Fogbound Encounter 8


By Katzmarek


The little party of Germans and Scots and one Englishwoman waited expectantly as the train from Glasgow 
pulled into the little station at Galston. The little, blue, Caledonian ‘single driver’ disappeared in a cloud of 
steam as it got to the end of the branch line. There were much blasting of whistles and banging of carriage 
doors as the passengers began to alight.


Virtually all of the train’s passengers were in uniform, a replacement draft for the camp guards. A very few 
were returning soldiers and sailors, a very few indeed.


A couple of soldiers were assisting and elderly woman of about 70 with her bags. She was berating them in 
German.


“Omi!” Kimi yelled as he ran up to her.


“(Ger) Tell these brutes I can get down by myself. I’m not an invalid,” Kimi’s grandmother replied.


Kimi smiled at the soldiers and thanked them for their assistance.


“(Ger) You’re as skinny as ever,” she said, “aren’t the English feeding you?”


“(Ger) Very well Omi. How was the journey?”


“(Ger) Long, and soldiers everywhere. Every town’s full of soldiers. The ship bounced up and down and it 
was full of Dutchmen. They spit at you when they talk. Strange language the Dutch.”


Two German prisoners moved forward to assist the old woman with her luggage. Kimi made the 
introductions.


“(Ger) This is Bruno Lody from Heidelburg and Herman Schoemann from Kiel.”


The two men gave her a stiff bow. Omi Kasemann’s demeanour changed.


“(Ger) Ah, two gentlemen at last. I hope it won’t be long before you can return home. Your families will 
need your strong backs. Things are very grim there.  So! Kimi, are you going to show me this 
Englishwoman of yours, is she here?”


Kimi brought Eliza forward and presented her to his Grandmother.


“(Ger) This is Eliza, Omi, my fiancée.”


Eliza was very nervous of the old woman. She desperately wanted to get the seal of approval from Kimi’s 
closest surviving relative.


Putting a hand on each side of Eliza’s face she said,


“(Ger) C’mon, let’s have a look at you. She’s very pale, Kimi, and skinny like your mother. Are you sure 
she’s not ill?”


“(Ger) She’s fine and healthy, Omi. Isn’t she pretty?”


“(Ger) Clearly you think so. She’s too young, Kimi. Give her another 5 years, 6 maybe…”


Eliza looked from Omi Kasemann to her future husband in confusion. She tried to interpret their 
expressions to get an idea of the conversation.


“I’m am happy to meet you at last,” she told the woman in a deliberate way. Kimi started to interpret for 
her.


“Kimi!” said his grandmother, “I… to… meet you… happy also. (Ger) See Kimi I have a German/English 
dictionary. I read it carefully on the ship coming over. This English, it is not so hard to understand. If I’m to 
have English great grandchildren I will need to study up.”


“(Ger) So you approve of our wedding?” Kimi asked excitedly


“(Ger) No, of course not. But it never stopped your father and I doubt it’d stop you. You have too much of 
your father in you.”


“Kimi,” Eliza said, “what is she saying?”


“She says she likes you and approves of our wedding,” he told her.


Eliza threw her arms around Kimi and kissed him.


“(Ger) Kimi! Not in public! You are not married yet. What did you tell her?”


“(Ger) That you are the sweetest grandmother anyone could have, of course.”


“(Ger) Liar! I’m not so old I can’t put you over my knee,” she said, a momentary grin flicked over her face.


Jock was standing by the gig as they came out of the station gate. Kimi gestured to him and said,


“(Ger) This is my friend, Warrant Officer Smyth.”


“(Ger) More soldiers! Ach. Goodness, this one’s big, an Officer you say?”


“Obergefreiter,” 


“(Ger) Oh, I see. You must tell me who the Officers are, Kimi. I hope you are showing respect to them. 
You must always give an Officer his due, Kimi…” his grandmother went on.


Mrs. Kasemann talked all the way into the village with hardly a pause. Kimi looked embarrassed so Jock 
spoke up,


“Tell your grandmother we’re sorry to hear of the death off her son.” Kimi passed it on.


