My father was undergoing flight training at the NAS in San Diego when the were filming Dive Bomber. He spoke highly of Fred McMurray and Ralph Bellamy. Of Errol Flynn, all I remember was Dad's comment that Flynn was too busy chasing skirts.
Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
That is one movie that still would have been made ITTL as the USN was ramping up to fight a possible war against Japan.
Part 151, Chapter 2738
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Thirty-Eight
5th December 1978
In transit, East China Sea
The SMS Cuxhaven was steaming north as the 7th Regiment was returning home to Pusan. After the conclusion of what had been deemed a successful campaign the Oberst was being unusually generous. The locker containing the Battalion’s “Rum rations” which was actually Schnapps and locally produced Arrack that they had taken aboard in Jakarta, had been opened and the Ship’s Purser had happily given out bottles to whoever asked. The result was a festive atmosphere even if it wasn’t really a party. Everyone was looking forward to the sort of greeting that they expected when they returned to port.
Muller had been leading the 1st Platoon since Leutnant Raeder had been evacuated, which mostly consisted of keeping the men out of trouble. He was certain that the Leutnant had been sent home to recover considering the dearth of actual information. Muller just hoped that they wouldn’t force him to wait around too long before Generalfeldmarschall Deitrich “Tilo” Schultz had him shot for responding to Gretchen Schultz’s letters. They tended to send Marine’s to the Military Hospital in Hamburg which was relatively close to Kiel and Wilhelmshaven. If Muller were in the Leutnant’s shoes he would be getting out of there even if he had to crawl before General Tilo got around to him.
Descending into the quarters that the Platoon occupied, Muller saw that there was an ongoing card game taking place. He knew that he would need to keep an eye on it, ready to step in if the stakes got too steep. At the moment they were still playing for loose change, not the sort of thing that anyone would start a fight over. Curiously it was Schütze Sam Beltz who was cleaning up in the card game. Over the course of the campaign Beltz had come into his own. Muller knew that you grew up fast when you having bullets flying past your head. When they got to Pusan it was likely that Beltz would be up for promotion as the Platoon’s losses were replaced. It remained to be seen if Beltz was someone who would become a leader or would remain one of the doers, only time would tell.
“Happy to be going home Sarge?” Sean Flynn asked.
“As much as anywhere is home these days” Muller replied.
Muller had not seen the Photographer sitting in the corner. Despite the language differences, Flynn had been accepted by the men faster than Muller would have thought possible. The fact that his were presence was being tolerated suggested at much. Word was that the Captain of the Cuxhaven had been instructed to get Flynn to Pusan. The article that Flynn had written had run in newspapers around the world, it was said that the High Command was extremely interested in that article and what he had said about the Captain of the SMS Ozelot. It was the sort of thing that created reputations or destroyed them. Muller had seen for himself how the Flotilla had run at the first sign of shore fire and there had been allegations of cowardice. The thing was that those allegations were horseshit. The truth was worse from Muller’s perspective, the Captain of the Ozelot was pompous windbag who had the understanding that ships were expensive, the lives of the Marines were not. While Muller had told his men to cut out the wild talk about acting themselves, he really hoped that a Court of Honor would draw and quarter that worthless prick.
“Mind telling me how a kid from Tecate ended up in the German Marines?” Flynn asked in Spanish.
Muller just snorted at that question. He had actually been born in Cuxhaven, but he doubted that Flynn would understand the half of it.
Mitte, Berlin
It had been years since Kiki had been in the Medical Service’s Hall in the Imperial War Museum. It was smaller than most of the exhibition halls dedicated to the various Service Branches and had taken on the role as the Museum’s secular chapel. The hall itself was of green marble and everything about the place was meant to promote peace and healing. Kiki had been told that it had become a popular venue for weddings. General Paul von Lettow-Vorbeck, the first Director of the Museum, along with two members of his family had been interred in a vault below the hall. There had been burials in other parts of the Museum in the years since, but that wasn’t quite the same. Freddy and Suga were here with their children along with Ben and Nina. Kiki had realized that something was up as her father and stepmother had entered the hall as well.
Kiki was watching as her banner was rehung from the ceiling. It had been updated to reflect her latest honors at the same time it had been cleaned. An orange stripe and Star of the Order of the Black Eagle had already been added.
“I am glad that you decided to come” Freddy said, all smiles.
