. She was trying to get as much information as she could while working with the other Medic. She was starting to wonder where the surgeons were when Father Lehmann appeared. He looked at the blood smeared tag that Kiki had been filling out, then tore it off at black. Both the driver and the medic looked like they were about to cry, that was when Kiki realized that they were only slightly older than she was.

“If we were in a Casualty Department in Berlin or Munich and had a team of Surgeons on standby, perhaps we could make a miracle happen” Lehmann said, as he took a look at the identification tag around the man’s neck. “By the time a helicopter got here to evacuate him to Seoul he will be gone. It says here he’s Catholic, so there is one thing I can do for him.”

Kiki was left feeling completely helpless in that moment.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Ninety-One


16th August 1960

Babushkin, Buryatia, Russia

As Zella was sitting at the table of the galley kitchen of the caravan going over her notes and typing up the next dispatch to the Berliner. She knew that she was traveling through during the brief summertime, but what she had seen of Siberia had been breathtakingly beautiful. Deep forests, mountains, wide rivers most of it untouched and wild. She wrote about that. Her previous column about the comedy of errors that had led to them having dinner with the Russian Czar after getting caught up in Russian officialdom had been well received. Zella had realized that she had probably done Gia no favors by mentioning that the obvious chemistry between Gia and Fyodor Volkov. The Czar’s consort, Lidiya had mentioned that it was something that everyone was aware of but Gia.

Today, Zella was writing about how they had made good time from Moscow to the Urals, then across Siberia. The Urals had been unexpected. After the gritty industrial cities of European Russia, Zella had found herself surrounded by fields full of wildflowers. Once across the mountains, they had proceeded along the military highway that ran parallel to the Trans-Siberian Railroad. That was when Zella had started to notice the wildness and beauty of the landscape. The people she had met were shaped by the land where they lived. Tough, hard people. They would have to be in order to live in places so isolated much of the year. They had laughed at Zella telling them what she thought of where they lived. Come back in December they said, she would need to trade her leather jacket for something far warmer.

Then they had reached Lake Baikal, the crossing between Siberia and the Russian Far East. They had spent the morning riding around the southern shore of the lake and Zella had been amazed at how vivid the blue of the water was. Then her father had insisted that they should stop in Babushkin for the rest of the day. A look at the map explained why. From here on the distances between settlements would grow longer. Most of the preparations they had made were for the next part of the journey. If anything went wrong, then they would have to be able to handle it themselves.


Washington D.C.

There were some days when he felt like he couldn’t pay for things to go well. You would think that as President, Averell Harriman would have more control than he did but he didn’t. He had just learned that the CIA had gone to absurd lengths to confirm that an eighteen-year-old girl was in Korea as a volunteer in a field hospital there. Even going so far as show him photographs of her interacting with U.S. Army soldiers who acting as Advisors to the Chinese Army. Apparently, she had taken one look at the Advisors who had been told to keep an eye out for her standing around and had done the most stereotypical “German” thing imaginable, she had ordered members of the Green Beret to help out or get lost. He had found himself asking what that had to do with the cost of tea in China before he had caught the irony of that comment.

Harriman had met Kristina von Preussen last year and she had seemed like a nice girl. Her being in Korea working as a Nurse or Medic was hardly a surprise, she had struck him as the sort who hungered to be a part of something larger, for her life to have a purpose. Was she there? Yes. Good for her. Did the CIA intend to tell their Chinese friends about her presence just across the Yalu River? Not just no, but Hell no. Good, then the matter was settled then.

The trouble was that for appearances sake, Harriman would need to call up Kaiser Louis Ferdinand and tell him how proud he should be of his civically minded daughter. It wasn’t that Louis was a bad guy, he was quite nice actually, it was that no part of his thinking seemed to include that any other country could or should be as well ordered as his own or run differently. Oddly, most Americans would be more than happy to have the benefits of the German style Welfare State for themselves or their children. But the thought that going to anyone different them, or worse, one of “those people” whose identities were too obvious to mention would be enough to have them howling in anger. And the mere mention that their taxes might go up would be enough to have them start yelling about taking up arms. Louis didn’t seem to grasp that aspect of America.

Now there was the Canadian mess that was a minor headache but was nevertheless an irritant. The Avro Arrow Mark 2, the Canadians had fielded a squadron of the powerful interceptors. That was expected, Harriman would have congratulated them on the technical achievement that airplane represented if it didn’t raise so many questions. Like how the Canadians had paid for it just for starters. And the technology that made the Arrow possible, where had it come from?

