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From: Troubador <llywarch_hen@btinternet.com>
Subject: ST: From Defeat, Chapter 07 (M/t, hist)
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Chapter Seven










After his furlough Karl returned to his duties and for want of anything better to do with his time Jurgen accompanied him, helping out around camp as best he could, working with Karl's lads and assisting them with their day to day duties where he was able. 




He quickly joined in their early morning P.T. sessions, too, drawing many envious glances as he stripped off his shirt to display his remarkable abdominal development. When he stripped off to hit the showers with them at the end of a session Karl often found it necessary to avert his gaze as Jurgen walked into the showers as some of his men might wonder why he was getting a woody watching a fifteen-year-old showering.




As the year dragged from spring into summer so Jurgen continued to develop and grow; the rich, plentiful food and the regular exercises were helping him to develop in ways Karl wouldn't have imagined. He regularly outgrew the clothes Karl bought for him and so Karl had fallen back on the expediency they'd used in the early days and Jurgen was a regular visitor to the Q.M.'s stores looking for uniform items which were easily obtainable and could be traded in for other larger items as Jurgen's frame continued to fill out.




As nineteen forty six turned into 'forty seven so Karl watched Jurgen's continuing development, in both personality and physique. Often during the summer of that year as he sat in his office engaged with the paper work and activity dictated by his rank and job so he watched as some of the younger soldiers in his section started teaching Jurgen the basics of basketball and baseball. He watched through the window as sometimes Jurgen took a tumble after attempting something a little to advanced for his skill level and Karl found himself starting out of his seat only to slump back as Jurgen rolled over and picked himself up; examined a graze or a cut and then went straight back into the game he was playing.




In his turn Jurgen would try to teach Karl's lads the basics of European soccer but apart from the odd lad who'd participate in a quick, informal kick around, unfortunately, none of them seemed to meet with as much success in this activity as Jurgen's own study and practice of American sport. This didn't seem to meet with any objection on Jurgen's part, however, because there were few people around the local area playing the European form of football.




Wherever they were on Camp, Karl kept a weather eye on Jurgen but as the year progressed so he found it less needful as Jurgen fast became a camp favourite. Karl often felt a pang of jealousy as he watched Jurgen relaxing, sunbathing with the younger soldiers on Camp, lads who were closer to his own age group. Karl's jealousy though was driven by the understanding he may soon have to make arrangements for Jurgen to live in a local hostel for war-orphans as the local government organisations were beginning to pick up the slack left by the collapse of such organisations as the Nazi's had supported toward the end of the war.













One day, late in the summer of '47 Karl found a small memo on his office desk, a telephone message from the Colonel's office requesting he present himself to the Colonel before the end of the day. Having no pressing duties to attend to, Karl returned to the Mess, spruced up and changed into his number one's before making his way to the Colonel's office at Regimental Head Quarters.




"Sergeant Levinson, reporting as ordered, Sir!"




"Ah, Karl, come in, take a seat! How are things with young Jurgen? I've noticed he's been developing quite rapidly. I hardly recognise him these days. I notice he's become quite popular on camp. He's adjusting well?"




"He's doing fine, sir. Occasionally something happens to remind him of his past, he gets a little morose and then sheds a few tears but quickly pulls himself back to his feet and gets on with his life."




"Karl. I've recently received an instruction concerning non-military personnel living on camps across Germany. Apparently, circumstances similar to your own have been allowed to flourish following the confusion of the surrender and the collapse of civil authority. This instruction informs Commanders such as myself there is now sufficient, competent civil authority in place so orphaned children can be offered places to live. 

"I'll do you the honour of being honest with you now; I'm not blind to the fact there is some thing more than friendship going on between you and Jurgen. I can't say as I approve but you've both been discrete about it. I'm take into account the fact you've less than a year left in-service and you're one of my more valued N.C.O.'s, and I don't feel I can manage without you just yet so I'm not going to charge you with anything.