She tipped her head towards the WO and said,


“Thank… you.” She replied in English. “(Ger) Kimi, have you told him that your father was a hero. As his 
ship was going under they torpedoed and sank an English Battleship.”


“(Ger) They say it was the Marlborough, Omi, and it did not sink.”


“(Ger) They lie to you, Kimi. Everyone knows half the English were sunk at the ‘Skaggeraksieg’.” 
(Skaggerak Victory)


“(Ger) They call the battle, Jutland, Omi, and they say they won it.”


“(Ger) The English can say what they like. Your cousin Johan was there, on the ‘Derflinger,’ and he said 
their ships were blowing up everywhere. He said he hit the ‘Invincible’ with his own turret. They gave him 
a medal for it. They got the honours, y’know, shared with the ‘Von der Tann.’ They won it? Never!”


“Kimi, what is your grandmother saying?” asked Jock.


“She told me she’s likes Galston and is glad to be here.”


“You Germans have a long-winded way of saying things,” Jock said, shaking his head.


Omi Kasemann began referring to Herman and Bruno as her ‘boys’, and it was some time before she 
allowed them to head back to camp.


They had to shift the cot in the Smyth’s spare room away from the window, fetch and carry things for her 
and generally make a fuss. Jean Smyth bridled at her dominating manner.


“I think we have a cuckoo in the nest,” she told Jock, “I’m not sure how long I can put up with her. She’d 
rearrange the whole cottage if she had the strength.”


“She won’t be here too long.”


“Aye, she’s too ‘Prussian’ for my liking and I can’t understand a word she says. She could be calling me a 
witch for all I know.”


“Maybe,” Jock considered, “she’d be partial to a little toddy?”


Mrs. Smyth dug her husband in the ribs,


“Now Jock, I wouldn’t want to kill the old battleaxe,” she said.


The wedding had become known as ‘the German Wedding’ and had caused a few divisions in the village. 
Although most people liked Kimi, the war was too fresh in most people’s minds. A good number of POW’s 
would be there and that was more than many of the villagers could stand.


On the morning of the ceremony, Kimi dressed at the camp under the administration of Gefreiter Gerry 
Klein, a tailor in civilian life. Kimi’s best man was to be Bruno Lody who, for the occasion, had assembled 
most of the dress uniform of a U-boat man. Most of the German guests had gathered some kind of uniform. 
Someone suggested that this was to be the final operation of the old Imperial Navy.


Kimi was escorted in a solemn procession from the camp to the church. He rode in a gig followed by an 
honour guard of the Kaiser’s Navy. Kimi felt very embarrassed by it all. At least no one produced a 
German flag.


At the church, the Germans filed past the knot of curious onlookers into the church and were directed to the 
groom’s side. At the front of the aisle, Omi Kasemann was holding court. She reminded Kimi of one those 
portraits of Queen Victoria.


Across the aisle Eliza’s mother dabbed her eyes and looked a little bewildered. Newly arrived from Norway 
she and her husband had only a few days to meet everybody.


The wedding march played, as her father escorted Eliza down the aisle. He was dimly aware of the hushed 
comments from the crowd and Jock Smyth at the back closing the doors behind them. Kimi swayed slightly 
and his mind was a little fogged. Back at the camp he’d been given a potent draft of homemade schnapps, 
‘to stiffen his resolve.’


Eliza looked beautiful, he thought, in her ‘broiderie anglais’ gown. At her buttoned up neck glittered a 
silver broach, a present from her parents.


Somehow Kimi got through the service without fumbling. He even said ‘I do’ confidently, feeling the calm 
presence of Bruno by his elbow.


The party spilled out next door, to the church hall. That is, after the obligatory photo on the steps. A 
generous supper had been laid out on long tables and the newly weds were ushered to the top table. Omi 
Kasemann was seated on Kimi’s other side, still with her ‘boys’ hovering nearby.


Speeches were given in both languages. Bruno had a fair command of English and managed tolerably well. 
After the official toast Mrs. Kasemann rose to speak, the room hushed.


