The Germans slept soundly. At least two of them were snoring. Mastny gave the signal and they rushed in, clubs flailing. The two men and the older woman were hit and clubbed unconscious before they could even move. Victor jumped on the young woman and held a cloth to her mouth and a knife to her throat while the others grabbed the girl. The two were bound and gagged before they were even fully awake. So too were the three others, although Mastny wasn’t certain they were still alive.
“Don’t make a noise and you won’t get hurt,” he hissed at both of the women. “The others are only stunned. Cooperate and they’ll be all right. Don’t and we’ll slice their throats and then yours. Understand?” The woman and the girl nodded, their eyes wide and frantic with terror.
It was cold and the idea of sex in that kind of weather would normally have been off-putting, but it had been so long and the idea of fucking the helpless Germans was just too exquisite. They stripped the two women and enjoyed the sight of their pale bodies shaking from both cold and fright. Both of them were stout, like good German frauleins, and they writhed in terror as Victor touched them. Victor took the youngest one first, while the Latvians took the older. Then they traded places. The Latvians had been brutal with the woman. She was bleeding heavily and unconscious. Victor laughed and rolled her over on her belly. Victor had just finished taking the woman anally while the Latvians did what they wanted to the girl when a sudden scream pierced the air.
“Help! Murderers!”
The old woman had not only regained consciousness, but had slipped out of her bonds while the three men had been violating her daughters. She ran towards the road, screaming and howling.
Sounds came from other refugees and the column was stirring itself. To further complicate matters, the young girl now managed to get up and get away from the astonished Latvians with her screams adding to the din.
Shit, Victor thought. “Get their bags.” He had a thought and groped through the women’s clothing. He laughed as he found a bulge sewn into a coat. He grabbed it and other coats and ran off with the Latvians.
They did not go directly to the Mullers’ barn. Instead, they zigzagged. As far as they could see, the refugee column was awake, but no one was looking for them. When they were a mile or so away, they opened the luggage. There was money, lots of money, and not only Deutschmarks, but British pounds and even a few hundred dollars in American money. It seemed the family was hoarders and speculators who couldn’t possibly complain to anyone about losing their illegal stash. Even better, there were several items of jewelry that Victor thought were gold. More money was found in the lining of the young woman’s jacket, but these were all Deutsche Marks which would be valueless if the Nazis lost.
They threw away the luggage and the clothing and headed to the barn where they would bury their valuables. They weren’t rich, but it was a start, especially since Victor had no intention of sharing it with the stupid Latvian twins.
Colonel Whiteside grimaced as he looked at the score of officers and senior noncoms in front of him. They had a rough idea what he was going to say and weren’t terribly happy. They’d heard plenty of rumors and, if they were correct, the world according to Eisenhower had gone nuts.
“Gentlemen,” Whiteside began, “the word has come down from Eisenhower that we are to treat the Germans as a conquered nation, and not a liberated people like the French. We are not to go easy on them and we are most certainly not to fraternize with them. You will doubtless hear protests from civilians that they weren’t Nazis, or they quit when they found out what the Nazi swine were doing, or they were afraid not to be Nazis because of repercussions, but it is all bullshit. You are to disregard all protests as the lies they are and consider all Germans as the enemy.”
There was shifting as the men didn’t quite look at each other. “That means,” Whiteside continued, “that you may not do any business of any kind with a kraut. You may not buy anything with our money because it’s illegal for Germans to have American money, and you most certainly may not sell anything for kraut money with Hitler’s picture on it.”
Levin raised his hand. “How do we buy local stuff like food if we can’t pay for it, or is looting now sanctioned by Ike?”
Whiteside glared at him. “Someday, Levin, I am going to kill you. If you have to requisition something, you give the ex-Nazis a receipt.”
“Does that go for sex?” Carter asked impishly. “A lot of these hungry little ex-Nazi fraus and frauleins will happily fuck for food? Is that okay?”
Whiteside was normally a calm man, but his face was turning red. “The word for the policy is a long one, Carter, its nonfraternization. It means that not only may you not buy or sell anything, you also may not have any sexual contact with the conquered Germans, or any other social contact with them, and that includes being invited to dinner by a bunch of ancient nuns. Now, I know that a lot of kraut women will go down for food, but it is against Ike’s policy of nonfraternization and there will be punishments if someone is caught.”
Twenty heads nodded. The word “if” was the key. As with anything else, if you don’t get caught you can’t get punished. Enforcing this was going to be fun, Morgan thought.
“Any idea how long this policy is going to be in effect, and what will happen to anyone who violates it?” Jack asked.
Whiteside managed a smile. “Got anybody in mind?”
Morgan laughed along with everyone else. “Probably half the regiment. Sir, it’s common knowledge that we’re going to halt for the winter on this side of the Rhine and that there’ll be a lot of guys with a lot of time on their hands and a lot of women who’d do just about anything for a good meal, even if that includes C-rations. So what’s going to happen to the poor klutz who gets caught?”
“First off,” Whiteside answered, “we have to get to the Rhine before we can discuss a halt for the winter. As to the rest of it, I think we all recognize that we can’t totally stop three thousand horny guys from taking advantage of many thousands of willing, hungry, and maybe equally horny German women. Use your discretion when something happens. Threaten to drop them in rank, give them extra duty, and, if that doesn’t work, say you’re going to write their wives and mothers if you have to. If all else fails, tell them if they catch the clap, they won’t get penicillin and they’ll have to suffer until their dicks fall off.”
Jeb grabbed his crotch and moaned. “It hurts, it hurts.”
Whiteside shook his head. “I have no idea why anybody thinks we are winning this war. Dismissed.”
“Cigarettes will become money,” Levin said as they walked back to their tents. “Each GI gets two packs a day. Just cut down on smoking, which is probably good for you, and you can use the money to buy happiness.”
“Buy it?” Jack said.
“I believe he’s talking about a short-term rent, not even a lease.” Carter grinned. “I hear the going rate is two cigarettes for a suck and four for a genuine fuck. At twenty fags a pack, you do the math. Give up the smoking for fucking and you’ll not only live longer but you’ll be a lot happier.”
“What’s the German word for fuck?” Carter asked.
“Hitler,” Levin answered. “And the German words for sucking cock is Himmler. So you tell a kraut broad you want a Himmler and she’ll understand and start working your fly.”
Jack chuckled and shook his head. “How the hell can we make fun of this and laugh when a war is going on?”
“Do we have a choice?” Levin responded. “If we don’t laugh we’ll all go nuts. Don’t you recall something about the gods first making mad those they will destroy?”
Carter shook his head. “Levin, you are a cheerful fuck.”
“I just wonder what I can get for only one cigarette?” Jack wondered. “Probably just a titty-grab.”