Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
I'm pretty sure Erich's men appreciated that machine-gun getting FUBAR-ed. Also the wording of his actions as "brave, but pointless" smacks of someone trying to downplay what he actually did and divert from their own failings on the planning and intelligence behind the op. After all, if they had done a better job, Erich's "brave, but pointless" actions wouldn't have been needed, would they?
The higher ups in Erich's chain of command are going to read between the lines and give credit to Erich as he showed that he was calm and cool under fire while at the same time he provided an example of leadership to his men.
As someone who graduated in the top third of his class at the Academy, and the Great-Grandson of the Grand Admiral of the KLM during ITTL WW II, he is going to be slotted for a staff job, division or higher at the next round of promotions and transfers.
As someone who graduated in the top third of his class at the Academy, and the Great-Grandson of the Grand Admiral of the KLM during ITTL WW II, he is going to be slotted for a staff job, division or higher at the next round of promotions and transfers.
There is still a lot of stuff leftover from The ITTL Pacific War that the pirates have obtained.
The first goal of the pirates is to convert their booty into cash in order to y more modern weapons and ammunition, somewhere on the Baltic Coast there is a gas and convenience store owner who wishes that he was still in his old business.
The first goal of the pirates is to convert their booty into cash in order to y more modern weapons and ammunition, somewhere on the Baltic Coast there is a gas and convenience store owner who wishes that he was still in his old business.
Part 150, Chapter 2725
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Twenty-Five
16th October 1978
Flores Sea
After the events of the last couple days the letter from Gretchen was a welcome diversion. The mundane struggles of her and her friends that Gretchen felt were the end of the world. A silver Mjölnir pendent, whatever that was, belonging to Mathilda that was an irreplaceable gift from Mathilda’s mother had disappeared. Apparently, Mathilda placed a lot of value on that pendent, far more than its apparent value would suggest. A few days later, Gretchen’s sister Anna said she found it. No one had believed that for a second. Gretchen and Eddi had to physically stop Mathilda from giving Anna a beating that Gretchen was certain that her sister richly deserved. Finally, there was a visit from Gretchen’s older brother Sabastian who had told her about his intention to ask his Canadian girlfriend, who he had met at the Montreal Olympics, to marry him. Gretchen wrote at length about how she had mixed feelings about that. While her brother happy with the prospect, Henriette was Canadian, already had a child from a previous relationship, and as she had already mentioned, Henriette was Canadian.
That couldn’t have been more different from what Erich had been tangling with. The last operation had been a costly mess with several casualties. The bullets from the old Japanese Nambu had difficulty penetrating the flak vests they wore, but a hit could still injure the wearer, the result being a nasty bruise and even broken bones. That was still better than the potentially fatal results if one were not wearing one of the vests. Other parts of the body were not armored, like the arms and legs, or worse, the head. As it stood, in Erich’s Platoon there had been no fatalities, but like in other Platoons, the most common injury throughout the Companies who had attacked up the hills had been the most embarrassing one because of the nature of the fight. No one on Earth wanted to brag that they had gotten a wound badge because they had gotten shot in the ass.
Then there was the after-action report which had described the situation as them attacking the rearguard of the pirate band as they escaped with the last of the loot from the ship they had taken. To Erich’s surprise, the men of his Platoon had been annoyed by how the Oberstleutnant commanding the Battalion had characterized Erich’s actions. He had no way of knowing that if they had waited a few more minutes the man who had been firing that machine gun at them would have run. The maddening part was that the 10.5cm “Mountain” Howitzers that belonged to the Battalion had been left disassembled in the holds of the Cuxhaven and Eckernförde despite being desperately needed as the ships had moved out of range of the 17-Pounders, while the 20mm Flak guns had been basically worthless in that particular fight. Erich figured that the pirates would have run a lot sooner as the volume of high explosive shells landing on their heads had increased. Of course, the question about how a band of pirates had acquired two British made anti-tank guns had still not been answered. The best guess was that they were leftovers from the Pacific War like the Nambu Machine Guns they had encountered. What other surprises were still in store for them in these islands in the months ahead?
Once they had been back aboard the Cuxhaven, Oberfeld Muller had told Erich that he needed to let it go. Lack of recognition, the higherups covering their own asses at the expense of everyone else, and operational hiccups were all a part of being in the Marine Infantry. Erich was willing to let it go this time, but he had no intention of forgetting what had happened.