“I… want… wish… my grandson and his… bride well,” she said in a rehearsed fashion. “I wish… his 
father was here… he would this very much like. I speak… for him… at the wedding of his son. Hard it is 
for me… my only grandson… he will live in Danzig not… but among …auslanderen; Englische?” she 
asked, leaning towards Bruno.


“Foreigners,” he answered.


“Ja, foreigners… is very hard for me. But you, my Kimi look after good, dankeschon… I sit, now.”


The guest gave the old woman a round of applause.


Eliza leaned towards her husband,


“You’ve been drinking, I can smell it.”


“Just a little,” he answered.


Kimi and Eliza were escorted to their cottage by a piper. Following them a boisterous crowd of revelers 
followed, occasionally shouting out some ribald remark.


When they reached their door an improvised choir of POW’s insisted on singing a song for them. Naturally 
it was a song of the sea. A farewell to the fishing boats setting out into the Baltic or the North Sea, a song 
of hope for a successful voyage and a safe return. 


Jock and Bruno mustered their respective countrymen and led them away from the Kasemanns. A few 
wanted to stay and offer the newly weds some more advice and it took a little shoving to dissuade them.


“On your bike you drunken bastard,” Kimi heard Jock tell someone.


“Come on, your ship is pulling out,” said Bruno in German.


Inside the little cottage a fire had been lit. Candles had been placed around the sitting room and a bottle of 
Champagne was on a table beside the two-seater.


Eliza disappeared into their bedroom to change from her wedding dress. Kimi took off his jacket and 
loosened his shirt.


When Eliza returned she was wearing a dressing gown, tied around the waist with a cord. Meanwhile, Kimi 
had filled two glasses with the Champagne.


Eliza sat next to Kimi and accepted the drink. For a while they gazed into the fire. Eventually Kimi asked 
his wife,


“Are you happy?” Eliza nodded.


“I’m sorry,” she said, “I just feel a bit strange… a bit nervous. I’m not sure what to do.”


“You don’t?” asked Kimi, putting an arm over her shoulders.


“Not that… I know what you’re thinking,” she giggled. “It’s just that… you build yourself up for this 
moment… I mean your whole life… and now it’s arrived… I… I just want it to be… special. I don’t want 
to disappoint you, Kimi,” Eliza told him.


In response, Kimi leaned in and kissed her, gently at first. He brushed across her lips and nibbled around 
her jaw to her ear. From her ear he descended down the side of her neck. Eliza put her hand up and ran it 
through his hair.


“You look so beautiful in the firelight,” he told her, “you could never disappoint me.”


“Oh Kimi!” she replied, I love you.”


Kimi stood up and pulled Eliza up from the settee. 


“Let’s go to bed,” he said.


They walked into the bedroom to find it had been lit with candles also. The freshly made bed had been 
turned back. A single red rose lay on the pillow.


“See,” said Kimi, “ someone’s gone to a lot of trouble for us.”


They stood by the bed and kissed. As Eliza caressed her husband, Kimi slowly untied the cord of her 
dressing gown. Pulling the gown off her shoulders he found she was wearing a shimmering satin nightie.


Eliza undid the buttons of Kimi’s shirt and he shrugged it off. She ran her hands over his bare chest. Kimi 
undid his belt and fly buttons and shyly dropped his trousers. He sat on the bed to shed his socks and shoes.


Uncertainly, Eliza climbed into the bed. Standing up Kimi took down his underpants. Eliza blushed when 
his stiff cock came into view. Kimi quickly jumped into bed beside her.


As they kissed, Eliza whole body began to tingle, especially her pussy. It scared her a little and excited her 
at the same time that, at last, she would be taking Kimi’s hardness into her most intimate place.


Their kisses grew hotter and more urgent. Kimi began to slide her nightie up her legs. She flushed at the 
feel of his fingertips on the inside of her thighs. She lifted her bottom so he could slide the gown up and 
over her head. Now she was as naked as he was.


Kimi took particular care, this time. He didn’t want to spoil it for his wife so he gently ran his hands over 
her body. He followed with little butterfly kisses, on her tummy, chest and eventually her breasts. 


