I would have added a touch of double blind irony. Have someone charitably remark "Now with all his faults he was a brave soldier. No doubt his terrible injuries and constant pain embittered him. Perhaps if he had come back from the War as a whole man he would have made a worthwhile contribution in some sphere of life"
Stupid Luck and Happenstance.
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
Actually, they probably asked Supply for a 'Casket, M-1, 1 each.'
I know this board has a policy against revenge fantasies, but you know, in this situation, I think the mods could turn a blind eye to Hitler's funeral being presided over by a Rabbi.
Part 59, Chapter 925
Chapter Eight Hundred Twenty-Five
8th May 1950
Jena
There were times when Peter felt that he could set a watch with some of his patients, an aspect that he found particularly frustrating. Katherine von Mischner having her latest personal crisis was one of those things. This time it had been an offhand comment, Douglas had said that he thought she might make a good mother after he saw her interacting with Marie and Victoria von Preussen at the spring quarterly meeting of the Order of Louise. The problem was that just by letting Kat know that he was thinking about it was enough to send her into a spiral of self-doubt that would eventually lead to either panic or depression. Peter understood her patterns, but he knew that her antics were starting to have a physical cost. The ulcer that she was still recovering from was proof of that and it would only get worse if he couldn’t convince her to make some changes. The question was what to do about it.
With that simple comment, Douglas Blackwood had put an elephant in the room that wasn’t going away. It was one of the fundamental contradictions of Kat’s life. What she seemed to want and what she feared most were completely intertwined. He’d spent the last hour listening to her talk at length about the subject as she had been for the last decade, dancing all around the issue and complaining about the societal pressures among other things, leaving Peter at a loss. When Kat had walked out the door a few minutes earlier, Peter had been alternating between his concern and wanting to grab her by the shoulders to shake some sense into her. In the past he had suggested several times that there were ways she could have this no longer be an issue for her. Her reaction had been an emphatic no every time. Erma Tangeman might have referred to Kat’s actions as looking to eventually have an intentional accident on some level, essentially removing all agency from herself. It was an incredibly self-destructive act, wouldn’t be fair to her or anyone around her and Peter knew that it wouldn’t work. Not for the first time, Peter realized that he really needed Doctor Tangeman in moments like these. Erma could get through to Kat most of the time. Peter suspected that while she did listen to him, Kat was used to seeing men as something to be overcome and that included him.
Near Wernigerode, Germany
Lenz was enjoying himself as he banked the Rhönbussard glider around the windward side of the ridge as it gained lift. He could see wispy clouds forming, blown by the winds that cut across the peak of the Brocken. He turned away from the ridge and banked sharply until he was parallel to his previous course. He caught a glimpse of hikers on the ridge below waving as he made the turn.
His mother didn’t understand why Lenz did this. He spent his working hours as a pilot, in his spare time he got into the cockpit of a sailplane and flew some more. The truth was that he didn’t spend a whole lot of time in the cockpit of an airplane these days and even if he did he found the sailplane a purer, more meditative example of flying. Only Tilo understood, he said that Lenz was looking for the essential practice of flying, just wind, gravity and the sun. It didn’t more essential than that.
Lenz knew that his mother fretted about her sons, none of them showed any signs of settling down. Jost was a tyrant, so Lenz couldn’t imagine him with a family. Lenz had yet to meet a woman who was understanding of his career, the aspect of danger that made it sexy had a way of turning into a pure poison when the reality of that sank in. Tilo, Lenz had no idea what his deal was. He was writing and working towards advanced degrees in University. The Marine Infantry wasn’t done with him yet and they were supporting his educational endeavors. When Lenz had asked, he’d said something about how he didn’t want to be the one who destroyed his love interest’s aspirations, whatever that even meant.
Lenz reached the other end of the ridge and made another turn. He almost had enough altitude to make the run to the next ridge.
Berlin
The exhibit wasn’t going to open for a few months, but Leni was looking around the space in the Altes Museum that it was going to occupy. The rare books of the Hohenzollern collection were to be shown here. It wasn’t just the Guttenberg bible, there had been several other valuable finds as well. Tonight’s reception was for the team that had put in the work to catalog and preserve the collection. There were also several other Royal Houses that were looking to make contributions to this collection. Just a few days earlier Leni had looked at a manuscript that was over a thousand years old. Each individual letter hand painted and imagined the dedication required to perfectly hand copy a such a manuscript…
“Good evening, Magdalena” Erika said, “Enjoying yourself?”