Over the last few days they had started to get answers and it was one more reason that talking with the German Kaiser would be awkward. The Canadians had been looking to develop their aerospace sector and Arado Aircraft Works had invested heavily in Avro Canada. The result had been a technology exchange. The Canadians had gotten the Arrow and in Germany, the prototype for the Arado Pfeil, the latest attack plane constructed by that company had just rolled out. The two aircraft looked remarkably similar.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Ninety-Two


21st August 1960

Vladivostok, Russia

Politics.

Kiki had listened to her father complain about how politics were an absolute blight on his existence for her entire life, but she had not had that play out in a manner that had so directly affected her until now. The Americans had figured out that she was in Korea. While they had not told the Chinese that she was there, they had sent a U.S. Army Commendation Medal to the medical staff who had crossed the Yalu River to render aid to Chinese Soldiers. The Colonel who was in command of the 1st Special Forces Group had endorsed it and Generallieutenant Dietrich “Tilo” Schultz had been forced to award Far East Service Medals to the members of the 1st SFG in a reciprocal move. When the medals had arrived in Seoul, the one for Kiki had been for Officer Aspirant Kristina von Preussen and she had been given fifteen minutes to pack up and say her goodbyes before being shoved onto helicopter out of Korea. Most of the other personnel in the field hospital had been bewildered by having a Platoon of Sealions led by a General drop in on them unexpectedly and Kiki was left smarting as she was forced to leave early. She had liked what she was doing there.

Now Kiki was stuck in Vladivostok until transport back to Berlin could be arranged. Here in Russia, she was called Princess Kristina, and everyone seemed to know that the Czar was her cousin. The framed photograph of Georgy, Lidiya and Alexandra, as they called Gia here, with Georgy’s two sons on the wall behind the desk of the hotel had let her know the exact attitudes of the proprietors. She had done nothing but sleep for the first day but now on the second day she had gone to church for lack of anything better to do. That had been a bit of a mistake.

Her relationship with the Russian Orthodox Church was complicated. She associated it with her mother and childhood as opposed to any real belief, it was also something that she went to went she needed something familiar. That was why she had been there, wearing the blue dress uniform that she had thought nothing of wearing. The bronze medal on a green ribbon with white stripes and that odd “R” device attached was a new addition, one that she could thank Averell Harriman for. Fortunately, the Orthodox Church typically didn’t go for longwinded sermons. However, what the Bishop had said had been bad enough.

Vladivostok was a boom town. Raw materials were getting shipped out of Siberia and the Russian Far East through the port to the growing markets of the Pacific Rim. It was also the largest base of the Russian Pacific Fleet. Unlike during the Soviet Period when the city was an isolated backwater, it was a rapidly growing Urban Center and that was reflected in its growing cultural and financial importance. Vast fortunes were being made here and the sorts of problems that came from that, greed and corruption, were rampant.

The Bishop had pointed out that Kiki as an example to follow. He said that she had come from a life of wealth and privilege had turned her back on that to accept a life of service, helping those less fortunate using the gifts of intelligence and perseverance that God had given her. Kiki was left standing there with all eyes on her, feeling like a complete fraud. None of that mentioned her how her ambition had been what had driven her forward. Or how she had helplessly watched Beat Müller die, his injuries too great for all the learning that she or any of the Surgeons present to do anything about. On an intellectual level she understood that someone who had their body crushed in that manner would be difficult, if not impossible, to save with the resources that they had. That hardly made it easier. Father Lehmann had said that they win some and lose some, that was just how it was, and Kiki would need to accept that or else she should consider finding something else to do with her life. It was however noticeable that he had not disagreed with her when she had said that a nineteen-year-old shouldn’t die like that.

That was why Kiki was feeling completely despondent when she had made it back to the hotel. Again, she felt like all eyes were on her. She kept her eyes on the floor a few paces in front of her, she only needed to make it back to her room, then she could…

“Kiki?” A familiar voice asked.

Startled. She looked up and saw Zella, her face covered with grime everywhere that her goggles didn’t cover. That white helmet that she wore when she rode her motorcycle was under her arm.

“What are you doing here?” Kiki asked.

“I could ask you the same thing” Zella said.

Kiki wracked her brain. Zella was taking that trip with her father around the world and that would take her right through Vladivostok.

“You came from Berlin?” Kiki asked.

“You did too” Zella said, “Poppa went to go check us in and Momma is waiting in the bar where we’ve supposed to meet her.”

