Hi, my dear readers!
When you click on this chapter, don't be confused. It's the already published one. Somehow I made a mistake and skipped the prior chapter, what I changed now. So please go one chapter backwards and you'll read a very fluffy and sweet one, before this darker one here comes.
I'm very sorry for the chaos, and I hope you're not irritated.
For those, who hadn't read this one here:
As I warned, this chapter (and the next one) will be about the most darkest days within the last weeks of the war. I pondered, if I should approach these two topics at all, which rule the two chapters, but then I thought, to avoid them wouldn't be right. One showed the brutal truth of how far Hitler and his fellows went, the other one was crucial for the stubborn refusal of the staff in Berlin to quit 'til the bitter end (and is also a part of history that still has influence even today). I don't want to reveal too much, but only want to give a little warning that these two things were never brought up in the TV-show, but are inseparable connected with WW II.
Yet I hope, I don't scare you readers off – or to hurt anyone's feelings.
Disclaimer:
The mentioned persons (officers and politicians) are historical persons, and I refer to them with respect and no intention of offending their heirs. In this chapter – for the first time within my story – two real persons have a short appearance, and I wrote about them with great respect and no ill-will, but as public persons: Prime-Minister Winston Churchill and General Vandenberg.
For once, I don't wish you to have fun, but hopefully you're still going to like the whole chapter.
Love
Yours Starflight
Chapter 52 – Opinions differ the question
Hogan had lain down again after Klink left. It was still early in the morning, and there was no reason why he should not linger in bed a little bit longer. At least as long as he would still stay in Will's quarters. Yes, his bad conscience grew, knowing that he was snuggling in warm blankets and cushions in a real bed with a cozy quarters around him while his men stood outside in the cold during roll call only to return afterwards to the cool barracks. Heavens, he really should return to them. He was as good as healed despite the scars on his back, the still mending broken ribs, and the effort his leg muscles gave him here and there. Okay, the training Wilson had made with him did wonders, and he felt stronger day by day.
Sports could help a guy to regain his feet, not to speak of the 'training-sessions' he and Will had within the last few nights.
Robert grinned for a moment; imagine his friends fainting in shock if they should ever learn that he and Klink had become a couple.
Pulling the blankets higher and closing his eyes, he began to plot some ways on how to stay evenings and maybe the one or other whole night with Will, but officially living back in his own quarters in Barracks 2. The tunnels were a solution, yet he needed a few good excuses for his men and why he was absent in the late evening. To have chess games with the Kommandant or to speak about some missions with him would get old during the weeks and…
Robert was torn out of his musings as the front door banged open. "Colonel Hogan!" Schultz sounded…upset? Yes, this was the right word.
He heard the large Bavarian nearing and quickly sat up. "I'm here, Schultz."
The next moment, the door of the bedroom opened, and Schultz stopped shortly at the threshold out of breath and…and there was a lot of sorrow and even some horror on his face. "Colonel Hogan, I think…I think the Kommandant needs you."
That got Hogan's attention quicker than any raising of alarm. "What happened?" He asked, throwing the blankets away and swinging his legs over the bed's edge.
Schultz gulped. "Something terrrrrrible happened…it is still happening! And…and I think the Kommandant needs you right now. I…I've never seen him like this."
The American officer was already slipping into his clothes. "Care to tell me what is happening?" To say the truth, Schultz's paleness, wide eyes, and shaking voice unsettled him a lot.
"Just…just please come with me, Herr Hogan. It's better you see it with your own eyes or learn everything from the Big Shot."
Okay, now Hogan was worried. That Schultz referred to him as 'Herr Hogan' always implied that something was private, yet it was obviously bad enough to stir up the Sergeant of the Guards a great deal. Putting on his leather jacket and cap, the colonel gestured to Schultz to lead the way, and a few seconds later, both men left the Kommandant's quarters. Hogan shivered as he crossed the compound; not only because of the coldness, but mainly because of the changed atmosphere. It was almost eerily silent. Even among several POWs, which stood in the yard confused and watching everyone carefully. On the watch towers were more men than necessary, and for a moment, he thought whatever happened had forced Will to reinforce the guards. But then he realized that half of them were telling their comrades something in earnest…and everywhere he saw the same shock and horror spreading over the Germans' faces.
What the hell?
They reached the Kommandantur, and Robert followed Schultz inside. Hilda had not arrived yet, and the door to Will's office was half open. Hans laid a finger against his lips before he pointed towards the door, gesturing to Hogan to step in without him. So, this really was private – and also not, seeing the unsettled guards outside.
Robert was more than worried now. Had something maybe happened to Will's family? A reason he could think of for Schultz's behavior. Then why were the guards so horrified? Or had something happened within Germany that fazed everyone so severely? It could not be the eventual death of Hitler. Hogan was certain that most guards would be relieved, and Will would celebrate instead of reacting in a way that worried Schultz enough to get him for the Kommandant's sake.
He knocked gently at the door frame and entered Klink's office like he had done it hundreds of times before. And for the first time ever, he was met with a tense, dreadful ambiance.
Will sat at his desk, shaking hands holding each other on the desktop in a vice-like grip, head lowered. The radio was switched on, and the broadcast obviously had some errors, because there was more static than anything else.
At his arrival, Klink slowly lifted his head, and Rob was taken aback by the tears which streamed down his lover's cheeks. But the worst were his eyes. They spoke of a deep loss mixed with sorrow, disbelief, and pain.
"Did you know it?" Klink whispered, voice hoarse.
Robert blinked, aware that something really terrible must have occurred. "Did I know what?" he asked quietly, wracking his brain to what Will could refer.
"Dresden," Wilhelm replied quietly. "Did you know that this would happen?"
Hogan frowned. Dresden? The culture metropole at the Elbe River in Saxony? "What…what about Dresden?" He asked, already assuming the worst.
For a long moment, Klink only looked at him – testing, probing, uncertain, almost imploring that Hogan really did not know anything before it happened. Despite his blurred sight because of too much tears, Will saw the honest confusion on the younger man's face, and his stance folded into himself. On the one hand, it was pure relief that Robert had not kept something like this from him; on the other hand, it showed him how much the warfare had changed towards a hell that had to be born from the devil's mind and opened its doors even wider.
"It burns," he murmured. "Dresden is burning. They've been broadcasting it for a few hours now, but I only learned about it after I entered my office." He swallowed a large lump in his throat, his voice shaking. "They came in the later evening yesterday…destroyed everything. The historic district – the Semper Opera, the Dresden Castle, the Royal Chapel, the Zwinger with the exhibits of generations of kings from all over of Europe, the Brühl's Terrace, the Italian Little Village, the Lady's Church – the Frauenkirche – the Academy of Arts…everything is in flames. Buildings which stood for centuries…are burning down and collapsing."