Leni couldn’t help but notice that Erika was looking at her hands. She’d unconsciously pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands again. Leni been advised that it drew attention, people figured she was hiding something and she was.
“Yes” Leni said, with some uncertainty. Why couldn’t life be as simple as these manuscripts?
8th May 1950
Jena
There were times when Peter felt that he could set a watch with some of his patients, an aspect that he found particularly frustrating. Katherine von Mischner having her latest personal crisis was one of those things. This time it had been an offhand comment, Douglas had said that he thought she might make a good mother after he saw her interacting with Marie and Victoria von Preussen at the spring quarterly meeting of the Order of Louise. The problem was that just by letting Kat know that he was thinking about it was enough to send her into a spiral of self-doubt that would eventually lead to either panic or depression. Peter understood her patterns, but he knew that her antics were starting to have a physical cost. The ulcer that she was still recovering from was proof of that and it would only get worse if he couldn’t convince her to make some changes. The question was what to do about it.
With that simple comment, Douglas Blackwood had put an elephant in the room that wasn’t going away. It was one of the fundamental contradictions of Kat’s life. What she seemed to want and what she feared most were completely intertwined. He’d spent the last hour listening to her talk at length about the subject as she had been for the last decade, dancing all around the issue and complaining about the societal pressures among other things, leaving Peter at a loss. When Kat had walked out the door a few minutes earlier, Peter had been alternating between his concern and wanting to grab her by the shoulders to shake some sense into her. In the past he had suggested several times that there were ways she could have this no longer be an issue for her. Her reaction had been an emphatic no every time. Erma Tangeman might have referred to Kat’s actions as looking to eventually have an intentional accident on some level, essentially removing all agency from herself. It was an incredibly self-destructive act, wouldn’t be fair to her or anyone around her and Peter knew that it wouldn’t work. Not for the first time, Peter realized that he really needed Doctor Tangeman in moments like these. Erma could get through to Kat most of the time. Peter suspected that while she did listen to him, Kat was used to seeing men as something to be overcome and that included him.
Near Wernigerode, Germany
Lenz was enjoying himself as he banked the Rhönbussard glider around the windward side of the ridge as it gained lift. He could see wispy clouds forming, blown by the winds that cut across the peak of the Brocken. He turned away from the ridge and banked sharply until he was parallel to his previous course. He caught a glimpse of hikers on the ridge below waving as he made the turn.
His mother didn’t understand why Lenz did this. He spent his working hours as a pilot, in his spare time he got into the cockpit of a sailplane and flew some more. The truth was that he didn’t spend a whole lot of time in the cockpit of an airplane these days and even if he did he found the sailplane a purer, more meditative example of flying. Only Tilo understood, he said that Lenz was looking for the essential practice of flying, just wind, gravity and the sun. It didn’t more essential than that.
Lenz knew that his mother fretted about her sons, none of them showed any signs of settling down. Jost was a tyrant, so Lenz couldn’t imagine him with a family. Lenz had yet to meet a woman who was understanding of his career, the aspect of danger that made it sexy had a way of turning into a pure poison when the reality of that sank in. Tilo, Lenz had no idea what his deal was. He was writing and working towards advanced degrees in University. The Marine Infantry wasn’t done with him yet and they were supporting his educational endeavors. When Lenz had asked, he’d said something about how he didn’t want to be the one who destroyed his love interest’s aspirations, whatever that even meant.
Lenz reached the other end of the ridge and made another turn. He almost had enough altitude to make the run to the next ridge.
Berlin
The exhibit wasn’t going to open for a few months, but Leni was looking around the space in the Altes Museum that it was going to occupy. The rare books of the Hohenzollern collection were to be shown here. It wasn’t just the Guttenberg bible, there had been several other valuable finds as well. Tonight’s reception was for the team that had put in the work to catalog and preserve the collection. There were also several other Royal Houses that were looking to make contributions to this collection. Just a few days earlier Leni had looked at a manuscript that was over a thousand years old. Each individual letter hand painted and imagined the dedication required to perfectly hand copy a such a manuscript…
“Good evening, Magdalena” Erika said, “Enjoying yourself?”
