Stupid Luck and Happenstance.
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Part 49, Chapter 655
Chapter Six Hundred Fifty-Five
18th May 1948
Washington DC
The whole thing was a farce. The German National Carrier, Lufthansa, had offered discount airfare to veterans over the German spring holiday. That included damn near every German man under the age of thirty and a good chunk of the women as well. The result was that the more adventurous had ventured as far as they could afford to go and that had included a few thousand who had come to the United States, at a time of heightened tensions and those accursed pamphlets it certainly didn’t help matters. There was also the aspect of the FBI being under new management.
Eliot Ness, the new Director was still trying to figure out if there was anyone still in the Bureau who was taking orders from Berlin rather than Washington. He’d been leaning on his Agents to take these things seriously. It had resulted in there being some overzealous questioning of students whose only crime was wanting to see the Grand Canyon or the Smithsonian.
Not that everything was a complete mess, the appointment of Ness had been one of the few choices that Dewey had made that Truman approved of. Ness had come from the Treasury Department branches in the Midwest. That was where he had earned his reputation battling the Chicago Outfit repeatedly taking down it’s leaders. Al Capone followed by Frank Nitti. Every time Ness thought he’d won a lasting victory only to have the new Boss of the Chicago Outfit being worse than the one before. When Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegal had arrived in Chicago in 1943 it had resulted in a new level of violence in that conflict, one that had turned into a dangerous game of cat and mouse that had lasted almost four years until Siegal had gone down in a hail of bullets in a Chicago alley. Ness had taken a job in Washington, where the FBI was in serious need of fumigation in the wake of J. Edger Hoover’s disappearance.
Now, the Senate Select Intelligence Committee had learned that a Customs Agent had called the FBI’s Los Angeles Field Office when a Dietrich “Tilo” Schultz, the twenty-five-year-old son of Johann Schultz, who had flown in from Vietnam of all places. It was obvious from questioning of a couple of different things. One was that Dietrich Schultz did not have the slightest clue as to what a vicious son of a bitch his father was. The second was that Dietrich was quite possibly one of the most preposterous people that the Special Agents had ever encountered, not to mention useless. Looking at the file Truman saw that Dietrich was considered a hero in the German version of the Marine Corps, and the German version was also until very recently where the malcontents, troublemakers and insane got sent.
To Truman’s annoyance the Field Office in LA had cut the boy loose after a few hours. Dietrich Schultz himself might have been useless but one never knew what someone like that had echoing around in their minds. It seemed that the Marines at Camp Pendleton had heard he was in town and had decided to spring him. Apparently, sometime just after the Battle of Saipan when Dietrich was still a Sergeant he had tricked a US Naval Intelligence Officer into giving his Platoon a few cases of cold beer on Guam. Nationality aside, that was the stuff of legends.
20th May 1948
Montreal, Canada
It was understandable why Kat didn’t want to leave for the week. She was convinced that misfortune followed her wherever she went. Ironically, what had triggered this latest episode was Erma Tangeman’s parting advice to Kat, that she needed to stop letting her fears rule her life. It was also because of Tangeman’s death that he felt that they needed to escape Berlin for a time. Doug was finally able to convince her that a coup, revolution or invasion was extremely unlikely to happen in Canada if they went there. His father and sister looked forward to seeing them, even his mother had promised to keep things civil. Kat reluctantly agreed to come after a great deal of cajoling on Doug’s part. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to be on the verge of one of her depressive episodes otherwise she would have never made it onto the airplane.
Even so she sat there brooding for the entire flight to New York and the relatively short hop to Montreal. “What’s wrong?” Doug finally asked on the car ride from the airport.
“I don’t want to be here” Kat snapped, “Is that really so hard to understand?”
The driver of the car might not have been able to understand the language that Kat was speaking in, but he recognized the tone of her voice. He shot Doug a look of sympathy in the rear view mirror of the car. When they arrived at the house Kat stomped to the guest room, closed the door and locked it behind her.
“What’s gotten into her?” Emma asked.
