Once again a little historical perspective from my upbringing.

My mother was born and raised in Detroit in the 30's and 40's and she told me how it was the the southern whites who started the 1943 Detroit Riots because they were competing with blacks from the South for jobs and housing during the war.

The southern whites did not like how the United Audio Workers would fight for equal pay and equal housing for everyone and they would attack black men at the beaches and parks in order to make them "White Only".

My mother also told me how the northern whites hated the southern whites and sometimes would side with the black people and protect them, she told how her father was very bigoted against black people but he always went out of his way to get in between the southern whites and blacks because he was an immigrant from France and during the Great War he served as an interpreter for American units who were under French command, and those were mainly segregated units and a black soldier stopped him from picking up a souvenir from a dead German soldier which was a booty trap.
 
The grim brilliance of the vagrancy laws was that they introduced socialized slavery. Now you no longer had to feed, clothe, and house your involuntary labor force, because the government took care of that.

Other charges, with longer incarceration times, were often trumped up. In tome times and places, it would be rare for anyone to be acquitted unless they were white.
 
Sag ja zu dem Kleid!* This is a sidesplittingly hilarious cameo and alternate history for Rohm.

Let's see:

Hitler - Stumpy
Goebbels - Popsicle
Heydrich - Sadistic prison guard who ends up very dead
Himmler - forgot what happened to him
Goering - Veterans Hospital rehab patient and aide
Rohm - Fashion Designer
Stauffenburg - Officious, snobbish leader of Hans's unit
Rommel - Cavalry officer overshadowed by Wovogole
Himmler may have remained an agronomist, as he were before Hitler and the Nazi. His nickname (from people who didn't like him very much, usually the Prussian military blue-bloods) was the Chicken Farmer.
 
My mother also told me how the northern whites hated the southern whites and sometimes would side with the black people and protect them, she told how her father was very bigoted against black people but he always went out of his way to get in between the southern whites and blacks because he was an immigrant from France and during the Great War he served as an interpreter for American units who were under French command, and those were mainly segregated units and a black soldier stopped him from picking up a souvenir from a dead German soldier which was a booty trap.

There's a saying that (traditional) white Southerners hate the Black race but love individual Blacks, and that (traditional) white Northerners care for the Black race only in general but can't stand individual Blacks.

The funny thing about institutions is that the latter is a MUCH better place for a disfavored minority than getting individualized personal favor in a system that hates you.
 
Part 37, Chapter 448
Chapter Four Hundred Forty-Eight


19th February 1945

Havana, Cuba

Johann Schultz had tried to resume his vacation but the world seemed to be conspiring to prevent that from happening. He had flown back to Havana from Washington DC just in time to learn that Tilo had rejoined his Regiment after spending a month’s leave in Vietnam. He didn’t know if he was both proud of his son and wanted to throttle him at the same time. He had pulled a lot of strings to get Tilo transferred to a noncombat posting in Cuxhaven. The selfish little shit his youngest son had been a few years earlier would have jumped at an opportunity like that. What had happened? Schultz had learned that because Tilo had served with distinction over several campaigns in the Pacific War they were looking at his potential to play a larger role in his Regiment. That made Schultz wonder if they were even talking about the same person.

Then there was a message from Martzel Ibarra, he had continued his infiltration of the Manhattan Project but to have complete operational security he had seen fit to remove the Rosenbergs from anything to do with it. They along with their children were currently being smuggled out of the United States via Mexico. It was with the understanding that it was in their interest to cooperate, lest the airplane’s cargo door get opened and the load get lightened over the Atlantic. They were bound for protective relocation somewhere in Poland, a far kinder fate then if Schultz had turned them over to J. Edger Hoover. He had been sorely tempted to do that, the FBI Director always was game for nailing a Red or two to the wall. But they had seen Martzel so they were about to get an education in how the proletariat really lived wiring villages for electricity in a place where that was the absolute height of decadence.