Eliza’s nipples ached in her arousal. She longed to have Kimi kiss and suck them and she directed his face 
to them. Kimi nibbled and licked them, listening to his wife’s heavy breathing.  He kissed his way down to 
her tummy button while his hands stroked her inner thighs. 


As Kimi went back to kiss Eliza’s mouth, his wife reached down and touched his cock. 


“Are you ready now?” she whispered.


“Are you?” he whispered back.


“I think so… do you think it will hurt?”


“I don’t know… I’ll be gentle.”


“I know you will… shall we try it? I… I think it’s open… um… my… down there.”


Kimi reached down and felt for her entrance. Eliza jerked slightly.


“See?” she said, “do you think it’s ready?”


“It’s wet…”


“Yes of course… so you can slide your thing in, twit.”


“I know… I’m not that dumb.”


“So?”


“So what?”


“So are you going to get on top of me, silly.”


Kimi rolled on top of Eliza and settled between her legs. His cock settled along her slit. He instinctively 
slid it up and down.


“Oh, that’s nice… keep doing that… uh… Mmm. You are so… beautiful, my love.”


“Shall we?”


“Yes… I’ll guide it… with my hand… there… in there… oh.”


Kimi pushed the bulb of his penis into her vaginal entrance. He took care to allow Eliza to adjust to the new 
sensation. 


“I don’t think it’s going to… go in,” Kimi said.


“Yes it will, push a little harder… it’s alright… uh… no, it’s alright… keep going… push it… oh. I feel… 
so full… uh… my hymen… you need to break it.”


“I know! I don’t want to… hurt you.”


“Do it, Kimi…you need to… now!”


Kimi hugged his wife tight and drew back for the hard thrust that would take her virginity. Together they 
counted 1,2,3 and Kimi pushed. With a sharp jab of pain Eliza felt it tear. Kimi held her and told her he was 
sorry.


“It’s alright, Kimi. Just stay there for a while, Ok? Don’t move.”


After a while they experimented with some gentle movements. They enjoyed grinding their pubic bones 
together, it was comfortable for Eliza and it kept Kimi hard.


“Try pushing it in and out a little more,” she told him, “not too fast.”


“Is that alright?” Kimi asked her.


“Yes, much better… go right in… it’s ok… uh… uh… like that… uh… nice…”


They found a nice steady rhythm. Kimi was carefully avoiding too much friction lest he pushed himself to 
come too soon. His concern for Eliza’s comfort delayed his own crisis.


Eliza head was thrown back, she was breathing hard and concentrating on the feeling.


“Much better,” she gasped, “ go faster…Mmm… oh… oh… uh… oh Kimi… uh… oh… harder… oh… 
faster… Mmm… ooohhh… Mmm… uh… oh…”


Eliza screwed up her face and shuddered. Kimi stopped thrusting and asked her, concerned,


“Are you alright?”


“Yes… fine…” she replied panting, “you… haven’t… finished?”


“No.”


“Then… go on… it’s ok.”


Kimi resumed thrusting in and out, Eliza holding him by the hips, feeling his muscles contract and relax.


Kimi propped himself on his hands and watched his wife’s face, and her jiggling breasts. He was now free 
to find the friction he had avoided and it wasn’t long before he could feel himself building up for his 
orgasm.


“Oh Eliza…” he moaned as felt himself coming. 


“That’s it… I can feel you… shoot it in me… oh… it’s … so hot,” Eliza gasped.
Later, they were lying in each other arms, gently stroking. The candles were still glowing, turning their 
naked flesh a bronze colour.


“What a mess, down there,” Eliza said.


“Someone left a towel, look.”


Kimi took a towel from off the nightstand and handed it to his wife. She put it between her legs.


“How are you feeling?” Kimi asked.


“A little sore, and sensitive. I’m glad it’s happened, though. And I’m glad it’s with you. You are so gentle 
with me. I’m so lucky.”


“So you’re not sorry you didn’t go out with the Americans?”


“No. Are you sorry didn’t go out with a big, busty German woman.”


“Or a Pole? Danzig is full of Polish. They ran away from Russia. No, I’m content my love. You are so 
pretty.”


They held each other as they fell asleep.









 