He had been promising a surprise, which Kiki found annoying. Apparently the Order of the Black Eagle was not it.
“Can we get on with it?” Kiki asked.
“You’ll love this” Freddy said, “I knew that you would hate anything that was too personal and wasn’t too sure how to do this. Suga came up with the idea that you would prefer it to be dedicated to emergency medicine in general and the FSR.”
Mirai, Freddy’s oldest daughter was gleeful as she was looking up at one of the stained-glass windows that lined the hall. This one was covered by a canvas sheet. Freddy nodded and two workers took down the covering. The new window was from the perspective of a patient looking up at helicopter as it was directly overhead, the sun was directly behind the Field Surgeon leaning out the door like the halo given to a saint. Kiki had been there several times as they had hoisted a stretcher up to a helicopter. Was that really how they saw her?
5th December 1978
In transit, East China Sea
The SMS Cuxhaven was steaming north as the 7th Regiment was returning home to Pusan. After the conclusion of what had been deemed a successful campaign the Oberst was being unusually generous. The locker containing the Battalion’s “Rum rations” which was actually Schnapps and locally produced Arrack that they had taken aboard in Jakarta, had been opened and the Ship’s Purser had happily given out bottles to whoever asked. The result was a festive atmosphere even if it wasn’t really a party. Everyone was looking forward to the sort of greeting that they expected when they returned to port.
Muller had been leading the 1st Platoon since Leutnant Raeder had been evacuated, which mostly consisted of keeping the men out of trouble. He was certain that the Leutnant had been sent home to recover considering the dearth of actual information. Muller just hoped that they wouldn’t force him to wait around too long before Generalfeldmarschall Deitrich “Tilo” Schultz had him shot for responding to Gretchen Schultz’s letters. They tended to send Marine’s to the Military Hospital in Hamburg which was relatively close to Kiel and Wilhelmshaven. If Muller were in the Leutnant’s shoes he would be getting out of there even if he had to crawl before General Tilo got around to him.
Descending into the quarters that the Platoon occupied, Muller saw that there was an ongoing card game taking place. He knew that he would need to keep an eye on it, ready to step in if the stakes got too steep. At the moment they were still playing for loose change, not the sort of thing that anyone would start a fight over. Curiously it was Schütze Sam Beltz who was cleaning up in the card game. Over the course of the campaign Beltz had come into his own. Muller knew that you grew up fast when you having bullets flying past your head. When they got to Pusan it was likely that Beltz would be up for promotion as the Platoon’s losses were replaced. It remained to be seen if Beltz was someone who would become a leader or would remain one of the doers, only time would tell.
“Happy to be going home Sarge?” Sean Flynn asked.
“As much as anywhere is home these days” Muller replied.
Muller had not seen the Photographer sitting in the corner. Despite the language differences, Flynn had been accepted by the men faster than Muller would have thought possible. The fact that his were presence was being tolerated suggested at much. Word was that the Captain of the Cuxhaven had been instructed to get Flynn to Pusan. The article that Flynn had written had run in newspapers around the world, it was said that the High Command was extremely interested in that article and what he had said about the Captain of the SMS Ozelot. It was the sort of thing that created reputations or destroyed them. Muller had seen for himself how the Flotilla had run at the first sign of shore fire and there had been allegations of cowardice. The thing was that those allegations were horseshit. The truth was worse from Muller’s perspective, the Captain of the Ozelot was pompous windbag who had the understanding that ships were expensive, the lives of the Marines were not. While Muller had told his men to cut out the wild talk about acting themselves, he really hoped that a Court of Honor would draw and quarter that worthless prick.
“Mind telling me how a kid from Tecate ended up in the German Marines?” Flynn asked in Spanish.
Muller just snorted at that question. He had actually been born in Cuxhaven, but he doubted that Flynn would understand the half of it.
Mitte, Berlin
It had been years since Kiki had been in the Medical Service’s Hall in the Imperial War Museum. It was smaller than most of the exhibition halls dedicated to the various Service Branches and had taken on the role as the Museum’s secular chapel. The hall itself was of green marble and everything about the place was meant to promote peace and healing. Kiki had been told that it had become a popular venue for weddings. General Paul von Lettow-Vorbeck, the first Director of the Museum, along with two members of his family had been interred in a vault below the hall. There had been burials in other parts of the Museum in the years since, but that wasn’t quite the same. Freddy and Suga were here with their children along with Ben and Nina. Kiki had realized that something was up as her father and stepmother had entered the hall as well.
