The sun had already been up for a few hours when we reached Rhodes. The battered fishing boat pulled up alongside the dock where we were met by Luther and several soldiers.
I attempted to gently wake the boy, but he awoke with a start. His eyes went wide and I could see the fear lurking behind his forced bravado.
"We have arrived where you will be staying for the next few days," I explained without telling him exactly where he was. "It is only a short walk to the main residence. You will be very comfortable there."
He looked up at me with deep eyes, the question lurking there unmistakable.
"No, I will not be staying with you," I answered trying not to put any emotion in my voice. The look of betrayal sprang to his eyes. "I need to return to my unit which is stationed elsewhere," I attempted to explain. "There will be other German officers who will see to your safety."
I did not believe my own lie and neither did the boy. What had I delivered the boy to? I couldn't stop myself for remembering the Frenchman murdered by the SS. He was once a son to someone, too.
"Now, come along. They are waiting for you," I said, attempting to sound stern.
I had already packed my few belongings in my bag and slung it over my shoulder. The guard who had relieved Klein a few hours ago escorted us up the narrow stairs and unto the deck.
Donis was already on deck and appeared to be none the worse for his drug use the prior evening. He greeted me warmly, too warmly in my opinion.
"Good morning, Hauptmann! A beautiful day, isn't it? A fine day to be alive."
I ignored Donis, keeping the boy close to me as we walked down the plank to the dock. However, the captain would not let it drop and called after me. "Don't forget our conversation from last evening, Hauptmann! Remember I have connections who will always deliver, anytime, anyplace."
The soldiers stepped forward to claim the boy. I felt uneasy for the boy, an emotion I could not show in front of him.
The guards started to take him away when I stopped them.
I bent down so I was at eye level with the boy.
"Take care. And remember, no telling anyone our secret," I gently chided him as I held a finger to my lips. I touched him lightly on the shoulder before standing up and motioning for the guards to lead him away.
He was led away by a beefy guard. The boy walked quietly, looking over his shoulder every so often at me before continuing. He then stopped completely and turned around to look at me. A faint smile came to his lips and he held his hand up shyly to wave good-bye with just his fingertips
A part of me crumpled inside as to what I was responsible for doing to him. I waved back at him returning his smile, hiding my inner turmoil. The guard then roughly indicated for the boy to continue walking. I watched until he entered the mansion, leaving my sight.
It would be the final time I would see the boy until years after the war had ended.
The moment was interrupted and spoiled by Luther.
"A touching moment, Dietrich. Very touching indeed," he said with amusement. "But sentimentality has no place in our line of business."
I turned to face him, my eyes blazing. "He is nothing more than a boy. Surely you can afford him some compassion as to what he was drawn into against his will and the pawn he will be over the next several days."
"May I remind you, Dietrich, of the young German boys like him being killed at very minute by Allied bombing raids. If one young Tommy needs to be sacrificed for the betterment of the Reich, then so be it."
Luther's words were made much worse by the serious expression on his face. What a Nazi puppet, what a bastard soldier, I decided. Had all of the decent Wehrmacht soldiers been killed in the field, with only these puppets surviving, protected far behind the lines?
"You know, Dietrich? I frankly never expected to see you again." Luther shook his head. "I can't believe you actually succeeded."
"I'm glad I was able to have disappointed you, Luther. But it is as I had promised you: I returned with the boy and all of my men. It isn't the first time I have succeeded against high odds and serious doubts."
Luther merely nodded his head in slight contrition.
"Is Oberst von Graff available? I would like to brief him immediately so I and my men may return to our unit in France." My words were blunt, the anger in them evident.
The adjutant proceeded to look me up and down, and I could see his lip slightly curl at my appearance.
"The Oberst is out inspecting the fortifications and is expected to return within the next few hours. We expected you later. As for returning to France, you are scheduled for a transport plane which leaves early tomorrow evening. Until then, you and your men may enjoy all the hospitality Rhodes has to offer."
Luther's eyes looked me over quickly.