That was when Zella grabbed Kiki by the sleeve of her tunic and was pulling her towards the front desk.

“Poppa!” Zella called out, “Look who I found!”

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Ninety-Three


24th August 1960

Seoul, Korea

Emil and Zella had left after Emil had arranged a flight on a cargo plane for himself and Zella along with their motorcycles. They were determined to go around the world but couldn’t ride across oceans. Skipping from Vladivostok to San Francisco was apparently fine and there was a Lufthansa fight leaving from New York that they would be on next week. That would get Zella back to University with not a moment to spare. The lorry and caravan that they had lived out of across Russia had been sold and the support team had train tickets back to Germany. Maria didn’t want to think about how much this trip was costing her and Emil. It had not been cheap. However, she had been able to secure publishing rights for a book based on Zella’s notes, photographs and the dispatches that she had been sending back to the Berliner. Maria’s hope was that would offset the cost somewhat. Still, Maria couldn’t complain too much. This trip had been Emil’s way of washing his hands of military, it was what he needed to do to get on with the rest of his life.

There was one photograph though that she knew that she would treasure forever once she saw in come out of the developers. It was of Zella and Kiki, on a rocky beach in the golden sunlight of the setting sun and wind off the ocean was whipping their hair around. Zella was wearing her leather jacket and Kiki was wearing the splinter pattern coat of the German military. They seemed to be taking a lot of joy in the presence of the other. Zella was laughing and Kiki was smiling. The photograph captured exactly who they were, they were so beautiful and full of life. Both of them wished that Aurora could have been there. That entire afternoon had been enjoyable, and Kiki had been able to forget all the things weighing on her for a little bit. The next morning reality had come crashing down on Kiki’s head when she had been called in to the German Consulate to be awarded the Far East Service Medal, once called the China Medal, it was awarded to members of the Military who had completed a term of service in the Far East. Kiki had tried to tell them that she had only been to Korea for a few weeks and that she did not deserve it. Emil had told her that duration wasn’t as important as the example that she had set while she was in the field, so she needed to stop making a fool of herself and take the damned medal. The look on Kiki’s face had suggested she had very seldom been talked to that way before.

Soon enough, Emil had arranged the flight and Maria got the impression that Kiki would have preferred to have gone with them. Instead Kiki had been asked if she would return to Korea so that she could be inducted into the Order of Military Merit by the Korean Government for her efforts on behalf of the Korean People and promotion of a peaceful resolution of the Chinese crisis. Kiki had asked Maria if she would accompany her. Something about the whole thing made Maria realize that Kiki was in over her head when it came to the wider implications of her actions and she needed help.

Maria wasn’t sure what exactly she could do for Kiki but she had known her since she was eleven so she felt she should try to do something. That took the form of Maria being present for Kiki, but she fell into her professional role as an observer of events. When the citation was read Kiki just listened to it, unsuccessful in her efforts to keep the incredulous look off her face and obviously wanting to be anywhere but there. The Korean Emperor had awarded her the medal, wanting to be seen as rewarding the daughter of a prominent ally, but he clearly didn’t want anything to do with this strange young woman who had come halfway around the world. Just not for the sort of recognition that she was receiving.

Maria recognized the pattern of behavior because she had watched someone else act that way over the previous two and a half decades. Do far more than is expected of you, even to the point of personal destruction. Don’t ask for recognition, ever. And most of all, never let today’s success overshadow yesterday’s failures. It was the direct influence of Kat Mischner, the woman who had played almost as large a role as Kiki’s own mother in shaping who she had become. Maria wished that Kiki would break free of that influence. That way of thinking had never made Kat happy and probably played a role in the black moods that Maria knew Kat fell into occasionally.

Once the medal had been awarded, Kiki respectfully bowed and thanked the Korean Emperor. All in perfect accordance with the Court etiquette here. Having an Imperial Princess represent the German Military did have its advantages. An uncouth Officer from the Marine Infantry would have made a total hash of that.

There was a bit of polite applause as Kiki walked towards where Maria waited. She was holding the framed citation and the new blue and white medal was pinned to the front of her tunic.

“I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed” Kiki said softly to Maria when she got close. It sounded like the best course of action for her right now from Maria’s perspective.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Ninety-Four


26th August 1960

Rural Brandenburg, Germany

The situation in China had thrown a wrench in the works at Cam Ranh. Transporting the advanced equipment required for the Space Program across that country wasn’t considered advisable. The result was that launches had started to be postponed and then finally the portion of the program that was conducted in Vietnam was suspended until the ESA could figure out a viable workaround.