Kiki was watching as her banner was rehung from the ceiling. It had been updated to reflect her latest honors at the same time it had been cleaned. An orange stripe and Star of the Order of the Black Eagle had already been added.
“I am glad that you decided to come” Freddy said, all smiles.
He had been promising a surprise, which Kiki found annoying. Apparently the Order of the Black Eagle was not it.
“Can we get on with it?” Kiki asked.
“You’ll love this” Freddy said, “I knew that you would hate anything that was too personal and wasn’t too sure how to do this. Suga came up with the idea that you would prefer it to be dedicated to emergency medicine in general and the FSR.”
Mirai, Freddy’s oldest daughter was gleeful as she was looking up at one of the stained-glass windows that lined the hall. This one was covered by a canvas sheet. Freddy nodded and two workers took down the covering. The new window was from the perspective of a patient looking up at helicopter as it was directly overhead, the sun was directly behind the Field Surgeon leaning out the door like the halo given to a saint. Kiki had been there several times as they had hoisted a stretcher up to a helicopter. Was that really how they saw her?
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Yes.
As a completely surreal moment. I met one of Kiki's relatives in the real world today.
Each and every one of them, including her husband.
That said, I am wondering how they're going to honour both Emil and Kat when the time comes. Probably something to do with their respective felines, the Lion and the Tigress.
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Yes indeed. Ask any German Marine who’d been through the Korean campaign about the ‘Angel(s) of Anju’.
Very powerful imagery. Is there anyone in the group who can take a stab at rendering it?
A very nice send off for Kiki as it honors her service, but not in anyways identifying her specifically.
Kiki after years of medical service in various ways, has found the type of medicine that she wants to do, and that is a small hospital, working a variety of cases in a personal manner that connects her with her patience, along with doing clinics that do not receive regular medical care.
Maybe Ben will get his own airplane just like his Father-in-law has and fly Kiki to remote areas.
The Captain of the SMS Cuxhaven is in big trouble, as the senior officers that are going to review what happened at the last engagement all served under either Grand Admiral von Raeder or Grand Admiral von Schmidt or both at various times in their careers.
For a Captain in the KLM to act in the way that the Captain of the Cuxhaven is alleged to have done, is an insult to the very Traditions of the KLM and will not be excused.
The captain's best bet is to have a "Family Emergency" that will allow him to fly back to Germany before the ship gets back and get his story out first amongst his cronies in order to undermined whatever the crew of the Cuxhaven, the Marine Infantry detachment, and more importantly whatever Sean Flynn has to say because even through Sean is an American, he has been a thorn to the side of the US Government and Military throughout the years.
Kiki after years of medical service in various ways, has found the type of medicine that she wants to do, and that is a small hospital, working a variety of cases in a personal manner that connects her with her patience, along with doing clinics that do not receive regular medical care.
Maybe Ben will get his own airplane just like his Father-in-law has and fly Kiki to remote areas.
The Captain of the SMS Cuxhaven is in big trouble, as the senior officers that are going to review what happened at the last engagement all served under either Grand Admiral von Raeder or Grand Admiral von Schmidt or both at various times in their careers.
For a Captain in the KLM to act in the way that the Captain of the Cuxhaven is alleged to have done, is an insult to the very Traditions of the KLM and will not be excused.
The captain's best bet is to have a "Family Emergency" that will allow him to fly back to Germany before the ship gets back and get his story out first amongst his cronies in order to undermined whatever the crew of the Cuxhaven, the Marine Infantry detachment, and more importantly whatever Sean Flynn has to say because even through Sean is an American, he has been a thorn to the side of the US Government and Military throughout the years.
Stick a fork in him, he's done basically. He won't get back in time because they already have what they need for an investigation leading to a general court marshal. Chances are they already have people talking about him and if he does decide to come back because of a "Family Emergency" they are going to be all over it to make sure it is a real emergency.
It is not the Captain of the SMS Cuxhaven, that is an Amphibious Warfare Ship. The flagship of the Flotilla is SMS Ozelot, a Corvette, and her Captain is the one who is going to get cooked.
I wonder if Prince Consort Contraamiral Louis Ferdinand of Hohenzollern-Romania knows him?
