Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III

Part 147, Chapter 2661
Chapter Two Thousand Six Hundred Sixty-One



20th February 1978

Mitte, Berlin

This wasn’t the first time that Annett had gotten upset by something beyond her control. A key part of her personality was that she needed to be in control of everything at all times in a world that was seldom obliging. That was probably the reason that she had been instantly in love with the idea of being an airplane pilot. Nan was always in control. With the rudder pedals, control yoke, and throttle quadrant she got instant results with every action.

Charlotte knew that her adopted daughter was a special case, it was something that she had understood from the instant that she had first seen Nan under the care of Katherine von Mischner. It had been Charlotte who had requested that Kat go to Bavaria because a small child who had no one else couldn’t ask for a more fierce or dedicated advocate. Charlotte had instantly recognized that what Nan needed was acceptance and stability after the nightmare that she had endured up until that point in her life. It had been Louis who had suggested that they take Nan in as a solution to that. Originally, it had been intended that Nan was to be their ward to sidestep the thorny legal questions that formal adoption arose because of who they were. Then as the years went by Charlotte saw how close that Nan and Nella became, and that horrid woman, who was more than likely Nan’s half-sister, became a growing threat even though she was locked away. Formally adopting Nan to shield her from Gudrun and the tabloid press who had been trying to find out what had happened to “Child 6” for years had been something that Louis and Charlotte had hardly needed to think about.

Charlotte had never regretted that they had done any of that. It hadn’t been perfect by any means though. At first, it had been Nan finding every hiding place she could find and showing fear towards men in general. It was a circumstance that was far less than ideal. Later, Nan had been troubled at times in many areas. Mostly that had been in the form of having difficulty in social situations. Basically she was fine with individual interactions, but group situations were entirely different. It was inevitable that Nan would say or do the wrong thing. Now, to Charlotte’s astonishment it was the Prince of Naples of all people who had caused Nan’s latest crisis.

It was not clear exactly how Amedeo Giovanni had done it, but according to Gudrun’s jailers, she had been reduced to a babbling, quivering wreck by the end of the conversation. This was a woman who had defied interrogators and needled Nan for the last twelve years. Apparently, Amedeo had known something that they did not. One of the pieces of information that he had pried out of Gudrun was Nan’s actual birthdate and it was not at all what Nan had been expecting.

Charlotte knew that most women would be overjoyed to learn that they were actually younger than they had thought. For years they had celebrated Nan’s birthday on the same day as Nella’s because as far as anyone could tell they were roughly the same age. Suddenly, Nan knew that had been born at the end of March, on the 30th or 31st, in 1960. Making her ten months younger than Nella. That was the exact opposite of what everyone might have assumed and for Nan it threw a major wrench in the works as she had been trying to move on with her life. Suddenly she was a month shy of her eighteenth birthday and while that meant nothing as far as her attending University Classes was concerned, there were other things. Her flying a multiengine airplane solo and her relationship Amedeo being the two big ones.

Charlotte was perfectly aware that the Italian Prince was considerably older than Nan. Amedeo had been a career Naval Officer and had spent his adult life at sea. Upon becoming heir to the Italian Throne, Umberto II, his father, had leaned on him to find a wife of the right background who was preferably young enough to be able to produce issue without any undue complications. That had resulted in Amedeo being sent to introduce himself to Nella on her birthday last year. While from the perspective of European history Nella would have been considered perfect, Charlotte knew that she was exactly the wrong sort of woman to play that role because as much as she hated to admit it, Nella had the personality of wet newspaper and would probably need to go through a whole lot of life before that changed. Amedeo must have realized that on some level because he had done no more than exchange pleasantries with her. Instead, he had been attracted to Nan. She had a past, well, so did Amedeo, and they had a great deal to talk about.

When Charlotte had asked what was going on, Nella and Nan had told her that Amedeo was incredibly charming and had not really asked them for anything. Nan had traveled to Rome a few times at his invitation, but that had mostly involved her wanting to have a bit of fun with someone else paying the check. Now in an effort to free Nan of her past, Amedeo had somehow put the fear of God into Gudrun Himmler. Charlotte was unsure how to react to this turn of events or Nan’s reaction to them. What she did understand that was her daughter had an important birthday coming up in a month, it would be the first one that she would celebrate on the right day and that should mean something.
 
