CASTLE MARGARETHEN - 4
Copyright 2004 by Carl Mason and Ed Collins
All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the authors. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the authors at edcwriter@yahoo.com
However based on real events and places, "Castle Margarethen" is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Most of the story takes place in Nazi Germany during the year 1943. Further, the major characters are members of the SS, most young, a few older. We explore their motivations and mixed feelings as human beings for whom the Fuehrer's message was truth. At the same time, however, your authors would make clear their condemnation of the Nazi ideology and atrocities committed by the Schutzstaffel (the SS). Indeed, we condemn ALL organizations, ideologies, and individuals who do harm to humanity and restrict the growth of the human spirit.
This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between adult males and male teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, remember that maturity generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!
CHAPTER 4
(Revisiting the End of Chapter 3)
Moments later, wide-eyed, groggy, wondering what in hell they had done, they peered back over the top edge of the bed towards the others. As Piet, Klaus, Nils, and Jens broke into loud cheers, applause, and laughter, they turned SCARLET! "You guys didn't watch?" moaned Toomas. "Hell, man," Piet answered, "we pledged that we wouldn't SEE anything. That didn't mean we couldn't WATCH...a little!" Toomas groaned and collapsed against Eugen. Knowing that he had to change the subject...fast, Eugen gasped, "You guys ready for a shower?" Laughing like hyenas, the others came over, dragged Eugen and Toomas to their feet, and struggled arm-in-arm into the shower next door. From the hall side of the door, all Sergeant Burmann could hear was a low-pitched chant of "Squad 2...Squad 2...Squad 2!"
(Continuing Our Story - King of the Mountain)
The room was still pitch black when Eugen awakened with Toomas pressed tightly against his front side. Somehow he knew that it was just a few minutes before the first bell. Slowly, he ran his hand over the smooth muscles of his Estonian buddy. God, his taut stomach and his upper thighs were...beautiful. (Eugen wondered if he should even THINK words like that!) The back of his hand against Toomas's heavy cock, his fingers slowly worked their way into the thick thigh muscle. With a soft grunt, Toomas awoke. Squirming onto his back, he hooked his arms around Eugen's neck and drew the two warm, muscular bodies together. Wriggling, twisting, writhing against each other, they came in a veritable flood of cum as the first bell sounded loudly throughout the darkened castle.
Breakfast would have tasted a lot better, if the boys on the side of the table that faced the Squad 4 table hadn't been constantly bumped as they got into their seats and even as they tried to eat. Boris sat at attention with a perfectly straight face, but three of the squad members shared stories in low voices about things they had done to queers on the streets of Amsterdam and Paris. When a waiter tripped on the other side of the room, a sausage came flying across the space between the two tables and landed in the middle of Nils' plate. Covered with thick saliva, the head had been gnawed off. Boris immediately rose, pushed his way over to Nils, and retrieved the sausage from his plate, saying stiffly, "Sorry, accidents happen." Only Lars and the smaller lad, Joost (pronounced YOOST; another Dutchman), who was yesterday victimized by their new squad leader appeared to keep their eyes grimly on their food. Eugen kept eye contact with his young men, muttering only one word, "Order." Confident that he would take care of the matter, they maintained their discipline.
Even more than yesterday, the men of Second Squad were relieved to enter the gym area, stow their shorts, and head out onto the wide expanse of lawn that flowed from the Castle Keep. Yelling like the demons of Hell, they headed for Sergeant Instructor Krupke who stood with his two staff members at the side of a great pile of rubble on the edge of the lawn. As they approached, he nodded at Piet and yelled, "I saw you at the gym yesterday, Oberscheutze [SS- Private First Class]! Good! Ok, men, around the field four times. When you get back here, I don't want you to have ANYTHING left! Go!" Spurred on by the staff members who raced beside them, they took off at breakneck speed.