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The SMS Cuxhaven could transport an entire Battalion of Marines and all of their equipment in relative comfort. The term relative was used because the design was the direct result of experiences during the Pacific War and compared to Tyrone Lee’s experiences with the transports used by the US Marine Corps in Panama and the Philippines it was the height of luxury. The only issue that Lee took was that the food in the Enlisted and Noncom’s Mess was decidedly to German tastes. Lee had never encountered Curry Ketchup or Blueberry Maté before he had been sent as an International Observer and for people who supposedly tended to have bland food, the German Marines’ preference for a mustard-horseradish mix that could be used to strip paint off the bulkheads came as a surprise.
Sitting down at one of the tables used by the Noncoms, he noticed that Oberfeld Muller was talking with Oberstabsfeldwebel Juma, who Lee knew served in the Staff of Battalion Headquarters. As Juma got up to leave, he gave Lee only a brief dismissive glance before walking off. A few years earlier on one of his albums, Richard Pryor had talked about his observations while touring in Africa and what he didn’t see while down the street there. At the time Lee had assumed that it was just Pryor being edgy like always, but after encountering actual Africans like the Askaris who served in the German Military he had been forced to rethink that.
“Trying to get your LT his due?” Lee asked.
“Usual politics” Muller replied, “And the Oberstleutnant is not going to budge, not with how tight he is with the Captain of the Ozelot.”
So, the German Marines had their own cliques and politics. Lee could tell Muller all kinds of stories about what he had seen. A Marine didn’t get assigned to Twenty-Nine Palms unless they had really pissed their CO off for example.
“That’s how it goes” Muller said, “It’s about time that Raeder finally stepped up, word is that he’s going to get a pip for this.”
That was something that the German Army and Marines did that their American counterparts didn’t exactly have an equivalent of. Getting promoted to Oberschütze or Oberleutnant, Private First Class and First Lieutenant, was simply sewing a pip onto the sleeve of the Schütze or adding one the shoulder boards worn by the Leutnant. It was considered a huge deal.
16th October 1978
Flores Sea
After the events of the last couple days the letter from Gretchen was a welcome diversion. The mundane struggles of her and her friends that Gretchen felt were the end of the world. A silver Mjölnir pendent, whatever that was, belonging to Mathilda that was an irreplaceable gift from Mathilda’s mother had disappeared. Apparently, Mathilda placed a lot of value on that pendent, far more than its apparent value would suggest. A few days later, Gretchen’s sister Anna said she found it. No one had believed that for a second. Gretchen and Eddi had to physically stop Mathilda from giving Anna a beating that Gretchen was certain that her sister richly deserved. Finally, there was a visit from Gretchen’s older brother Sabastian who had told her about his intention to ask his Canadian girlfriend, who he had met at the Montreal Olympics, to marry him. Gretchen wrote at length about how she had mixed feelings about that. While her brother happy with the prospect, Henriette was Canadian, already had a child from a previous relationship, and as she had already mentioned, Henriette was Canadian.
That couldn’t have been more different from what Erich had been tangling with. The last operation had been a costly mess with several casualties. The bullets from the old Japanese Nambu had difficulty penetrating the flak vests they wore, but a hit could still injure the wearer, the result being a nasty bruise and even broken bones. That was still better than the potentially fatal results if one were not wearing one of the vests. Other parts of the body were not armored, like the arms and legs, or worse, the head. As it stood, in Erich’s Platoon there had been no fatalities, but like in other Platoons, the most common injury throughout the Companies who had attacked up the hills had been the most embarrassing one because of the nature of the fight. No one on Earth wanted to brag that they had gotten a wound badge because they had gotten shot in the ass.
Then there was the after-action report which had described the situation as them attacking the rearguard of the pirate band as they escaped with the last of the loot from the ship they had taken. To Erich’s surprise, the men of his Platoon had been annoyed by how the Oberstleutnant commanding the Battalion had characterized Erich’s actions. He had no way of knowing that if they had waited a few more minutes the man who had been firing that machine gun at them would have run. The maddening part was that the 10.5cm “Mountain” Howitzers that belonged to the Battalion had been left disassembled in the holds of the Cuxhaven and Eckernförde despite being desperately needed as the ships had moved out of range of the 17-Pounders, while the 20mm Flak guns had been basically worthless in that particular fight. Erich figured that the pirates would have run a lot sooner as the volume of high explosive shells landing on their heads had increased. Of course, the question about how a band of pirates had acquired two British made anti-tank guns had still not been answered. The best guess was that they were leftovers from the Pacific War like the Nambu Machine Guns they had encountered. What other surprises were still in store for them in these islands in the months ahead?
