One afternoon, George met Steffi as usual. She seemed excited about something, asking George to skip his coffee. They got into his jeep and Steffi directed him to a street of derelict buildings. The streets during that time of day were full of workers, military men, and machines clearing away rubble. With loose debris already cleared from that street, apart from a few people squatting in their old wrecked homes, the street was deserted. Steffi told George to stop halfway down the street, and they stopped outside a bombed-out house.
“This was my aunt and uncle’s house,” said Steffi, and the couple went inside.
Steffi led George into the living room and after removing a little rubble left on the floor, she opened a large wooden hatch. George helped her lifting the hatch open to reveal a set of steps. Steffi went down first, flipping a switch on a dark wall mid-way down. There came a slight rumble and whirring sound like a car motor starting. She tried several more times until the generator kicked into life and illuminated the stairwell and a cellar at the bottom.
“My uncle was an engineer. He made this bomb-shelter,” Steffi told George as they walked into a small, well-lit room. George noticed a sofa and a single bed, along with various cupboards containing tins of food and water in the brick cellar. It looked similar to his room at the barracks.
George looked around the room and asked, “What happened to your uncle and aunt? This place appears secure enough.”
“The allies shot them when my uncle tried to surrender,” said Steffi sounding nonchalant. She then walked up to George, threw her arms around him, and kissed him passionately.
They lay on the small bed, embracing and caressing each other. Steffi got off the bed and, with George gazing at her, removed her clothes, revealing her luscious, slender body. She gave George an impish smile while she took off his uniform. The rest of the world would be slow to accept or trust the German people again. However, Lieutenant George Sykes had passed the acceptance stage. Although surrounded by destruction and violence, he had found an inner peace being in love with Steffi. Oblivious to the outside world, they shared themselves.
“I could murder a cup of coffee,” joked George, as they lay entwined in each other.
“Oh, I think you want to go see the waitress at the café. I know you like her; you bring her chocolate.” joked Steffi.
“Yep, you’ve caught me: I love the veritable pig in knickers,” said George, as he gave Steffi another lingering kiss.
George had never considered his future before. It had never been a big issue until now. He was unsure how long he would remain in Germany. He knew Steffi would never leave, as she had already told him that she wanted to help rebuild her tattered nation. Feeling both happy, and melancholy, he said, “I know I have only known you a short while, but I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”
“Are you going to propose George Sykes?” Steffi interrupted, looking enigmatic.
George laughed, and mumbled, “No, I just want a coffee.”
They laughed again and Steffi feigned anger.
“You want the pig in knickers to have your babies, don’t you?” she frowned.
“Caught me again,” teased George.
“Baby George Sykes,” said Steffi and giggled.
“Then there would be two babies George’s walking around,” said George and chuckled.
Steffi furrowed her brow and said, “You never mentioned that you had a child… or that you were married,”
George smiled and told her, “I haven’t got children and I am not married.”
George saw Steffi frown and seeing how confused and upset she appeared, and with no doubt about Steffi’s honesty, told her, “Your friends, the Schuler’s, named their baby son after me.”
Steffi looked taken aback and asked George, “Why would Martina and Stefan Schuler name their baby, George Sykes?”
George chuckled and said, “No, silly. They named their baby, George Wolffe. They only used my first name.”
The couple chatted, laughed, and held each other until they noticed the time was drawing near curfew for Steffi. They slowly dressed and went outside.
As George drove back to the barracks, his thoughts were on his future with Steffi even if it meant him staying in Germany. With a smile a mile wide, he returned to the barracks and lay awake on his bunk. For George, the next day could not come soon enough. He formulated plans that would allow them to be together. He was well aware his senior officers would try to dissuade him from marrying a German, the same way he would have done to any of the soldiers under his command. Nevertheless, he felt ecstatic.
After George dropped Steffi at the hospital, she went to the hospital’s basement and walked along a dark corridor into a small office.
Dr Flanman sat behind a desk reading notes. He looked up, smiled, and asked, “Did you get the information?”
Steffi smiled and nodded.
Doctor Flanman smiled and took out a BUCH MOSE folder from his drawer. Flanman removed a file with a partially filled out form with a photograph attached to the top. The photograph was identical to the one Martina had pinned onto her hospital headboard.
Steffi gave Flanman the vital information she had acquired. The doctor smiled and filled in the missing space on the form.
Name: George Wolffe.
Dr Flanman said, “You have done well. Now that we have this vital piece of information for the Füehrer, we can get out of here. I am tired of the stench.”
He stood up, removed his clear glass spectacles and false dental crowns to reveal his normal teeth. He took off his shirt and unhooked a padded bodysuit. Going over to a mirror, he yanked off his grey false beard and other prosthetics that had aged him. Rubbing his now bald head, he sat back down and made a phone call while Steffi went to a wardrobe and took out two folded uniforms and two tin helmets with US insignia. She changed into her uniform. Flanman hung up the telephone and closed the BUCH MOSE folder. He placed it into a brown leather folder with a white star and U.S Presidential seal stencilled on the front.
Flanman changed into a U.S Colonels uniform. He went into his top drawer and took out forged military I.D.s for Lt. Col. David Sanders. U.S Diplomatic attaché, and Lt. Sharon Foreman.
Rudolf Flanman looked at his watch while Steffi went over to a gas stove and boiled the kettle.
They had just finished drinking tea when an American G.I. knocked and entered. Sergeant Hickman clicked his heels together, “Heil Hitler!” he said, saluting them both.
The two returned the hitlergruss and then Flanman asked him, “Everything set?”
“Yes sir. We have a clear passage through to the port. On my way back I briefed the checkpoints that I would be bringing an American VIP through soon,” replied Hickman in German.
“Were there any problems?” asked Steffi.
Hickman smirked, “Only an obnoxious American captain, but he has been taken care of,” said Hickman, “I apologise for not getting more information on the destination, but the John H. Brown’s crew wasn’t told.”
“You briefed our spy on board to tell us anything that we need to know?” asked Steffi.
“Yes, he will call to inform us of any useful information when they dock in America,” said Hickster.
“Okay, let’s go meet with our Füehrer,” said Flanman, standing and putting on his helmet.
They walked outside to the U.S.-marked saloon, passing a pile of stacked rubble by the side of the road. Hickman looked at the pile with disdain.
“A befitting tomb for the arrogant U.S. Army captain,” snarled Hickman, AKA, SS-Standartenführer Tomas Schroeder. He, along with SS-Hauptsurmführer, Dr. Josef Mengele – ‘The Angel of death,’ and Kriminalkomissar, Katrina Frume of the Gestapo, codename: Schwarze Witwe, the black widow, got into the car and drove away.
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