“Difference of opinion” Doug replied, “You better tell Mom not to go anywhere near Katherine until she’s feeling more sociable.”
“Why is she so angry?” Emma asked.
“It’s not anger” Doug said. He had spent years getting to know Kat’s moods. This wasn’t anger, between the loss of a friend and confidante, as well as her own indecision regarding the future, this was as close to feeling defeated by life as Kat had ever been. She was scared.
18th May 1948
Washington DC
The whole thing was a farce. The German National Carrier, Lufthansa, had offered discount airfare to veterans over the German spring holiday. That included damn near every German man under the age of thirty and a good chunk of the women as well. The result was that the more adventurous had ventured as far as they could afford to go and that had included a few thousand who had come to the United States, at a time of heightened tensions and those accursed pamphlets it certainly didn’t help matters. There was also the aspect of the FBI being under new management.
Eliot Ness, the new Director was still trying to figure out if there was anyone still in the Bureau who was taking orders from Berlin rather than Washington. He’d been leaning on his Agents to take these things seriously. It had resulted in there being some overzealous questioning of students whose only crime was wanting to see the Grand Canyon or the Smithsonian.
Not that everything was a complete mess, the appointment of Ness had been one of the few choices that Dewey had made that Truman approved of. Ness had come from the Treasury Department branches in the Midwest. That was where he had earned his reputation battling the Chicago Outfit repeatedly taking down it’s leaders. Al Capone followed by Frank Nitti. Every time Ness thought he’d won a lasting victory only to have the new Boss of the Chicago Outfit being worse than the one before. When Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegal had arrived in Chicago in 1943 it had resulted in a new level of violence in that conflict, one that had turned into a dangerous game of cat and mouse that had lasted almost four years until Siegal had gone down in a hail of bullets in a Chicago alley. Ness had taken a job in Washington, where the FBI was in serious need of fumigation in the wake of J. Edger Hoover’s disappearance.
Now, the Senate Select Intelligence Committee had learned that a Customs Agent had called the FBI’s Los Angeles Field Office when a Dietrich “Tilo” Schultz, the twenty-five-year-old son of Johann Schultz, who had flown in from Vietnam of all places. It was obvious from questioning of a couple of different things. One was that Dietrich Schultz did not have the slightest clue as to what a vicious son of a bitch his father was. The second was that Dietrich was quite possibly one of the most preposterous people that the Special Agents had ever encountered, not to mention useless. Looking at the file Truman saw that Dietrich was considered a hero in the German version of the Marine Corps, and the German version was also until very recently where the malcontents, troublemakers and insane got sent.
To Truman’s annoyance the Field Office in LA had cut the boy loose after a few hours. Dietrich Schultz himself might have been useless but one never knew what someone like that had echoing around in their minds. It seemed that the Marines at Camp Pendleton had heard he was in town and had decided to spring him. Apparently, sometime just after the Battle of Saipan when Dietrich was still a Sergeant he had tricked a US Naval Intelligence Officer into giving his Platoon a few cases of cold beer on Guam. Nationality aside, that was the stuff of legends.
20th May 1948
Montreal, Canada
It was understandable why Kat didn’t want to leave for the week. She was convinced that misfortune followed her wherever she went. Ironically, what had triggered this latest episode was Erma Tangeman’s parting advice to Kat, that she needed to stop letting her fears rule her life. It was also because of Tangeman’s death that he felt that they needed to escape Berlin for a time. Doug was finally able to convince her that a coup, revolution or invasion was extremely unlikely to happen in Canada if they went there. His father and sister looked forward to seeing them, even his mother had promised to keep things civil. Kat reluctantly agreed to come after a great deal of cajoling on Doug’s part. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to be on the verge of one of her depressive episodes otherwise she would have never made it onto the airplane.
Even so she sat there brooding for the entire flight to New York and the relatively short hop to Montreal. “What’s wrong?” Doug finally asked on the car ride from the airport.
“I don’t want to be here” Kat snapped, “Is that really so hard to understand?”