Leni couldn’t help but notice that Erika was looking at her hands. She’d unconsciously pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands again. Leni been advised that it drew attention, people figured she was hiding something and she was.
“Yes” Leni said, with some uncertainty. Why couldn’t life be as simple as these manuscripts?
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In 1950 that is quite a old design, a lot had changed in both materials and aerodynamics in the 17 years since that glider first flew. So is Lenz into flying historic aircraft!?
FBKampfer
Banned
Thats a little ambiguous. Is Lenz just making an estimation his flight path, or did you just foreshadow an accident?
Not as obsolescent as you might think. In OTL when Schleicher restarted production in the early 50s this was the model that became the K Series which had 1000s of examples built into the 1960s. The Sailplane Linz owns he's had for a number of years.
For some reason I was assuming Lenz was flying the original 1933 version! I learnt to glide in a K7, so was aware of the ancestry. The K6 was lovely glider that was continually updated so I get your point that a later version would still be good glider to go soaring in.
The Necronomicon...
The key to the Voynich manuscript, translating it all to German...
The Book of Soyga...
I know this board has a policy against revenge fantasies, but you know, in this situation, I think the mods could turn a blind eye to Hitler's funeral being presided over by a Rabbi.
Honestly, given what he got here, what with being treated by Jewish and or black staff only, asking a Rabbi to lay him to rest is minor. Especially if you can just claim a paperwork mixup.
Part 59, Chapter 826
Chapter Eight Hundred Twenty-Six
25th May 1950
Tempelhof
“It’s because you are used to dealing with VIPs and can speak the right language” Her Supervisor had said. He hadn’t said that it was because people stupidly thought that Kat was pretty and looked good for the press. At least it meant that International Arrivals was closed for a couple hours and she didn’t have businessmen annoying her. It was something that she was profoundly thankful for.
Instead she had humorless men in black suits ignoring her. It had taken a few minutes to realize that these American Secret Service Agents saw her as little more than decoration, it was an amusing thought. One of the Senior Agents shot her a dirty look and before saying something to one of the other Agents. Eventually he walked over to where she was standing behind the counter.
“Exactly what are you doing here Mrs. Blackwood?” He demanded.
“It’s actually von Mischner-Blackwood” Kat replied, “And I’m here to do my job. Why does your President feel the need to come through Customs? That’s a much better question, he doesn’t need to.”
“It’s about keeping up appearances” The Agent said, “Making a show of entering this country for the summit this same as anyone else.”
“That’s sort of the reason why I’m here.”
“We aren’t going to have any trouble from you, are we?”
“Meaning exactly what?”
“The whole Abwehr assassin angle” The Agent said, and Kat felt like laughing at that. She had never actually been an assassin or a spy if you got right down to it.
“That would exceed my orders and Abwehr was disbanded” Kat replied, and she smiled sweetly.
“Son of a bitch” The Agent muttered before shouting, “Can we get someone else in here?”
Kat’s Supervisor just shrugged even as he shot Kat a dirty look of his own. It didn’t matter because the press was already entering the room and it was too late to avoid making a scene.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Harry Truman was stepping down the movable staircase to the tarmac. The air smelled different here, was his thought as he waited a few seconds for Bess to join him. He could see the cameras rolling as he made his way towards the building. The President of the United States in Berlin for a historic summit regarding the development and proliferation of nuclear technology and the implications of space exploration. More like begging hat in hand for no one in the world to do something stupid before they figure out what to do with the lethal toys, he thought to himself. Truman knew that he was on the back foot here and it was something that he didn’t like. Making his way to Customs, something he wanted to be seen doing. Truman was the same as any other business traveler, even if he didn’t have to wait in line.
There was a young woman at the counter, copper colored hair clashing with the ugly green wool uniform she was wearing. She seemed a youthful mid-twenties until he got close enough to see her eyes. Those told a different story as did the blue and silver medal that she was wearing on her collar. It was the same woman he’d seen in the newspaper months earlier, but he couldn’t remember what the story was about.
“Good evening, Sir” She said in accented English, “Your passport, please.”
