12.6.2014
Khal has paid us a visit again today for another one of Retia's checkups. I returned home a bit early so that I could receive him, with my husband holding business hold back at the Reichstag.
Naturally the topic of the day was the massacre at Hanover. Khal said he heard it on the radio that plays in his medical office in downtown Berlin and expressed his grievances for all who had been affected. This was perhaps the deadliest terrorist attack on German soil since the Munich massacre, and here we were, us politicians, sitting in the Reichstag thinking that some extremist faction of the Middle East, such as ISIS, would make a move first. How wrong we had been. Khal found it morbidly ironic that such a feared attack would instead be committed by fellow German citizens. What had the world come to now, he wondered aloud, that citizens should attack their own fellow citizens in the interest of some abstract ideal or political organization? Foreign terrorists flying into the country to attack native citizens was one thing, but this was another one entirely.
Khal asked me if it was alright for me to disclose information about the massacre, for he had a vested interest in it: one of his more common patients was among the wounded at Hanover, and in fact he had just arrived at our residence after paying that patient of his a visit at the hospital. I asked him first how that patient was doing, and he replied that his patient's status is still critical; the medical staff were unsure whether or not he would pull through, for he was struck by four bullets that pierced both lungs, one of his kidneys, and his liver. Medically speaking, it was highly improbable that he survive his wounds long enough to be shipped to the hospital, but Khal claims to have seen more miraculous medical recoveries.
"All we can do now is pray," Khal said pensively.
Indeed. Ever since the incident, I have been receiving condolence calls from virtually every Prime Minister, President, King, Queen, or Duke throughout the continent, extending their support to the German people affected by it. I was told that there is a #prayforHanover that has hit the top trending hashtags worldwide for the past few days since the massacre by several of my secretaries.
It turned out that the USB drive that was given to us by those two American operatives indeed had a use. Police forensics units in Hanover had successfully traced the source of the bullets and weapons used by the NDP terrorists during the massacre back to the same heavy industries factory that Herr Sanford and Herr Deimos had discovered and notified Heidi that they intended to alert local police authorities and in Greifswald to the location, and Heidi reported to me about it, asking for my advice on what we ought to do, since she felt that I had more authority to decide government action about this. I decided to issue an arrest order on the owner of that factory and a seizure order on the entire factory and the contents it contained, and I deployed Jollenbeck with the USB drive as the evidence to Greifswald to assist. Jollenbeck called me earlier this evening and reported that the owner of the factory had been caught in the middle of trying to desert his factory after clearing it of the machinery and products and did not expect the police to arrive as early as they had. He is now in Greifswald police custody, and we expect him to face charges for his involvement in the massacre.
But justice is only partially served.
All throughout the morning and early afternoon while I worked in my office at the Reichstag, I answered many a call from police and military commanders asking for permission to raid known NDP centers or households that were known to shelter persons of confirmed NDP affiliations or connections. Although it was a risky decision, I decided to authorize all of them. Technically speaking, doing this meant that I was knowingly bending my authority to directly violate some of the constitutional rights that is given to the people. But after quickly consulting with a few trusted members of the Bundestag, we determined that because such police actions were directed against a specific political group with confirmed intentions of destruction and terrorism, and whose members had already demonstrated a capacity for disturbing the peace at their rallies, however nonviolent those rallies may have been, my authorization was ultimately justified. The people too would not object to police forces flushing out NDP members - any decent member of society could agree that the NDP had no place in this country.
But let us shift away from politics...I have been concentrating too much on my job due to recent events and therefore have been neglecting my family. Littorio, our Italian cook, has been teaching Max, Lebe, and Prinz Eugen how to cook pasta. I have myself, on occasion, cooked pasta, but through my friendship with our good friend Marco, I have become uncomfortably aware of how proud Italians can be of their pasta, and how some Italians can raise their noses at any form of pasta that is "incorrectly" prepared. Being knowledgeable in the preparation of German dishes myself, I understand and, to a certain degree, share their insistence on the traditional methods of preparing national cuisines, but never have I known a people who will go so far as to denounce your skill, perhaps even your existence as a cook based on a single dish. Littorio herself appears approachable and forgiving enough, but after seeing for myself how much expertise she has shown in cooking Italian dishes and pasta, which we had for dinner tonight (and it was excellent), I am now hesitant on whether or not I really ought to attempt cooking pasta. Because if I butcher it, I may be at risk of alienating our Italian ship girls. And that is perhaps the last thing I want.
