Amor vincit omnia
Disclaimer: see chapter 1
Chapter7: An officer and gentleman
December 1941/January 1942
"Let's be blunt, Ron: When it comes to the Mediterranean – and we both know that we need to go there – we're in deep shit." Admiral Charles Jamison Forrester crossed his rather short legs in his blue uniform trousers and sucked angrily at his cigar. "I was talking with Lord Fenswick yesterday and you won't believe it: Even the English Embassy's proud minister admits that our friends, the Tommies, can't go there without us. Nelson's glorious ancestors are at their wits end – or better said, at their supplies' end. They're fighting all over Europe, they've lost already too many men and ships. We need to help them out, but with none of us having the slightest clue about this sea I would have to put my fleet under their guidance. That, Ron, isn't acceptable at all!" The Admiral let his fist fall down on his desk. "Get me someone who knows his way around there, Ron! Get me a retired Italian shipper – and I don't even mind if he's only ever shipped garbage as long as he knows that coast like the back of his hand."
"Well, I'm afraid a civilian won't do," Captain Ronald Soller replied. "Intelligence says the Germans already have a few of their submarines down there."
"Confirmed." The Admiral leant back. "It's hush-hush of course, but Fenswick told me that one of their tankers was already attacked by a submarine. Of course, they don't know exactly if it was a German or Italian one – but Fenswick thinks it was a German one. He says the aim of the Italians is usually so lousy they wouldn't hit a carrier if it's half a mile in front of them. However, it doesn't matter if it's Italian or German. The Tommies need everything that swims to hold Malta and Gibraltar; they simply can't afford to send their frigates out to deal with submarines. We have to go there – and soon! And that means we need an Italian shipper!"
"Well," Ronald Soller pulled his handkerchief out and wiped his bald head. Although it was winter, the admiral's office was too warm with a big fire roaring in the fireplace. "I think it will be rather difficult to find an Italian we can trust. But," he put the thin folder he'd been holding on the admiral's desk, "have a look at that."
The admiral had already opened the folder and was now looking at a yellowish piece from an old newspaper. It showed the photograph of a dark-haired young man with a moustache in a dark uniform. Around his neck hung a broad band with a silver cross. Impatiently the admiral scowled: "You know I don't speak German. What's this about?"
"That's an article from the Vienna Tagblatt in October 1916," the captain explained. "It tells the heroic story of the youngest Austrian-Hungarian naval officer who ever received the Maria-Theresien-Cross, the highest order the Emperor gave out. It was rewarded for independent action – the kind of action which gets you highest honour when a success and a court-martial when a failure. This guy got it when he was just a twenty year old lieutenant. One year later I met him in England – he'd come to take over a submarine while I was there for training."
"And you became friends!" the admiral smiled. "Are you going to tell me a story about the good old days?"
Ronald Sollers laughed. "Do you want me to, sir?"
"I'm grateful for any kind of distraction in the moment!" The admiral grinned. "Especially when there's a point which leads to something – as your stories usually have."
"Thank you, admiral. So then you'll get your fairy tale – only it isn't about me becoming friends with the Austrian-Hungarian hero. Just on the contrary: I hated his guts. Just imagine: We were a mixed group of young officers – mostly English, a few Americans and two or three Austrians. We'd already been at the Whitehead shipyard for months – torpedo training, you know? – and every single of us was swooning over the lovely Agathe Whitehead, the daughter of the shipyard's owner. She enjoyed our attention, she was very nice to all of us, but treated us like a lot of whelps playing around her feet. And then, one day, this dashing Austrian baron arrived, all baby blue eyes and an arrogance you'd want to throttle him for. Our princess saw him and was blown away. Only four weeks later the happy couple announced their engagement and around eight weeks after they'd met for the first time, the day before he was boarding his new submarine, Agathe Whitehead became Baroness von Trapp and every one of us dreamed of keelhauling her new husband."
The admiral enlightened his cigar anew. "They lived happily ever after?"
The captain sighed. "Unfortunately only for a few years. After the war the baron – now a Korvettenkapitän which is similar to our lieutenant commanders – became a civilian and moved to Austria with his wife. They had seven children …"
"Seven children?" The admiral grinned. "The man obviously found a new hobby after losing his commission."