Gasping for air, the sweat pouring down their bodies, barely able to stand, they stood in front of Sergeant Krupke, their heavy, muscular arms resting on their buddies' shoulders to steady themselves. "Not half bad, Second Squad, though I KNOW you can run faster! Some of you may need to practice a bit before tomorrow. Ok... Today's problem concerns that mountain in front of you. It's a sacred place, men! I had it trucked up here over three days after a particularly barbarous bombing of a German city." Laying it on a bit thick for his young charges, he added, "I've had it cleaned up a bit, but we still occasionally find the bones of a child's hand or blood-spattered pages from a family copy of "Mein Kampf" (Hitler's seminal apologia). In any case, it's sacred German land! Three of you will defend it; the remaining three will attempt to capture it."
Protective helmets were issued to the combatants, as well as thickly padded black jockstraps. Each man was then given a five foot (1.52m) "battle pole." About an inch (2.54 cm) in diameter, both ends were capped by what looked like medium-sized black leather boxing gloves. The caps were not weighted, but they were hard. After several minutes instruction in the use of the poles, Piet, Jens, and Klaus were sent onto the mountain, while Eugen, Nils, and Toomas poised for the whistle that would begin their attack. With wild yells, Eugen's team rushed up the steep slope. Battles raged up and down and back and forth, all six SS men landing and parrying heavy blows. As it appeared that Piet's defenders were about to be pushed over the summit of the mountain, disaster struck the attackers. Nils was hit squarely in the solar plexis by vicious swing of Piet's pole. In pain, the wind knocked completely out of him, he fell backwards over a large boulder near the summit. Piet paused over him, his pole at ready. "We don't take prisoners in the SS, Oberschuetze!" Sergeant Krupke yelled from below. "Finish him off!" Hesitating only a moment, Piet swung his pole, slamming the heavy end cap into Nils' jaw. As the tall Norwegian's head snapped backwards, he was out like a light. "Attack, defenders!" Krupke screamed. Outnumbered and having seen what had happened, the battle was over in a few minutes as Eugen and Toomas were forced back down the hill and onto the lawn. A whistle signaled that the attack was over. As a staff member signaled that Nils was alright, the Sergeant Instructor gathered the boys about him.
"If I EVER see you hesitate in battle again, Oberschuetze, you will not only be a Schuetze [SS- Private] on the spot, but you will be on report to Major Storch! Do you understand me, soldier?" he screamed into Piet's face. "Jawohl, Herr Oberscharfuehrer! [SS-Technical Sergeant]" Piet snapped. "And, attackers," he yelled at Eugen and Toomas, the SS does not stop when one man falls. It fights on to VICTORY! Do you understand me?" "Jawohl, Herr Oberscharfuehrer!" Eugen and Toomas yelled simultaneously. "And defenders, that was one of the most limp-wristed counterattacks I've ever seen in my life! Do you understand me?" "Jawohl, Herr Oberscharfuehrer!" the victors yelled at the top of their lungs. "Very well, return your gear, go get your comrade, and head for the showers!" Krupke ordered in a tone of massive displeasure.
"That's what happens when we accept a bumpkin who hasn't even finished basic training," Krupke growled to his staff members. "Keep your eyes on him. The tall kid...Nils...is ok?" he asked his medical assistant. "Jawohl, Herr Oberscharfuehrer!" his assistant snapped; "I don't think he even has a concussion. Those damned Norwegians are tough as nails." Sergeant Krupke nodded sharply, muttered, "So, it was a valuable lesson that may save their lives some day," and walked away.
All men helping, Nils was carried down the hill. At the bottom, his face under tight control, Piet removed his helmet and protective strap, took him in his arms, and carried him towards the shower. The others marched smartly behind. Sergeant Krupke watched approvingly from beside the castle. The tall blond was regaining consciousness by the time they reached the shower area. Yet to utter a word, Piet supported him in the shower as he lathered his body and massaged his neck and shoulders. Helping him back to a bench after they had finished, he sat the boy down and gently rubbed some liniment into his solar plexus, as well as into his heavy neck and shoulders. Obviously, Nils was going to have some colossal bruises! Grunting and struggling painfully to his feet, the former member of the famed SS-Viking Division placed his arms around Piet and gasped, "Thanks, friend." Grinning widely, Piet said, "Anytime, buddy!" As if the air had burst from a balloon, conversation suddenly resumed in the shower room.