"Oh my God," Hogan whispered, feeling all the color draining from his face.
Klink's hands clung to each other in a way that had to be painful, but obviously he did not even feel it. "And the people… The Allies seem to use new brand bombs. It elicited a firestorm. People were pulled into the flames even if they were many meters away; houses and whole streets are filled with fire. The whole downtown burns, Rob! On both sides of the river…and they didn't stop after the first raid. Another one was flown three hours later – after every still living citizen thought the attack was over and left shelter!" He gestured towards the radio. "They say that the second wave was not only meant for downtown, but also for the large parks within Dresden and for the grassland of the Elbe River. To where many survivals fled after 'all clear' was given. They…they had no chance to stay alive even if they managed to leave the burning streets. They say the river banks are crowded with dead bodies…and no one knows how many victims are within the streets, houses, and parks."
He had glanced towards the radio while speaking, but was now looking back at Hogan. "Is this the way you Allies fight now?" He breathed, face ashen-pale and almost expressionless all of sudden. "Flying attacks and after everyone thinks the horror is over, attacking again to kill even more people?"
It was like a slap into the face, and Robert knew that this one air raid, this particular attack, could change a lot. Not only in Germany, but also concerning the Allies' supporters. To attack not military, but cultural targets and civilian people on purpose was a taboo. A taboo Hitler broke a lot of times, yes, but the London brass were not fellows of the insane little private. Yet they had done it – had gone the same way Hitler did before.
But those thoughts were not the reason why Robert went to the desk, rounded it, and closed the roll up curtains before he, without any further thought, bent down to gather Will into his arms. He felt his secret lover shaking, body stiff. Not giving a damn who was going to see him or not, Rob opened with one hand his jacket and pulled the leather around the Oberst to protect him from the cold. Just like he had done it during their trip through the woods in the beginning of January. Yet he knew that no blanket or fire could warm Will in the moment, because the ice that obviously flew through the older man's veins poured down from his hurt soul.
Every Saxonian loved Dresden. It was their capital. And this was not the whole reason for these people's devotion for said town. Dresden was the 'Florence of the Elbe'. The Baroque town in Northern Europe. The town of the king, whose many affairs, but also fairness towards his mistresses and his people (rich and poor), partly changed the worldview of many other mighty men who came after him: August the Strong. Dresden's splendor, its fortune, honor, and esteem had been built for centuries after this one man, whose heart and soul still seemed to roam the streets, keeping alive the memories of a time long ago.
And now this town was burning down. The respect and the history of its cultural importance forgotten in the insanity of this century's second war.
Hogan was not without sympathy for those Germans who did not know what Hitler and his goonies really did – or for those, who had no chance to fight against the Führer without risking their families' lives. He could imagine how much the destruction of towns, villages, and other places hurt many, many people. Not only because of personal losses of family members and friends, but also because their homes were gone. Hell, he had argued with Butler only a few days ago during the destructive attack of Berlin that certainly costed thousands of civilian lives. But to destroy something of such cultural value was…was simply WRONG! And Hogan always went against something that was wrong in his eyes. Especially when it was something of humanity and moral concern.
He felt Will shaking, while the older man almost folded into himself. Robert tightened his arms around his secret lover and tried to be an anchor for him, while Klink listened to the radio broadcast that became clearer now.
'I repeat; the first alert was given at 21:45 hours. A quarter hour later, the first bombers arrived. The skies were cloudless. The stars were clear to see – and showed our enemies the way so they could select the most important and vulnerable spots of the town by marking them with magnesium bombs. The lights were the targets. And then hell opened its doors; its unholy fires gripped for every man, woman, and child. Every building and street within the town. We're here on the northwest hill of the city, and even if daylight tries to break through the smoke, there is no need for the sun to show us what's going on a few kilometers away. The town is in flames. All we can see is flames. All we can hear is raging fire and the cries of people in need for aid and in despair despite the roar of the inferno. Dresden, the town of Baroque and art, is no more.'
Hogan had heard enough. Even if the report was given in German, he translated it fluidly without any problem. But what gave him trouble was the reporter's voice. Yes, Goebbels leaded his PR-ministry formidable despite the fact that he was as insane as his boss. And Robert had heard enough German broadcasts within the last few years to know that the reporters were encouraged (better to say, ordered) to exploit even the tiniest details and happenings for the Nazi-PR to steer the German people's mood. But not in this case. The man was horrified, shocked beyond everything, while he gave his reports as an eye witness near the burning town. And after everything Germany had suffered until now (even if the bubble-brain and his goonies provoked it), to hear this man's fright told the colonel all he needed to know. Here had something happened that had gone too far. This air raid had to be worse than all the others, and it made him sick to know how many innocent people had and still were dying.
He bent down even more and laid his head on Will's. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, meaning it in every sense of the words, while one of his hands moved in soothing circles over the other man's upper arm. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
He felt Klink leaning into him, the mask of the proud and sometimes vain officer that covered Klink's true uncertainness completely gone. All that was left was Wilhelm. A man who mourned for his people and for a town he had dearly loved.
*** HH ***
The chastened and almost dark atmosphere in the camp went on for the rest of the morning. Hilda had been pale as she arrived, but kept her distance as she saw the reddened eyes of her boss and a still charming, yet very protective Robert Hogan, who blocked the view of the Kommandant and asked her gently to give the Oberst some time for himself.
The first rumors of the nightly double attack made a quick round among the Barracks, and many POWs simply shrugged it off with a few, sometimes rude comments about "The Krauts must be used to something like this by now" and "Serves them right". Then, as more and more details became known, a lot of those men became silent. As it seemed, this time there had been no military targets which could be the reason for the air raid. Even those POWs, who had never visited a gymnasium or had not been given a good education, knew that Dresden was mainly known for its many museums and baroque buildings, including special churches which were unique around the world. It was a center of culture and nothing else. To attack and destroy this all without a higher purpose stuck in their craw.
Hogan's men were outside of Barracks 2. It was almost midday, and the weather was as bad as it had been in the morning. Carter had seen their superior and friend practically running to the Kommandantur together with Schultz shortly after morning roll call, and curious, they had switched on the 'coffee-pot' to learn what had made their officially still so ill CO hurrying to his lover's side.
They had not needed to eavesdrop much to learn what happened, cut off the link to grant the two men privacy, and had switched on one of the secret radios they had hidden in their Barracks. All four of them spoke fluid German, therefore they could follow the reporter's broadcast easily.
First they had reacted like most of the others: another town was attacked – hell, it was war after all. Then it had dawned on them that said city was not more than a cultural town with no greater industry. And then they learned that the second attack wave was three hours later – killing certainly even more people then during the first attack, because they had left their shelter to flee the burning houses and streets. This second wave had been murderous, and every one of Hogan's men felt uncomfortable. If this report was correct and there were not several things added to exaggerate everything like it was usually within this country, then this air raid's target had been civilian people and cultural monuments – something they could not tolerate.