"Agathe Whitehead loved Shakespeare and obviously thought of his saying 'The World must be peopled'," the captain grinned back. "They probably would have made the full dozen, but a few months after the birth of their seventh child she died of scarlet fever."
"Sad story," the admiral sighed. "Can we get to the part where the fairy tale becomes relevant to our duty?"
The captain took the folder back. "I think the man is the solution of our problem. He was born in Pola – a former port of the Austrian navy in Croatia. Then he grew up in Marseille – his father had died, his mother had married again and his stepfather was a French man. Yet they had a villa in Croatia and spent all their summers there. Around the age of 12 or so he became a cadet at the Austrian-Hungarian naval academy in Fiume, Italy. The man began his entire naval education in the Mediterranean sea and he served there for three years. I think you'll hardly find someone who knows the coasts there better than Korvettenkapitän Georg von Trapp. And he's a u-boat man …"
"Hmm." The admiral was watching the fire. "Sounds good. The only problem is, how do we get the man? We can't send him a letter asking if he'd like to join the American Navy – Austria is now a part of Germany, isn't it? Your hero probably has joined Hitler's navy and is fighting against us."
"As I've said: Von Trapp is arrogant." Captain Soller pulled another folder out of his map, labelled "top secret'. Grinning he opened it. "He'd never lower himself to work with such riff-raff as the Nazis. Look here, sir." He put the folder on his superior's desk and leant back.
Admiral Forrester studied the report. It was an account about Georg von Trapp's escape from Austria and how he'd come to USA. "Fleeing with seven children and a young wife," he said then, admiration in his voice. "He sounds a brave man with a strong character. Actually I see only one problem with him: He must be around 50 now – a bit old for active duty, don't you think?"
"He's exactly 46 now." Captain Soller replied. "Besides he should be as fit as a fiddle …"
"Oh, here I see: He's become a father again. A son named Johannes Sebastian – odd names those Austrians have – born in 1939 and a daughter named Barbara Agathe, born last year. The man's definitely fit," the admiral said.
"I actually didn't think of his potency," the captain laughed. "I thought of the work the man is doing. He's become a professional rider and riding instructor. It's said that his pupils all swoon over him – especially the female ones."
"They'll need to find something else to swoon about," the admiral decided. "I want this man. You'll go to New York tomorrow and get him."
"What can I offer him?" Captain Soller asked, taking paper and pen out.
"Hmm – the man isn't an American citizen yet? So let's start with the citizenship for him, his wife and the children who haven't got it yet. We'll make him a full captain with his years in the Austrian-Hungarian navy counting for pension. Besides he'll need a house – the usual stuff, Ron. I want this man in my staff, so let's spoil him!"
"So, little one, now you're all fresh and clean and ready to get fed again." Georg came around the bed, putting his youngest daughter in Maria's arms.
She kissed the infant's forehead, opened her shirt and, while giving the baby her breast, smiled up at her husband. "And when she's full, she'll make that you'll get to change her nappies again."
"As long as she gives me at least two or three hours of sleep before hand, I don't mind." Georg sat down on his bedside, watching how Maria breastfed their child. Sometimes, when doing so, he wondered why. As a father of nine he should have become accustomed to this sight long before. Nevertheless it never ceased to touch him. His wife, his Maria – he'd always thought her beautiful, but now with the child she was for him the most lovely woman alive. And little Barbara – he had to admit that he had actually wanted a girl with the golden hair and the fair skin of her mother. However, Barbara Agathe – Maria had insisted on naming her after his first wife – was entirely his daughter with dark hair, deep blue eyes and – to Maria's delight – even the dimples in her cheeks. Besides Maria maintained that Barbara had inherited her determination and temper from her father, too. Now she used the first to drink hungrily, her little fists balled and her face reddened in concentration.
"Georg?" Maria was looking at him. "You've been rather quiet since the captain left."
"Hmm," he nodded. "I've been thinking."
"Of course. It's a big decision, isn't it?" Maria reached with her free hand for his, entwining their fingers.
"What you're thinking about, Maria?" he asked.
"It's not my decision to make, but yours, darling," replied Maria, pulling his hand to her mouth and kissing it. "Whatever you decide to do – I'll stand behind you.