Bismarck, meanwhile, came to speak with me while I spent time with my daughter in the living room. She asked if Graf Zeppelin, the newest Wunderwaffe ship girl to join the ranks, would be constructed in time to join everyone when they depart for England tomorrow night. I answered that I did not know - Gernot and I had learned of her construction at literally the same time as the rest of them. We had no prior knowledge of such fleet personnel. I mentioned that I could try to contact the Wunderwaffe staff to see how far into the construction process they were presently at, and at Bismarck's insistence, I ended up doing so. One of the members of the early night shift replied that they were not certain on the deployment of Graf Zeppelin, that they had been ordered to keep the new German carrier's existence as a ship girl a secret due to direct orders from Seal Team Six. They had meant to inform us earlier this morning, but due to the high volume of phone traffic in my office, they couldn't get a hold of me letting me know of the situation. Guaranteed, however, Graf Zeppelin would finish construction by the end of the weekend, but to finish building her in time to have her join the rest for the joint training program at Rosyth Dockyard would be asking for the best possible outcome for her construction. I relayed this to Bismarck, asking her why she was so interested in Graf Zeppelin.
She answered that in her memory, she had never fought alongside a carrier in combat before. Nazi Germany's navy was never considered too significant, despite the grandiose plans that the Fuhrer had laid down for it before the onset of the war. The fact that those same grandiose plans were reverted and the resources allocated to the Navy diverted to other areas of the military that Hitler had deemed more important for the war effort certainly did much to undermine the strength of the navy, thus in part leading to the unfinished construction of the carrier in question. It was an experience that Bismarck would be honored to have, to be able to fight alongside a carrier - and a fellow German one, no less.
At supper, Khal sat with me at the table - Gernot called to inform us that he expected to come home late, and that we ought to go ahead and have supper without him. As mentioned, dinner consisted of lovely pasta (which type I cannot say, for I am unfamiliar with anything more than a simple preparation of it), delightfully seasoned breadsticks, and an Italian seafood dish that escapes my memory; I'm sure I asked Littorio what its name was, but I cannot seem to remember right now. But no matter; what is important is that it was the most delicious Italian cooking I have tasted. I suppose if I am to sample Italian cuisine, who else better to prepare it than an Italian ship girl like Littorio?
During supper, I noticed that Khal still wears that silver pocketwatch that Gernot gave to him as a birthday present about a month after we had first made his acquaintance. He appears to be wearing it inside his breast pocket, secured by a chain that wraps around his neck like a necklace. Quite a strange way to carry around a pocketwatch, but I suppose it is strange to even carry a pocketwatch on one's person to begin with, in this modern age of smartphones, digital watches, and other tech-savvy gadgets. I asked him why he carried that thing around, and why in such a peculiar manner, too. He answered simply that he felt as though he was one of the few odd people of our time to prefer not to carry around smartphones or be so laden with modern accessories. His own office reflects this trait: his own office at his clinic in downtown Berlin contains no technological gadget other than a telephone. No computer, no smartphones or cellphones, no television, nothing. His staff in the lobby do have computers to work with, of course, and the waiting room does have a quite a large flatscreen TV for the guests, but Khal never uses these for himself. For him, a pocketwatch was the perfect accessory for him; it was one of the few things he could wear on his person that would not intrude on his own subconscious code of conduct. Not that he has anything against technological gadgets; he simply prefers to remain old-fashioned in a world that is ever changing by technology.
It appears that my daughter Retia has developed quite the close relationship with Littorio as well...in a more personal way. After dinner, once we had seen Khal off and gathered in the living room to play a few card games while Prinz Eugen and Lebe brought us all cookies and juice, Retia patted Littorio's left breast and stared up at the Italian ship girl. Quickly this scene became the center of attention, as Retia kept insisting quite adorably on feeding from Littorio, much at the Italian battleship's chagrin. We still are not certain why Retia kept trying to demand milk from Littorio's breasts, but I have a smoldering suspicion that my daughter may have been behaving this way because Littorio's chest is more...how should I say, open for invitation.
Honestly, I have no clue either. I just made that one up myself.
Littorio was deathly afraid that I would taken offense to this little incident, for I might view her with envy that my own baby would desire the milk of another woman other than her own mother, so she kept profusely apologizing to me, making me feel as though I was starring in one of those Korean dramas. I was laughing by that point and gave Littorio my permission to breastfeed Retia if she so chose, but the peer pressure from everybody else compelled her to actually do it. Now I feel quite bad for Littorio for putting her in that situation, but Retia herself seemed satisfied.
Now I sit here typing at my laptop wondering whose milk Retia finds more satisfying. Hmm, my motherly instincts are tingling...!