"I really don't see any reason why our boys attacked this town," Newkirk said quietly, flipping away the ciggy of his smoked cigarette. "I mean, yeah, it's a larger town in Germany and it is located at a statically interesting place: near the Czechian border at the Elbe River, but this is no bloody reason to burn down all those historical buildings."
"The people," Kinch murmured, sticking his fists into the pockets of his jacket. "Don't forget the people. I listened to the last broadcasting a few minutes ago. They're saying that thousands of German fugitives from Czechia, Hungary, and Slovakia arrived a few days ago. They found shelters in made shift camps on plazas and in streets. There also arrived large convoys with wounded Wehrmacht-soldiers – a few thousands of them who had been brought to safety from the East Front after they were forced to leave Hungary. The town must have been over crowded with refugees. Just guess how many of them found shelter in time."
"Not too much – if at all," Carter said quietly, his boyish features betrayed his dismay. Yes, he loved to tinker with everything that can detonate and suggested over and over again some harsh missions at which certainly many more SS-men and Wehrmacht-members would have died had it not been for Hogan, who always tried to keep the number of victims as low as possible. But the imagination of make shift camps in streets and on plazas going up in flames with no chance for the inhabitants to flee unsettled him. Just like it did with the others.
Awkward silence lingered among the Heroes. Battles within a war was one thing. To burn down a town full of civilian people and fugitives, including casualties, was another thing. And when they listened to the quiet talks around them, many of the other POWs saw it likewise.
*** HH ***
Hogan had remained with Klink in the Oberst's office. There was no thinking of starting any daily routine. After awhile, Will had come out of his shock, and Robert had switched off the radio. There was no need to hear the horrible news over and over again. It only stirred up more sorrow and pain, and the American wanted to spare his secret lover any more hurt.
After a few minutes of silence, Wilhelm began to talk about the dozen times and more he had visited Dresden as a child. His father's younger brother had married a young woman from Dresden, whose father ran a chocolatery there, and he would be the new owner one day. They married in the Frauenkirche, and it had been the first time Little Wilhelm had been in Dresden. He had been struck with awe at the sight.
Before his father died and they moved to Düsseldorf, the little boy had been in Dresden a few times. Later, as a teenager, he had visited to celebrate important family anniversaries at his uncle's branch of the family. He had enjoyed every visit, and his uncle had taken him to the Dresden Palace, to the Zwinger, and one time, Will had been even allowed into the Semper Opera. He had been lost in wonder as he walked through the main foyer, the side foyers, and the halls. Walls and bowed ceilings covered with paintings of different opera scenes. Floor and columns covered with green and red marble. Breathlessly, he had followed the orchestra's practice in the afternoon, eyes wide when he saw the mighty chandelier for the first time and the king's loge with its large, red velvet curtains, columns coated with gold.
They had made a ship's trip along the Elbe River on a paddle wheeler that belonged to one of the so-called 'White Fleet' to visit the Elbe Sandstone Mountains, bypassing the manors of princes and rich industrialists, as well as King August's summer residence.
Those had been Klink's most beautiful and happiest memories of Dresden – but there were also sad ones.
His uncle fell prey to the first war, and Wilhelm had been granted home leave to attend the burial. Afterwards, his aunt ran the chocolatery alone until she died five years later. The contact between Wilhelm's and his late uncle's family branches had fallen asleep during the following years. Telephone calls at Christmas between him and his cousins had been all, and Wilhelm knew that his cousins had not joined the Wehrmacht officially. Yet he heard through secret channels that two of them were in the Volkssturm now, and his oldest cousin was too ill to join even this 'service'. Their sons were in the Wehrmacht and SS – and Klink hadn't the tiniest clue if they were still alive, POWs somewhere, or still free and fighting.
Robert let Wilhelm talk. He knew that this was the best for the mourning man. Sitting beside him on a visitor chair he had pulled behind the desk, he had wrapped an arm around his lover's shoulder and listened. To admit the truth, Will's description of the town woke his curiosity, and he felt some sadness rising in him at the knowledge that he would never be able to see this all with his own eyes. The chance had passed away, and neither of the two men could guess that it would need almost 70 years until the city would be back to its old glory. Yet the original buildings were gone. Even if the re-rising was done by using the still standing ruins, the spirit of the old times had died together with the town and its people.
It was midday when Hilda knocked softly at her boss' door and peeked in, not too surprised seeing Hogan sitting beside Klink and offering comfort. Those two had really developed a deep friendship, this much she had known for weeks now, and it calmed her to know that there was someone there for the Oberst, who had to hurt because of the events. She hated to bring more bad news, but there was no way Klink would not learn of it within the next few hours. It was better if he learned it from someone he knew and trusted instead of some distant radio report…and in the presence of a caring friend, no less.
Robert glanced at the young woman. "Hilda, what is it?" He asked softly. Klink remained silent.
Hilda took a deep breath and made a step into the room. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but…" She took another very deep breath and addressed her boss. "Herr Kommandant, they just broadcasted that…that another attack is about to happen."
Klink only looked at her, while Hogan felt his guts twisting. Attacks were done everywhere, so why did Hilda bring it up? Unless it had to do, again, with Dresden.
Hogan tensed up, while he asked quietly, "Where?"
Her glance hung full of searing sympathy at Klink. "Dresden again." She whispered.
The Oberst leaped onto his feet, his monocle fell on the stacks of paper on his desk unbroken. "NO!" He gasped in horror, while Hogan swore beneath his breath.
"They gave alert a few minutes ago. A large squadron is heading towards Dresden – bombers and escort fighters. They say the aircrafts will reach the town within the next few minutes. The live broadcast was shut off to give the reports the chance to flee more to the west…away from the Elbe Valley," Hilda whispered.
Hogan cursed savagely, fury woke in him. "For God's damn sake, do they want to RAZE the town or what?!" He rose and went to the radio, switching it on. For a long moment, he listened to the reporter, who broadcasted from a radio station somewhere else in Germany. Maybe even directly from Berlin.
"More than 300 bombers and over a hundred escort fighters are attacking Dresden again. The whole town is still in flames, yet the Allies continue their destruction. Our Luftwaffe wasn't prepared for a third attack, seeing that the downtown is already burning down. Before our reporter had to stop the broadcasting to search for shelter, first eye witnesses spoke of the unbelievable devastation that took place already and of the brutality the attackers displayed. We got first reports that strafers hunted fleeing people along the Elbe shores – especially on the other side of the historical center, where the banks are wide and without any shelter. They shot hundreds of civilians. The same went for the Great Park. The lights of the fire changed the survivals into good visible targets, and they fell prey to strafed attacks. One moment, the first reports are coming in." For a moment there was silence, then the man began anew. "It has begun: a third aircraft raid. New bombs are falling on Dresden. It is not imaginable what this will do to the already…"
Hogan had heard enough. He switched off the radio and stared with a dark expression on the device, as if it was the radio's fault for what was happening. No word was spoken, then life returned to Robert. Abruptly, he turned around and headed to door.
