Guns At Cassino (13 page)

`Christ
on a crutch!' he breathed, 'I haven't seen so much fresh meat since the days before rationing!'

`Shut
the shitty door,' the big blonde woman growled, `there's a draught. Or have you got sacks out there!'

Hastily
Schulze did as she ordered. Fat Erna dropped the cloth into the grey water with a splash and began to pummel herself with a towel, sizing the SS man up as she did so.

`Well,
don't stand there like a spare dildo in a convent!' she snapped finally. 'You'd think you'd never seen a naked woman before. Give me that robe on the chair there!'

Schulze
handed the flowered silken kimono to her and while she slipped it on, glanced round her room. Despite the fact that the house was located in Hamburg's poorest working-class district Rotenburgsort, not far from the bombed shunting yards, it was a virtual treasure chest. Cans of coffee were stacked everywhere. One wall was nearly hidden in the brown woollen blankets that would have brought a fortune on the black market, if they could have been sold to those shabby Hamburg housewives who turned such blankets into coats. And the only piece of decent furniture in the room, an enormous double bed was piled high with cartons of American cigarettes, captured on some front or other.

The
boy caught his look.

`Subscriptions
from our workers,' he said proudly, 'sacrificed to help the cause.'

`Pinched
on the trains, you mean,' the enormous woman growled, coiling her long blonde hair into tight plaited snails above her ears. 'And I bet they only gave us half of what they pinched, the bastards.'

`You're
a cynic, Erna.'

She
poked a tobacco-stained finger like a sausage at her enormous bosom and snorted.

`If
you'd have been as long in the Movement as I have, laddie, you'd be a cynic too. You know what Comrade Lenin said about the German working classes - they'd always be too scared to step on the lawn to start a revolution ... You and your workers, you've still got eggshell behind your ears. All right, you don't need to look at me like that. I'm a realist that's all. Now then, what do you want me to do with that?' she jerked a thumb in Schulze's direction.

Schulze
opened his mouth to tell her he didn't fancy her doing anything with him, but decided against it. He closed his mouth again and let the boy do the talking; it might be safer.

The
youngster hurriedly explained the situation, while the fat woman listened in silence, puffing at a thin black cigar. Finally she turned and stared at Schulze, as if she were trying to read his mind.

`All
right,' she said in the end. 'I'll have a go at it. Now listen – and listen carefully to what I'm going to say' Again she poked her sausage-like finger at the big white right breast which kept escaping from her gown every time she moved, as if it led an independent life from the rest of her body.

`All
right, I'll play my Sister Klara role. You've got a head wound? She tapped her forehead. 'You haven't got all your cups in your cupboard any more – it shouldn't be too difficult for you to play that role. You don't look too swift in the upper storey as it is. Anyway, I'm taking you to Professor Sauerbruch, the surgeon at the Charité Hospital in Berlin, to see if he can clear away the cobwebs in your big wooden nut.'

`But
if they're looking for me at the railway station, won't the chain-dogs recognize my big handsome mug?' Schulze protested.

Fat
Erna shook her head in disgust so that her whole enormous body shook.

`It
just goes to show how thick you SS men are! You'll have a flaming bandage round it, won't you, if you've had a head wound! We'll fix it so that even your stupid mother won't recognize it.'

`But
even then I'll need papers.'

`You
ask too many questions, soldier,' the boy interjected. `But you have risked your life to help me and I must help you' His voice rose fervently. We have comrades everywhere these days, waiting for the day when the reckoning with the fascists begins - '

Schulze
gave one of his celebrated farts and brought the lecture on revolutionary principles to a sudden end. The boy glared at him and the big SS man said:

`I'm
sorry, son, it just slipped out like that.'

`Yes,
the fat woman butted in, 'and let that be the only thing that slips out. I know you shitting SS men. I'm not having you trying to get your hand up my skirt or having a fly feel at my tits. Because if you try it on, I'll have your hand off smartish. Understand, soldier?' she growled.

Schulze
gulped. 'Yes, I understand, miss,' he said meekly. `All right then, this is the way we're going to pull it off...’

`You
understand, von Dodenburg,' Wagner said easily after Schellenberg had gone, 'that I shall have to keep an eye on you till you meet that man of yours and fly off with your popguns? I hope you don't mind. But I think it is in everybody's interests.'

Von
Dodenburg nodded morosely and sipped at the
Kron
which Kitty had just brought in. He did not say anything; his mind was too full of his father's words on the telephone. They were going to get rid of the Führer 'by force', his father had said.

`Don't
look so glum, Major,' Wagner said cheerfully, a little flushed from the schnapps. We've got to spend the night together, so we might as well enjoy ourselves. Though I must confess to you that after working in this place on and off for the last couple of years, my tastes have become - how shall I put it - rather refined.'

`What
do you mean?' von Dodenburg asked dully, his speech beginning to slur a little with the fiery spirit.

`What
about having a look?' The big black-uniformed adjutant, who, as von Dodenburg now knew, kept tabs on Himmler for Schellenberg, reached over easily and pressed the bell on the table.

Kitty
appeared almost immediately, her face freshly roughed, her lips bright scarlet, ready for the evening's customers.

`Yes,
Hans-Werner?'

`Are
they there?'

`They're
there, Hans-Werner, but - ,’ she hesitated.

`But,
what?' Wagner bellowed. 'They've come, haven't they? So they know what they're shiningly well here for!'

`I
know, but they are - so young.' The brothel owner's eyes flashed across to von Dodenburg as if she might find support there, but von Dodenburg's mind was too occupied with the question:
what
should
he
do
?