"I would highly suggest for you to clean up and make yourself presentable before briefing the Oberst. You can't possible expect to meet with him in your current state. A room will be made available for you to wash and change into a clean uniform. Since the mission was successfully completed, there is no reason for to remain with your men. You will be staying in von Graff's residence this evening as you agreed to previously."
A small part of me was suspicious if I was being deliberately separated from my men. Or was it merely important for von Graff to flaunt the new found wealth he possessed?
"I have been in the field for several days. I believe it is expected my uniform would reflect the reality of the situation." Luther merely looked at me, not accepting my explanation.
"I was issued only a single tropical uniform when I arrived. What would you expect me to wear?" I asked incredulously. Why were so many senior officers obsessed by perfectly clean uniforms? There were more important issues for their obsessions.
"Trust me, Dietrich, it will be unacceptable to the Oberst. I will have your uniform immediately laundered and pressed and your boots polished." I noticed him glance quickly at my cover, examining my hair from what he could see of it. "I will also send a barber to your quarters.
"I highly suggest we leave immediately so you may clean up. The Oberst's arrival time can be unpredictable and he does not care to be kept waiting.'
"I understand," I agreed sarcastically. "It would be rather unprofessional for me to have the Oberst be kept waiting while I have my hair barbered."
Luther began walking away before I stopped him. "And my men?"
"They are well taken care of. I will see you to your quarters now. As a thank you from Herr Oberst, you have the use of them until you depart."
I barely nodded before following him, returning to the hulking mansion.
I could see the look of respect when we passed the guards in the hallways. They knew my team had been successful against excessive odds.
Luther led me into a spacious room on the second floor.
"Leave your uniform and boots outside the door. I will have them immediately tended to. The barber will arrive shortly. You have less than two hours before the Oberst returns. After you are cleaned up," he looked me up and down again, much as if I was horse he was purchasing, "I will escort you to von Graff's office. You will wait there until he arrives. Your time is free to do with it what you want."
Luther suddenly gave me an unexpected wink. "Do you desire 'entertainment' for this evening? I can arrange for it, if you like. I imagine you would care to relax and unwind with a woman after your success."
"No," I said after a slight hesitation. I always found sex to be extremely intense and satisfying after I had successfully completed a mission. Although I deeply desired and needed the physical release tonight, I did not want to betray Agathe.
Luther noticed my hesitation and misread why I had declined his offer. "I can assure you the Oberst won't mind. He has already given his approval. After all, he has various women visit him on a regular basis. He'll probably request some tonight to celebrate the mission's success," Luther added with a wide grin.
I shuddered at the thought of being intimate with a woman von Graff had already known, remembering the incident from the academy. I had already been placed in the awkward position of sharing a woman with him and I didn't care in the slightest for it to be repeated.
"You've definitely earned the reward of physical pleasure. A young girl? Or perhaps a boy is more to your liking?" Luther continued pressing.
I found myself coloring at his last offerings. I looked at him with disgust.
Luther laughed at my reaction. "We're fairly open here on Rhodes, Dietrich. The Berlin brass never visit here. What happens here, stays here."
What the hell else was happening here, I thought. More and more I was looking forward to leaving Rhodes once and for all.
"I will spend the evening quietly relaxing. Alone," I reiterated.
"Suit yourself," Luther said turning to leave.
I immediately went to the French doors and opened them, letting in fresh air to relieve the stuffiness. The room was large and comfortable and not as overly decorated as the rest of the mansion.
I removed my boots and proceeded to strip down, placing the articles outside the door as instructed. I then took a long, leisurely shower, allowing the cold water to rejuvenate me from the fogginess of my little sleep. The barber had already arrived when I exited the shower. Thankfully, I had wrapped myself with a towel.
"Herr Hauptmann, I apologize for interrupting your bathing, but I was instructed to let myself in and wait for you," he said, as he removed his cap. I noticed his patched, threadbare clothes and immediately understood that he was probably a local being held by the Nazis to forcibly work. I waved his apology aside, knowing it was not of his doing.
I nodded, not wanting to cause him any more difficulties. "Very well." I gave him a wave of my hand and sat down.