Once they had been back aboard the Cuxhaven, Oberfeld Muller had told Erich that he needed to let it go. Lack of recognition, the higherups covering their own asses at the expense of everyone else, and operational hiccups were all a part of being in the Marine Infantry. Erich was willing to let it go this time, but he had no intention of forgetting what had happened.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The SMS Cuxhaven could transport an entire Battalion of Marines and all of their equipment in relative comfort. The term relative was used because the design was the direct result of experiences during the Pacific War and compared to Tyrone Lee’s experiences with the transports used by the US Marine Corps in Panama and the Philippines it was the height of luxury. The only issue that Lee took was that the food in the Enlisted and Noncom’s Mess was decidedly to German tastes. Lee had never encountered Curry Ketchup or Blueberry Maté before he had been sent as an International Observer and for people who supposedly tended to have bland food, the German Marines’ preference for a mustard-horseradish mix that could be used to strip paint off the bulkheads came as a surprise.
Sitting down at one of the tables used by the Noncoms, he noticed that Oberfeld Muller was talking with Oberstabsfeldwebel Juma, who Lee knew served in the Staff of Battalion Headquarters. As Juma got up to leave, he gave Lee only a brief dismissive glance before walking off. A few years earlier on one of his albums, Richard Pryor had talked about his observations while touring in Africa and what he didn’t see while down the street there. At the time Lee had assumed that it was just Pryor being edgy like always, but after encountering actual Africans like the Askaris who served in the German Military he had been forced to rethink that.
“Trying to get your LT his due?” Lee asked.
“Usual politics” Muller replied, “And the Oberstleutnant is not going to budge, not with how tight he is with the Captain of the Ozelot.”
So, the German Marines had their own cliques and politics. Lee could tell Muller all kinds of stories about what he had seen. A Marine didn’t get assigned to Twenty-Nine Palms unless they had really pissed their CO off for example.
“That’s how it goes” Muller said, “It’s about time that Raeder finally stepped up, word is that he’s going to get a pip for this.”
That was something that the German Army and Marines did that their American counterparts didn’t exactly have an equivalent of. Getting promoted to Oberschütze or Oberleutnant, Private First Class and First Lieutenant, was simply sewing a pip onto the sleeve of the Schütze or adding one the shoulder boards worn by the Leutnant. It was considered a huge deal.
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Perhaps, but the sword of Damocles has got nothing on what Tilo will do to Erich if he uses Gretchen to bypass the chain of command.
I noticed a little throwaway about a “Superbug” STD going through Da Nang, it is most likely the AIDS/HIV virus that hasn’t been discovered yet as the cause of the new outbreak of STDs.
It is also probably popping up in other Liberty Ports around the world where sailors and prostitution go hand in hand.
Because it seems that it is mostly sailors that are being identified as the ones who are getting the unknown and unnamed disease, military medical units have the most complete information on the spread of this disease.
It is also probable that it is being called “The Sailors Disease” as they are the first ones to be associated with it.
Kiki earlier was collecting blood and other bodily samples in Los Angeles for the JMS, and may find herself becoming the coordinator of an international response to this unidentified disease.
It is also probably popping up in other Liberty Ports around the world where sailors and prostitution go hand in hand.
Because it seems that it is mostly sailors that are being identified as the ones who are getting the unknown and unnamed disease, military medical units have the most complete information on the spread of this disease.
It is also probable that it is being called “The Sailors Disease” as they are the first ones to be associated with it.
Kiki earlier was collecting blood and other bodily samples in Los Angeles for the JMS, and may find herself becoming the coordinator of an international response to this unidentified disease.
I recall there was a case in an earlier installment of a very unwell sailor being taken off Prince Michael’s warship- possibly with later stage AIDS.
Yes that happened, but the point was that it is popping up now in more places around the world especially where there are Liberty Ports, that means places like the San Diego-Tijuana metro area, Havana, Cuba, Marseille France, Barcelona Spain, among other places.
IOTL, AIDS was identified as “The Gay Disease” as Gay men were among the first ones to be publicly associated with it.
ITTL, it is sailors that are the first to be identified as having some unknown disease and thus that could make it in the public’s eyes “The Sailors Disease”.