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What i said previously. Ship captain prince with young princess with a bad past/ flying big airplanes.

Does the germans or italians in that tl have a carrier so both may be happy :p?
 
Lets ship Nan and Amedeo together now. We'll work out the details later, but Nan will more than likely come around when she realizes just what he did for her.
 
They should keep celebrating Nan's birthday at the same time as Nella. It's what Nan has clearly come to think of as her own birthday over the years. Her reaction is as much to do with losing that as it has with finding out what her actual birthday is. As for Amedeo, he did a beautiful thing for Nan. One day she may even forgive him for it.
 
Nan needs to reclaim her birthday as her own, as a way to complete her journey to make her own identity, and more importantly to honor her birth mother who saved her when the chicken farmer and his daughter tried to erase evidence of her existence on Earth, just like he tried to erase millions on a much grander scale IOTL.

Charlotte's characterization of Nella is very unfair and wrong.
Nella is very much a psychologically healthy young woman (which is very rare in Stupid Luck and Happenstance) who while very privileged, is not selfish (except for sweets at the Alexander Platz Christmas Market) or spoiled.
She has a very good relationship with her oldest Half-Sister and Half-Brother, who have provided a good example of service to others.
Nella has shown to be very empathetic to Nan, Sophie, and Ziska without pitying them and treating them as just ordinary friends without demanding obsequious from them.
With Nella's love for her brother's dogs, and a great admiration for Kiki's becoming a doctor, I wouldn't be surprised if Nella wants to become a veterinarian with the JMS, travelling the world helping to provide aid and treatment to farmers around the world.
 
Part 147, Chapter 2662
Chapter Two Thousand Six Hundred Sixty-Two



24th February 1978

Rural Ukraine, near Pripyat

Ritchie had known on an intellectual level that Divisions from the German Panzer Corps rotated between training, garrison, and forward deployment. His understanding was that the 4th Panzer Division was something of a darling of the film studios in Potsdam, so they had been featured in several films and television series, especially the 8th Dragoon Brigade that made up the Infantry component of the Division. Just like with American Foreign Policy and the US Army and Navy, elements of the German Military tended to stay in places once they had fought there. The German Kaiserliche Marine was still in Argentina and Korea with long term leases from their hosts in those places.

Still Ritchie seeing the 4th Panzer Division in Ukraine still came as a bit of a surprise. They were bivouacked on the shore of a river near a city that was located just a few miles from the Russian border that had nothing else to recommend it. The US Embassy in Kyiv had told Ritchie that they split their time out here or else in more permanent barracks just outside the city. This was just one of several spots that whatever German Division assigned to be the tripwire force enforcing the treaty which had ended the Soviet War and formalized Ukrainian independence spent their time in the field.

The situation here reminded Ritchie that he had become a sort of go to Observer for the policy makers back in Washington and that included President Nixon. No sooner than he had gotten back from Turkey then he had been sent out to Ukraine. After he had learned about the presence of the 4th Division Ritchie had left Kyiv the night in what he had thought was the German equivalent of the American duce and a half, only to learn from the driver that it wasn’t an equivalent, it was the real deal, having been manufactured by Opel, a division of General Motors.

It had been a long slow trip with it snowing for much of the time. Now as the sun was coming up, Ritchie saw tents and a Raupenschlepper Ost, one of the newish RSO/7s with the bed piled with bags of potatoes being unloaded as the duce and a half parked in what looked like a field covered in equal parts rotten snow and ice, fortunately it was far too cold for mud of else they would be in the middle of a sea of it. The strange looking tracked vehicle had been built with this part of world in mind and the RSO/7 was the 7th version that the German Army and Pioneer Corps had used by the thousands over the last few decades.

After hours spent in the cab of the truck, the sudden cold was a shock. Ritchie wondered where this outfit’s headquarters was as he drew a lot curious looks. His Army winter uniform that was made of green wool and M-65 field coat. The Germans were all wearing the grey and white winter camouflage with layers of winter clothing on underneath. It was fortunate that he had remembered to bring a proper hat, a fleece-lined trappers cap that matched his uniform and kept his head warm even if the earflaps were a bit hokey. If he had only brought his beret these men would have known exactly who he was at the cost of his ears. There was a sudden reaction among the Germans as a bigwig came walking through the camp. Ritchie saw that he was wearing a slightly different uniform and he had the sleave insignia of a Light Colonel. Someone who he just happened to know.