Smartly, but at a slightly slower pace than usual, Squad 2 marched to their Sex Instruction class. "What's up with Nils?" Sergeant Instructor Burmann asked Eugen as Nils slipped painfully, albeit unaided, into his chair. "He got poked pretty hard a couple of times with a battle pole, Sergeant," Eugen responded, "but he'll live." "Sergeant Krupke's 'King of the Mountain' game, eh?" Burmann asked with something of a grin. Eugen couldn't help but roll his eyes towards the ceiling and answer, "Yeah." "That's 'Jawohl, Herr Oberscharfuehrer!" Burmann corrected in a normal voice. As Eugen snapped to attention, he continued, "Just remember that Sergeant Krupke is one of the finest NCOs in the SS. I personally saw him risk his life to save men at both Posen and Smolensk. That's why he holds the Iron Cross 1st Class. He's rough, but he's a fine soldier. Learn from him!" "Jawohl, Herr Oberscharfuehrer!" Eugen snapped. "That's the way," Burmann responded with a smile.
As their instructor moved to the front of the room, he lightly rested his hand on Nil's shoulder. Assuming his regular position beside the front table, he turned to Second Squad. "Today's lesson is rather like yesterday's," he began, "with a little twist." A loud groan spread through the room. Recognizing it for what it was...humor...he looked up questioningly. Suddenly, he realized it was far more. The six young men who sat facing him were no longer scared or resistant. Looking at their open and attentive faces, he also realized something else, something that is one of the high moments for any young teacher. He had them in the palm of his hand! Today, they would follow him...anywhere that he chose to lead. He knew that SOMETHING was going on with Second Squad last night, but THIS! Wow! Feeling on top of the world, he continued. "Yep, yesterday, you could only use your hands. Today, you can only use your mouths, lips, and tongues. Enjoy!" A couple of snickers began to break out, but were cut short as he looked around with a raised eyebrow. "I need a volunteer." Six youngsters immediately leapt to attention, their arms extended in salute. (Well, Nils was a little slower to struggle to his feet, but...you know.) "Ok, Nils, you seem to be active today. Front and center!" Lowering the table slightly so that Nils could sit on it and helping him to swing his legs up onto the surface, he quickly raised it to working height. Gather 'round, men. Nothing - I tell you nothing - turns a man or a woman on more than some good tongue and lip work. Let me show you." Inasmuch as Nils was already lying towards the very bottom of the table, Burmann grasped a smooth thigh and began to lick and suck at the heavy muscles that begin just above the knee. Slowly, he worked his way up the leg, paying particular attention to the inner thigh as he moved higher. As he approached Nil's balls, he could notice that the skin between his lips and nose was already covered in beads of sweat. As he laved the youth's satin-smooth scrotum, Nil's cock slowly erected. Not wanting to do anything that would cause the young man's body to jerk, he stopped. "But, hey, it works at either end! Watch." With that he began licking Nil's ear and nibbling on his earlobe. All went well until he thrust his tongue into the boy's ear and Nils moaned with pleasure. As the boy's head jerked slightly, however, the moan turned into a low groan of pain. "Sorry, Viking!" "That's ok, Sergeant." Asking Jens to lift the boy's arm gently, he attacked his smooth pit. The moans increased. Some of the boys' cocks were visibly swelling. Moving over to the lad's nipple, he bathed it in saliva, twirled his tongue around the areola, and titillated the nipple with tongue and lips. Even though he did not nip the tip, Nil's pale cock suddenly hardened, the color deepened, and a few drops of precum began flowing down over the rosy glans.