"I know, and I appreciate your support. Nevertheless it isn't only my decision, but ours. It concerns you and the children as much as it concerns me," Georg said thoughtfully. "If I take the commission, it means either a separation or the entire family moving to Annapolis. New schools for the children, a new house …"
"Captain Soller said they'd give us a nice, spacious house," Maria kissed her daughter's forehead before she put the protesting baby on her other breast. "And I'm sure they have good schools there. However, the most important question is: Would you like to become an officer again, my captain?"
For a few seconds Georg was silent. Then he slowly said: "I admit I miss the sea. And I've always loved being on a ship. Even in wartimes it gives one a sense of freedom I've never felt anywhere else. On the other hand I'd hate to be separated from you and the children."
"And how would you feel about fighting the Germans?" Maria asked.
Georg sighed. "I actually try to avoid thinking about it."
"Why is that, Georg?"
"Well," he sighed once again. "If started to think about it I'd probably come to the conclusion that it is one's duty to fight them. Just imagine what would happen if they win this war! Of course, we'd be safe here, but what about the people in Europe?"
Barbara was done with her meal. Yawning she let her head roll to the side, looking up at her mother out of sleepy eyes. "Come to father, little one!" Georg reached for her, laying her against his shoulder and tenderly patting her back until she burped. "So, young lady. I think you're ready for bed!" he said and stood up.
Maria had closed her night shirt and had stood up as well. "I'm going to check on Johannes and Gretl. She was a bit under the weather today."
Georg was just putting Barbara in her crib. "By the way: It's around ten o'clock. Where's Liesl?"
"Oh, Georg!" Maria sighed. "You know she's attending Grace's birthday party."
"Hmm. I take it that boy who's always hanging around here is there too?"
"Yes, Georg, that boy – whose name is Carlton, as you very well know and who is really a nice and well-mannered young man – is there too," Maria answered firmly. "And he is pretty fond of your daughter."
"I don't like him!" Georg stated. "He treats me like an old man! And didn't you see how he tried kiss her as when they came home the other day?"
"Well, your daughter actually didn't look as if she was protesting," Maria laughed and hugged him from behind. "You know, you're rather cute when you're over-protective?"
"Cute?" He turned around, taking her in his arms.
"Cute!" Maria confirmed, raising up on her tip toes and playfully biting in the tip of his nose. "Nevertheless I'm going to look after our children now." A peck on his cheek and she was gone.
Georg looked at Barbara who was now sleeping peacefully. Tucking the blanket around her, he bent down and kissed her forehead. "Your mother still is a whirlwind, isn't she? But you know what? I wouldn't like her any other way and I hope she'll never change." Slowly walking to the big bed, he slipped out of his dressing gown, folded it neatly, hung it over a chair and crawled under his blanket.
His thoughts went back to the visitor they'd got this evening. His timing had been perfect: They'd just been finished with dinner and Georg had gone out onto the porch to see Liesl off when the big, blue car had stopped in front of the house. Although the driver had worn a civilian grey suit Georg had immediately recognized him as a military man. There had been something in his bearing which was standard – at least to someone who'd so long lived among officers as Georg. And then, at second glance, he'd recognized the man. "Commander Soller – or are you already an admiral now? To what do I owe thehonour of your visit?"
Ronald Soller had taken the hand Georg had offered him. "It's Captain Soller, Baron – and I came to offer you a commission."
Georg had invited him in and called for Maria. Together they'd listened to the offer which was more than generous. Georg especially liked the part about the citizenship. As much as he'd loved being an Austrian – Austria wasn't there anymore. They were now stateless refugees who needed to plead for a renewed visa every six months. Of course, since Johannes' birth it had at least become easier for Maria. As the mother of an American citizen she'd gotten papers as an immigrant and was safe in America now. However, Georg had always worried about the rest of the family.
If he became an American naval officer this problem would be solved. Captain Soller had promised that they'd give him, Maria and all the children American citizenship.,And there was another problem which would get solved: His back and his job didn't get along very well. Twice in the last year he'd suffered from lumbago and by now he almost couldn't remember a day without pain. Of course, Maria did her best to help him, massaging his back every evening, providing him with salve and hot water bottles, but since his last visit at the doctor – Maria had insisted him consulting one – he knew that he wouldn't be able to ride professionally for much longer. The doctor had already wanted to get him out of the job now, saying: "You're living dangerously, Baron. Another fall could get you in a wheel chair."