Schultz finally got out of the Embassy in time to meet Helga who was spending the day in the marketplace. She loved this place for the tropical warmth, the friendliness and the easygoing lifestyle. Schultz wasn’t about to enlighten her about how it was just as much a facade as the plaster on the buildings. Revolutionary politics was just as much the undercurrent here as it was throughout the Spanish speaking portions of the Americas. He was going to have to tell her about Tilo’s choice, that would make her unhappy. Tilo was still her baby regardless of how much time had passed. Jost and Lenz had always been Schultz’s sons, each of them having taken on a different aspect of him. Jost was ruthless, a true warrior but he was known to like his dog more than the men of his Company. Lenz was a thinker, always a step ahead. Tilo on the other hand was like his mother, always seeking deeper meanings. Evidently Tilo had found something that he believed in and Schultz hoped that wouldn’t get him killed because Helga would probably never recover from that.


Saint Petersburg, Russia

After months of effort Vladimir had finally gotten a description of Jehane Thomas and was left feeling like a total heel. The girl that the housekeeper who worked for Katherine von Mischner had described was absolutely no threat to him. Petia Fydorova said that she had come around the house in the company of Gianna Strobel and that she was actually rather pitiful. A small mousy young woman who at the age of sixteen had already been advised that she shouldn’t have children because she exhibited signs of being a carrier of same severe form of hemophilia that had afflicted Alexi Romanov. Having nearly died once at the hands of the NKVD she refused to take anyone’s word that they were no longer a threat and jumped at her own shadow.

It was obvious to Vladimir why Kira and the Freiherrin had gone to such lengths to hide the girl. Jehane wasn’t even a good candidate for dynastic marriage. To tell Kira that he regretted it if he had caused Jehane any undue stress by looking for her would reveal that he had considered the poor girl a threat in the first place.


Berlin

“Again” Kat said.

Gianna looked at her wondering how had the seemingly endless reserves of strength to even still be on her feet. She had done everything that Gianna was now doing, just with a lot more intensity. Gianna’s legs felt rubbery while at the same time seemed to weigh as much as if they were made of lead. Kat was having her punching and kicking the sand filled army duffle bag after doing the exercises that Kat did every day.

“Can we take a break?” Gianna asked.

“No” Kat said, “It’s about building up endurance, everywhere you go there will be people bigger and stronger than you. If you can keep them from overpowering you in the first few seconds you can gain an advantage.”

Gianna had decided that it was time to take Kat up on the offer that she had made to teach her how to fight. She hadn’t done it because she wanted to learn to be a fighter per say but because of a comment that Aunt Marcella had made. That Kat wouldn’t come right out and say it but she considered her a little sister and feared that if Gianna reclaimed her identity as Jehane then Kat would lose her. Having Kat as a teacher like this would be something else that they could bond over and it was not like Gianna was actually going anywhere. But then Kat wasn’t always very rational when it came to other people. With that she concluded the series of kicks and punches.

“Good” Kat said with a smile, “Now we can take a break.”

“Thank God” Gianna said, “How do you do this after running several kilometers?”

“You’ll find out when we start you on that in a few weeks” Kat said, “This is just the light stuff.”

Gianna heard that and wondered if those out there who said that Kat was a bit insane might have a point.
 
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Whites wouldn't be charged.
Whites wouldn't be charged with what were considered minor crimes such as vagrancy or killing a colored person. Whites could and would be charged for crimes against other white people. From what my father and others told me, having a Yankee accent and or license plate when in the south was a good way to end up in trouble with the cops in some areas, too, in the 40's and 50's. At a minimum, a speeding ticket when going the limit was common.

Interesting post--Tilo might, in the end, bring some non-monotheistic religion/philosophy back to Germany, along with enough adhesive so they stick.

I am still awed at the pace and quality that this tale materializes.
 
Whites wouldn't be charged with what were considered minor crimes such as vagrancy or killing a colored person. Whites could and would be charged for crimes against other white people. From what my father and others told me, having a Yankee accent and or license plate when in the south was a good way to end up in trouble with the cops in some areas, too, in the 40's and 50's. At a minimum, a speeding ticket when going the limit was common.