"Ok, buddies to your tables! Hold it, I need a volunteer." All arms were raised in the Hitler salute. "Ok, Piet, come here. "Kiss me, soldier!" A slightly shell-shocked Dutchman bent down slightly and laid a light buss on his Sergeant. "Holy shit, Piet, that was terrible. Ugh..." Burmann sputtered as he wiped his lips. "You're a man - and one hell of a big one - and I'm a man, and not exactly puny. You're not kissing your five-year old niece good night! Now do it again - and do it right!" Resting his hands on his Sergeant's shoulders, Piet reached down and kissed Burmann more firmly. "Better!" the Sergeant allowed, "but not good enough. When you have your lips locked on mine, I want you to slowly insert your tongue. Let the tip of your tongue taste my lips, explore my teeth, and do a little battle with my tongue. Go!" Displaying the first blush seen in the classroom that day, Piet firmly gripped his Sergeant's upper arms, bent down, and ATTACKED! As they stood there - action obviously underway - Piet's husky cock suddenly snapped to full attention. Gasping, wide-eyed, he abruptly broke away from the Sergeant and stumbled backwards with a loud cry of mixed terror, excitement, passion...you name it. The Sergeant laughed as he went over to the panting hunk, rumpled his hair, and chortled, "Great job, Oberschuetze!" As his buddies broke into wild (and somewhat bawdy) cheers, the Dutchman's face, neck, upper chest, and genitals turned a shade of red that you would have had to see to believe!
"Ok, buddies, to your tables! Remember that if you can reach it - front or rear - it's fair game! As Nils struggled to rise, the Sergeant told him to hold and motioned for Jens, his buddy, to come over to the table. "There's no need for Nils to move again. You guys use this table. Jens, I don't want this man's body to jerk. When that happens, we're going to make a change. Watch carefully and let me know." "Jawohl, Herr Oberscharfuehrer!" Jens replied and took over.
The lesson progressed well, the Sergeant moving from table to table and making suggestions. All six cocks were fully erect and dripping when Burmann called a halt and instructed the lads to change positions. Walking over to the Vikings' table, he said, "I'm going to give you a few minutes break, Nils, before the final activity. Then I'll make you work some more. Lie here. Jens and I will use your regular table."
As they reached the table, Burmann quickly stripped as Jens climbed up on the table and lay down on his back. Jens couldn't help but stare at him for a moment. 'Man, oh man, what a hunk!' he thought. And, indeed, the Sergeant was surely that...and more. Even at 24, his chest was relatively smooth, though there were bushes of reddish blond hair in his pits, a tuft between his pecs, and a treasure trail leading down to a thick pubic bush. It appeared that he kept his genitals shaved. His thighs were lightly furred; his calves, more heavily so. But it was his BODY that really caught Jens' attention. Tall, magnificently muscled without being overdeveloped - not a scintilla of fat on him - every part of his body belonged in a museum. 'My God,' he thought, 'I never thought I'd ever see Thor (popular son of the dominant Norse god, Odin) in the flesh! What Jens didn't realize at that moment was that he was involved in a mutual admiration society! Looking down at the sturdy lad, Burmann grinned and said, "Gymnast, eh?" "Yes, Sergeant! Three all-arounds - and earlier this year I won the Division's junior championship," he proudly boasted. The Sergeant could see why. Below a mop of burnished gold, the young man's body was gloriously developed. His pale golden skin, firm and as silky-smooth as a baby's bottom, stretched over proud muscles. His shoulders, biceps, and forearms were works of art. His thick chest thrust upwards like the prow of a ship, his pink, quarter-sized areolae lighting the way. Burmann found himself looking forward to tonguing those tightly sculpted abs and the taut, but muscled stomach. A long thick cock - a good 9 inches (22.86 cm) now that it was hard erect - towered proudly over a substantial sack. It was his thighs, though, that mesmerized the Sergeant. Heavily muscled and smooth, they had to be the most perfect that he had ever seen on a man.