“I had heard that an American had shown up” Manfred von Mischner said, “Why would they send you of all people?”

“Observer mission” Ritchie replied, “Tricky Dick wants to know if you are playing nice with the Russians.”

“Tricky Dick is the nickname of your President, yeah?” Manny asked as Ritchie fell into step with him.

“Yes, but I would not suggest calling him that in person” Ritchie replied.

“Better to be led by someone clever than the alternative I guess” Manny said, “Ask the Russians about that if you ever get the chance.”

Ritchie didn’t know what that was all about.

“Frostbite and boredom are about all that is happening out here at the moment” Manny said after a few minutes, “This is the Second Battalion of the 140th Regiment.”

“I came looking for the 4th Panzer” Ritchie said.

“You found it” Manny replied.

They came upon a small group of Officers and Manny introduced Ritchie what translated to Line Officer, and he heard something one of them asked, “Feldwebel-Leutnant or Feldwebel-Hauptmann?” Manny just shrugged. There had been some question about if the German Army had something like Warrant Officer ranks, Ritchie had just gotten an answer to that.

Eventually, they all drifted their different ways and Ritchie was told to get something to eat. He was slightly dreading what would be served up as breakfast having encountered creamed chipped beef on toast, the infamous shit on a shingle or spam & powdered eggs far too often. Instead, it was what Ritchie knew as nail soup, made from whatever was on hand, mostly the potatoes he had seen, along with peas, beans, and bits of sausage. It was being ladled out of large kettles on a stove that smelled like it was burning coal. To his complete astonishment he was given a large piece of rye bread that was still warm from the oven and there was as much fresh coffee as he wanted.
 
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Now as the sun was coming up, Ritchie saw tents and a Raupenschlepper Ost, one of the newish RSO/7s with the bed piled with bags of potatoes being unloaded as the duce and a half parked what looked like a field covered in equal parts rotten snow and ice, fortunately it was far too cold for mud of else they would be in the middle of a sea of it. The strange looking tracked vehicle had been built with this part of world in mind and the RSO/7 the 7th version that the German Army and Pioneer Corps had used by the thousands over the last few decades.
Nice to see more of Ritchie, he always makes an interesting point of view. A reunion with Parker would be nice too.
I only have one nitpick. Somehow this part feels weird. I donˋt know if it is only me but here is my hopefully constructive criticism. In the first sentence :" Parked on a field or parked in a field", would flow better, maybe...
the second sentence looks like it is missing something. It looks like a copy/paste error to me. " the RSO/7 was the 7th version of the halftrack that the .... "
Regardless, this is still my favorite story currently active on ah.com. Keep up the great work.
 
Nice to see more of Ritchie, he always makes an interesting point of view. A reunion with Parker would be nice too.
I only have one nitpick. Somehow this part feels weird. I donˋt know if it is only me but here is my hopefully constructive criticism. In the first sentence :" Parked on a field or parked in a field", would flow better, maybe...
the second sentence looks like it is missing something. It looks like a copy/paste error to me. " the RSO/7 was the 7th version of the halftrack that the .... "
Regardless, this is still my favorite story currently active on ah.com. Keep up the great work.
Typos happen, and the RSO was a fully tracked truck used extensively on the Eastern Front IOTL not a halftrack. It was one of the few vehicles able function during the Rasputitsa (Mud Season) in Eastern Europe.

The RSO/1
lem_1.jpg


1_copy1435.jpg
 
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Part 147, Chapter 2663
Chapter Two Thousand Six Hundred Sixty-Three



24th February 1978

Montreal

It was snowing as Marie Alexandra made her way home from the Main Campus of McGill walking north on Rue Milton. She had not been in a rush to get home that afternoon, so she had found a stack of magazines in the University Library’s collection of periodicals. It had been dark by the time she finally left the library and the feeling that she’d had for days that she was being followed was back. For the days following that French Agent introducing himself, that feeling had been gone. Marie had done her best to make herself as boring as possible in that time. It had not been difficult because the amount of studying and writing that she had needed to do in her coursework had basically monopolized her time. Then in recent days she had noticed that she was feeling like she was being watched. While Marie’s mother had warned her that she should never ignore that feeling, either she was just being paranoid, which was always a real possibility, or whoever it was following her was extremely good this time.