Sigi had been encouraged to return to her to her home unit until she received further notification. For her that had seemed like a step backwards until she had arrived at Rangsdorf Airfield and saw the new helicopters that her squadron was using. The FW-Albatros Al-22, dubbed the Hornet by their crews. It was the perfect description of what they looked like and their lethal purpose. Everything spare cut away, just the body of the helicopter under the boxy housing of the turbine engine. The Pilot and Gunner were in the narrow cockpit, with the pilot seated in a considerably higher seat behind the gunner. Pods with 8.8cm rockets and 13mm heavy machineguns hung under the winglets just aft of the cockpit and the Gunner controlled a chin turret that mounted a pair of MG42/48 machineguns that were electrically fired.

Besides all that, it was a Hell of a lot of fun to fly. Especially when she had been ordered to take one out for a live fire exercise. As if she would need to be told twice.

Sigi might not be being going back into orbit this year and she didn’t know if there was a bigger rush than a rocket launch. But flying a Hornet close to deck at 200 KM/H was up there. Following a river Sigi was using a line of trees to mask her movements as she approached the armored column that she was supposed “attack” only going above the trees long enough to get a glimpse of them strung out along the road. Even if they spotted her Hornet, the joke would be on them. There were five others just like hers in close formation hidden by the trees.

“Are you ready” Sigi asked Schinken over the intercom, he just looked over his shoulder and gave her a bloodthirsty smile. Unteroffizer Abraham Meir had been given that handle by pilot that he had served with as a demeaning joke a couple years earlier. Schinken had embraced the name and eventually used that to turn the tables on the pilot in question. He was perfectly happy to be a Gunner with Sigi at the controls. “At least you aren’t a bigoted moron” was how he had put it.

Turning towards the road a few kilometers ahead of the armored column Sigi lined up on the road and accelerated to nearly 300 KM/H. Over the radio she could hear that some wiseass was loudly singing a crude rewording of Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries. She laughed as she caught the words “Coming to fuck you up!” at the end of the chorus. That was exactly what was about to happen as they rushed down the road at the column who by now were aware of the pure Hell that was coming at them. The Panzer Corps had tactics for dealing with helicopters but there were some things that no one could prepare for.

Sigi lined up the sights on the lead Panzer and fired the rockets, they were only smoke but them slamming into the front glacis would give the crew a lot to think about. Schinken opened up with the machineguns in the chin turret, they were only blanks, but they had the desired effect. As Sigi banked away she caught a glimpse of a scene of pandemonium as Panzers and APCs were crashing through trees on either side of the road.


Elko, Nevada

Zella was sitting at a table in the saloon, the Waitress had told her that she couldn’t sit at the bar and would need to leave before eight o’clock. That wasn’t something that she had a problem with, after an extremely long day on the road Zella just wanted a meal and a chance to sleep. Then she had told Zella that if she stuck around here that accent of hers would drive the boys wild. Zella looked at that last part with decidedly mixed feelings. Her father had said that he was going to see a man about a dog and had left for a few minutes. Zella used it as an opportunity to go through her journal.

As she looked over her latest notes and filled in the blanks. Customs, the day spent in San Francisco, California’s Central Valley, the Sierra Nevada Mountains, Reno followed by the Nevada Desert. Finally, there was this place. The variety of landscapes was the biggest surprise. Her father told her that it was completely authentic. Wood that was darkened with age and sawdust on the floor. The blinds were down, so bars of sunlight went across the room and Zella could see motes of dust hanging in the air. At least the bottle of Coca-Cola that the Waitress had brought her was cold. She wasn’t paying attention to anything else when a man stopped at her table.

“Those two touring bikes out there yours?” A voice asked. Zella looked up and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The man looked like he had stepped directly out of a Western Movie. The cowboy hat, boots and vest. He had a wide smile that didn’t extend to his eyes, there was a wariness there that Zella was extremely familiar with. He was like one of the men who guarded Kiki, extremely disciplined and dangerous. Probably someone who had seen service in Mexico.

“Leave the girl alone Bo” the Waitress said as she set two plates down on the table, one in front of Zella. “Her father is not the sort you want to tangle with.”

The food couldn’t have been more different from the hotel restaurant where they had eaten the night before in San Francisco. Steak, beans and corn on the cob. A few minutes later her father rejoined her, and he enthusiastically ate the food.