"Where are you going?" Klink asked quietly, his voice sounded forlorn like that of a child.
"Talking with London and asking them if they have gone insane!" Hogan snarled, tore open the door, and left the office.
He went with hard, quick, large steps towards Barracks 2, ignoring the murmurs and questions of several POWs on the compound. He entered the hut and met the startled gazes of his friends and other inhabitants of the Barracks, who sat around the long table to have lunch.
The Heroes did not dare to address him as they saw his face. The signal 'Thunderstorm' was plainly written over his features as he barked, "Kinch, with me!" Even the level-headed sergeant hurried to follow the order. He knew his friend well enough to realize that Hogan was boiling with anger.
Knocking at the upper bed frame next to the door, the secret entrance to the tunnels opened, and Hogan gestured to Kinch to go first. "Call London. I want to speak with General Butler. And I do not care if he is a meeting with Churchill, the blasted King of China, or in the restrooms! He gets his ass to the next radio possible now!"
Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau looked at the colonel while he climbed down the ladder after Kinch, and then at each other. What for God's sake had enraged their superior this much? Okay, they knew that Klink was Saxonian and what happened in Dresden really was a no-go that certainly hit the Kommandant hard, but what had triggered Hogan this much now, many hours after the attack?
"Olsen, watch the door!" Newkirk said quietly, glanced at his other three friends, pointed with his head towards the entrance, and he and the others followed Hogan down into the tunnels.
Kinch was at the radio, while Hogan paced back and forth; arms crossed, head lowered, shoulders tense.
"What happened, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked softly.
He caught a heated glare from his friend and CO before Hogan shook his head. "You'll learn of it soon." He growled. He glanced at Kinch. "No answer?"
"No, they…ah, finally. Goldilocks, this is Papa Bear. We need to speak with Bird Roc. I repeat, we need to speak with Bird Roc now."
He listened and said, "They'll send a safe frequency, and asked the general to give us a few minutes. He is next door in the radio centrum."
"I said, I don't care if he is in a damn meeting or in the restrooms! I want to talk with hi…" Hogan was interrupted, as Kinch lifted a hand to stop him, listened anew, and said, "Thank you, Goldilocks." He switched to another frequency, and Robert stepped beside him.
The colonel only nodded curtly with a "Thanks", sat down on the chair Kinchloe made free for him, and put on the headset.
A minute later, the known voice of General Butler sounded from the tiny speakers. "Papa Bear, Butler here. This better be important, Robert. We're in the middle of…"
"Have you gone all insane over there in London?" Hogan did not care that he risked court-martial right now – and with it his rank, job, and freedom. Rarely he had been enraged like this. He heard his friends gasp and did not need to look at them to know that they were shocked about his outburst. Towards a general, no less. But right now, protocol did not matter to him. "What, the hell, are you planning? To raze the town, or is Dresden only the beginning of what you have in mind for every city in Germany? Are you planning to delete this country from the globe, or what?"
"Robert…" Butler began, an edge of warning in his voice.
"The whole town of Dresden is already burning after two air raid waves, and now you decided to attack a third time – again hours after the last raid?"
The Heroes paled, and Newkirk felt his jaw sinking towards the floor.
"The second time was already a foul move – with our aircrafts coming out of the dark and the smoke, three hours after 'all clear' was given, catching the survivals by surprise and giving them no damn chance to find shelter in the burning city. They were utterly exposed to the attack," Hogan snarled. "But to do it now, hours later when the first emergency aids have begun…it borders to murder!"
Butler sounded irritated. "Robert, this is war. And during attacks people die, but…"
"To gun down flying people on a river bank and in large parks with air fighters, and to set a historical center of culture into flames by bombing it not one, two, but three times has nothing to do with warfare! Not in the sense honorable warriors used to do!" Hogan interrupted him sharply. "This is the behavior of savages!"
For a moment, there was silence before Butler answered, "The Brits and our boys have gunned down fleeing civilians? By all my means, I can't imagine this. We can ask the CO of the mission, Major Harris, about it, but I don't think that our boys would do something like this."
"Really? Bloodlust can seize every soldier. You don't have to wear a Wehrmacht or SS-uniform for it!" Hogan snapped. "What's going on there has become a misdeed. A crime that is worth to be done by Hitler. Until now, I thought we were standing above these kinds of wrongdoing – that we're better than that cursed bubble-beard. As it seems, I was mistaken, and I want to know why the brass in London has decided to skip everything we originally stood for!"
"You're about to go out on a limb, son, so calm down!" Butler's voice betrayed anger now, too. "And concerning the strafers, I don't think our boys have lost the nerves, but if so, especially the Brits, I cannot damn them."
"What do you mean?" Hogan asked.
"We got the number of killed British civilians since the begin of war. 54,000, Robert, approximately 54,000 British civilian people were killed since the war started!"
"54,000 dead British civilians since the start of war?" Hogan murmured, unsettled.
Newkirk closed his eyes and groaned like being in pain, while Robert pressed his lips shortly into a thin line. What a number of senseless losses. For a moment, he lowered his head, then he took a deep breath. "Those facts are horrible, and Hitler should rot in Hell until the end of all time, but do his crimes justify what we have done last night and today?" He asked hoarsely, dreaded by the news from both sides. "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth? Is this the new way the brass goes now?"
"Of course not, Robert. We're not in the damn Romanian times!" Butler snapped.
"Right, of course the brass doesn't want revenge," Hogan said sarcastically. "But the last air-raids sound an awful lot like large paybacks to me. Attacks which costs mainly civilian people their lives and had less to do with getting down the enemy's facilities or military installations. How many people died in Berlin last week?"
Butler sighed on the other end of the line. "We got the number a few hours ago. Hitler lies about the victims. Concerning our information, there were 22,000 to 24,000 of them."
"More than 20,000 dead civilians in Berlin and now this inhumane attack on Dresden which certainly cost much more lives than the air raid in Berlin," Hogan said bitterly, while LeBeau lowered his head, and Kinch closed his eyes. "And how many died in Frankfurt last year? Or in Munich?" He did not get an answer, and so Hogan continued. "Too many! Too many killed civilians. How many of them have to die until London regards the blood-bill as paid?"
"Robert, you allege us to attack out of revenge?" The general sounded almost shocked.
"What else shall I believe when I hear that you attack in waves in temporal larger distance so that the people think they're out of the woods only to die at the end of the streets while trying to escape the inferno? This is a sly move. Worth of the damn Nazis, but not of us!"