The driver of the car might not have been able to understand the language that Kat was speaking in, but he recognized the tone of her voice. He shot Doug a look of sympathy in the rear view mirror of the car. When they arrived at the house Kat stomped to the guest room, closed the door and locked it behind her.
“What’s gotten into her?” Emma asked.
“Difference of opinion” Doug replied, “You better tell Mom not to go anywhere near Katherine until she’s feeling more sociable.”
“Why is she so angry?” Emma asked.
“It’s not anger” Doug said. He had spent years getting to know Kat’s moods. This wasn’t anger, between the loss of a friend and confidante, as well as her own indecision regarding the future, this was as close to feeling defeated by life as Kat had ever been. She was scared.
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*Lands in Canada*
"Vive le Quebec!"
*Kat looks at Doug*
"What was that you said? Something about a revolution in Canada never happening?"
"Yeah yeah, like you never made a mistake before."
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LOL I can see it.
She better not go south of the Mason-Dixon line. (Or if she does, and the south rises again, they'll be saying, "Who ever thought General Sherman would come back as a woman?" as the smoke slowly drifts skyward.)
Md139115
Banned
Interesting thought here:
If Quebec rebels and tries to become an individual country, they definitely are going to need a backer and a new government.
One of the best ways to do that would be to seek a member of a European royal house, and declare them king or queen (because presumably King George VI is not going to take this well).
The Quebecois have a complicated relationship with the Bourbons, and neither them or the Bonapartes are in a position to really influence anything.
They could seek out the mysterious French-Canadian Romanov princess that grew up there, but something tells me that would be a no...
There is one more historical option though... if they claim that the Stuarts were the rightful dynasty of Britain and the Hanoverians and their descendants are usurpers, they would be able to claim three things at once:
1. That the Treaty of Paris (1763) was void, and Quebec should have remained part of France and not have been incorporated into a Confederation with the British Canadian colonies.
2. That the Treaty of Amiens was also void, and the Stuart dynasty is still the rightful sovereigns of England, Scotland, Ireland, and France.
3. That by recognizing the Jacobites as their sovereign, the Quebecois are technically not rebelling, but rather restoring a dominion of His Majesty, the King of England/France to the way it should be.
Here's the best part:
Guess who the Jacobite claimant was at the time...
If Quebec rebels and tries to become an individual country, they definitely are going to need a backer and a new government.
One of the best ways to do that would be to seek a member of a European royal house, and declare them king or queen (because presumably King George VI is not going to take this well).
The Quebecois have a complicated relationship with the Bourbons, and neither them or the Bonapartes are in a position to really influence anything.
They could seek out the mysterious French-Canadian Romanov princess that grew up there, but something tells me that would be a no...
There is one more historical option though... if they claim that the Stuarts were the rightful dynasty of Britain and the Hanoverians and their descendants are usurpers, they would be able to claim three things at once:
1. That the Treaty of Paris (1763) was void, and Quebec should have remained part of France and not have been incorporated into a Confederation with the British Canadian colonies.
2. That the Treaty of Amiens was also void, and the Stuart dynasty is still the rightful sovereigns of England, Scotland, Ireland, and France.
3. That by recognizing the Jacobites as their sovereign, the Quebecois are technically not rebelling, but rather restoring a dominion of His Majesty, the King of England/France to the way it should be.
Here's the best part:
Guess who the Jacobite claimant was at the time...
Hmmm. I can see Nawlins as an interesting destination and the Southeastern wetlands. I know nothing about Boston but why would any Germans want to visit the fetid swamp, er, DC? I can see visiting the Washington monument because of its shape but the Lincoln Memorial ("The North won the war but lost the peace") or Jefferson Memorial ("Why him? Why not Ben Franklin?) might not be that interesting. The rebuilt White House would probably get disparaging comments like "Rather small and plain, don't you think?" The Smithsonian Air Museum existed but wouldn't have nearly as many exhibits ITTL.
The inhabitants of the "intact antique architecture" might not appreciate busloads of Germans marveling at how people still lived that way.
Does the Marine Infantry do their own initial training or are they still getting the dregs of the Heer?
Tilo might be interested in a trip a little bit more south from Camp Pendleton to MCRD San Diego.