It seemed almost ironic that he would probably find life less dangerous as an officer. Yet it was the truth, even in war times. He knew he wouldn't get a ship immediately, but certainly spend the first months being schooled anew. It would be necessary since it had been more than twenty-five years since he'd commanded a submarine. And even if he would get a ship – they'd send him to the Mediterranean where he knew his way around.
There was actually only one thing he really disliked about the offer: That it would mean a separation from his family. If he were to take over command of a ship again he would be away from home for months. He wouldn't see how Johannes learned to walk; he wouldn't hear Barbara's first words; he wouldn't be there to teach Kurt how to shave; he wouldn't be able to make sure that Liesl was treated decently and he wouldn't be there to coach Louisa who was becoming a really good rider. And how would he live without Maria? He was used to waking up next to her, to seeing her smile as the first thing in the morning, to getting a kiss first thing in the morning before getting out of bed.
And there were the nights. Although they were in their third year of marriage now, the nights were something Georg still marvelled at and still wondered about.
Once, as a young man, he'd loved Agathe with all the passion his age had made for. She'd loved him back and she'd enjoyed how much he desired her, but in a way she'd remained the delicate princess, even in the intimacy of their bedroom. With Agathe, making love had been all about tenderness and consideration for her sensitive body. Georg hadn't minded – certainly not.
Of course, Agathe hadn't been the first woman he'd made love to. His stepfather, though he'd barely been interested in Georg, had looked after that, telling 18 year old Georg that "l'amour" was something a gentleman needed to become educated at too. So he'd led Georg to his "club" where an experienced lady had shown him a few lessons on how to please a woman. He'd been grateful for these lessons – they'd certainly helped him later with his young wife. But there was one thing he hadn't learned, either with his professional "instructor" or with Agathe: That his passion and desire could find their match in a woman, that sometimes tenderness wasn't enough, and that he didn't need to hold himself back all the time.
That was what Maria had taught him. For her, the intimate part of their relationship wasn't only a way to show him gentleness and love, but she needed him as much as he needed her and she showed him her desire with a frankness which never ceased to amaze and to arouse him.
How he'd come to love the little signals she would send! When he came home in the evening she didn't only kiss him – he was now used to kissing her even with if of the children close by and would announcing to the others "They're smooching again!" – but also let her hand wander down on his back, briefly squeezing his behind; when she kissed him good night and started opening the buttons of his shirt; when she took his hand and put it on her breast – she showed him what she wanted and every time he felt blessed for not only having a wife who was his best friend, but a wonderful, passionate lover as well.
She was back in the bedroom now, smiling. "You know what, Baron? You've got really disclipined children. The young are all sleeping deeply and certainly won't disturb their parents in the next few hours."
He reached for her and pulled her down on the bed between his spread legs with her back against him. With his mouth in her soft hair he said: "I was thinking, Maria …"
Maria laid her hands over his, entwining her fingers with his as she always loved to do. "Of course you were thinking. One doesn't get an offer like that every day."
"Well, the last time I was offered a commission …" One of the many things he loved about Maria was that she even understood what he didn't want to say out loud.
This time she squeezed his hand. "Last time it didn't need any consideration. There was no way you could have become one of them."
"Now I'm asked to fight against them …" Once again he didn't finish his line.
"Does the thought bother you?" Maria asked softly. "Do you think you would fight against former comrades?"
Slowly Georg shook his head. "No, I don't think so. There aren't many of us left – and the few who survived are mostly too old for active duty, as I am."
"The Americans don't seem to think so," Maria reminded him.
"They're desperate. They don't have officers with experience in the Mediterranean sea," Georg sighed. "In a way it feels like my duty to support them. Hitler must be stopped. The idea of him winning this war …"
"… is unthinkable," Maria finished for him. "It's settled then, Georg, isn't it? If you think it your duty …"
"Maria," now he interrupted her, "there is another duty I have to consider – the one to you and our children."
"We're safe and sound, Georg." Maria turned around und cupped his face with her hands, looking in his eyes. "I know, Georg: If you take this commission, it means a separation and perhaps not only for a few weeks, but even for months. I'd hate it and the children would miss you dreadfully too. But," she was slightly blushing now, "when we came back from our honeymoon and you were arguing with Max about us singing at the folk festival, he asked me to persuade you at least to pretend going along with those people. I told him I couldn't ask you to become less than you are. I still stand by that answer, Georg."