Truman handed it to her and watched as she flipped through it, making sure that everything was in order even though she didn’t need to. There was the occasional flash bulb going off, she just ignored it.
“The purpose of your visit, Sir?”
“I’m here to meet with your Kaiser and Reich Chancellor.”
She didn’t even blink at that answer, she just wrote that down.
“Do you have anything to declare?”
“Nope” Truman replied, he had no idea where his suitcase might have ended up or if he would even see it during this State visit.
“Good then, Sir” She replied as she stamped the passport. “Enjoy your visit.”
“Thank you, Miss” Truman said before he noticed the rings on her finger as she handed the passport back, meaning that she was married but she seemed not to notice that minor faux pas.
He then stood aside and watched Bess go through the same process. While trying the remember the story in the newspaper that had made the news around the world.
“You were the young lady whose car got shot up last Christmas?” Truman asked interrupting, “Weren’t you?”
She paused for a moment and just looked at him, “These things happen” She said before turning back to Bess.
That was an odd answer.
Wunsdorf-Zossen
This was the address on the envelope, but it was not at all what Nancy was expecting. The way that Tilo had described it was that it was far more ramshackle and rundown. Instead it was a pleasant house on a residential street, there was a military base nearby and that was reflected in neat gardens. The only real difference was that the garden of the Schultz house was well on it’s way to being reclaimed by forest. The door of the garage next to the house had been left open and what looked like an airplane with its wings off was sitting inside next to a mountain of boxes and old furniture.
Nancy had been given a few days off and she had decided to go to Berlin to visit friends. On the way there she had been struck by the idea that she ought to pay Tilo back for just dropping in on her in Seattle. Knocking on the door, Nancy was waiting for a few minutes until it was answered by a boy, eight or nine years old.
“I’m looking for Dietrich” Nancy said, “Is this the right place.”
The boy looked over his shoulder and yelled “UNCLE TILO, SOMEONE AT THE DOOR FOR YOU!”
Nancy hear footsteps and Tilo’s voice, “Karl, how many times have you been told not to yell in the house?”
“I’m Eric” The boy said.
“Whatever” Tilo said, “You’re asking for a thrashing either way.”
The boy blew a raspberry at Tilo and ran off.
“Sorry about that” Tilo said as he stepped out of the house and closed the door. “My nephews are not exactly civilized. Get tired of Vienna?”
“Just visiting” Nancy replied as Tilo walked over and was closing the garage door.
“What’s with the airplane?”
Tilo laughed at that. “It’s not an airplane. It’s the sailplane my brother bought after he came back from Spain, he stores it here.”
“Really” Nancy said.
Tilo saw the kitchen curtains move, “Now you’re in trouble” He said, “Ma just saw you.”
“You think she’ll give me trouble?”
Tilo just stood there with a slight smile on his face. “You have no idea” He replied.
25th May 1950
Tempelhof
“It’s because you are used to dealing with VIPs and can speak the right language” Her Supervisor had said. He hadn’t said that it was because people stupidly thought that Kat was pretty and looked good for the press. At least it meant that International Arrivals was closed for a couple hours and she didn’t have businessmen annoying her. It was something that she was profoundly thankful for.
Instead she had humorless men in black suits ignoring her. It had taken a few minutes to realize that these American Secret Service Agents saw her as little more than decoration, it was an amusing thought. One of the Senior Agents shot her a dirty look and before saying something to one of the other Agents. Eventually he walked over to where she was standing behind the counter.
“Exactly what are you doing here Mrs. Blackwood?” He demanded.
“It’s actually von Mischner-Blackwood” Kat replied, “And I’m here to do my job. Why does your President feel the need to come through Customs? That’s a much better question, he doesn’t need to.”
“It’s about keeping up appearances” The Agent said, “Making a show of entering this country for the summit this same as anyone else.”
“That’s sort of the reason why I’m here.”
“We aren’t going to have any trouble from you, are we?”
“Meaning exactly what?”
“The whole Abwehr assassin angle” The Agent said, and Kat felt like laughing at that. She had never actually been an assassin or a spy if you got right down to it.
“That would exceed my orders and Abwehr was disbanded” Kat replied, and she smiled sweetly.