As both young men swallowed convulsively, the Sergeant caught himself and said (in as normal a tone of voice as he could muster), "Let me tell you before I forget it that you deserve congratulations on the way in which you are maintaining your buddy's body. There wasn't a trace of stubble on his scrotum and his ear canal was so clean that you could eat out of it!" "Thank you, Sergeant," Jens softly murmured, as he tried to swallow again. "Ok," Burmann continued, "let me get to work!" And get to work he did. Leaning down, he kissed Jens hard, enjoying the vigorous interplay between their tongues. Within seconds, he could feel the youngster's cock pulsing strongly below him - as his own sword went from swollen to hard. 'No use trying to hide it,' he thought to himself. Slowly, he tongued up the front of Jens' muscled neck, pausing momentarily to lightly suck on his Adam's Apple. Running his tongue down the boy's sharp Nordic jawbone, he allowed it to continue right on to his nipples. There was nothing gentle about his movements, movements that were capped by lightly biting the boy's nipple. Jens gasped loudly, his eyes flew open and widened, he half sat up. Grinning at the Sergeant, all he could say was, "Wow!" Pushing his charge's torso back onto the table, Burmann made good on his promise to himself and laved the youngster's abs and lower stomach. If human beings could purr, Jens would have been sawing wood! As it was, he lay relaxed with his beautiful head thrust back, his eyes closed, and an absolutely ecstatic smile on his face. This didn't last long. Using a large amount of saliva, the Sergeant Instructor gave a thorough bath to the teen's ample scrotum before, that is, he gently drew one of his egg-sized balls into his mouth. (His mouth was large, but there was no way that BOTH of those monsters were going to fit!) Jens' body went rigid, the precum absolutely gushing from his cock which now was a shiny pink in color with every part cast into high relief. Before the boy could blow, he (reluctantly) allowed the ball to escape and ordered him to turn over. (Both men needed the little break!) Strangely enough, the back of Jens' neck was especially sensitive, and he moaned in delight. The best, however was yet to come. After a minute or two, the young Sergeant told his subject to hold his cheeks apart. Slowly, he licked and tongue-tickled his way down the Scandinavian youth's crack until he reached the anus. 'I know this is in tomorrow's lesson,' he thought, 'but I deserve a little reward for this day's work.' Slowly, he laved the anus before beginning to twirl the tip of his tongue over it in a tight circle. Jens' body again went rigid and his moans became insistent. Suddenly, Burmann sat back as the youngster's anus popped wide open - after less than a minute's work! The boy's sturdy body was beginning to shake. 'Oh, oh, time to stop,' he murmured to himself. Wrapping an arm around the youth's broad back, he helped him to turn over and sit up. The youngster looked up him imploringly with puppy-dog eyes. "Sergeant, I've got to cum...so-o-o bad," he whispered plaintively. "Hold it for a few more minutes, soldier - and that's an order," Burmann said in a tone that brooked no disagreement.
Somewhat reluctantly putting his shorts back on before checking with the other two tables, he found that Klaus had cum - all over the place. The other boys were just hard as steel and hot (very, VERY hot!). Throwing a cloth to Klaus, he laughingly told him not to worry about it...that he'd "have more" in a few minutes. He then asked Nils if he were good for a bit more or if it were time to wrap it up for the day. Nils insisted that he felt considerably better. Indeed, when he turned to lie on his side, he did appear to be considerably more agile. "Ok, the Sergeant Instructor agreed, but don't be stupid. Heroes don't do me any good if they're in the hospital!"
"Who can tell me what a 'blow job' is?" Burmann asked in a no-nonsense tone of voice. Several snorts erupted in the room, but the Sergeant generously ignored them. "Rottenfuehrer?" [SS-Corporal]. Wondering if it were a trick question, Eugen replied cautiously, "A blow job, Sergeant Instructor, involves a male - or a female, if she'll ever do it (he added in a tone of remembered frustration) - sucking your cock until you come." The snorts broke out again. This time their instructor glared in the direction of Piet, Klaus, and Nils...who blushed and promptly shut up. "You're headed in the right direction, Rottenfuehrer, but I don't think I've ever heard a deader description of one of the best moments in sex. Sounded like you had been sucking on the cock of a cadaver!" he added with a grin. (Laughter met his sally, which brought no glares from a young instructor who was having a VERY good day.) "For our final exercise, I'm going to teach you how to do it...the right way!"