For a moment he only looked at her and then he pulled her close, holding her while he whispered in her hair: "I don't know what I did to deserve you, Maria."
Maria leant back, kissing the tip of his nose. "But I do. You deserve my and the children's love and adoration for being the brave, noble, selfless man you are. And whatever you decide, we'll be at your side, proud and loving."
Once again he fell silent for a few seconds. Then, without looking at her, he cleared his throat. "Maria, we both know we're not talking about taking on a normal job. We're talking about my becoming a soldier in wartime – and that means I could end up in very dangerous situations that could have dire consequences."
Maria put her finger over his mouth. "Hush, Georg! I know what we're talking about, but I refuse to think about it."
"Maria, you can't close your eyes. When thinking about such a decision one has to face reality – as cruel it could be in this case."
For a few seconds Maria didn't answer but only snuggled against him. Raising her head, she said then: "One of the most important realities in my life is my trust in God. He led me to you, He protected us during our escape from the Nazis, He helped us build a new life here and He blessed us with our wonderful children. We're in His hands and as long as we believe in Him, he'll lead us on the right path. I know He'll protect you wherever you go. And if He should decide one day to take one of us away from this life, we'll only be separated for a short time. We'll find each other again – about that I'm sure."
Georg couldn't answer in words, he could only hold her against him more firmly. Sometimes he almost envied her for her seemingly childlike belief and trust in God. For him it had always been more difficult. He'd often fought with God, accusing Him for taking his their mother away from his children and from him his wife. And during the day in Zurich when he'd learned that they would have to start a new life with almost no money, he'd been really furious at God. He'd sat at the strand of the Zurich lake, looking up at the mountains and accused God of "unfairness", repeating a few times in his thoughts: "I really wouldn't mind if You punish me. I probably deserve it for the arrogance and ignorance I showed You for most of my life. But why are You punishing my children? Why are You doing this to Maria who never did anything bad in her life and who only ever tried to follow Your will? She doesn't deserve poverty and worries!"
However, now he'd gotten it. The change in their life - what he'd seen as fate playing a cruel trick on them – it had given his wife an opportunity to be at her best. It had given her the chance to use her strengths and to grow close to him in a way they'd probably never have managed in their old life. Today the thought of how he'd wanted to spoil her seemed almost ridiculous to him. All the things he wanted to offer her – jewellery, fine dresses, the status of the wealthy Baroness von Trapp – none of it would have mattered to Maria. Out of love for him she would have tried to play along. And he was sure that Maria, with her quick intelligence, her sensitivity and her ingrown sense for style and propriety, would have made a perfect society lady. Yet it wouldn't really have mattered to her. What Maria really wanted, she'd received: A close-knit family, a home and a loving husband.
"You know you're the best thing what ever happened to me?" he whispered and kissed her. Maria wrapped her arms around him, kissed him back and let her fingers play over the neckline of his shirt. Georg, understanding what she wanted, broke the kiss and smiled down at her. "Do you intend to do anything that I should know about?"
Maria kissed his neck, rose up and went to the door. Turning the key, she looked at him. "Somehow I think the American Navy wants you rather urgently. So we can't afford to waste time – we still have to work at getting our dozen full, remember?"
Maria had been right: The American Navy had wanted Georg urgently and quickly. The night after Captain Soller's first visit to their New York home the von Trapps had held a family conference and once again, the children had surprised their father. Not one of them had complained about moving again. Even Louisa, who'd had to fight tears at the thought of losing her beloved horses, hadn't said something about.
Instead they'd all supported him, Liesl being the eldest, spoke for all of her siblings: "We'll miss you dreadfully, when you're away, but fighting the Nazis is your duty. We'll be very proud of you, father."
However, Georg's biggest surprise had come from Friedrich. The morning after the family conference he'd accompanied Georg to the stables and there he'd asked to ride out with his father. After a wonderful, refreshing canter in the cold winter air he'd looked at Georg. "Father, I don't want to stay back here with Liesl and Uncle Max."
"But you'll have to, Friedrich. I don't think you can continue your studies in Annapolis," Georg replied. Just a year before his oldest son had graduated from high school and gotten a scholarship as a piano player at the Julliard Academy of Music.
Friedrich shook his head. "Father, I don't want to continue just now. There's a war going on and it feels wrong for me to stay back here when all my friends are joining the Army. I talked to a recruiting officer last week. I want to join the naval academy at Annapolis."
