“I’m sure your father was only following orders,” Kurt said.
Gabi shook her head. “No, he had a choice. We all have a choice.”
“And what if he had refused? You know what the consequence would have been.”
Yes, she knew. “We all must die one way or another. Better to die with a clear conscience.” She pursed her lips. “He is weak. He is selfish. He is a monster.” Her puffy eyes drifted past the window and down to her grated palm. “I hate him.”
“He is your father.”
A sob broke free, followed by an abandoned tear. “I can’t fight anymore; I want no part in this nightmare.”
Kurt’s nostrils flared; his expression brutal. “You’ll fight.”
“No.”
“You’ll fight or you’ll die. And if you die, I’ll die too.”
Gabi glared into his eyes and they were wild with fear. But Kurt was right. They were all past the point of no return.
“I fight for you,” she whispered and she clung to him.
“Promise me you’ll speak to no one of this?”
Her body sank into despair, her conscience thrashed into submission. They made love, and Gabi forgot about the war for a while.
The general sipped his coffee. It was just as he liked it: scolding hot and strong enough to corrode metal. He unfolded the newspaper, spreading it out over the table and scanning the daily headlines—all the same pro-Nazi propaganda. The ruse continued.
A story on page three caught his eye and he leaned down into an article on the Luftwaffe Ball, accompanied by a large photograph of Gabi and Kurt dancing like Cinderella and Prince Charming. The caption read ‘Princess Swallow to wed her Prince.’
“Over my dead body,” he mumbled although he had to concede, it was a lovely photograph. And what’s this rubbish about Princess Swallow? The general shook his head and tutted; he would have to go along with this sham now that it was public.
He worried for his daughter, the image of her horrified face still vivid and disturbing. He knew that she needed time to absorb what she clearly did not understand. He would leave it a few weeks before calling her.
As for the file—what had he been thinking? He should have destroyed it the moment it crossed his desk. Damn that Commandant Franz for taking the photos of the camp. Had Himmler not given strict orders to leave no evidence? Franz was a fool and regrettably, the Reich was swarming with such incompetence. It was only through dogged determination that the Reich had held on so long. As for Franz, he would see to it himself that this scoundrel was sent to the eastern front for his stupidity.
The general took a final swig of coffee, now tepid and distasteful, before leaving the apartment. He had an urgent meeting with Hitler, Göring and Himmler that morning in the newly completed Führerbunker.
The raindrops seeped down the window like beads of honey-dew. It had been pouring all night and Kurt and Gabi were huddled up in bed. Gabi was sleeping soundly; Kurt was staring out the window watching the rain with just enough light to see the silhouette of the hangars, and every now and then a bolt of lightning would illuminate the base sending macabre shadows across the yard. He counted slowly to himself—one, two… the crack of thunder exploded with a quake. The storm must be right above them; unusual for this time of year.
Kurt got out of bed and drew the blinds. He switched on a dim lamp and sat down on the bed, studying Gabi while she slept. She looked so peaceful now, but Gabi had struggled the past few days dealing with her father’s part in atrocities that left them both numb. Kurt saw a pained expression come over Gabi’s face, tears breaking through her closed eyelids and trickling onto her pillow. He watched, filled with despair, as she cried in her sleep. Her mouth opened and she gasped between sobs.
“Don’t go… please don’t leave me… I’m sorry, Kurt…”
She was dreaming about him. He recalled the first time they had made love, after their disastrous evening with Hans and Eva at the restaurant. Kurt cringed at his reaction to her anguish that night. He had been such a bastard; how could he have deserted her?
Gabi opened her eyes, and Kurt could see her fear and it pained him.
“I won’t leave you.”
She stroked his cheek and he drew her hand away and to his lips, kissing the scar on her palm soothingly and whispering his love for her.
“Did you know that swallows mate for life?”
Sex became a release for Gabi, a way to cope with a war, a reality she could not face and she sought Kurt out frequently. Unlike her relationship with Hans, Kurt slept with Gabi every night and stayed with her until morning. He didn’t care what the others thought; Gabi needed him and that was all that mattered. Besides, they were supposedly engaged and everyone seemed to turn a blind eye—who would dare question the conduct of their wing commander?
Yuri still haunted her in her sleep, but scenes of mass murder, screaming children and piles of naked bodies also found their way into her nightmares. She pleaded for the nightmares to end but every night was the same so she turned to Kurt. They made love often; its course ran deep, its mood changing like the tide. Sometimes it peaked high with intensity; other times it flowed low with tenderness. She had never known anyone with a sexual appetite that so complemented her own, and she loved him for it.
December 1944
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” The corporal leaned against the wall, eyeing off the latest recruit, a twenty-year-old talented, though inexperienced pilot named Peter Erlich.
“Why, what’s up?”
Another pilot in the group grinned. “They’ve just returned from a sortie. They’ll be at it.”
“At what? What are you talking about?” Peter opened the door and peered inside. A hasty retreat brought on a chorus of sniggers from the other men.
“See, I warned you.”
“What are they doing?” Peter asked.
“Boy, if I have to explain that, you’re too young to be in this war,” the corporal said.
“No, that’s not what I mean. Who are they and why are they doing that there?”
“They’re Major Kurt Dorfmann and Captain Gabriele Richter, the horniest couple in the Reich.”
“Yeh, they’re always at it—like a pair of rabbits—, especially after a sortie. Death and danger must be a real turn on.”
The door swung open and Kurt stepped out into the corridor. He eyed the small group coolly. “Surely, you’ve got something better to do?”
The corporal saluted and stuttered an incoherent response while the others played dumb and stared at their boots.
Gabi stepped through the door, immediately drawing the attention and relieving the frazzled corporal of accountability.
“Hello, who have we here?” she asked the young pilot.
“Officer Candidate Erlich,” he said, saluting stiffly.
Her gaze ran over this fresh-faced young man and she found him appealing as one finds the little brother of a close friend.
“I’m Captain Richter. Where are you from?”
“Dusseldorf, Captain. I’m here to train on the Me-262,” he said, puffing out his chest.
“Ah, then I look forward to flying with you.”
The private blushed.
“I hate to break up this little party but I’ve got better things to do. Let’s go.” Kurt said.
The group saluted after them, dropping their shoulders and rolling their eyes once Kurt and Gabi were out of sight.
“She’s gorgeous,” Peter gushed.
“You’re not wrong there. And she’s the nicest girl you’ll ever meet. I’d give my left testicle to spend a night with Swallow,” the corporal said.