Big fluffy flakes that swallowed up all the noise of the city were falling in the golden light cast by the streetlights as Marie walked with the middle finger of her left hand against the brick wall on that side of the street, careful to avoid stepping into the light. She had felt like she was being watched from the instant she had left the library. There was a point that her mother had driven into her head again and again, how she was smaller and lighter than most people she would encounter. It was up to her to turn what should be profound disadvantages into strengths and to do that she needed to think about her next moves carefully.

Rue Milton was a one lane one-way street that didn’t run in a straight line. There were several doglegs and places where it hit a major cross street and it didn’t line up perfectly with the other side. When Marie came to one of these she turned to the right and from what she remembered about this street, there was a narrow alley that ran between two buildings again to her right about fifteen meters down the street. Walking as fast as she could without making noise, Marie ducked down the narrow alley and nearly had her feet slide out from under her on the paving stones that were covered in ice. Emerging on the other side, there was knee deep snow. Marie figured that her plan to double back and see if anyone was actually following her was a dismal failure when she stepped back onto Rue Milton. All she saw was an empty street.

Shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, Marie turned and walked west on Durocher until she hit Prince Arthur Street West which ran parallel to Rue Milton and turned back north. She kept walking until she hit Rue Sante-Famille having gone a couple blocks out of her way, cursing under her breath about her own stupidity and paranoia using swearwords from every language she knew. It wasn’t until she reached her block that she saw a man walking the other direction wearing a long wool coat and a broad-brimmed hat. From what she could see in the streetlights, he looked like he had a fairly dark complexion, like the people she had seen in Spain last year. Still, something about the shape of his chin and nose were familiar to Marie even if she couldn’t place from where. She noticed the red sash around his waist and was about to comment on it when she saw the look of surprise and recognition cross his face. Marie knew in that instant that this was the man who had been following her from the library.

Marie’s reaction was instinctive, as she reached for the karambit hidden in the small of back under her coat.

“Whichever Government’s agency you are from, go tell them that I am through playing these stupid games” Marie said.

“What are you talking about?” The man replied, and Marie knew that he wasn’t the usual agency lacky who fancied themselves to be James Bond who was bothering her from the way that he said it. That did not help matters, in theory spies had rules and just being found out was enough to get them to scurry off. Random men following her was an entirely different matter.

“You need to stay back” Marie said firmly as she slid the karambit from its sheath and had it hidden at her side.

“Do what she says, Jacques, before she guts you with that knife she has in her hand” A woman’s voice said, “I warned you not to get too close to Doug’s girls, they’re dangerous.”

“Sorry, wasn’t trying to scare you” The man, Jacques said as he stepped back.

Marie turned to see that the woman was elderly, but not feeble by any means. She shot Marie an appraising look before she said, “That was a neat piece of work back there, doubling around like that. Jacky doesn’t know the city, so he thought he had fallen behind and raced to catch up. We weren’t trying to frighten you, but we had heard that you had left the nest and we had to be sure that none of Colonel Blackwood’s people were about before we talked. He wouldn’t be very happy if he knew.”

“Oh” Marie said as she slide the karambit back into the sheath. “Who are you?”

“Margot’s dirty little secret” The woman said and as she stepped closer, and Marie saw the family resemblance. The features she had noticed in Jacque’s face were ones she saw in the mirror every day.
 
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So now it's a question of whether she is an Otto or an Aunt Zella?
If it's the former, then it's hard to tell the difference in the love bombing stage.
 
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Margot is Métis, isn't she? These are her family.
I had to look that up, given that this is the early 70's, we could be looking at Margot having gone through some childhood trauma that makes Kat's life look like a bed of flowers given the stories coming out in the last few years.*
If that breaks sooner, that could be a massive watershed moment for Canada decades early.

*Edited as the original gave an impression of doubt that I do NOT support.
 
Part 147, Chapter 2664
Chapter Two Thousand Six Hundred Sixty-Four



25th February 1978

Montreal

“We are both blessed and cursed with memory” Julie said, “What makes that especially true considering that according to many historians we supposedly don’t exist. Yet here we are.”