"On another tack, I'm told the Sergeants Mess is getting rather crowded?"




"Uh, yes, sir! With the camps expansion we've doubled the number of sergeants, until the new building is completed newly arriving N.C.O.'s are sharing rooms and some of the longer term residents are now being asked to double up as well. I've not been asked myself as I'm already double bunking."




"All right. You remember last year when you first requested permission to lodge Jurgen at your room in the Mess, I told you I'd received an instruction which might allow me some lee-way?"




Karl nodded absently as he tried to absorb the fact the Colonel was aware of the depth of Karl's relationship with Jurgen.




" Well, it's taken a while to iron out the kinks in what was a rather incomplete instruction. I'm now going in a position to exercise the scope of this instruction. The document allows for a Commanding Officer at the local level to lodge members of the his force at local hotels to free up on-camp accommodations. 

"The instructions is a part of a raft of measures which seek to regenerate the local economy by regularly injecting military funds and is supposed to improve morale for our troops. Now, obviously, this instruction will only apply to senior N.C.O.'s such as yourself, not to the general enlisted population. Do you think Jurgen would be able to adjust to living off camp."




"I believe so, Sir. Might I ask why you choose to take no action against me?"




The Colonel looked at Karl carefully before answering.




"My son lives with a male 'friend' in the States; when he first told me about their relationship I went a little overboard and threw him out of the house and told him I didn't want top see him again. I came to the realisation I love my son dearly and though I may disapprove of his relationship on one level it's not enough to make cut him out of my life altogether and so I made attempts to reconcile our differences. He made it clear to me that any reconciliation would have to include his partner and so I took the time to get to know him and I find I enjoy his company when they come over, I believe getting to know him and seeing the both of them together has made me a little more tolerant of such differences. 

"I've watched Jurgen grow over the past twelve months from a frightened lad who used to cling to you into a mature, well adjusted young man whose happy to kick around the camp with our lads while your on duty; I'd like to see the two of you have a chance to succeed."













For the last nine months of his enlistment Karl and Jurgen shared a room at a little hotel a few minutes walk from the Camp. When they'd first arrived the hotel owner had assumed they were together and had provided a room with a double bed and had made no comment or observation about unusual nature of the arrangement; probably he was looking at the regular nature of the pay check he was receiving from Uncle Sam. As the hotel owner was willing to accept the situation without comment so Karl accepted the situation without demur or complaint and so, he and Jurgen were able to share a proper double bed for the first time.




However, debunking for the camp into town caused their first major argument when Karl learned of a local school being re-opened close by and he announced to Jurgen he would have to attend. Jurgen had argued and shouted, even threatened to stop Karl from fucking him but in the end it was to no avail and for the first time in three years, Jurgen found himself sitting at a desk in a regular school room as the teachers assessed his abilities.










Karl's concerns over Jurgen's future, however, continued as he patiently awaited news from his granduncle concerning Karl's plans for Jurgen's future. As often as he was able Karl phoned his granduncle only to be met with the same stoic story, 'have patience, young man, the wheels are in motion' or 'the wheels of government turn slowly'. The thought of leaving Germany within a few months without having anything concrete to give Jurgen hope created a special hell for Karl and as they lay in bed at night he knew Jurgen was worried, too. Jurgen knew Karl's posting was almost up and he was about to return to the States probably leaving Jurgen behind to try and build a life alone, without Karl, which made him both sad and angry.




A week before having to collect his travel orders Karl began to out-process by handing over his duty station to his successor, as he briefed the newcomer on personnel issues in the section so he received orders to report to Colonel Maddox's office. The Colonel's office was open and he waved Karl inside, Karl took the opportunity to hand over his Camp passes and security keys to the Colonel's Orderly so he could complete his out processing.




"Ah! Karl! Come in, I have news about Jurgen!" the old man was smiling broadly.




"Sir?"