Part 151, Chapter 2739
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Thirty-Nine
10th December 1978
Dublin, Ireland
Bridget had an open invitation to Marie Alexandra to have Sunday dinner with Jack’s family. It was an easy way to keep an eye on her. What student wouldn’t be interested in a free meal? Tonight though she had seemed troubled, it wasn’t until they had gotten a chance to talk in Jack’s office that she had told him what was going on.
“I cannot do this” Marie said as she set the accordion file on Jack’s desk. “You see this as a way to bookend your legal career by getting a win where you basically forced a tie thirty years ago. But at what cost?”
Jack had known that this was coming, what he had not considered was that she would see his motives as an issue. He had thought that it would be the contents of the file itself. They did cut very close to home for Marie. Her mother and her friend Henriette were both the sort who ended up in the laundries.
“Is that your only reason?” Jack asked mildly.
Marie stared at him with the sort of angry determined look that he recognized from her mother. It was the sort of look that Katherine von Mischner had when she was discussing the castration of a man who could see the karambit in her hand and had done something to make her very angry. Jack had only been a witness to her doing that once, but it still gave him chills. Arguing with Marie when she was like this was pointless.
“I’ve seen them, not your prospective plaintiffs, but hundreds of others” Marie replied, “You made it sound as if this were a historical practice, not an ongoing one.”
“I am surprised that you were able to get into such a place” Jack said.
“You will find that I am full of surprises.”
Jack had heard the rumors about Marie, that she was some sort of a master of disguise. At the same time it would be extremely difficult for her to hide what she was. Marie was saying that she infiltrated what was essentially a prison and had left after she had learned all she could. There were probably several Nuns who were trying to figure out what had happened to a quiet Novice who they had only noticed briefly before she had vanished if he had to guess.
“And that made you want to quit?” Jack asked.
“That made me see that we would be opening a huge can of worms” Marie replied, “The Church uses the fact that these women have nowhere to go to control them. You win this case and what becomes of them?”
“I would assume that they would get their lives back” Jack replied.
“You assume?” Marie asked, “Do I need to tell you why that is not good enough?”
“It is extremely easy for you say that” Jack replied, “I have learned that in order to end a tradition in this country, you need to tear it out by the root and let the chips fall where they may.”
“As I asked before, at what cost?” Marie said, “In my experience it is always those like me who pay it.”
Funny, Jack thought to himself. The aspects of Marie that he thought would make this case irresistible for her had caused her to take this course of action. It seemed that despite knowing what Marie was capable of, Jack might have underestimated her.
Cuxhaven
It was odd to be back in Cuxhaven without the rest of the 3rd Division which wasn’t due to rotate back until March. People saw the Division Patch on Erich’s shoulder along with the new shoulder-boards that identified him as an Oberleutnant and assumed that he played a role in the training cadre that was always present in the Military Reservation that extended south from Cuxhaven proper.
Erich had been sent to Cuxhaven to complete his recuperation with the idea that the Division would figure out what to do with him once he was medically cleared, that would take some time because his leg was taking an annoyingly long time to heal.
Mostly, he had knocked about Cuxhaven and hung around in the lounge of the defunct Hamburg-America terminal. The formality required in the Officer’s Club in Nordholz was something that Erich did not want to deal with, the staff saw that he was Freiherr von Raeder and nothing else. Someone in Division Administration must have known where he was because the bartender in the Hamburg-America Lounge had given him a message that his presence had been requested at the Headquarters of the 3rd Division.
Getting into the VW Iltis that he had “borrowed” from the motor pool, Erich drove south wondering what Division wanted while the rhythm of the windshield wipers made him wish that Cuxhaven would have a nice heatwave as opposed to the icy rain that was threatening to turn to snow. Erich was waved into the Nordholz Airfield, the first thing he saw was a large transport with Marine markings taxiing to a stop. Sealions returning from parts unknown was the rumor that he had heard about those flights. That sort of thing was above his paygrade.
On entering Headquarters, Erich saw that it was just as cold and impersonal as he had remembered it. With growing apprehension, Erich noticed that he was being directed to the offices that were normally occupied by the Generalleutnant who commanded the 3rd Division, but he was in Korea. A door was opened for Erich, and he couldn’t help but notice that two bruisers from the Sealions were standing on either side. Seated behind the desk was man whose face was well known to everyone in the Marine Infantry from the rawest recruit on up, Generalfeldmarschall Tilo Schutz. Erich’s mind kind of short circuited as he scrambled to think of a way to talk his way out of this particular mess.