Earlier it was posted that the number of SKA and the MA had been reduced, having former members become instructors at the initial training facilities would be an excellent way to make use of their training and it would be a great way to rotate members from the SKA and MA units to keep them fresh.
Tilo might be interested in a trip a little bit more south from Camp Pendleton to MCRD San Diego.
Earlier it was posted that the number of SKA and the MA had been reduced, having former members become instructors at the initial training facilities would be an excellent way to make use of their training and it would be a great way to rotate members from the SKA and MA units to keep them fresh.
"The South shall rise ag..." BANG "Now that we're over that nonsense..."
All kidding aside, I don't. Witness her reaction to the unpleasantness in Argentina followed by the death of Erma Tangeman - Kat's probably convinced herself that either Death or all four Horsemen follow her around. Typhoid Mary, Apocalypse Kat.
Part 49, Chapter 656
Chapter Six Hundred Fifty-Six
22nd May 1948
Seattle, Washington
Tilo had taken a train through California, Oregon and finally Washington. The differences in the landscape he’d seen just from hour to hour had been incredible, from the near desert just North of Los Angeles to the green forests and white mountain peaks of the Cascade Mountains. The mountains in the far northern part of California had been particularly spectacular. Arriving in Seattle just after midnight in the rail station which wasn’t in a great neighborhood was not.
It had been a near run thing, he’d almost not made the train on morning he’d left LA. He had been a guest of Colonel Puller and his men, he was seen as someone from a rival outfit that lived up, or down as the case may be, to the standards of a sort of thinking that was particular to a large segment of the US Marine Corps. They had wanted to “Show the Kraut Captain a good time” and that had been an extremely wild twenty-four hours. Eventually, as the party had died down in the early morning hours he’d ended up talking with Puller himself.
“I think it’s a riot that you’re not even in the country five minutes and you get picked up by the FBI” Puller said with a laugh, “The real Marines are in the Brig, everyone knows that.”
Tilo had been unsure how to respond to that, he couldn’t tell if the Puller was joking or serious.
“It was stupid” Tilo said. Apparently, his father left an impression while working in the Embassy in Washington. Tilo had been grabbed because of that relationship.
“It’s always something stupid” Puller said, “Is it true? That to get into the German Marines, you have to get thrown out of the Army first?”
The Seebataillon Divisions that had preceded the Marine Infantry had a reputation for being composed of the dregs of the Heer. Tilo was shocked to see that Puller liked that idea.
“We are trying to move past that…” Tilo started to say.
“Why bother” Puller said, “Your outfit has a reputation of being the worst of the worst, the real ass kickers. You can’t pay for a public image like that.”
The truth was that Puller would need to talk to Grand Admiral von Schmidt about that. Under his command the Marine Infantry was being leaned on to finally become professional as opposed to the last refuge of the incompetent, criminal and otherwise unemployable.
Waking up with barely enough time to make the train he had watched out the window of the train for the next day and a half as the varied landscape rolled by. Tilo spent a sleepless night waiting in the train station until the buses started running about the time the sun came up. He was looking and feeling rather ragged by the time he arrived at the campus of the University of Washington. He fell asleep in the visitor’s area of the Women’s dormitory. He woke up to Nancy who was less than happy to see him.
“Have you lost your mind?” Nancy demanded.
“Hardly” Tilo replied, “I was in Seattle and I’ve a day before the next train east leaves, I thought I’d drop in and…”
“You can’t be here” Nancy said cutting him off.
“Why?” Tilo asked, “You got somewhere to be? I can wait…”
“No” Nancy replied, cutting him off again, “This minute, you need to get out of here, this instant.”
“Who’s your friend, Nancy?” A middle-aged woman asked.
“Just a friend, Mom” Nancy said, “He was just leaving.”
“Wait, isn’t he the young man who was your date at that wedding last year?” The woman asked, “What did you say his name was Derrick or something.”
Nancy looked like she was on the verge of panic. Tilo couldn’t see what the big deal was. “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Jensen, and everyone calls me Tilo” He said, “I was just passing through on my way home from Vietnam.”
