The Division of the Damned (31 page)

Von Struck reacted quicker than he thought. He landed a right punch
flush on the Schmidt’s chin and he went down like a dropped anvil. "You can show a bit of respect, you insign
ificant little worm," he hissed.
"My father is not a traitor and if he dies at Torgau, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

The policeman rubbed his chin. "This is not helping your case, Herr Von Struck.”

"It’
s Standartenführer Von Struck
—
a rank I earned in the field.”

"You may not have any rank at all if you insist on mutiny. Think carefully, Standartenführer. We could kill you all quite easily here or you come with us peacefully and let the military court decide what to do." He took a step closer to Von Struck and whispered in his ear. "You don’t have a chance, I’ll grant you that, but think of your men. They’ll end up in prison for a while and then they can all go home. Think of your men and your men’s families.”

"My father is not a traitor,” Von Struck insisted.

"That is not for me to decide." He stepped back and addressed the squad. "You men, put down your weapons. Standartenführer Von Struck has already agreed. You will all come with us to Dachau until they see that you are innocent,
then
you’ll all return to your units. No harm will come to you, I promise.”

"No, we’ll go as soldiers with our weapons, or not at all,” Grand announced.

"Damn right!” Nau echoed, cocking his machine gun. The squad chambered a round as one and faced the two ranks with weapons poised.

Von Struck turned around to face them. "Give them up. We’ll do as he says and you’ll all be out by Christmas.”

However, nobody moved and the moment spanned out into a stand-off.

He tried again
.
"Henning, Michael, please give them up. It’s out of our hands now and at least this way we can all go home.”

A slight pause followed before Henning slowly placed his weapon on the floor and lifted his hands. Von Struck breathed a sigh of quiet relief as one by one they followed the Oberscharführer’s example.

Only Muschinski held his rifle at the ready. His face a granite mask of rage and confusion, he stood rock still with his weapon pointed at the nearest guard.

"Let it go, Muschi
,”
R
ohleder whispered loudly. "The b
oss said it’ll be alright.”

"No!" he shouted, making everyone jump in the stillness. "These fuckers don’t know what we’ve been through these last months, what we’ve done. They think we’re the criminals and we’re bloody not, we’re heroes! We’re the good guys.”

"Muschinski, SS Sturmann Muschinski!" Von Struck shouted. "Put
that weapon down now!”

"No sir, I can’t do it," he answered, angling his head slightly towards his superior officer.

A single shot exploded in the silence and Muschinski crumpled to floor. Rohleder gasped in horror as the bullet took the upper half of his friend’s head off, splattering him with blood, bone and brain.

Schmidt barked his orders to the waiting soldiers and the squad was manhandled away to the trucks that had just arrived.

Von Struck, the last one to leave, turned to Schmidt. "No harm, you said. You gave your word. There was no need to kill him, you bastard.”

"If he had obeyed your orders, he would be alive now. Anyway, do you think I really need to keep my word to the son of a traitor? Wake up, Von
Struck,
the war is over for you and with it
,
perhaps your life.”

The two guards on either arm jerked him away to the truck and Von Struck let himself be led without any commotion.

Stephanie was the last of the group to be dealt with. She stood among the horses looking small and afraid.

"And who might you be, child?” Schmidt leered. She caught the hunger in his tone and involuntarily covered herself with her shawl.

"Stephanie Raabe, ex of Pfatter near Regensburg.
My husband, Herr Wolfgang Raabe, was killed by Communist Partisans. My son, Paul Raabe, was killed by vampires. We were given a farm to work in Lemberg in the Ukraine but were forced to leave due to the Russian advance. I’m the only one left of our family. The rest were all killed by either Russians or vampires. The Standartenführer and his men saved me from the vampires.”

"Most gallant of them, and what did you do to thank them for their deed?" He licked his lips and reached an arm out to play with her hair. She took a step back and Schmidt raised an irritated eyebrow.

Rasch, who had all the time stood in the background and said nothing, saw that it was time to step in. "Herr Major, may I remind you that this is a civilian and that you have no jurisdiction over this woman. She can stay here and earn her keep in the kitchens which are now so woefully undermanned thanks to your entourage. Come here, child.” Schmidt looked on, sour faced and impotent, as she walked past him. She stood behind Rasch who attempted one of his ghastly encouraging smiles on her.

Emboldened by his small triumph, the doctor gave some more orders to the guards
.
"Right, you men, see to it that these horses are taken away and wiped down before they catch somethin
g.
You.”
He turned to Stephanie. “C
ome with me. I’ll show you where the kitchens are.”

Schmidt turned to his second in command. "Come, Meier, let’s get this rabble to Dachau.”

Chapter 37

Berlin

For the fifth time inside of an hour, the tall SS officer showed his identity documents. He was tired and getting impatient with the upgraded security arrangements that had been put in place since the bomb attack at the Wolfschanze.

Finally he arrived at the Reichsführer’s office. He pondered briefly on what he wanted to say. His position gave him a lot of leeway with Himmler but he didn’t want to push it. He decided it was all or nothing just as the secretary opened the door for him to go in.

Himmler was behind his desk but he stood up and walked around to greet him.
"Ah, von der Heyde, or should I say Oberstgruppenführer von der Heyde?
How is your new rank? Does it sit well?" He took his hand and shook it as hard as his effeminate grip would allow.

"The pay is a lot better
." H
e smiled in response and took his hand back.