Interesting post--Tilo might, in the end, bring some non-monotheistic religion/philosophy back to Germany, along with enough adhesive so they stick.

I am still awed at the pace and quality that this tale materializes.

There are still places all over the US not just the South where an out of state license plate gets you targeted for tickets. Little podunk towns that annex a few miles of freeway so they can setup speed traps. It used to be they would take you down to the court house and make you pay the ticket before you leave the city limits but that's died out with the spread of online pay.
 
“Did Vladimir’s men approach you again?” Kat asked.

“Yes” Petia said, “They made me an offer and I got them to double it.”

“Double it?” Kat asked with a smile, that was impressive.

“Yeah” Petia said with her, dry raspy laugh.

“Good” Kat said, “Tomorrow morning we’re going to go over the information that you are going to give them.”

“Sure thing, Sestra” Petia said, “What do you want to do with the money?” Petia had called Kat Sestra, the Russian word for sister as most of the women Prisoners of War tended to do. When they had read the article, they had mostly concluded that Kat had helped them to the extent she had because unlike almost all of the Germans they had encountered she was truly one of them, nationality aside.

“It’s your money, Petia” Kat answered, “Do whatever you want with it.”

“Thank you, Katya” Petia said as Kat closed the garage doors.

Schultz would be so proud.

After months of effort Vladimir had finally gotten a description of Jehane Thomas and was left feeling like a total heel.

Jehane wasn’t even a good candidate for dynastic marriage. To tell Kira that he regretted it if he had caused Jehane any undue stress by looking for her would reveal that he had considered the poor girl a threat in the first place.

Vladimir is so desperate he'd get suckered into buying interests in a rice farm in West Texas. He's the guy that you could sell a $100K Lexus to for $150K, and it's not that he doesn't care about money because he has so much, it's because he's that desperately stupid.
 
Also, did any of the captured Soviets get the Julius Streicher hanging treatment? Or did they get the falbeil looking up treatment the Nazis sometimes did?
 
Vladimir is so desperate he'd get suckered into buying interests in a rice farm in West Texas. He's the guy that you could sell a $100K Lexus to for $150K, and it's not that he doesn't care about money because he has so much, it's because he's that desperately stupid.

I don't consider Vladimir to be stupid, it's just that his ambition outstrips his actual abilities.
 
Interesting post--Tilo might, in the end, bring some non-monotheistic religion/philosophy back to Germany, along with enough adhesive so they stick.

Instead of Hindu/Buddhist thought via the UK influencing Western philosophy and culture like IOTL, what if we get East Asian religion via Germany here?
 
Part 37, Chapter 449
Chapter Four Hundred Forty-Nine


21st February 1945

Berlin

They were walking through the Tiergarten, the walkways had been shoveled but there was still a great deal of snow on the fields. The branches of the trees were still bare but there was a feel that Spring was just around the corner. Peter noticed that Kat wasn’t even making the slightest nod to fashion or style today. She was wearing a long black wool coat and a grey scarf, he could see the old combat boots poking out from underneath and suspected that she was wearing the grey coveralls that had been issued to her by the Luftwaffe. Beyond wearing that for warmth, she wore it like a suit of armor when she was feeling vulnerable and depressed. If she hadn’t agreed to talk with him this evening then she would probably have locked herself into her bedroom. Then there was the subject they were talking about. In Peter’s opinion, she had gone a bit too far in one of her latest escapades.

“That was probably something that you shouldn’t have used” Peter said, “There is still a possibility that Jehane is a carrier but is asymptomatic unlike her Aunt Anastasia.”

“I know that but we needed Vladimir to back off” Kat said, “Hemophilia was the sort of thing that would send him scrambling for cover.”

Peter suspected who “we” was in this case knew that these were incredibly deep waters. Kat supposedly talked every move regarding Jehane over with the Empress before she made it.

“Do I need to mention that her family also has a history of variegate porphyria” Peter said, “George the 3rd for example or your friend Feodora if the rumors are true.”