For a moment Georg looked at his son as if he was seeing him for the first time – and in way he really was, registering for the first time that Friedrich wasn't the lanky, blond, always a bit dreamy boy who'd once come to America anymore. Although still blond and – as Maria pointed out at least once a week – too thin, Friedrich had become a man and, as his proud father noticed, even a handsome one. He was even taller than Georg and sitting ram road straight on a grey stallion, he looked like a determined adult.
Nevertheless Georg didn't want to just agree to such an important decision without adding his thoughts to it. Bringing his horse closer to Friedrich, he reached over and briefly squeezed his son's shoulder. "Friedrich, you don't need to become a naval officer."
"You are one and so was your father," Friedrich answered simply.
Georg shook his head. "I didn't become in order to follow a family tradition. I did it because I love the sea and knew I'd become a good sailor."
"Do you doubt I'd be a good sailor?" There was a hint of aggression in Friedrich's voice.
"Certainly not," Georg replied firmly. "I'm convinced that all of my children can become great at anything they set their minds to."
"Then you doubt I'm brave enough?" The young man's voice had become quiet and flat.
"Friedrich! What could make me doubt your courage?" Georg smiled reassuringly at him. "Do you remember our last night in Austria? When I decided in Nonnberg Abbey that we'd escape on foot over the mountains, you were the one who said you children would manage. Have I never told you how terribly proud I was of you in that moment? And later, during our journey over the mountains, you supported your younger siblings and looked after them which showed me that you were becoming a man, and one I'd always be proud of."
"Actually …" Friedrich played with his stallion's mane. Without looking at Georg, he whispered: "I was afraid. And as that Rolf threatened you with his gun … I was scared stiff. I only wanted to run away and yet you went towards him, faced him and talked to him! Father, I could never have done that!"
"Friedrich!" Georg said in his sternest captain voice. "Look at me! Do you really believe I wasn't scared as well? Do you really believe I didn't want too run away as well? It's a normal human instinct to flee when you're in danger – and I'm certainly not a hero, but a normal human being, just like you."
"But you didn't run away!" Friedrich almost cried.
"No, I didn't," Georg agreed. "But there's a difference between you and me that you are overlooking: I was an adult while you were still a boy. Besides I was trained for such situations. I spent three years at a naval academy where I was trained for combat. And then I fought four years in a war. I learnt to suppress fear and to face danger."
"Therefore you don't fear anymore?" Friedrich asked quietly.
Georg shook his head again. "I don't think one could or should learn to become fearless. Fear is important – it makes you quick on your feet. Fear can save your life and whoever maintains he isn't afraid when facing a loaded gun is either an idiot or a liar."
"I want to learn how to deal with fear," Friedrich said. "Besides, I think it's my duty to fight against the Nazis too. How could I sit around here, playing piano while my father and my friends risk their lives by freeing Europe from tyranny? Father, since we left home, I've wanted to do something to get our country back! You're not the only Austrian patriot in this family. I do want to perform in Salzburg one day, and proudly see a red and white flag!"
"Well," Georg smiled at his son, "it seems we both will have to serve under the American flag for a little while in order to be able to get back home to our beloved red and white one."
"So you'll allow me to join the naval academy?" Friedrich wanted it confirmed.
"Yes, Friedrich. If you want to, you may join the navy." Georg took the reins of his stallion up. "And now let's go back to the stables – I must talk with Alois. He certainly won't like that I'm going away."
"Just one more moment, please." Friedrich looked awkward. "Father, since I'm leaving Julliard you'll loan some money, won't you? I mean, despite my scholarship you still had to pay for some money for me and if I would were going to stay in New York I would have still have needed some money."
"Yes," Georg nodded. "You want to get the money as an allowance during your time on the naval academy? They're not very generous with their cadets, are they?"
"I think what I get will suffice," Friedrich said. "I really don't need an allowance from you while I'm there. But … I mean, it's up to you what you do with your money, of course …" He started to stammer.
"What do you want me to do with this money that you apparently don't need?" Georg asked kindly.