"Robert…"
"I always thought that we were better than Hitler and his fellows. That we follow the code of honor and haven't forgotten what mercy means. Especially when it comes to civilians and not military targets. But, in the end, he rubbed off on us. Now we embark the same sinister and inhumane game this cursed bubble-brain plays."
Butler groaned. "Dammit, Hogan, you're not a schoolboy. You're long enough in the Service to know that sometimes harsh decisions have to be made and that you can't play fair all the time. Especially not during a war. 'Operation Thunderclap' was planned since last summer. A large-scaled mission of several heavy air raids to break the Germans' resistance. I know it sounds harsh, but after Hitler showed neither honor, nor mercy when he shot his damn new rockets at Belgium and England, retaliatory strikes were the only possible answer. He spread terror and death through the hit towns and villages. He didn't care how many civilians would die as long as he can prove his strengths."
A snort escaped Robert. "And you accepted his challenge and play dirty now, too. Doing what he did before: spreading terror. Hell, Alex, if Hitler jumps into the Spree River in Berlin, do the brass in London jump into the Thames, or what?" He shook his head, despite the fact that Butler could not see him. "Until now, this was the big difference between him and us; we knew at least some fairness and honor. We left this path last night, and you know it."
Again, there was a short moment of silence before the general sighed. "Sweet Lord, Robert, I know that Dresden holds some cultural buildings and that it is a waste to destroy them, but…"
"I don't talk about the culture buildings, Alex. Their destruction is a crime for itself, because – dammit – those monuments held value for the whole world. Yes, our ancestors left Europe and therefore also Germany mainly within the last two centuries to build a new home in the US, yet our roots are still here. This attack not only destroyed historical buildings, but also a part of the cradle of our past and history. But worse is the fact that the town was full of fugitives and wounded Wehrmacht members, which fell prey to our bombs!"
"WHAT?!" Butler gasped.
Hogan grimaced, a bitter expression was around his mouth and in his eyes. "The reporters spoke about it during the last broadcastings. Dresden was over crowded with refugees from the east and injured soldiers. Latter are the fighting enemy, okay, but this gives us no right to kill them in cold blood when they're wounded and helpless! This is NOT our way!"
The general sounded still shocked. "Robert, we had no reports that there were larger numbers of…"
"Those women, children, and wounded men camped in the streets and parks, stayed in make shift shelters and mobile hospitals," Hogan continued merciless. "Can you imagine how many of them were killed during the first two raids – and how many of them are still dying right now while we two are talking?"
"Sweet Lord," Butler whispered. "If your sources are right, then…"
"Stop this attack, Alex! I asked you the same one and a half week ago out of the same reason – and I did it NOT to heighten the chance of survival for my friends. My radio contact with you now has also nothing to do with personal feelings. Rather regard it strategically and for moral reasons. You attack towns now when its inhabitants are most vulnerable and have no chance of escaping death. It's the same as if you shoot someone from a hideout in the back, and this is not what the code of honor allows. What the brass is doing now will not only bring the war to a new level of inhumanity and insanity we avoided from our side until now, it can change everything!"
"What do you mean?" Butler asked tensed, knowing that he could trust Hogan's judgement. Robert had been chosen for the mission 'Unsung Heroes' because Butler and the other generals knew that the young colonel looked through all eventualities, pondered all given facts, regarded them from different point of views and only then acted. And, this much Butler had to admit, his chosen son had a damn good gut feeling.
Hogan snorted. "How do you think the world will react if it becomes known that we destroyed one of the most important cultural towns in Europe, killing thousands and thousands of innocent people, fugitives and casualties without any military target?! It'll backfire at us one way or another. And even if the books are written by the winners, this particular attack will leave a bade of shame on us for decades, if not centuries!"
For a moment, Butler was silent, trying to stomach everything he had heard. Then he took a deep breath and said quietly, "Robert, I can understand that you're angry. And I personally agree that this one mission should have been considered more carefully. But you're mistaken if you think that there were no military targets."
"Of course there are certainly a few dispositions of the Wehrmacht and SS – or the 'glorious' Volkssturm," Hogan scoffed. "But they certainly don't warrant the many thousands of dead men, women, and children, and the devastation of cultural monuments on such a large scale! As far as I know, we – the US – the Brits, and dozens of other countries signed the contract of Hague Convention. I think you know article 22 that had been modified after the foundation of the different air force departments: 'Air bombing as a method of terrorizing civilian people and the destruction of private belongings of non-military character is forbidden.' Non-military character, Alex! Now tell me what makes Dresden an exception that you raze this town and kill its people without any mercy?"
In London, Butler sighed. He could understand his protegee's fury. Hell, he himself belonged to those generals who had voted against this mission. A lot of the American staff officers had tried to stop Churchill's and Roosevelt's decision, supported by the British House of Lords, whose members were against this kind of inhumane air war for almost two years now. But their voices were unheard. The latest reports they had gotten from Dresden had sealed the town's fate.
"Robert," he began calmly, ignoring the younger man's insolent behavior towards him. He understood his chosen son, who had a far too big heart. You can not live in a country for three years – even as a prisoner and smuggled-in spy – and not get attached to its people at least a little bit. "In January, British Intelligence told us that the Nazis are able to send 42 more divisions to the Russian Front despite the fact that we're able to force them to retreat from the conquered countries. That was crucial for the whole war."
"I know – after all, my men and I delayed three divisions by sending an avalanche down their way." Robert growled.
"Yes, it was a very welcomed act on your part," Alex nodded. "But three division could be delayed and stopped by our air fighters. 39 could still be built and sent against our Russian Allies. Colonel General Antonow practically begged us to do something or his men and he would maybe face defeat. And you know what that would mean. Not only for the war, but especially for the people in the countries we were already able to liberate. At the same time, our Intelligence reported that the Wehrmacht is changing a part of Dresden into a fortress. Along the Elbe River at the historical side of the town may developments and military fit outs have been already done to stop the Russians and us. Parallel, they're storing ordnances and supplies for the Wehrmacht in the east, and the station in Friedrichstadt in the south of the center has become a turnstile for the Reich's trains. Dresden was about to become the main bastion of the Nazis for their counter strike in the east – something we couldn't allow to happen. This is the reason for our attacks now."
A groan was to hear, then Hogan's voice answered, "I understand the strategically importance Dresden got because of all of this, but do you have to burn down the whole town – killing certainly most of the citizens and fugitives? With three attacking waves, no less? Don't tell me a few heavy weapons, some storage halls, and a few trains are an excuse for this madness and waste!"
Butler clung to patience – because this was Robert Hogan, his protegee. Every other officer would have been in deep water by now, but Butler ignored protocol once again.