“Quite an impressive name you’ve made for yourself recently in the East Indies, Oberleutnant” Tilo said, “EK2 with an EK1 pending, wound badge in black, meritorious promotion, of course that all depends on what you have to say about the investigation into the conduct of Kapitan-zur-See Beutel.”
“What am I supposed to say Sir?” Erich asked.
“The truth is pretty damning” Tilo replied, “I would expect you to say nothing less. Do you have anything else to say for yourself?”
“Please don’t kill me” Erich blurted out.
“Why would I do that?” Tilo asked.
“Gretchen, your daughter, wrote letters to me” Erich replied.
Tilo seemed amused by that.
“You might want to write her back” Tilo said, “She heard that you were injured and wants to hear from you.”
“So you don’t have a problem with this?” Erich asked, knowing how unlikely that seemed.
“No, I have a lot of problems with that” Tilo replied, “But so long as your intentions are honorable, I can refrain from having you shot.”
“Thank you, Sir” Erich said with a great deal of relief.
“Don’t thank me yet” Tilo said, “I need you to do me a personal favor.”
Something about the way Tilo said that causes the hairs on the back of Erich’s neck to stand on end.
10th December 1978
Dublin, Ireland
Bridget had an open invitation to Marie Alexandra to have Sunday dinner with Jack’s family. It was an easy way to keep an eye on her. What student wouldn’t be interested in a free meal? Tonight though she had seemed troubled, it wasn’t until they had gotten a chance to talk in Jack’s office that she had told him what was going on.
“I cannot do this” Marie said as she set the accordion file on Jack’s desk. “You see this as a way to bookend your legal career by getting a win where you basically forced a tie thirty years ago. But at what cost?”
Jack had known that this was coming, what he had not considered was that she would see his motives as an issue. He had thought that it would be the contents of the file itself. They did cut very close to home for Marie. Her mother and her friend Henriette were both the sort who ended up in the laundries.
“Is that your only reason?” Jack asked mildly.
Marie stared at him with the sort of angry determined look that he recognized from her mother. It was the sort of look that Katherine von Mischner had when she was discussing the castration of a man who could see the karambit in her hand and had done something to make her very angry. Jack had only been a witness to her doing that once, but it still gave him chills. Arguing with Marie when she was like this was pointless.
“I’ve seen them, not your prospective plaintiffs, but hundreds of others” Marie replied, “You made it sound as if this were a historical practice, not an ongoing one.”
“I am surprised that you were able to get into such a place” Jack said.
“You will find that I am full of surprises.”
Jack had heard the rumors about Marie, that she was some sort of a master of disguise. At the same time it would be extremely difficult for her to hide what she was. Marie was saying that she infiltrated what was essentially a prison and had left after she had learned all she could. There were probably several Nuns who were trying to figure out what had happened to a quiet Novice who they had only noticed briefly before she had vanished if he had to guess.
“And that made you want to quit?” Jack asked.
“That made me see that we would be opening a huge can of worms” Marie replied, “The Church uses the fact that these women have nowhere to go to control them. You win this case and what becomes of them?”
“I would assume that they would get their lives back” Jack replied.
“You assume?” Marie asked, “Do I need to tell you why that is not good enough?”
“It is extremely easy for you say that” Jack replied, “I have learned that in order to end a tradition in this country, you need to tear it out by the root and let the chips fall where they may.”
“As I asked before, at what cost?” Marie said, “In my experience it is always those like me who pay it.”
Funny, Jack thought to himself. The aspects of Marie that he thought would make this case irresistible for her had caused her to take this course of action. It seemed that despite knowing what Marie was capable of, Jack might have underestimated her.
Cuxhaven
It was odd to be back in Cuxhaven without the rest of the 3rd Division which wasn’t due to rotate back until March. People saw the Division Patch on Erich’s shoulder along with the new shoulder-boards that identified him as an Oberleutnant and assumed that he played a role in the training cadre that was always present in the Military Reservation that extended south from Cuxhaven proper.
Erich had been sent to Cuxhaven to complete his recuperation with the idea that the Division would figure out what to do with him once he was medically cleared, that would take some time because his leg was taking an annoyingly long time to heal.