"Piet, give me a hand." With Piet's help, he positioned Nils as low as he could get on the table and then asked Jens to sit on the other end facing his buddy. "Put one hand slightly to the side and behind you to steady yourself," he ordered, "spread your legs comfortably, and then raise one knee and position the sole of your foot squarely on the table. Good! Gather 'round, men. Ok, Nils, crawl up between Jens' legs until you are very close to his cock and balls. This can be done from a million positions, guys, but this is as good a way to begin as any. POINT 1: Cock- sucking is not just about the cock. Anything that gives your buddy pleasure is fair game! See that seam of flesh that runs up the center of his scrotum and the underside of his cock? Using a lot of saliva, lick it." With some difficulty, Nils raised his head to get his mouth in place and, thrusting a hand under the nuts to steady his prey, licked away like crazy. The imploring, puppy-dog look quickly returned to Jens' eyes as he looked up at his Sergeant. "You can also reach back and firmly massage and press the perineum - a task that Nils entered into with enthusiasm. "Oh-h-h-h-h-h!" Jens moaned loudly - to the high amusement of the group...even though they knew enough to keep it in check. POINT 2: "Good work, Nils! Now lift up your buddy's cock so that everyone can see the underside. Gently now... He's pretty stiff, and he's not likely to appreciate your tearing it off." "That's right, numbnuts! Listen to the Sergeant!" Jens snarled menacingly. "Oberschuetze!" Burmann growled. "Yes, Sergeant!" Jens responded, though he did not sound overly apologetic. "Ok, Nils. Do you see that area right at the bottom of the head...in the center? The seam runs right up to it...that little triangular area... and there's almost a line between it and the urethra or piss hole. It's an elastic band of tissue that helps your foreskin to cover and uncover the head. Tickle your tongue over what's called the 'frenulum'." Jens was considerably less than one second away from exploding when Burmann told Nils to stop. As the youngster moaned and shook his head, his arm almost collapsed, which could have send him sprawling backwards over the end of the bed. "Toomas, stand in back of Jens and give him some support. POINT 3: Ok, on the final approach, you've got to be careful with your teeth. Keep them covered with your lips." (The instructor demonstrated how to manage this.) "Lots of saliva now, Nils. Licking and sucking, carefully take the head of his penis into your mouth. Swirl your tongue around the head, let it play lightly on the very top..." Suddenly - though it may not have helped the lesson all that much - the long- suffering Jens let out a wild SHRIEK and exploded into his buddy's mouth! (Nils and Jens both proudly boasted afterwards that Jens had shot what seemed like a gallon or 3.79 liters of cum!) EXTRAS: "Would you like a few other hints?" the Sergeant Instructor inquired. The looks on the faces of all six boys was answer enough! Quickly, he explained how to "deep throat." He also mentioned the importance of constant communication between the giver and the receiver. Let your buddy know what feels good, what you like, and when he should stop or start," Burmann insisted. "For instance," he stated, when my wife gives me head, she loves me to run my fingers through her hair and touch her face." "Your wife?" Klaus gasped. "You're straight? But why..." (The room suddenly fell into deep silence as everyone realized Klaus had gone beyond the line.) Passing it off lightly, the instructor grinned and said, "Sure...most men - though surely not all - are." "But why?" the somewhat dim-witted Klaus persisted. "Well, Klaus, you answered that question yourself yesterday. I am an SS soldier. Wenn der Fuehrer spricht, folge ich! [When the Fuehrer speaks, I obey!]." Hearty laughter - albeit a bit forced - broke the tension. "Whew..." Eugen whispered to no one in particular.