“From where?” Mrs. Jensen asked before her eyes went wide and she yelled, “Bill, NO!”
Tilo had just enough time to see movement in the corner of his eye before someone punched him in the face.
Montreal
It real was a crap job. Follow the woman through the park and if she saw you, there was a good chance that she would shoot you. The Inspector had not needed to look so pleased as he had assigned this job to John and Blake. “You get to watch over an old friend of yours” was how he had put it. At least it was a nice spring morning as opposed to the last time they had been assigned to this task when it had been in the middle of winter. That was also when she had insisted on them taking her to find place to get a drink only to have her slip a mickey into theirs. A couple years later they were still catching shit for that.
Today, she had run to the park like she had in the past but once there, she vanished. They should have been able to see her from the car park as she ran around the walkways. Instead, she wasn’t doing that. John gave an exasperated sigh as he got out of the car. He remembered well the last time he’d made the mistake of following this woman closely. The evil sound of suppressed bullets whizzing past his ear was a memorable experience that he never wanted a repeat of.
Coming around a bend in the walkway, John saw her sitting on one of the benches, weeping softly and if she noticed his presence, didn’t care. He instantly felt like he was intruding. It was obvious that she wasn’t going anywhere, so he went back to the car.
22nd May 1948
Seattle, Washington
Tilo had taken a train through California, Oregon and finally Washington. The differences in the landscape he’d seen just from hour to hour had been incredible, from the near desert just North of Los Angeles to the green forests and white mountain peaks of the Cascade Mountains. The mountains in the far northern part of California had been particularly spectacular. Arriving in Seattle just after midnight in the rail station which wasn’t in a great neighborhood was not.
It had been a near run thing, he’d almost not made the train on morning he’d left LA. He had been a guest of Colonel Puller and his men, he was seen as someone from a rival outfit that lived up, or down as the case may be, to the standards of a sort of thinking that was particular to a large segment of the US Marine Corps. They had wanted to “Show the Kraut Captain a good time” and that had been an extremely wild twenty-four hours. Eventually, as the party had died down in the early morning hours he’d ended up talking with Puller himself.
“I think it’s a riot that you’re not even in the country five minutes and you get picked up by the FBI” Puller said with a laugh, “The real Marines are in the Brig, everyone knows that.”
Tilo had been unsure how to respond to that, he couldn’t tell if the Puller was joking or serious.
“It was stupid” Tilo said. Apparently, his father left an impression while working in the Embassy in Washington. Tilo had been grabbed because of that relationship.
“It’s always something stupid” Puller said, “Is it true? That to get into the German Marines, you have to get thrown out of the Army first?”
The Seebataillon Divisions that had preceded the Marine Infantry had a reputation for being composed of the dregs of the Heer. Tilo was shocked to see that Puller liked that idea.
“We are trying to move past that…” Tilo started to say.
“Why bother” Puller said, “Your outfit has a reputation of being the worst of the worst, the real ass kickers. You can’t pay for a public image like that.”
The truth was that Puller would need to talk to Grand Admiral von Schmidt about that. Under his command the Marine Infantry was being leaned on to finally become professional as opposed to the last refuge of the incompetent, criminal and otherwise unemployable.
Waking up with barely enough time to make the train he had watched out the window of the train for the next day and a half as the varied landscape rolled by. Tilo spent a sleepless night waiting in the train station until the buses started running about the time the sun came up. He was looking and feeling rather ragged by the time he arrived at the campus of the University of Washington. He fell asleep in the visitor’s area of the Women’s dormitory. He woke up to Nancy who was less than happy to see him.
“Have you lost your mind?” Nancy demanded.
“Hardly” Tilo replied, “I was in Seattle and I’ve a day before the next train east leaves, I thought I’d drop in and…”
“You can’t be here” Nancy said cutting him off.
“Why?” Tilo asked, “You got somewhere to be? I can wait…”
“No” Nancy replied, cutting him off again, “This minute, you need to get out of here, this instant.”