Mostly, he had knocked about Cuxhaven and hung around in the lounge of the defunct Hamburg-America terminal. The formality required in the Officer’s Club in Nordholz was something that Erich did not want to deal with, the staff saw that he was Freiherr von Raeder and nothing else. Someone in Division Administration must have known where he was because the bartender in the Hamburg-America Lounge had given him a message that his presence had been requested at the Headquarters of the 3rd Division.
Getting into the VW Iltis that he had “borrowed” from the motor pool, Erich drove south wondering what Division wanted while the rhythm of the windshield wipers made him wish that Cuxhaven would have a nice heatwave as opposed to the icy rain that was threatening to turn to snow. Erich was waved into the Nordholz Airfield, the first thing he saw was a large transport with Marine markings taxiing to a stop. Sealions returning from parts unknown was the rumor that he had heard about those flights. That sort of thing was above his paygrade.
On entering Headquarters, Erich saw that it was just as cold and impersonal as he had remembered it. With growing apprehension, Erich noticed that he was being directed to the offices that were normally occupied by the Generalleutnant who commanded the 3rd Division, but he was in Korea. A door was opened for Erich, and he couldn’t help but notice that two bruisers from the Sealions were standing on either side. Seated behind the desk was man whose face was well known to everyone in the Marine Infantry from the rawest recruit on up, Generalfeldmarschall Tilo Schutz. Erich’s mind kind of short circuited as he scrambled to think of a way to talk his way out of this particular mess.
“Quite an impressive name you’ve made for yourself recently in the East Indies, Oberleutnant” Tilo said, “EK2 with an EK1 pending, wound badge in black, meritorious promotion, of course that all depends on what you have to say about the investigation into the conduct of Kapitan-zur-See Beutel.”
“What am I supposed to say Sir?” Erich asked.
“The truth is pretty damning” Tilo replied, “I would expect you to say nothing less. Do you have anything else to say for yourself?”
“Please don’t kill me” Erich blurted out.
“Why would I do that?” Tilo asked.
“Gretchen, your daughter, wrote letters to me” Erich replied.
Tilo seemed amused by that.
“You might want to write her back” Tilo said, “She heard that you were injured and wants to hear from you.”
“So you don’t have a problem with this?” Erich asked, knowing how unlikely that seemed.
“No, I have a lot of problems with that” Tilo replied, “But so long as your intentions are honorable, I can refrain from having you shot.”
“Thank you, Sir” Erich said with a great deal of relief.
“Don’t thank me yet” Tilo said, “I need you to do me a personal favor.”
Something about the way Tilo said that causes the hairs on the back of Erich’s neck to stand on end.
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Someone is now being entered into the fold so to speak. Who will stand and vouch for this person? Has the acolyte been properly prepared and sworn to secrecy? Do they know what the consequences are for them for failing to keep the secrets?
Stay; tuned as we find out what is going to happen to Eric, that and have we shipped him and Gretchen yet? Granadma Schultz has spoken so that should be enough.
Stay; tuned as we find out what is going to happen to Eric, that and have we shipped him and Gretchen yet? Granadma Schultz has spoken so that should be enough.
There are two possible outcomes to this.
In one of them, after the favour Erich Raeder has a short, but glorious, career counting Polar Bears* in the Antarctic.
In the other, some time around 1995, Generalfeldmarschall Erich Von Raeder becomes the first Marine to head up the joint chiefs of staff, (equivalent), in the German military.
*Like counting penguins, but far, far less interesting.
The equivalent would be the Commander in Chief of the Military High Command. Whoever presides in that Office answers directly to the Chancellor of the Reichstag and the Minister of War. He in turn is the Chief Cat Herder whose job is to keep the six Service Branches (Army, Navy, Airforce, Pioneers, Central Medical, and Intelligence) all pulling in the same direction despite overlapping responsibilities and constant turf wars.
"And if I comply?" Erich's question was purely academic, he had no intention of tempting fate and rejecting the commandant of the Marine Corps.
"Then when/if I shoot you I'll aim for the head and not below the navel as I originally intended." Tilo replied with a smirk.
Counting Polar Bears in Antarctica is dead easy. The trick is knowing where to look and once you find them, you are guaranteed to enter the history books.
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Re: Tilo's "favour"... I'm guessing that his mother wants to meet Erich to see if he truly does meet her standards regarding his future status as a grandson-in-law. Perhaps over dinner that weekend?
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It is worse than that. This is happening in mid-December. Think about that.
Why does my brain turn to the Winter Social Season in certain circles?