“Please don’t bring Feodora into this” Kat said, “She has enough troubles.”

In spite of Feodora’s triumphs as the Grand Patroness of the Arts for the whole of the Empire she had grown increasingly erratic in recent days. She’d had difficulties for as long as Kat had known her but she really lost the plot this time. Kat had found herself on the phone talking to Georg, the second cousin and Heir who Feodora didn’t trust or like at all. They were having to make arrangements for her care and Kat was one of the few people who could still get through to her.

“That’s still going on?” Peter asked.

“They’re worried that she’ll do some sort of self-harm” Kat replied, “And I can hardly handle issues like that in my own life.”

That comment actually surprised Peter, Kat had never admitted to the nature of her own troubles to that extent before. While only one thing Kat had done could have been called a suicide attempt there had been many times when she had thrown herself into situations where she clearly didn’t care if she lived or died.

“That’s unusually forthright for you” Peter said.

“I’m just tired of bullshit” Kat said, “And I think that it just doesn’t matter anymore, it’s not like I have too many personal secrets anymore.”

“Are you still worried about how the people close to you are reacting to those secrets being exposed?” Peter asked.

Kat sighed, “It’s as Maria said, the people who hold anything against me are people who don’t like me anyway” She said.

“And that includes your boyfriend?” Peter asked, “Who you never expected to hear from again.”

Peter noticed that Kat flushed slightly when he mentioned that.

“He’s wonderful” Kat said, “And I don’t understand why he’s still around.”

Kat wanted to be rejected and Douglass Blackwood didn’t want to because apparently, he genuinely cared about her, something that left Kat absolutely petrified. It broke a pattern that she had made sure played out on exactly her terms for years. Peter could also see how their relationship had the potential to eventually turn toxic if things didn’t change. The saving grace in all of this was that the two of them had been in professions that had kept them apart for months at a time. Something that had given her the space to process being in an adult relationship.

“There is more to relationships than the purely physical” Peter said, “He respects your boundaries and the two of you have been able to talk about these matters.”

“Yes” Kat agreed, “But how long until he wants more? And he knows that might never happen because…”

She trailed off.

Because the past has a direct bearing on the present and that traumatized child was still very much a part of who she was. It was all she can do not to violently lash out at any man who got too close, physically or emotionally.

“Happiness and a chance at a halfway normal life?” Peter asked, “Is it really that threatening?”

“That’s logical enough” Kat replied, “What the Hell is wrong me?”

“There is a part of you that’s broken and wants only to be left alone” Peter said, “And thinks that you only deserve to suffer.”

“I know that” Kat said, “But why can’t I get past it?”

“Because what happened to you is not something a person can ever really get past” Peter replied.

Kat paused on one of the footbridges and looked down at the frozen surface of the pond below.

“Doctor Tangeman told me that you are unconventional” Kat said, “That a different Doctor would have handled my case very differently.”

“I take the Hippocratic oath very seriously” Peter said, “Too many of my colleagues are willing to experiment with unproven drugs or invasive procedures. In your case, I think that might have just given you a new set of traumas to cope with.”

“Thank you for that” Kat said, “The reason why I asked is that I want to know if there is anything that could be done?”

“I don’t know” Peter replied, “There are certain therapies that are promising but as I’m sure you already know, Psychology as a science is in its infancy.”

“I’m just so tired of being like this” Kat said.

“I can understand that” Peter said, “At least do me the favor of continuing to ask my opinion before you agree to anything.”
 
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Instead of Hindu/Buddhist thought via the UK influencing Western philosophy and culture like IOTL, what if we get East Asian religion via Germany here?
It's more likely that Tilo brings into existence a saner and less angsty form of Existencialism compared to the OTL version of Sartre and others

A style of philosophy that many of the post War young European adults would accept, as unlike many other philosophical doctrines it would be focused on common reality and life rather than deep abstractions of from a dusty University room professor what rarely if ever confronted War, suffering, the ups and lows of life and such.
 
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