"There are also weapon facilities within Dresden's downtown. Small ones, no doubt, and well hidden in backyards, but their output is remarkable. They were undiscovered until a few weeks ago, and they have a greater output than many larger factories. Then the collecting point of the railways in Friedrichstadt…the whole success of our allies in the east depends on stopping the Nazi's reinforcement, and Dresden was becoming one of the hub cities of it."
Under Stalag 13 in the tunnels, Hogan grimaced. "I understand. Yet I don't think this all was reason enough to kill thousands of people and to destroy a whole culture metropole! Maybe a few direct assaults done by the Underground cells would have had the same result, but without so many victims. Dammit, Alex, this went too far. Not always the end justifies the means. What happened and still happens there is an act of a war crime."
He heard Butler sighing for the uncounted time. "Tell this Hitler, who terrorizes Europe for almost six years now and did the same to hundreds of places. Hell, he gave order to raze Paris last year while we still fought in Normandy, and only because some of his generals' refusal to give into this madness the town was spared! He razed Warsaw, killed more than half of its inhabitants and forced the rest into working camps. The Red Army liberated a ghost town so to say. The SS-men massacred thousands and thousands of civilians all over Europe in villages and towns…"
"And because of Hitler's brutal misdeeds, we decided to play in the same league now, Alex? A crime is not less a crime because it's done by men in different uniforms." He rubbed his forehead. "At least tell me that this third attack is the last one." Silence. A silence that hung strongly in the air. "No, please no! You're going to kill the last survivals who'll certainly try to dig out their family members and friends with bare hands as soon as the stones are cold enough to be touched at all. Our boys did enough by hunting the people down the river banks and within the parks. For the Lord's Mercy, Alex, try to stop it! The world will not forgive the Allies in this horror despite the tactical reasons!"
Again, there was only silence on the line, before Butler breathed, "Given those rumors about our boys hunting down people along the river's shore, I'll make certain that this will be investigated. But concerning everything else, the world maybe shocked about this particular attack, but the world will never forgive what Hitler and his fellows did concerning a certain ethical minority within Germany and the conquered countries. I spoke shortly with Roosevelt after he returned from the Crimea, and I had a longer talk with Prime Minster Churchill on Monday." The undertone in his voice changed slightly, but recognizable for those who knew him. "What do you know about Auschwitz?"
Hogan frowned. "A large prisoner camp in the seized Poland. Many Polish people as well as Gypsies and Jews are locked up there and are forced into labor work. A few reports within the last year accuse the Nazis of abusing and killing prisoners there, and…"
"Those rumors are not only true – the reality is the evilest thing I've ever learned about," Butler interrupted him. "As it became clear that the Red Army cannot be stopped at the end of last year, the Nazis tried to destroy everything while they vacated the camp – the word 'facility' fits better. Yet they left enough traces to reveal their monstrous misdeeds." He took a deep breath. "Colonel General Kurotschkin, who commanded the 322nd infantry division, gave a detailed report. Even in my most sinister nightmares I never would have imagined something this terrible. The Nazis have murdered hundreds of thousands of prisoners in Auschwitz – like at an assembly belt. Those who were still strong enough had to work 'til they died of exhaustion, hunger, or sickness. The rest of them were sent to gas chambers shortly after their arrival."
Every color had drained from Hogan's face. "What?" He breathed, his voice failed him.
"You heard me." Butler's voice sounded hoarse by now. "We learned about it two weeks ago. They masked gas chambers as shower chambers, in which the prisoners were led, locked them up and then – instead of water – came the gas. Zyklon B – a cyan hydric-gas that originally was used as a pesticide in Europe and even in California before it was abused by the Nazis for a complete different purpose: to murder people ferociously. The damn gas mixes up the cellular respiration, the people suffocate while their bodies chemically burn from the inside out. The death fight lasts around 15 minutes. 15 minutes of agonizing dying – just imagine! The walls of the 'shower-chambers' are covered with scratches and other marks of hundreds of thousands of desperate fingers as the people tried to claw a way out of the execution rooms. Churchill brought photos from his meeting with Roosevelt and Stalin last Sunday. I vomited like a bloody flying beginner after his first flight lesson!"
"Oh my God," Robert croaked, feeling his stomach churning.
"The Russians found burnt down crematoriums, which held even larger gas chambers in the cellars," Alexander continued. "They also found pit firings in which the corpses were burnt. And they found mass graves. Dozens of them. They are still digging out the mortal remains which weren't destroyed during the burning. Kurotschkin gave a modest estimate of the number of victims. The Nazis must have murdered over one million people there – if not more."
"Jesus!" Hogan tasted bile in his mouth, while ice crept through his veins. Alone the imagination was too terrible to think of it clearer. He gulped down his stomach contents, which were about to rise in him. He felt Kinch stepping beside him and laying a hand on his shoulder. Obviously he looked bad enough to worry his friends. But right now, he could not take any consideration of them.
"The victims were mainly Jews from East Germany, Poland, Hungary, and other conquered countries in the east, but also Gypsies, Polish people and political prisoners, as well as POWs – mainly Russian ones. Kurotschkin's men found thousands of dresses and trousers, shoes, and tons of human hair. 6,500 prisoners had been left to die as the Nazis evacuated the camp. The men, women, and children were still there and barely alive as the Russians came and liberated both camps Auschwitz consists of – one in Monowitz. The main-camp in Birkenau. Hundreds of them didn't survive the following days and died of exhaustion and starvation despite the Russian's intense attempts to save them. For those people, the help came too late."
Hogan closed his eyes, while he continued to listen to his mentor's narrations.
"Those who made it told us about the horror that happened there within the last four years. Guards with gas masks got the killed people out the gas chambers when the last noises finally had died down, removed gold teeth, jewelries, and hair, and brought the corpses to the pit firings and crematoriums. Obviously, it made those SS-men sick too, because none of them worked for more than a few weeks there before they were replaced. The life itself in the camp must have been one living nightmare for the prisoners. The barracks held more than 400 of them at once, who got barely food, no medical care, and often had to sleep naked. And to top the bestial crimes, camp doctors ran experiments on them they often died of or were killed afterwards." He caught his breath and obviously struggled with his self control.
"And now tell me, who did and still does the crimes here." Butler sounded calmer now, after he got some of the horror off his chest he inwardly fought with since he learned details about it. "There is absolutely no doubt left that the same happens in Dachau, Coldlitz, and all the other camps which are called 'concentration-camps'. Hell, they even call some camps 'extermination camps' which have only one purpose: to kill people continuously."
Hogan had lowered his head, his right hand clamped around the microphone strong enough to turn his knuckles white. He felt his friends' gazes hanging on him, while Kinch squeezed his shoulder, but he could not look at them in the moment. There was only one thought circling in his mind and soul for a few seconds: those monsters! Those God damn monsters! Those guards and executers, doctors and other swine were bare of any humanity. Without any soul! Yes, soldiers killed – especially during war. But it was something different if you do it during combat, or if you murder unarmed, helpless, and innocent people en mass.