"I've just received a package from our Embassy in London with regards to your young man's future."




"I'm not sure I understand, Sir? Why should our Embassy in London be interested?"




"Well, I think congratulations are in order, Sergeant. To be honest with you I don't know who you know or what strings you've been able to pull to get this but you need to get your young man in this office no later than three o'clock on this afternoon. I've received a package containing papers, an I.D. Card, a social security number, a naturalization certificate and even adoption papers. I'm not sure I approve of that last one considering the nature of your relationship with him but I guess I can understand your need to cover the bases, just in case. Karl? Are you OK?"




"Yes, Sir!" Karl's sight grew hazy as tears formed in his eyes, "I'm sorry! I've been worried lately as the deadline approached; I was beginning to think I was going to have to leave him behind and he has no one here."




"Karl! Have him here at fifteen hundred hours and remember to bring two witnesses with you!"










Karl walked into town and waited at the school gates to accompany Jurgen back to the hotel and as they walked back he told Jurgen they had to go to camp as the colonel wanted to say his goodbyes in person.




When they got to the Colonel's office it was to Corporals Andy Jenson and Anthony Donatello waiting for them and for the umpteenth time since Karl told him about the meeting Jurgen again began to question Karl.




"Karl! I don't understand! Why does the Colonel want to see me? We've only met three times."




"You may have only met him three times but he commands this camp and he's kept himself appraised of your progress over the past two years. He has some things he'd like to say to you.

Jurgen, just do as he tells you and you'll be all right!"




"Why are Andy and Donny here? Are they in trouble."




"Will you stop asking so many bloody questions! Just relax and wait a few minutes and all your questions will be answered."




The door to the Colonel's office opened and his orderly clerk exited, announcing they were all free to enter and as they did so they found the Colonel standing to pull on his jacket.




"Ah... Jurgen! Please come over here and stand by the flag, lad, and repeat these words as I say them them to you... 'I hereby declare, on oath, that....'."




After the oath had been administered, Jurgen turned a puzzled face toward the Colonel as the old man embraced him in a rare display of emotion. The Colonel then released Jurgen and held out his hand, the lad shook it, tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders at Karl to ask what was going on. 




"Jurgen," the Colonel said, "you are now a citizen of the United States of America, with all the rights and privileges that pertain unto that state so mind you don't let me down now young man. All your papers and certificates are in that package and are all made out in your German family name, I don't know whether your new adopted father will want you to use his name?"




Jurgen turned to look at Karl in shock, "Father?"




"It was the only way my granduncle was able to make sure all of this could go through without a hitch, the adoption certificate guarantees everything else."




Jurgen threw his arms around Karl murmuring in German and, as he cried into Karl's shoulder, so Karl ruffled his hair and whispered in his ear. Karl looked over and was surprised to see tears on the Colonel's face and Andy and Donny where a little misty eyed, too, as they each congratulated Jurgen on his good fortune and his now assured future. Karl lowered his head so his mouth was very close to Jurgen's as he whispered so softly only Jurgen could hear.




"This doesn't change anything between you and me. I still want you in my bed. Do you understand?"




"Yes, father!" Jurgen whispered back.




Karl held him tight and as they both rocked back and forth there in the Colonel's office the last vestiges of worry drained from them both, Karl continued to whisper in to Jurgen's ear until the Colonel coughed to subtly remind them it was time to take things elsewhere.










After the ceremony the four returned to the Sergeants Mess where Andy and Donny were able to convince the cooks to rustle some fare befitting a celebration of Jurgen's good fortune and Karl relaxed his control on Jurgen's drinking beer and allowed him a few bottles so he could celebrate.




Later in the evening after they'd returned to the hotel Karl emptied the bulky document folder onto the table and explained to Jurgen what each piece of paper and each card meant to his future.




"I have something else to show you, too." Karl smiled, "My travel orders! Do you notice I'm now listed as travelling with one dependant, teenaged son!"