`So
what, they've all got to start somewhere. Shit on the Christmas tree, Kitty, you should know that! And what's the difference between them and your trained performing seals - it's tighter, that's all. Go on, woman, bring them in!'

The
first girl came through the big doors boldly, her budding breasts thrust out provocatively. The second girl, clad like the first in the black and white uniform of the Union of German Maidens, was just as pretty, but hesitant, almost fearful so that Kitty had to give her a gentle push and propel her into the room.

For
a moment the five of them stood there awkwardly: Kitty, the pandar; Wagner, his eyes running up and down the girls' slim young bodies with naked hunger; von Dodenburg, puzzled and nervous; and the two girls neither of whom looked a day over fourteen, the willing and the unwilling victims. Wagner was first to break the silence.

`Well,
von Dodenburg, didn't I say that my tastes were rather - er - refined? All right, Kitty, you've done your duty, now you can get back to your performing seals.' He grinned, not taking his eyes off the first girl with the provocative breasts tilting through the thin material of her white uniform blouse. `There is a war to be won, even in Salon Kitty isn't there?'

The
black-clad Madam hesitated, then she shrugged slightly and closed the big doors behind her.

`Come,
my little rabbit,' Wagner said, crooking his finger at the first Maiden, 'come and sit on my knee. Uncle won't hurt you.'

The
girl giggled and came forward willingly enough, as if she were only too eager to get on with it and have it over and done with. She sat down carelessly on his knee, the short black skirt riding up her bare legs to reveal the simple white panties below. Wagner placed his hand over her breast. She giggled again and made a half-hearted attempt to push his hand away.

`Come
on, Heidi.' she simpered. 'Don't let the officer wait.'

She
indicated von Dodenburg, who knew now what Wagner meant by his 'refined' tastes. Heidi, a pale blonde with serious blue eyes, came forward hesitantly; then with a visible effort of will sat herself on his knee.

`That's
the way,' Wagner roared, pleased with the two girls' reactions, and handed his girl a drink. 'Come on, my little rabbit. Drink up. The night may be cool!'

Again
the Maiden giggled and seizing the glass, emptied it in one go. Wagner pretended amazement.

`That
is what the Führer means by total war, von Dodenburg!' he gasped. 'Even the youngest folk comrade can empty a glass of schnapps in no seconds! Here, little rabbit, have another one.'

`Do
you want one?' von Dodenburg asked the girl on his lap. She shook her head. Her thin hand touched the medals on his stained grey tunic.

`Knight's
Cross, Silver Wound Medal, Combat Infantry Badge, you have them all, Major, you must be a very brave man?'

He
laughed softly despite his mood.

`You
know all about medals and you a girl?' he asked.

Her
beautiful face grew serious.

`In
our home evenings (2) we learn all about medals, Major. The Youth Group Leader says it is important to know what our brave soldiers are giving their blood for.'

`So
you think it's medals that soldiers fight for?' he asked. `But don't answer that question, please. Tell me why you are here instead?'

`I'll
tell you, von Dodenburg,' Wagner butted in a little breathlessly, taking his hand from beneath the other Maiden's skirt,-and winking. 'Because these two darlings feel that they must do something for their Fatherland and the brave men –
us
– who sacrifice their everything for it. In their turn they are prepared to sacrifice a little thing for us, aren't you, dear?' he squeezed his girl's waist.

With
his free hand, Wagner raised his glass.

`Come
on, von Dodenburg, drink. Time is short and art is long. Live a little!' He lowered his voice, his bottom lip wet and gleaming. 'Don't they appeal to you like me? Those little breasts, that faint thatch down there – so nice, and clean and unspoiled - '

`Pig!'
his girl cried and pulled his glass towards her lips.

`Drink,
my darling,' he yelled uproariously. 'But I'm not a pig. That Yid Heine knew what he was talking about when he wrote, 'Thou art like a flower, so beautiful, so loyal, so pure.'

`Oh,
shut up, Captain,' his girl said and drained the glass. `Pure indeed - I was brought up in Berlin-Wedding. (3) There's not much pure there, I can tell you.'

Wagner
laughed delightedly.

`Do
you see what I mean, von Dodenburg? How deliciously corrupt. A child-whore, spoiled at fourteen. But what does it matter? How beautiful and innocent she is, despite what already has been up that delightful skirt.'

The
next instant Wagner had lifted her into his arms, as if she were no weight at all. Rising effortlessly to his feet, but swaying a little with the drink, he stumbled to the door. There he paused and fumbled to open it with one hand, while the girl clung to his neck, her skirt thrown back to reveal her white smooth legs, giggling stupidly. He took one last look at von Dodenburg and the red-faced girl on his knee. Then with the heel of his gleaming jackboot he crashed the door closed behind him.

Von
Dodenburg had taken her cruelly and violently, aware that her screams and struggle were both genuine and specious, feeling as he did so that she, too, was like the world all around him; already rotten, heading for corruption and putrefaction.

Afterwards
she had not cried, but lain there moaning, as if he had inflicted actual physical pain upon her. But he had no mercy; in that moment he had almost hated her. He had pressed his hand up between her smooth young legs and touched the heated crevice between them again. She had gasped with fear and wriggled her child's hips to try to free herself. She had screamed and he had clapped his hand over her mouth and while she had struggled like a wild animal trying desperately to free itself from a trap, he had thrust himself upon her once more.

The
third time he had tormented her, changing his position over and over again, preventing himself from achieving an orgasm, pressing her thin legs high above her head and ploughing her body furiously until she, too, began to feel pleasure and desire. She bit his shoulder and even in his pain, he felt a sense of awareness that she, too, was corrupt now like the whole of Germany was corrupt - like the Reichsführer, Schellenberg, Geier, Wagner, even his own father.