Those beasts deserved any punishment possible. They deserved to suffer.
Yet…the German people in the towns did not do those misdeeds. They did not murder all those men, women, and children. Hogan could not acquit them wholly, because their looking away and ignorance made them guilty in a certain way, too. But they were not the killers. They were not the one who did all this, yet they were taken to the woodshed.
He moistened his lips.
"So, these attacks on the civilian parts of Berlin and now Dresden are a kind of revenge?" He asked quietly. "Killing two birds with one stone to stop Germany's war industry and to avenge the murdered prisoners?"
"It's not the primary reason, but…it made the decision easier to lower any consideration of the citizens," Butler trailed off and sighed.
Despite everything Robert had just learned, his deep anchored Christian belief made him utter the next words. "You can't amend the wrong by paying back with wrongness. What the SS did there, is…there are no words which fit. But the German women, children, and old men in the towns don't know about the horrible things their regime did and still does. Yes, they chose Hitler as their chancellor, but most of them didn't look through his real intentions until it was too late…just like we did. And they are feeling the lash the bubble-beard and his fellows swing down on them. Every day now. Yesterday, German women were called to enter the Volkssturm, nourishment was reduced by 10 %, boys over the age of 16 are forced into the Service. Gestapo roams the street, smelling traitors everywhere; SS-men terrorize the towns and villages. The people in this country are already paying the price for their naiveté and blindness, Alex. Without that, we kill them in their thousands during air raids, which are not only aimed on military targets, but also on the people's demise."
"I know this, Robert. I know this. The other officers know this. The President and the Prime Minister know this. But if we don't force Hitler on his knees, then…"
"The Chiefs are mistaken if they think this will speed up the victory. 'Operation Thunderclap' is ought to fail because you won't be able to break Hitler's resistance like this. I'm living in this country, Alex, and I hear enough broadcastings and get newspapers from the Underground to realize this. Hitler becomes crazier day by day – and instead of gaining support from the German civilians by showing mercy and encouraging them to stand up against the madman, you drive them even more into the corner until they see no other way anymore than to fight till death. You can attack as many towns as you want, burn them down. Heavens, you can destroy the whole country until no man or damn dog is still alive – Hitler won't give in! He doesn't care about 'his' people, he'd rather watch them all die than surrendering. So it's up to the brass in London to decide the Germans' fate: extinction or survival. It's not only a matter of defeating those maniacs anymore, but also how history will justify us later. Are we better than the Nazis, or have they driven us to the same level of mercilessness and inhumanity they display every day?"
A low groan was to hear. "I share this opinion, Robert. I know that we're approaching very fast a kind of crossway we never thought to reach, yet here we are. I agree with you concerning many arguments you pointed out. Mercilessness was never my style, but..."
"I'm aware of it, Alex. After all, I know you too well. So use your influence to make the brass see that they are about to play the whole warfare into Hitler's hands, because any eventual rebellion within Germany will never happen if the people here think the Allies are going to kill them no matter what they do. Cologne, Frankfurt, Munich, Berlin…everything can be justified with stopping the war machinery and to destroy military targets. But what you did in Dresden will come back to you and will slap the brass in the face. The world will not care for a Nazi's attempt to change the town into a bastion. The lost monuments and many, many dead people – especially casualties and escapees – will tilt the mood. Mark my words. In a few days, there will be many people who point their fingers at you in London enraged; something Hitler will use to his advantage to get former opponents on his side. This is a risk we can't take. Not a few steps before we reach the final line."
In London, Butler – who had sit down in front of the radio by now – rubbed his forehead with his free hand. To tell the truth, the whole talk had increased his already stinging headache a lot, but he could not blame his protégée of adding more problems to his shoulders. Deep inside, he was proud of Robert for standing up for his regards like this – and he was relieved that the war hadn't twisted the younger man's character to something dark and sinister like it was done to so many other officers and common soldiers. He had known that Robert harbored strong humanity – another reason he had supported the idea to train him in the spy business and to make him 'Papa Bear'. Because like this, he could be certain that Hogan's missions in Germany did not turn into more bloodshed than absolutely necessary. To spare potential victims was something they both had in common. He could understand his protegee's shock and anger concerning both large topics they just discussed.
And that Hogan still demanded that those murderous attacks on the German civilians should stop, despite everything he learned a few minutes ago, proved to Butler that the brass indeed was going too far. Robert was right; if they continued like this, they would not be much better than those they were battling.
"Concerning the world's regard of this mission, we'll see how the people react," he said quietly, but firmly. "Concerning further attacks like the ones done now, I and a few of my colleagues will try to change the others' opinion…but I can't promise you anything."
He heard Robert breathing deeply. "This is all I ask of you, Alex. I want those monsters caught and punished just like you do, but the civilians aren't responsible for these bestial crimes. So don't let them pay the bill. We're still Christians, and if others follow the devil and turn into demons, we should hunt THEM and not the people who hadn't any chance to stop the evilness – especially when they have no knowledge about it."
Butler swore something beneath his breath and closed his eyes. He almost hated it when Robert used his ultimate 'weapon' on him – Christian rules and believes. The younger man knew exactly that he got him with this, as if it was necessary to make him at least try to change the brass' opinion to more humanity. Hell, he could understand his colleagues that they were enraged and gave a fuck of German civilians in the moment. Yes, staff officers should stay neutral and should not be led by emotions, but dammit, they were all human. And after they learned firsthand from Roosevelt and Churchill what really happened in these blasted 'camps', they all had wished to avenge the hundreds of thousands of victims. Yet Robert was right; those murderers had to burn in Hell. Not non-involved civilians, fugitives above all.
"I'll speak with our staff and the others. And you should prepare your new German friend that the attack isn't over. If I remember his file correctly, he was born in Leipzig. I think what happened to Dresden hit him hard – and is one of the reasons you got that little fit." He heard the younger man clearing his throat, and added quickly, "Don't deny it, I know how you react when one of your friends is hurting. You're a damn mother hen, Hogan, so stop ruffling your feathers. Tell him I'm sorry for the loss he certainly feels, but maybe he understands us better when he learns of everything."
"Thanks, Alex. I don't think he'll be ready for the whole truth at the moment because he really mourns for Dresden. And to add more sorrow to it by telling him of the shame many Krauts have brought upon themselves is nothing I want to do just yet. But I'll speak with him later about everything. Just please, try to stop any more assaults. The town is already in flames. You can't gain anymore advantages by spreading more fire through it."
"Maybe I can convince the brass to delay the next air raid so that the people have a chance to get the casualties and themselves out of town. We would have to involve the Underground then to warn the people, but this can be eventually done. And before I forget it, one thing of advice from me: work at your tone, son! We two certainly will have a talk when you're back in London or the US, so prepare yourself for getting a thick ear!" He warned him not too seriously, yet sternly
"Aye, sir."