Julie Pelletier, Marie Alexandra’s great aunt and her grandmother’s youngest sister and her grandson Jacques had been talking with Marie since she had met them the prior evening and it was now getting into the early morning hours.

They had gone to a 24-hour café near the McGill Campus which mostly catered to the students. The food was questionable, but coffee was a different story. It seemed that Julie had wanted to talk to Marie for a long time. Her living in the Blackwood house had been a deterrent though. Julie had referred to herself as “Margot’s dirty little secret.” Aside from spying on Marie when they had been trying to figure out how to approach her, they didn’t seem like they were bad people. There were many details that they had told her about their lives. That included the telling Marie that she had dozens of cousins on that side of her family that she had never heard about until that moment, far beyond Aunt Emma’s family who lived on Vancouver Island in distant British Columbia.

Then when Marie had asked about what Julie knew about their family story she got far more than she had bargained for.

“Our great, great however many generations ago grandmother… It would be nine or ten for you if I had to guess Marie, was named by Madeleine Charron” Julie said, “She was among the handful of the so-called Correction Girls who survived the journey from France to Louisiana in 1719 after being exiled by order of King Louis of France, I’m not sure which one. They called them that to differentiate them from the King’s Daughters and Pelican Girls. Considering how the whole lot of them were lumped together as women of ill repute, there is a bit of ironic justice for those who didn’t get a whole lot of it during their lifetimes I suppose.”

“Louisiana?” Marie asked, “How did Madeleine end up in Canada?”

“Up the Mississippi River when that was still a real wilderness” Julie replied, “Everything from Louisiana to Labrador was all New France in those days.”

What followed was Julie telling her about the generations that followed. Minor triumphs and greater tragedies. Marie could tell that Julie liked telling these stories. They were a version of Canadian history that had only existed in the margins of the textbooks without a whole lot of detail. That did leave her with one major question though.

“How come my grandmother wants nothing to do with any of this?” Marie eventually asked, “Most of my mother’s family is working class, so that doesn’t seem like something that most people would hold against her.”

Jacques said something in a language that Marie didn’t recognize, which was odd for her and instantly got her attention.

“That was a terrible thing to say about anyone, even your great aunt, Jacky” Julie said to Jacques.

“Pardon?” Marie asked.

“All I said was the truth” Jacques replied. He seemed incredibly amused by what he had just said, so it must have been something delightfully bad. That it had been in an unfamiliar language was something that she was extremely curious about.

“When we were young…” Julie said before pausing and thinking about what she was going to say next. “Things got bad for us, and we all did what we had to do. Your grandmother learned all the wrong lessons. Whoever her father was, she got that fair complexion from him, our mother told me that meant trouble from the day she was born.”

That was completely unbelievable. Margot had known that about herself when she had frozen out the Lane family over Henriette getting pregnant. There was also how she had treated Aunt Emma and Marie’s mother.

“When it comes being taught to hate everything you are, Margot was a star pupil” Jacques said, “Then Colonel Blackwood entered the picture.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve said something like that” Marie said in reply, “When you introduced yourself you said that you didn’t come near because of my grandfather.”

“I am sure that he cares about you as his granddaughter, but he was the head of the Mounted Police’s Special Branch” Julie said, “There are many among us who think that he is the Devil himself because he was extremely good at that job.”

“Making the Mounties more inclusive to better spy on the First Nations” Jacques said sarcastically.

Marie knew from having watched her mother that there were often several sides of the people you knew. The woman who had loved and encouraged her from the time she was a child had a side that was incredibly dark if even a small portion of the rumors about her were true, there was a reason why she was called the Tigress. She had solved problems for the House of Hohenzollern, made them go away. Often the solution involved disposing of the people who caused them. Marie’s mother had been extremely well rewarded for that, but the price she had paid had been staggering. It was regretfully not a shock that her grandfather had done similar things.

“In a truly just world that sort of thing wouldn’t happen” Marie said.

Julie smiled when Marie said that, like if Marie had just passed some sort of test. Though Marie’s reasons were probably not the same as those of her great aunt or cousin.
 
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Marie is going to add another language to her suite of ones she has. She does have a perfect cover for going out west to see her family out there though, she can say she is going to see where Gia lived as a baby and where her mother saved her from the attackers.
 
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