"Come now, y
our family has no need of money.
” Himmler laughed before turning serious at the flick of a switch. "Tell me what I want to hear. What is happening in Romania?”

Von der Heyde took a seat, sat back and crossed one leg over the other
.
"Exactly.
That is the reason for my coming here, Herr Reichsführer. We need to speed our plans up there. If we carry on with that idiot Rasch running the show, the Russians will be knocking on our door before we can set everything in motion.”

Himmler steepled his fingers as if in deep cont
emplation.
"Rasch came to me on your recommendation. It was you who pushed him forward. Now you say he’s an idiot. I don’t understand.”

Von der Heyde uncrossed his legs and sat forward. "At that time, Herr Reichsführer, I was of the opinion that we could only affect the change we need with scientific methods. I was wrong and I admit it. It would be wrong of me to prolong his work just to cover my own back.”

"Very noble of you.
Carry on, I’m listening.”

"I’ve come across some ancient writings and these writings suggest that the vampire soldiers can influence their own destiny by the use of ancient rituals.” He sat back again and waited for Himmler’s comment.

"If they can do this, why are we waiting? Give them what they need and tell them to get on with it.”

"The problem is that they can only perform this ritual in December and that we have one of the key figures in the ritual incarcerated at Dachau. I need to get him out of there and take him back to Transylvania.”

Himmler nodded his understanding of the problem
.
"But if it can only
be performed in December, why take him out now? Let him stay there a while so that he’s more compliant to our demands. We’ll take him out just before Christmas, send him down and they can do their ritual.”

"Herr Reichsführer, it’s not as easy as that. He’ll have to learn texts, and for that to happen, he’ll have to want to learn the texts. If we keep him where he is, he’ll not be very sympathetic to our cause
…”
He let Himmler finish the rest in his head.

"Oh, what the hell, take him out, spoil him and sort it out from there. Rasch can carry on until you are ready. Who knows, he might stumble on something. I want to know as soon as anything happens, do you hear me?”

"Of course, as soon as anything happens, I’ll be in contact.” He sto
od up and saluted.

"Sieg Heil, Herr Reichsführer!”

"Sieg Heil, my friend."
Himmler smiled and stood up once more to shake von der Heyde’s hand in farewell. "Keep me informed. Ivan is getting stronger every day and we need that army
to bring us victory in the East.
"

"Jawohl, Herr Reichsführer."

Part 3

Ten soldiers wisely led will beat a hundred without a head.

Euripides

We are twice armed if we fight with faith.

Plato

Chapter 38

Dachau

Two weeks later

Inselman
dropped the bombshell as casually as a man speaking about the weather
.
"You’ll be receiving a guest today, and if all goes well, it could mean your release."

Smith looked up from his chair in utter disbelief.
"Who?”

"Put it like this, he’s very high up. Apparently he’s on first name terms with Himmler, so that puts him in a different social echelon to the rest
of the minions here, the camp c
ommandant included. I think it’s probably something to do with your Romanian connections."

Smith shook his head in disbelief. He still didn’t think of himself as being Romanian. He was British and that was final, even at the cost of having to stay incarcerated. Transylvania seemed like a million miles away.

"When is he coming, do you know?”

Inselman nodded
.
"Today.
Make yourself presentable. He’ll be here at four.”

"Four, right.”

Smith walked to his window and looked into the yard where the SS inmates were doing sport. The NCO in charge was beating them indiscriminately with a large cane as they ran sprints from wall to wall.

"It’s a bloody poor system where the sadists and the cowards get to run the show," he stated absently to no
one in particular. He’d listened to the SS inmates being put through their paces all morning and wondered at a society that could punish its own so brutally.

"It starts from the top.
” Inselman nodded sagely
.
"
T
he people in government, and rolls down from there.
However, the
g
eneral who’s coming to see you is not in that mould, I can assure you. Be ready for four sharp. I’ll come and collect you then.”

Smith nodded as he left and turned to watch the NCO thrashing one of his hapless charges. One of the soldiers caught his eye. He wasn’t sure but it looked like the officer who’d accompanied him to the camp. Squinting to see better, he peered through the barred window until he was certain it was him. "What the hell is he doing here?" he pondered.

*  *  *

Von Struck looked on in impotent rage as the NCO whipped Grand with his cane. Every day was the same: beatings, humiliations and cruelty for cruelty’s sake. He’d made up his mind as to what th
ey should
do on the first day
—
escape. Henning and Rohleder were of the same opinion. If Ivan really was advancing as fast as they’d heard, and if the Allies really had landed at Normandy and were making headway into Europe, what was the point of waiting here to be caught? If the Russians arrived first, they’d be shot on sight anyway, so escape made perfect sense.

Oberscharführer Müller had given his NCOs a free rein with Von Struck’s squad, to do with them as they pleased, and this invariably involved torture and pain. He stayed away, preferring to let his men do the dirty work for him. The rumour was that he had overstepped the mark and was laying low for a while.

Today, watched over by a crowd of jeering, machine-gun toting guards, they had run sprints in the yard. The man who had come last more than ten times was being punished as they all stood to attention. This was, as always, Berndt Grand, owing to his wounded leg, a reminder of the journey from Transylvania. They couldn’t even run to his pace as the NCO in charge insisted on beating them as they ran. Berndt was physically and mentally a giant. He took every beating with granite imperviousness
,
silent and indestructible. Nevertheless, it still chilled the blood to have to witness every thrashing he was given. Von Struck wondered how long he could take the beatings before he broke.