IOTL, AIDS was identified as “The Gay Disease” as Gay men were among the first ones to be publicly associated with it.
ITTL, it is sailors that are the first to be identified as having some unknown disease and thus that could make it in the public’s eyes “The Sailors Disease”.
Could Oberstabsfeldwebel Juma be a friend of someone say Reier? Might have served under him a time or two, might even have not only helped him bury the bodies so to speak but be part of the reason there are bodies to be buried?
There are times that a Junior Officer has to fight their own battles...
But he won't be alone in the fight, but the help he gets will come from the shadows.
There will be the scuttlebutt and the jungle drums coming from the NCOs as they spread the word that Erich is a stand-up officer who is very competent, brave in battle while not being foolhardy or a glory hound.
There are also very Senior Officers in the KLM who served under Grand Admiral von Raeder (my spellcheck keeps defaulting to Reader) when they were Junior Officers themselves, and more importantly served alongside Erich's father and grandfather and are happy that Erich takes after the Grand Admiral and not those two non-entities, some of them could be in the Bureau of Naval Personnel and have the final word on transfers and promotions for the Marine Infantry and see that everyone gets what they deserve...
And finally, Tilo will be watching to see how Erich handles this, and while not getting directly involved himself, will ask the questions about Erich that makes it clear that Tilo sees something in him.
A reproduction of the WW2 era Rank "Pip" of an Oberschütze. ITTL it didn't gain the association with the SS so it still remains in use.
Part 150, Chapter 2727
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Twenty-Seven
20th October 1978
Tzschocha, Silesia
To Gretchen
I am coming to despise the sort of men we are chasing. Several times now we have reached a site believed to be used by pirates only to find that they burnt everything that couldn’t carry away with them. The smell and the things you see because of that are not something I would want to burden you, or anyone else, with.
I am sorry that have to tell you of this, but you need to know to understand why I am here. It could be an earthly paradise, but oil, tin, rubber, and spices fuel the conflict. The vast fortunes that are made in these islands are why the Dutch have fought like mad to keep them. During the Pacific War where the Dutch with their British and Australian Allies fought the Japanese, there was an ongoing revolution against Dutch Rule, the revolutionaries welcomed the Japanese as liberators. That as it turned out, was a mistake…
Reading the letter, Gretchen knew that Erich was trying to explain himself. What he was doing and why. The conflict he was talking about had been spilling out of the East Indies, which was why the Marine Infantry was involved. She had looked up the portion of the Pacific War that had taken place in the East Indies and had seen photographs of British and Australian Soldiers. There were others too, like Indians or the Kiwis who had held the line with improvised Panzers when the alternative had been nothing at all until they were able to get something better. According to the book, the First Battle of Jakarta was one of the few times that Japanese Panzers had made a real difference, setting up the battles that would rage on Java Island over the following years right up until the end of the war.
Looking at the text of the letter, Gretchen could see that it was typewritten by the sort of typewriter that the Military had made by the tens of thousands and most of them had seen decades of use producing the blizzard of paper that got sent of Wunsdorf every single day. They had mismatched keys from repairs where done with expedience as the primary concern. The rollers were coated with the residue of ribbon ink, carbon paper and correction fluid leaving marks on the page. The pawls didn’t always engage properly causing the lines to be slightly uneven. Erich used such a typewriter, and it showed on the letter he had sent to Gretchen. What was typed up the envelope was pristine, as had the last several letters, much to Gretchen’s annoyance. Someone was reading her mail and taking the trouble to make it look like it had still come from the Naval Depot in Da Nang, Vietnam.
Wunsdorf-Zossen
Tilo’s nephews Erik Garver and Karl Dunkel had been born within a few weeks of each other and in school their teachers had occasionally been surprised to learn they were cousins rather than brothers. Considering the amount of trouble they had caused exactly how they were related had probably been the least of their teacher’s worries. Eventually they had gotten older, and a stupid prank had been on the verge of getting them thrown into prison when Tilo had intervened by getting them into the Marine Infantry. Erik had gotten out of the Marines following a shrapnel injury to the throat that had nearly killed him. Taking advantage of a program meant to find gainful employment for Veterans, Erik had become a Postal Inspector. Anyone who knew Erik knew that going through other people’s things and ferreting out their dirty little secrets was the sort of job he was made for. Karl on the other hand had remained in the Marines earning an enviable reputation for his conduct in Korea, Poland, and Argentina. These days Karl was a Hauptmann on the shortlist for promotion and appointment to a Staff Position in Kiel or the OKW in Wunsdorf-Zossen. The trouble was that anytime the two of them got together, trouble followed.