"Thank you!" Jurgen's tears were rolling down his cheeks again, "I'll never be able to thank you enough for everything you do for me."




"I told you I'd never leave you here alone; admittedly my granduncle took this a bit close to the wire but, boy, has he come through for us. When you meet him make sure you say thanks!"




"I will! So am I to be Jurgen Levinson now?"




"No. I thought you'd prefer to keep your parents name. You lost so much in the war I didn't think you'd want you to lose that, too."




"Thank you. I'd like to keep their name; I did love them you know, they may not have been my staunchest defenders but they did try."




They sat on the edge of the bed and Karl held Jurgen close lightly stroking his face, feeling the prickles of his stubble beginning to form.




"Oh, ho, I can see I'm going to have to teach someone to shave fairly soon."




"Yeah! I'm not that skinny, snotty-nosed, fifteen year old any more; I'll be seventeen soon!"




"Don't I know it," Karl laughed, "and, hopefully, we'll celebrate your birthday in style, in our own home, in America."




"How will we get there? By ship?"




"No. We'll be flying from Templhof to Mildenhall in England. From there we'll fly over the Atlantic, stopping in Iceland to refuel. It should be a little more comfortable than my ride over; I came by troopship, heading to England for the Invasion, thousands of us crammed into a leaky steel can, constantly shitting ourselves worried about U-boats."




"I've never been on air-plane before!" Jurgen grinned.




"Join the club!" Karl pulled him closer, "Neither have I; so we're in that one together. You're going to have to pack; I'll go down the Q.M.'s later and get you two kit bags."


"Well, I don't really have much but there's my army back-pack to take care off, I'm not sure they'll let me take it all with me. There's my old Jugend uniform in there along with all the insignia I stripped off it, there are a few keepsakes I rescued from the house and one or two souvenirs but, Karl, there's a couple of things in there which they definitely wont allow me to take."




"Oh? You sound so sure about that. May I see?" Karl had never sought to open the back pack, he knew the memories it contained where painful and traumatic and where Jurgen's alone. He knew Jurgen would share them when he was ready.










Jurgen unstrapped the blanket from the top of the pack before undoing the straps which held the top cover closed. First out was the faded black uniform, the back still stiff with blood from where he'd been shot but at some time in the past two years Jurgen had reattached the missing insignia and two medals ribbons.




"You never told me you'd been awarded medals." Karl exclaimed, smiling proudly.




"I haven't really wanted to think about that time, I wanted to concentrate on being with you."




"You know something? I've forgotten how handsome you looked wearing that," Karl grinned, "I wish I'd taken a photo of you wearing it with the insignia and the medals."




Jurgen carefully unfolded the little jacket and trousers and held them up to his broadening frame as and smiled ruefully at Karl.




"It's seems a little small now," he smiled, "I'm not the under-fed fifteen year old I used to be, I don't think it'll fit!"




Next, he extracted a bundle of red material, tied about with string. As Jurgen undid the string and unwound the bundled material so Karl found himself looking at a red flag with a blood stained white circle and a Nazi Swastika complete with bullet holes; contained within the bundle were two leather side-arm holsters containing two officers Lugers.




"Whao! Whao! Whao! What the hell are those?"




"Protection! It was lawless back there; you think what those two Russians did to you and then think what it was like for a fourteen year old lad living alone on those streets. I fired them a few times, although I had to be careful as shots in the day time would bring the Russians running! They'd stay close to their barracks at night, though, the streets were far to dangerous for them."




"I'm not bloody surprised with fourteen year old lads running around toting guns! Do you have ammunition for them?"




"Oh, yes," Jurgen said matter of factly, nodding his head sagely, "there's about sixty rounds in the side pockets."




"Oh, Hell!" Karl whispered, a little shocked. "Know I understand why that bloody pack was so heavy! I can't believe you lugged all that on our mad dash across 'no-man's land'! You got any more secrets stashed in there."