"Well, it's about Louisa, father. Moving to Annapolis will be hardest for her and so I thought…" Friedrich blushed. "I mean, couldn't you get her a horse? A young, raw one? There are certainly stables around Annapolis too …"
"Actually I asked the officer who recruited me to look for a farm house to rent – with a stable and a nice meadow," Georg interrupted his stammering son with a smile. "That's why I want to speak with Alois too. I intend to persuade him to let me Conversano Theokratia. He's too sensitive to be a good school horse, but Louisa does well with him and she can learn a lot from him. By riding him she'll eventually be able to train a young horse for herself in a few years. Although," he clapped the neck of Pluto Bona he was sitting on, "I'm going to miss this boy."
In the end, Georg got both horses, Conversano Theokratia and Pluto Bona. Alois, though certainly not happy about losing his partner but understanding why Georg wanted to join the American navy, he had insisted on giving Conversano Theokratia to Louisa and had sold Pluto Bona to Georg for very little money, saying: "After the war, I really want to start breeding. Until then you'll have taught Pluto Bona the schools over the earth and you'll lend him me for my mares."
Two days after Christmas, Georg packed and went gone to Annapolis where he met Admiral Charles Jamison Forrester for the first time. As different as both men were – the Admiral almost a caricature of an old sea bear with his beard, bald head and the cigar – they'd gotten along immediately, noticing and appreciating the other's experience and competence at once.
The only thing Georg felt a bit uncomfortable about was the fact that the Admiral obviously had decided to spoil his new protégé too the fullest. He'd looked at the houses Captain Soller had suggested himself, declining every single one of them as "too small" or "not nice" enough until Captain Soller had found a rather big, old farmhouse with a lot of land around. Standing there on the porch the Admiral had lit a cigar and announced: "Some Europeans think we don't know how to live as both an officer and gentleman. And they're right! It's time we get someone in the staff who'll show us!"
Maria was delighted with the new house. She'd always dreamed of having a garden and it had a lovely one. Now she was already knee deep in garden catalogues, planning what she would plant in spring. She'd also adopted two kittens, telling Georg that one needed cats when living in a farmhouse. The only problem was that Fritz, the tomcat, had fallen in love with Georg or, to be more accurate, with his uniform. He used every opportunity to sneak in the master bedroom for a nap in Georg's closet – and he'd become a masterful at opening doors for himself.
The uniform – actually Georg had been amazed how easy it had been to become accustomed to it again. Of course, the American uniforms were a lot more comfortable than the rather pompous ones he'd once worn as a Korvettenkapitän in the Austrian-Hungarian navy. On the other hand Georg had received a wide variety of uniforms that he'd found overwhelming in the first days: Winter blue, summer beige, summer white with long sleeves and trousers, summer white with short sleeves and shorts – a uniform Georg hoped he wouldn't need to wear often because he found he looked like a school boy in it -, dress blue, dress white and gala with a short dinner jacket – he'd needed almost three days to sort out what belonged to what, but then he'd started to enjoy wearing a uniform again. He'd always found it practical: One didn't need to think about matching shirts, ties, socks and shoes and was nevertheless always properly dressed.
Only the awards had been a problem – for Admiral Forrester. As Georg had appeared in uniform – without any of his ribbons because he'd left his collection back in Austria – the Admiral had almost fainted.
"You've been honoured with the highest order of your country – why aren't you wearing it?" he'd asked.
"Because I don't have the ribbon with me," Georg had simply answered. "Besides I doubt someone would be able to recognize my Austrian ribbons here."
"Wrong, young man!" the Admiral had snorted. "I want you to wear your ribbons – and I assure you: They'll be recognized!"
"Sir, with all due respect: I doubt I can get Austrian orders and ribbons here," Georg had said. "Besides I didn't only let the orders back, but the papers which belong to them too. I couldn't even prove I've really got my captain's patent."
"You're underestimating us, Captain. Our intelligence has a nice folder about you," the Admiral had grinned. "You'll get your orders and ribbons! I'll look after it myself!"
Indeed, three days later a young Marine sergeant had presented himself at the door of the hotel room Georg had been staying until his family moved. He'd carried a flat, wooden box. "Courtesy of Admiral Forrester, sir: your orders and ribbons. And as your new orderly and driver I'm supposed to help you with them, sir."