Erik had been intercepting all the mail going to or from Tilo’s daughter Gretchen. When he found one with her requesting to be a pen pal with a Marine in the field, Erik had contrived for that to be one particular Marine Officer with the help of Karl and an extremely unlikely accomplice, Tilo’s mother. That was why he was in Wunsdorf-Zossen on his own time.
It was brisk autumn day with the weather report speculating about if the first snow of the season would fall that evening. The house that Tilo’s mother had lived in for the last several decades was just as ramshackle and dilapidated as it had looked for as long as Tilo could remember. Despite her advanced age of eighty-four and being nearly blind, Helga Schultz nee Kunkel, had steadfastly refused to move to an assisted living facility when her children had asked. Despite the rundown state of the house, Tilo was aware that his mother had received some eyewatering offers for the property. Almost all the other houses in the neighborhood were owned by members of the High Command or high-ranking members of their Staff. Tilo and Lenz had seen to it that she had several live in assistants. Beyond that, Tilo’s sisters Hana and Ava lived nearby, as two of the thousands of Civilian Workers in the nearby sprawling office complex that was the OKW.
As Tilo entered the house, he found his mother watching a gameshow on television. “Good evening Dietrich” His mother said with a toothless smile as he entered the room as she was looking at him with those sightless eyes.
“I bet the look on your face is good” Helga said with a laugh. “Esther saw you pull up in your car and told me over the phone.”
Esther, the lifelong friend of Tilo’s mother and the widow of Grand Admiral Jacob von Schmidt lived next door. Going back to Tilo’s childhood, he doubted that a leaf fell in the neighborhood without the two of them being aware of it.
“We need to talk about the little game you have been playing on Gretchen” Tilo said.
“Don’t take that tone with me Dietrich” Helga said, “You sound like your father, and do you remember how that worked out for him?”
Tilo was probably more aware of his father’s actions with Abwehr and later with the BND than most people were. Still, Tilo’s mother had been more than a match for his father when it came to bloody minded skullduggery. Apparently, she had not missed a step.
“Why though?” Tilo asked.
“Most of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren are lost causes” Helga said, “I feel that Gretchen actually has a chance to break the cycle of idiocy and illegitimacy that has plagued this family. Karl told me all about that boy, Erich Raeder, and making sure that she meets a nice boy from a good family is worth a shot.”
As annoying as it was for Tilo, he couldn’t argue with his mother’s reasoning.
20th October 1978
Tzschocha, Silesia
To Gretchen
I am coming to despise the sort of men we are chasing. Several times now we have reached a site believed to be used by pirates only to find that they burnt everything that couldn’t carry away with them. The smell and the things you see because of that are not something I would want to burden you, or anyone else, with.
I am sorry that have to tell you of this, but you need to know to understand why I am here. It could be an earthly paradise, but oil, tin, rubber, and spices fuel the conflict. The vast fortunes that are made in these islands are why the Dutch have fought like mad to keep them. During the Pacific War where the Dutch with their British and Australian Allies fought the Japanese, there was an ongoing revolution against Dutch Rule, the revolutionaries welcomed the Japanese as liberators. That as it turned out, was a mistake…
Reading the letter, Gretchen knew that Erich was trying to explain himself. What he was doing and why. The conflict he was talking about had been spilling out of the East Indies, which was why the Marine Infantry was involved. She had looked up the portion of the Pacific War that had taken place in the East Indies and had seen photographs of British and Australian Soldiers. There were others too, like Indians or the Kiwis who had held the line with improvised Panzers when the alternative had been nothing at all until they were able to get something better. According to the book, the First Battle of Jakarta was one of the few times that Japanese Panzers had made a real difference, setting up the battles that would rage on Java Island over the following years right up until the end of the war.
Looking at the text of the letter, Gretchen could see that it was typewritten by the sort of typewriter that the Military had made by the tens of thousands and most of them had seen decades of use producing the blizzard of paper that got sent of Wunsdorf every single day. They had mismatched keys from repairs where done with expedience as the primary concern. The rollers were coated with the residue of ribbon ink, carbon paper and correction fluid leaving marks on the page. The pawls didn’t always engage properly causing the lines to be slightly uneven. Erich used such a typewriter, and it showed on the letter he had sent to Gretchen. What was typed up the envelope was pristine, as had the last several letters, much to Gretchen’s annoyance. Someone was reading her mail and taking the trouble to make it look like it had still come from the Naval Depot in Da Nang, Vietnam.