Jurgen smiled knowingly; the next thing he pulled out was a small wooden box and he started shaking as he held it.




"What's that?" Karl asked gently.




"My mother's jewellery," he shook his head, "I thought my father had sold it after she disappeared but I found it, on a shelf hidden in the cellar, I don't feel like looking in there just yet. The woman who died at the house with my father was his second wife, my mother disappeared when I was very young but he wouldn't ever tell me what happened to her."




Karl took the box from Jurgen hands, treating it with due reverence and gently placed it to one side. 




Next Jurgen pulled out a small, dented metal box containing a small wooden horse, some soldier figures and some other childhood knick-knacks. 




"All I could find from my room."




Jurgen continued to pull out small bits and pieces, shrapnel, bullet casings, one or two dog-tags from friends who'd fallen in battle, he said. Some smaller flags and pennants, two Iron Cross' one Imperial and one Nazi.




"The Imperial Cross is my grand-father's from the first war; the Nazi one was Hans' it was sent to his mother from the Eastern Front. She said she didn't want to remember him because of what he been caught doing with Kurt so she gave it to me. She said I was all Hans ever talked about when he was at home anyway.




"Anything else?"




Jurgen shook his head as he sadly surveyed his collection, "No, that's all, it's not really a lot to remember my life by is it."




"You've a lot more of your life ahead of you yet, plenty of time to collect things. For the purposes of travelling I shall have to declare the pistols as my property and ship them as contraband souvenirs and when we get state-side I'll apply for a license to keep them in my name. When you're old enough and you still want to keep them then you can apply for a fire-arms licence and then keep them in your own name."




Jurgen nodded to indicate he would want them back. 




"The one with the sliver eagles inlaid on the wooden side panels was given to me by Herr Doctor Bauer, my troop leader. He was killed near the Reich Chancellery building in the final days, as he lay dying he pushed it into my hand saying he'd rather I have it than some Russian.

"The other one you can have if you want to keep a souvenir of the war for yourself; I robbed that one off the body of an SS Obersturmbannfuhrer laying in the street along with the extra ammunition!"




"Good God, Jurgen! When I think I've got to know you, you pull memories like this out of the hat! Come here, lad."




Karl stood behind the seat on which Jurgen was sitting and placed his hand on his "son's" shoulder, Jurgen turned his head and softly kissed the back of Karl's hand before softly rubbing it with his cheek and almost silently whispered "Thank you!"




"I've been reading the travel papers; we can each ship a small piece of hand luggage in the cabin with us. I think you should ship it like that so you can keep it safe. Are you all right?"




"Yes." Jurgen whispered, shaking a little with the depth of his emotions, "There's lots more memories like that to come yet."




"Just promise me one thing. You wont start talking about things like this in front of my family. My parents and grandparents are Orthodox Jews, they wouldn't understand. They have enough problems with me, my private sexual practices and my joining the Army; without you talking about robbing fire-arms off corpses you tripped over in the street."




"I did not trip over him, I'm not that clumsy. I jumped over him and then I went back for the pistol when I realised he was SS, the weapons are specially marked. Very valuable!"




"Sweet Mercy! You definitely will not mention the SS to my family," Karl whispered.




"At this rate I'm not going to have anything interesting to talk them about, perhaps I should just sit there like a mute!!"




"Oooh, that's an idea! I'll them you're a mute! Tell them something happened to you in the war and you cant speak! Definite advantages there!"




Jurgen looked startled at him before realising Karl was teasing him, he stood and looked into Karl's eyes and smiled, "Don't worry, I wont embarrass you to your family."




"Come on, lets pack these things away carefully, but leave the pistols toward the top. I'll get something from the Q.M. To ship them in. Please hide the flag and your uniform out of sight in the bottom of the pack. I don't think there'll be any objections but let's not take the chance."
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