“Son of a bitch” The Agent muttered before shouting, “Can we get someone else in here?”
Kat’s Supervisor just shrugged even as he shot Kat a dirty look of his own. It didn’t matter because the press was already entering the room and it was too late to avoid making a scene.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Harry Truman was stepping down the movable staircase to the tarmac. The air smelled different here, was his thought as he waited a few seconds for Bess to join him. He could see the cameras rolling as he made his way towards the building. The President of the United States in Berlin for a historic summit regarding the development and proliferation of nuclear technology and the implications of space exploration. More like begging hat in hand for no one in the world to do something stupid before they figure out what to do with the lethal toys, he thought to himself. Truman knew that he was on the back foot here and it was something that he didn’t like. Making his way to Customs, something he wanted to be seen doing. Truman was the same as any other business traveler, even if he didn’t have to wait in line.
There was a young woman at the counter, copper colored hair clashing with the ugly green wool uniform she was wearing. She seemed a youthful mid-twenties until he got close enough to see her eyes. Those told a different story as did the blue and silver medal that she was wearing on her collar. It was the same woman he’d seen in the newspaper months earlier, but he couldn’t remember what the story was about.
“Good evening, Sir” She said in accented English, “Your passport, please.”
Truman handed it to her and watched as she flipped through it, making sure that everything was in order even though she didn’t need to. There was the occasional flash bulb going off, she just ignored it.
“The purpose of your visit, Sir?”
“I’m here to meet with your Kaiser and Reich Chancellor.”
She didn’t even blink at that answer, she just wrote that down.
“Do you have anything to declare?”
“Nope” Truman replied, he had no idea where his suitcase might have ended up or if he would even see it during this State visit.
“Good then, Sir” She replied as she stamped the passport. “Enjoy your visit.”
“Thank you, Miss” Truman said before he noticed the rings on her finger as she handed the passport back, meaning that she was married but she seemed not to notice that minor faux pas.
He then stood aside and watched Bess go through the same process. While trying the remember the story in the newspaper that had made the news around the world.
“You were the young lady whose car got shot up last Christmas?” Truman asked interrupting, “Weren’t you?”
She paused for a moment and just looked at him, “These things happen” She said before turning back to Bess.
That was an odd answer.
Wunsdorf-Zossen
This was the address on the envelope, but it was not at all what Nancy was expecting. The way that Tilo had described it was that it was far more ramshackle and rundown. Instead it was a pleasant house on a residential street, there was a military base nearby and that was reflected in neat gardens. The only real difference was that the garden of the Schultz house was well on it’s way to being reclaimed by forest. The door of the garage next to the house had been left open and what looked like an airplane with its wings off was sitting inside next to a mountain of boxes and old furniture.
Nancy had been given a few days off and she had decided to go to Berlin to visit friends. On the way there she had been struck by the idea that she ought to pay Tilo back for just dropping in on her in Seattle. Knocking on the door, Nancy was waiting for a few minutes until it was answered by a boy, eight or nine years old.
“I’m looking for Dietrich” Nancy said, “Is this the right place.”
The boy looked over his shoulder and yelled “UNCLE TILO, SOMEONE AT THE DOOR FOR YOU!”
Nancy hear footsteps and Tilo’s voice, “Karl, how many times have you been told not to yell in the house?”
“I’m Eric” The boy said.
“Whatever” Tilo said, “You’re asking for a thrashing either way.”
The boy blew a raspberry at Tilo and ran off.
“Sorry about that” Tilo said as he stepped out of the house and closed the door. “My nephews are not exactly civilized. Get tired of Vienna?”
“Just visiting” Nancy replied as Tilo walked over and was closing the garage door.
“What’s with the airplane?”
Tilo laughed at that. “It’s not an airplane. It’s the sailplane my brother bought after he came back from Spain, he stores it here.”
“Really” Nancy said.
Tilo saw the kitchen curtains move, “Now you’re in trouble” He said, “Ma just saw you.”
“You think she’ll give me trouble?”
Tilo just stood there with a slight smile on his face. “You have no idea” He replied.
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Kat and Tilo's closing lines were on point. Good one to say the least, P-M.
Nancy is doomed, no? Because while Yankee, she fits like a tee the profile of a Schultz wife.....