Wunsdorf-Zossen
Tilo’s nephews Erik Garver and Karl Dunkel had been born within a few weeks of each other and in school their teachers had occasionally been surprised to learn they were cousins rather than brothers. Considering the amount of trouble they had caused exactly how they were related had probably been the least of their teacher’s worries. Eventually they had gotten older, and a stupid prank had been on the verge of getting them thrown into prison when Tilo had intervened by getting them into the Marine Infantry. Erik had gotten out of the Marines following a shrapnel injury to the throat that had nearly killed him. Taking advantage of a program meant to find gainful employment for Veterans, Erik had become a Postal Inspector. Anyone who knew Erik knew that going through other people’s things and ferreting out their dirty little secrets was the sort of job he was made for. Karl on the other hand had remained in the Marines earning an enviable reputation for his conduct in Korea, Poland, and Argentina. These days Karl was a Hauptmann on the shortlist for promotion and appointment to a Staff Position in Kiel or the OKW in Wunsdorf-Zossen. The trouble was that anytime the two of them got together, trouble followed.
Erik had been intercepting all the mail going to or from Tilo’s daughter Gretchen. When he found one with her requesting to be a pen pal with a Marine in the field, Erik had contrived for that to be one particular Marine Officer with the help of Karl and an extremely unlikely accomplice, Tilo’s mother. That was why he was in Wunsdorf-Zossen on his own time.
It was brisk autumn day with the weather report speculating about if the first snow of the season would fall that evening. The house that Tilo’s mother had lived in for the last several decades was just as ramshackle and dilapidated as it had looked for as long as Tilo could remember. Despite her advanced age of eighty-four and being nearly blind, Helga Schultz nee Kunkel, had steadfastly refused to move to an assisted living facility when her children had asked. Despite the rundown state of the house, Tilo was aware that his mother had received some eyewatering offers for the property. Almost all the other houses in the neighborhood were owned by members of the High Command or high-ranking members of their Staff. Tilo and Lenz had seen to it that she had several live in assistants. Beyond that, Tilo’s sisters Hana and Ava lived nearby, as two of the thousands of Civilian Workers in the nearby sprawling office complex that was the OKW.
As Tilo entered the house, he found his mother watching a gameshow on television. “Good evening Dietrich” His mother said with a toothless smile as he entered the room as she was looking at him with those sightless eyes.
“I bet the look on your face is good” Helga said with a laugh. “Esther saw you pull up in your car and told me over the phone.”
Esther, the lifelong friend of Tilo’s mother and the widow of Grand Admiral Jacob von Schmidt lived next door. Going back to Tilo’s childhood, he doubted that a leaf fell in the neighborhood without the two of them being aware of it.
“We need to talk about the little game you have been playing on Gretchen” Tilo said.
“Don’t take that tone with me Dietrich” Helga said, “You sound like your father, and do you remember how that worked out for him?”
Tilo was probably more aware of his father’s actions with Abwehr and later with the BND than most people were. Still, Tilo’s mother had been more than a match for his father when it came to bloody minded skullduggery. Apparently, she had not missed a step.
“Why though?” Tilo asked.
“Most of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren are lost causes” Helga said, “I feel that Gretchen actually has a chance to break the cycle of idiocy and illegitimacy that has plagued this family. Karl told me all about that boy, Erich Raeder, and making sure that she meets a nice boy from a good family is worth a shot.”
As annoying as it was for Tilo, he couldn’t argue with his mother’s reasoning.
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I actually burst out laughing and into a coughing fit here. Never mess with the Matriarch......
Oh, good, I had been wondering what Erik had been up to. I hope we get to hear more of his escapades as a postal inspector: drug busts, mail bombs, various poisons, mail fraud, etc., etc.
Erich is doomed, DOOMED, I tell you!! A Power far stronger than he can possibly imagine are afoot, and his fate is but Her plaything. Luckily for him, She provides some protection from Tilo... as Tilo just discovered. We haven't seen someone this doomed since Kat's little brother Stephen got himself hooked and landed before he realised it by the Mad Dog's beloved daughter Nihoni.