“Who’s your friend, Nancy?” A middle-aged woman asked.
“Just a friend, Mom” Nancy said, “He was just leaving.”
“Wait, isn’t he the young man who was your date at that wedding last year?” The woman asked, “What did you say his name was Derrick or something.”
Nancy looked like she was on the verge of panic. Tilo couldn’t see what the big deal was. “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Jensen, and everyone calls me Tilo” He said, “I was just passing through on my way home from Vietnam.”
“From where?” Mrs. Jensen asked before her eyes went wide and she yelled, “Bill, NO!”
Tilo had just enough time to see movement in the corner of his eye before someone punched him in the face.
Montreal
It real was a crap job. Follow the woman through the park and if she saw you, there was a good chance that she would shoot you. The Inspector had not needed to look so pleased as he had assigned this job to John and Blake. “You get to watch over an old friend of yours” was how he had put it. At least it was a nice spring morning as opposed to the last time they had been assigned to this task when it had been in the middle of winter. That was also when she had insisted on them taking her to find place to get a drink only to have her slip a mickey into theirs. A couple years later they were still catching shit for that.
Today, she had run to the park like she had in the past but once there, she vanished. They should have been able to see her from the car park as she ran around the walkways. Instead, she wasn’t doing that. John gave an exasperated sigh as he got out of the car. He remembered well the last time he’d made the mistake of following this woman closely. The evil sound of suppressed bullets whizzing past his ear was a memorable experience that he never wanted a repeat of.
Coming around a bend in the walkway, John saw her sitting on one of the benches, weeping softly and if she noticed his presence, didn’t care. He instantly felt like he was intruding. It was obvious that she wasn’t going anywhere, so he went back to the car.
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It seems as if that doesn't quite mean what I thought it meant. Darn Google translate. I wanted the translation of "always fuck you." Oh, well, "semper vilis" isn't too bad.
At a certain point in time the people around Kat are going to have to save themselves and leave Kat to her own devices.
This sounds very cruel but people who suffer from deep depression also spread their depression to others around them.
It very frustrating trying to help them when they are depressed and the time and energy that you used on them seems to be wasted because one of the effects of depression is a spiraling down feeling until a bottom is reached and each episode keeps getting deeper.
Depression can be treated and managed and maybe even cured but the problem is that people in a depressive state don't really want to be helped but they want to keep feeling that because they don't think they deserve to be happy and only a external event like hospitalization, medicine, therapy or being part of something that is bigger then themselves can bring them out of that state.
I am surprised that electric shock therapy has not been mentioned as it is an effective way of treating depression and it in no ways resemble the ways people think it does in the movies.
My grandmother suffered from manic depression and when she was in deep depressive state she was brought out of it with electric shock therapy and when lithium was found out to be an effective way of treating manic depression my grandmother had no episodes for over thirty years.
It is just frustrating to read about Kat's episodes with depression because it reminds me of trying to help my grandmother when she had a bout of depression and I could not do anything to help her but just to be there for her and see that she did not hurt herself or anybody else.
This sounds very cruel but people who suffer from deep depression also spread their depression to others around them.
It very frustrating trying to help them when they are depressed and the time and energy that you used on them seems to be wasted because one of the effects of depression is a spiraling down feeling until a bottom is reached and each episode keeps getting deeper.
Depression can be treated and managed and maybe even cured but the problem is that people in a depressive state don't really want to be helped but they want to keep feeling that because they don't think they deserve to be happy and only a external event like hospitalization, medicine, therapy or being part of something that is bigger then themselves can bring them out of that state.
I am surprised that electric shock therapy has not been mentioned as it is an effective way of treating depression and it in no ways resemble the ways people think it does in the movies.
My grandmother suffered from manic depression and when she was in deep depressive state she was brought out of it with electric shock therapy and when lithium was found out to be an effective way of treating manic depression my grandmother had no episodes for over thirty years.
It is just frustrating to read about Kat's episodes with depression because it reminds me of trying to help my grandmother when she had a bout of depression and I could not do anything to help her but just to be there for her and see that she did not hurt herself or anybody else.