"Ok, men, we're running out of time. Buddies to your tables! You're all worked up, so both of you should get a turn." Nils suddenly asked the Sergeant to bend down. "Sergeant, I'm real sorry, but my neck is killing me. You told me to say when it was time to stop. I'll get my turn later," he leered at a fast-recovering Jens - who, as soon as the Sergeant wasn't looking, gave him the finger. "Ok, Jens, if you want to do the honors, I'm all yours. Just know that you don't have to." Trying his best to keep a straight face (even though inside he was grinning like the proverbial chessy cat and inaudibly mumbling, "YES-S-S!"), Jens nodded affirmatively and headed for the old table.
It didn't take any of them long. They were already too hot - and they were all young. Stifled screams began breaking out all over the room - even though a happy Jens kept licking and sucking away as he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of his Sergeant's hands running through his hair and caressing his face. Although it made them the last to make it, he even deep-throated his hero after only one failed attempt. Wiping cum from his lips and doing a gymnastic side dismount, he moved around the table to face the Sergeant Instructor, came to rigid attention, and vigorously raised his arm in salute. "Vielen Dank [Many thanks], Herr Oberscharfuehrer!" he barked - before his face collapsed into a grin. "Yeah, right," a well-serviced NCO mumbled as he wearily climbed down off the table.
As the boys, all in high spirits, made ready to march to lunch, Sergeant Burmann pressed a small bag into Jens' hand. There are some pills here for your buddy and a small bottle of liniment. Just follow the directions on the labels. You take them and let him concentrate on walking." (The boys had been massaging Nils' neck and shoulders for some minutes and he appeared to be recovering.) Just before they fell into marching formation, Eugen approached and asked if he might speak with him for a moment immediately after supper "on official business." Fearing that he knew what was bothering Eugen and, if he were correct, it was something that could easily turn into a "lose-lose" situation, he nodded and said, "In my office, Rottenfuehrer."
Neither of the next day's activities was particularly noteworthy in itself, though events in each did heighten Eugen's determination to speak frankly with his Sergeant. Lunch, for instance, seemed to be progressing normally - until Nils was tripped as he navigated his way out of the space between the Squad 2 and 4 tables. When he was helped to his feet, he was barely able to stand straight, let alone walk. When the Second Squad boys reached their Officers' Training classroom, they found their instructor, Sergeant Wagner, reading from a sheet of paper. Scowling heavily, he didn't seem to be at all pleased by what he was reading. As their first Squad class began, he announced that his usual plan was to open class by asking a few questions on the reading and/or other assignments. What caught Eugen's attention was that he opened today's class by asking the first questions of Piet and Klaus - good SS soldiers, but not exactly the "bright lights" of the Second Squad. Furthermore, the subjects were so obscure as to make the questions ludicrous - and their purpose all too transparent. (To his delight - as well as the amazement of some of his buddies - both questions were answered adequately!)
As the young men returned to their squad room at the beginning of their (free) fourth period, the subject of "homework" was probably foremost in their minds. They had to agree with their leader, however, that they had better get out on the field and run a bit. Thus, as soon as they had provided food and water and made Nils comfortable, they left for the gym. As they returned towards their room, following a vigorous, satisfying workout, they noted that only the very last of the fourth period students remained downstairs. If anything, they found the stairs and the hallway above to be strangely deserted. The reason appeared soon enough. In front of their squad room, they found Sergeant Burmann holding onto young Joost from the Fourth Squad. Joost had been painting a large pink triangle on their door! (The pain pills having gotten to him, Nils was fast asleep inside.) Terrified to the point of being nearly incoherent, he was able to do little more than mumble repeatedly, "I didn't want to do it; they made me do it." At that point, Sergeant Bayer came on the scene and asked Burmann to release the boy to his custody. Reminding Bayer that he was the Duty Office of the Day, Burmann said that he preferred to speak with Joost before releasing him to anyone. He added that he would release him if his buddies had removed the paint by the time he returned. If not, he would "request" that Sergeant Bayer join him in taking the boy to Major Storch. Needless to say, Bayer was furious, though he quickly decided that this was not the time to push the matter, at least with Burmann. There were others with whom he could speak more profitably. Returning just as Second Squad was preparing to march to supper, he found that the paint had been removed. Before leaving for supper, Burmann took Joost up the hall to his squad room.