"Don't 'sir' me, you rascal! We both know that you have a damn big problem with showing respect towards your superiors. Go and comfort your German friends – and be ready to receive some new missions within the next few days. You are healed enough for a few tasks, aren't you?" He cursed himself as he heard the concern in his voice while speaking the last words. Dammit, he really had a weak spot for this oversized churl with the mind of a genius.
"Yes, I am ready for new tasks. I'm already rusting, so give me something to do."
"Hm, it certainly would distract you from melting with too much pity, no doubt. You'll get a few jobs soon. Be safe, Robert. Bird Roc out." He switched off the radio and let the microphone fall on the table.
"Is Hogan about to switch sides?" The question was asked by General Vandenberg, the commanding officer of the 9th Air Corps Squadron, who was also a member of the Combined Chiefs of Staff that had its headquarters in London since September 1943.
With his 48 years, he was the youngest general since Ulysses Grant, and was a strategical genius who had planned the most successful air battles over North Africa and now over Northern Europe. He had no problem with joining the squadron and troops at the front and had a large share of battles during the last few months. But now he was in London after the meeting of Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin to organize the next missions. He had heard how one of the sergeants had murmured 'Papa Bear is on the line for you' to Butler, and after almost five minutes, he became suspicious what took his colleague so long. Usually radio talks, even by using safe frequencies, were held short. Especially when they were done with Underground agents. Something had to be wrong, otherwise Alexander would not stay so long away from the gathering, at which the whole Chief Staff and the British Prime Minister listened to the proceed of the attack against Dresden.
Leaving the briefing room, Vandenberg had stepped into the smaller radio room next door and listened long enough to the one sided talk to realize the topics and the reason for 'Papa Bear's' call. Obviously the colonel was furious because of "Mission Chevin", and the general felt unease rising in him. Was the man switching sides after almost three years being in the enemy's country?
"No, never!" Alexander said strongly and rose. "Rather the Thames is left without water or the Niagara Falls dry out before Robert Hogan becomes a traitor. But he is a compassionate man with a big heart…and as it seems, we made a big mistake." He left the smaller radio room and returned with a curious Vandenberg to the other chamber, where most members of the Chief Staff sat. Butler met the asking glance of the bulk, balding man in a civilian dark suit who sat at the end of the table and smoked one of his famous cigars: Winston Churchill, the British Prime Minister who was already a living legend.
Butler's return interrupted any talk and report from the radiomen around them, who updated them about the air raid's proceeding, and he used the pause to let off some frustration.
"How the hell did we miss that this blasted town was over crowded with fugitives and casualties?!"
TBC…
Well, I told you that this chapter will be a downer. I did a lot of research on both 'topics', and new insights, which has been published today, forced me to edit this chapter a lot.
At this point, I – as a German – want to express my deepest condolence for all the people and their descendance, who suffered in the concentration- or execution camps, and have experienced or learned of them first-hand. I tried to refer to this darkest part of our whole history as neutrally as possible, even if I can imagine that the members of the Russian 322nd infantry division, who liberated Auschwitz, had been horrified like all the others, who came to help the survivals and revealed the evilness that happened there. To really voice everything, would be too much for this story, but at least I wanted to bring this crime into it, because what happened there and WWII are tightly connected with each other.
Concerning the destruction of Dresden: The rumor of strafers hunting down citizen or of the Allies using napalm-bombs, exist even today. Investigations with new technics couldn't confirm, but also couldn't really tell them off. I think, many things which happened in the night from the 13th to the 14th February 1945 and the day after, will remain a secret for all times. Yet a few things are brutal reality – like people being pulled into the flames, the extensive heat and the large devastation.
The family of my father comes from Dresden. He himself was two years old, as the big attack happened, and he, his brother and my grandparents only survived because they lived in Dresden-Streelen that is more on the west-hillside, approx. 15 km away from the historical part of the town, yet on the same river-side. My grandmother told me a lot of those two (three) days, and how she was forced to watch the town, she loved so much, burning down. The three children of my grand-aunt died that night; the wall in the cellar they hid broke down, burying only the children. My grand-aunt was out of town with my grand-uncle to gather food; leaving her children with her neighbors. Both saw from afar the attack and walked back to Dresden (more than 20 km). They only were able the street they lived in, two days later – the house they lived in, collapsed. They dug out their children with bare hands – my grand-aunt was never the same afterwards, like my granny told me.
I think, this little example shows what really happened to the town and its people at this night and the day after.
The story of Klink's uncle marrying in the original Lady's Church is a mirror of my family. My grandparents married there 1928. Regrettable my granny never saw the re-rising of the Lady's Church. She died twenty years before the rebuilding was finished, yet I visited this church two times by now. The originally cross is exhibited in the church interior – twisted, blackened, sans the gold it once was coated with, but still recognizable. It was found beneath the debris – and held the original construction plans so that the church could be rebuilt. The Lady's Church remained a hill of debris during the time of the DDR (as a 'memorial'), but every still existing stone and one of the portals, which remained standing, were used to complete the church. If you watch pictures at the web, you may wonder of the black stones and window-parts. Well, these are the original stones from the original church.
Thank the Lord, the historical part of Dresden was completely rebuild after the re-union of West- and East-Germany. The houses around the Lady's Church are only wearing the façade of the baroque epoch, behind them modern buildings offering flats, restaurants and shops. The castle is finished, the Semper-Opera (I visited, too) is re-built as well as all the other old buildings, yet only one cultural monument remained undestroyed during the attack: the Procession of Princes. It's a large picture of all Saxonian Princes, made of Meissner china tiles, which build a kind of mosaic on the back of the castle's tartan track. Only four or fife tiles burst in the heat of the flames, all the others were only sooted – a miracle given the temperature of almost 900 °C within the streets.
Sorry, I got carried away, but 'Dresden' is still a kind of traumata for us Germans, because none of us knew about the military development there and we all thought – until a few years ago – that the Allies' attack was only targeting for our soul, so to say.
I hope, the chapter was nonetheless satisfying for you and that you maybe understand my reasons to bring up those two topics within a genre that originally was 'only' a entertaining parody.
The next chapter will be the second part of this theme, while parallel our two love-birds give and need comfort – the latter especially from Klink's side – before the big moments comes and Hogan returns to Barracks 2, what is the beginning of the second part of the story.
I really hope, the chapter met your approval – not only concerning the two real historical topics, but also how Hogan reacted. I always saw in him a man, who has great fairness in him and whose temper didn't allow any hesitation to do or to say what is on his mind or what he thinks is right (a good thing that Butler is more like a father to him, than a superior, or he really would be in deep water).
I wish you all a nice weekend, and I really curious what you think of the update, so please do not hesitate to leave some reviews.
Love,
Yours Starflight