The Admiral had really provided Georg with all of the ribbons he'd ever earned in Austria which had made for four rows of awards. Seeing them on Georg's chest, the old sailor had rubbed his hands together in glee. "Now it's right! Now I can present you properly!" Then he'd explained Georg what he'd do in the next weeks: "First you'll get a proper schooling in the new technology – that is what you'll do in the mornings. In the afternoons you'll teach us about the Mediterranean. In February I'm to set my flag on the USS Carrier Ship George Washington which is heading to Gibraltar just now. We'll get you a submarine then. You're to become a force in my fleet."
Living in a port, surrounded by ships and sailors actually made Georg long to get back to the sea himself. He just didn't have much time to think about. One week into the new year the truck with the family's belonging had arrived. Georg, who'd always hated staying in a hotel, had spent the first night in his new home on a sofa, surrounded by boxes and furniture. In the morning – Georg had just gotten himself an instant coffee which he drank with disgust – the Admiral's black car had approached and the sturdy old man had jumped out and stormed up the stairs: "I forgot to tell you that we have an early appointment, Captain. Are you ready?"
Georg, by now already used on the tempo of his superior, had gripped his jacket and cover, binding his tie while walking out, joining the Admiral in the car. They talked about this and that until the car drove through a big iron gate into a park. The Admiral grinned. "You don't have a clue where we are, Captain?"
"Absolutely not, sir," Georg answered truthfully, looking at a big white hall with the flag on a pole in front of it.
The Admiral chuckled. "If someone would have told me that someday I'd bring an officer here who doesn't know this place …" Leaving the car with Georg, he saluted the flag and had Georg follow him into a big hall where around fifty young men in simple blue uniforms were waiting around a stage.
On the stage a huge, black sergeant yelled: "Attention! Admiral on deck!"
Georg didn't needed the Admiral to point out the tall, blond who stood in the first row at the left side, his blue eyes beaming with pride. Seeing him, Georg lost for one moment his military stance, grinning broadly at his son.
Nevertheless the Admiral managed to surprise him. After the national anthem and the usual speeches Georg, as a guest of honour sitting among other officers on the stage, suddenly heard the sergeant: "Captain Georg Ludwig Ritter von Trapp, Cadet Friedrich James Ritter von Trapp at the front!"
The Admiral had gotten up and stood in front of the flag, waving Georg and Friedrich to him. "As a special honour to the Academy Class of 1941 we're to take up a new member in our ranks today. Captain Georg Ludwig Ritter von Trapp, are you ready to pledge your allegiance to the United States of America and its navy?"
Standing at attention, Georg replied his "Yes, sir!" And out of the corner of his eyes he saw how his son blushed with pride as he listened to his father swear his oath and become an honorary member of the Academy Class of 1941.
The next evening father and son welcomed the rest of the family at the airport and showed them to their new home. However, since then Georg hadn't seen much of his family. The Admiral had ordered a young engineer to get Georg familiar with all important new developments in the submarine techniques as soon as possible. Lieutenant Commander Hendricks took this task seriously. He filled Georg's office with piles of plans and books and spent every morning instructing Georg in them. Luckily Georg had always been pretty good in engineering himself and despite of the fact that he had not come close to a ship in ages, he'd always kept himself up to date.
Nevertheless it was a lot to learn and read, and his morning studies would have been enough by themselves. Georg also spent almost every night in his new study, working until he fell asleep at his desk. It had become quite usual that Maria would come down to him around midnight, taking his book away and telling him: "Come to bed, Georg – even you can't learn all the changes in the last twenty years in just one month!"
And then the afternoon part of his job was no less demanding. The material the Americans had collected about the Mediterranean really wasn't good, and even the information from the English colleagues wouldn't be much help because they knew little to nothing about the coast around Croatia. Georg could help out there – he hadn't only spent the first years of his life in a Croatian port, but all his holidays after that. He knew every cove from Rijeka to Split and for him it wasn't a problem to make find them on the photographs taken from the air. He even could made out certain changes in the little ports on the coast and so it was he who discovered that one of those little ports was obviously being used as a submarine bunker –information even intelligence hadn't known about.
The Admiral had, in every case, been delighted with what his new protégé discovered. He'd clapped Georg's shoulders and loudly roared: "That's why I wanted you, Captain! I knew your knowledge of this bloody coast would help us!" And after Georg had left his office, the Admiral had called his superior: "I told you, Dan, this Austrian is worth every penny we pay for him! But now let's get him a ship as soon as possible! The man's wasted in an office – we need him out there! He'll give the Germans submarine a run for their money!"
To be continued