“This is a lot like some of the meals that I had in Spain” He said. Zella would have to take his word for that, it was a lot heavier than she was used to.

Bo, who was drinking at the bar, nodded to her father as they left the saloon after they had finished eating. One wolf recognizing another even if one had seen far more years.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Ninety-Five


27th August 1960

Wunsdorf, Zossen

Because he had been in the military his entire adult life, there were certain rules such as “Never Volunteer” or “No good deed goes unpunished” that Kurt understood quite well, and he had never been particularly great at following them. One rule though was absolutely unbreakable because it was bound up in the very fabric of the structures of armies since the dawn of time. It was “Shit rolls downhill.” What it meant was that if the Commander was having a bad day then by God, everyone else in that outfit is going to have a bad day as well. And if the day in question happens to be a Saturday, well too damned bad.

Generalfeldmarschall Hasso von Manteuffel, the Inspector of the Panzer Corps had just learned about the events of the prior day and he had been pissed. An armored column of Lynx Panzers and Spz-4s had scrambled to get off the road when they had come under “sudden and heavy attack” by the one of the Heer’s own close air support units, attack helicopters in this case. There was also a pair of farmers who were equally pissed about their property getting smashed, including a stone wall that marked the edges of their respective fields getting knocked down. Rebuilding it had proven complicated as both men had sharply disagreed about where the original wall had stood. In the column itself no one had gotten hurt, aside from injured pride.

When it was pointed out that the Regiment that made up the column should have had at least four Flakpanthers on hand, the Oberst who had been commanding the column had been forced to admit that the vehicles that were supposed to provide air defense had been left behind because he had not thought that he would need them. That had been a very stupid thing to have done and he had compounded it by giving von Manteuffel someone to focus his wrath on.

For the Staff Officers under von Manteuffel it was a day of trying to escape his notice. The Field Marshall one of the last of the generation that had come of age during the First World War and he was due to retire next year. It was anyone’s guess who would replace him. Kurt however was left with a whole bunch of questions that he didn’t dare ask. Like whose idea had it been to conduct that exercise? Who had seen to it that the column had just been composed entirely of armored vehicles? And most of all, who had authorized the use of live munitions by their helicopters in shooting up the column? Even smoke rockets could be dangerous. Sure, many of the lessons of the Soviet War seemed to have been forgotten and something had needed to have been done. Hasso von Manteuffel had never seemed like he was the sort who was crazy enough to pull a stunt like that. Wasn’t he?


Potsdam

“You can’t seriously be considering doing this for the rest of your holiday?” Charlotte asked as she looked at Kiki laying on the couch in her suite of rooms having just turned off the television. Hera, Kiki’s calico moggie jumped off the couch and went in search of a quiet corner. Kiki had been watching Saturday morning cartoons before Charlotte had turned it off. It was nearly afternoon and she was still wearing the Hertha jersey that she had slept in the night before. Nella, who was now walking was looking at her big sister quizzically from around her mother’s dress.

“It seems like a good plan to me” Kiki said as she sat up. When she had reported back to Major Armbruster, her Commanding Officer, he had told her that she was on leave until the next University term started on the 5th of September. Zella was still off on her round the world adventure and Aurora was experiencing the questionable joys of family togetherness on the Hebrew Riviera. That made going and doing things with her friends impossible and aside from vegetating on the couch, Kiki could not think of a single thing she ought to be doing right now.

“The quarterly meeting of the Order of Louise is tomorrow night” Charlotte said, “Please tell me that you are at least prepared for that.”

“I had totally forgotten about it” Kiki said as she was starting to feel put out over the membership in a chivalrous Order that she had never asked for.

“You are completely unbelievable” Charlotte said, “Do I need to remind you that you are the Chairwoman of the Capitel?”

“I will read the summaries by the other three women in the Capitel and vote accordingly regarding any new members, or if an old member gets the boot” Kiki said, “I’ve been in Korea for the last month, as far as the Order of Louise goes, I might as well have been on the moon.”

Charlotte frowned. Having an overachiever as a stepdaughter presented a lot of surprising difficulties. Not the least of which was moments like this when Kiki just wanted to do as little as she could possibly get away with. She also had a point about how her being in Korea had made keeping up with the Order’s agenda difficult.

“I see” Charlotte said, “There is one other thing. I feel that it would be very enriching for Nella to spend time with her older siblings. So, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait… what?” Kiki asked as Charlotte picked Nella up and sat her on the couch next to her.

“That I hope the two of you have an enjoyable afternoon together.” Charlotte said before she left.