For the first time in several meals, the men of Second Squad were able to enjoy their evening meal. Even more determined to bring this unpleasant situation to a head, their Corporal knocked on Sergeant Burmann's office door within five minutes of leaving the supper table. After entering and saluting, Eugen was a bit surprised when the Sergeant asked him to sit down and, further, asked if he would be willing to speak "unofficially" and "confidentially." Trusting the non-com and feeling that he offered their best hope of resolving the situation, Eugen agreed. Burmann got to the point quickly. "I know most of what's been happening," he said, "and I can tell you that it's very dangerous, both to you and to the Program. Hatred and politics are an explosive mixture." Eugen could not help but remember Colonel Kreuze's earlier warning of danger.
"Part of my problem, Sergeant, is that I just can't hold discipline much longer," Eugen admitted. "To make it worse, I really can't blame my guys. Look at everything that happened today! Sooner or later - and I think sooner - they're going to want revenge for what has happened to Nils - or for having a queer sign painted on the squad door." "I know, Corporal," Burmann replied calmly, "but WE'VE got to keep our heads and figure something out. If we don't, the hatred will stay underground and simmer until it explodes and people - staff and students - are kicked out. I believe that's exactly what some people want." The discussion went on for the better part of an hour with plans being generated, discussed, and dismissed. Finally, the Sergeant Instructor paused and said, "Try this out. There's an old SS custom with roots in the 19th century that says an aggrieved party can publicly challenge the offending party to a duel. In this century that's come to mean a 'no rules' boxing match. There ARE possible ADVANTAGES. The whole Program gets to hear about the details of the harassment in your challenge. Like vampires, crap doesn't do very well when exposed to light," he chortled. "The very fact that they're out in the open would probably mean that Fourth Squad would have to back off, at least temporarily...like they did at supper tonight." ('He noticed,' Eugen thought to himself.) "And, if you won, it would make them back off for a considerably longer time. Nevertheless, there are also DISADVANTAGES. Major Storch would be in charge. The fact that he and Bayer are close would make it difficult to arrange fair terms. I'd bet, for instance, that Bayer would insist the two ranking enlisted men fight - rather than Boris and Piet, for example. You know, Eugen, in terms of weight, height, and reach, you just don't belong in the same ring with Boris. I've only seen two of them, but I can tell you that 'no rules' SS fights are bloody brawls. If you lost, the consequences could be deadly." Given the hour, the two men decided to call it a night, to continue thinking about possible plans, and to talk again on the morrow.
When Eugen re-entered the squad room, he found that the guys had already helped Piet and Klaus with the Officers' Training work. Though he felt it involved imposing even further on their trust, he told them nothing beyond the fact that he and the Sergeant were working on how to stop the harassment. There were a few looks exchanged, but his squad obviously continued to take him at his word.
Tired, Eugen went over to his bed and lay down. Within minutes, Toomas dropped down onto the edge of the mattress. "Hard day today, buddy?" he asked. "Yeah, Squad 4 is beginning to get to me. They're forcing me to do things that I really don't want to do, waste my time on things that don't do my life a damned bit of good. I'm real tired of it." "Want me to help out a little?" Toomas asked gently. Eugen looked around. Things were relaxed. Piet and Klaus were playing cards. Nils was obviously getting his "turn" that he had missed earlier in the day. "What do you have in mind?" he grinned. "Just let me show you, Corporal." Slowly - and very seductively - Toomas climbed up on the bed. By the time the action had ended and the whole squad had made their way into the shower room, most of his frustrations had been (well) drained. Coming four times in a single evening has a way of doing that to a guy!
As he climbed into bed next to his buddy, it's true that he was exhausted. Nevertheless, for the first time in quite a while, his mind was at ease. Though he couldn't speak for others, he knew exactly what he had to do to respond to the harassment.
(To Be Continued)