He wrapped me with a large sheet, fastening it behind my neck. He proceeded to give me an excellent close shave, followed by a neat hair trim.
"Nicely done," I responded honestly, looking at myself in a hand mirror. The barber gave a slight smile of appreciation before cleaning up. I went to my bag which I had casually thrown aside and withdrew some Reichmarks.
"Thank you," I said trying to hand him the money.
He shrank back, not accepting it. "Herr Hauptmann, if I am caught with it, they will believe that I stole it from you while I was waiting and then . . ." he made a slashing action across his throat.
"If anyone questions you regarding it, inform them that I gave it to you as a thank you for an excellent job. I can be contacted for confirmation if necessary."
"Thank you, thank you!" he said profusely, tipping his cap. "It is greatly appreciated and will be a big help to my family."
My uniform and boots were returned as the barber was leaving and I quickly dressed. It was not long afterwards Luther appeared to escort me to von Graff's office. I will be glad when I was finished with von Graff and everyone connected to his mission, I thought darkly, as we quickly walked to the other side of the building.
"Wait here, Dietrich," Luther instructed me. "The Oberst should arrive momentarily."
I left my report in the middle of his desk, ready for his review. I sat for a few minutes, but then decided to look around the office to help keep me awake.
I went to stand in front of von Graff's desk, looking up at Hitler's overdrawn portrait. On the desk was an equally overdone bust of the Fuhrer. I contemplated both of them, casually smoking and blowing an occasional plume of smoke at them.
And these were considered art but the O'Keefe was not? I was sickened at the thought.
I walked around the office to see if there was anything else of interest before deciding to sit on the divan to break my cycle of restlessness.
I proceeded to wait an additional thirty minutes for von Graff, smoking one cigarette after another to relieve my boredom and to keep me awake. I would have loved to doze off in the chair, but it would only make my tiredness worse. When I thought I would be unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I heard an automobile pull up outside the house. The soldiers began coming to attention.
Von Graff had arrived. My exhaustion immediately left me.
It took von Graff only a few minutes to arrive at his office. He strode in briskly, his mind clearly focused on the mission. I came to attention and smartly saluted him.
"Any news from Allied command?" von Graff asked brushing past me to sit behind his desk. He picked up my report and began skimming through it.
"Nothing so far, Sir."
It had been less than half a day since we had returned. I believed it was far too early for the Allies to have reacted to the boy's kidnapping. But they would react soon, very soon.
I slightly paused before delivering the next piece of information. I believed von Graff should be aware of the boy's condition before he discovered it on his own.
"Herr Oberst, the boy didn't speak once throughout the whole operation."
"Oh?" von Graff asked, looking up from my report. His expression showed disinterest.
"The boy is a mute."
Von Graff looked amused at my concern for the boy.
"What's the matter, Captain? Not happy with your work?"
I kept my face passive while the loathing rose within me.
You arrogant bastard, I thought. You have no skill or expertise on the battlefield. You put others at risk to complete your dirty work while you enjoy your stolen riches and whores.
"I still believe it would have been possible to rescue General Schilling with a small raiding party and avoided all of this."
"We don't even know where they are keeping him," von Graff replied, obviously annoyed.
"I believe Intelligence could have discovered where," I countered.
"Perhaps, but by then the news of his capture would have reached Germany. Imagine the effect on the morale of the German people, that a foremost general had been captured, let alone the effect on the Fuhrer."
"Perhaps we should not second guess how the Fuhrer will react to the reality of the war situation?" I professionally stated as a question while meaning it as a direct response.
Von Graff looked like I had slapped him. "Hauptmann Dietrich, I shall pretend I did not hear your last remark." I looked at him without fear, still smoking. I stood by what I had said.
"When can I return to my unit?"
"You are free to return immediately. However, arrangements have already been made for you and your men to leave on a transport plane early tomorrow evening. In the meantime, please accept my hospitality on behalf of yourself and your men."
"Thank you," I said strictly out of politeness.
I took a drag on my cigarette before asking my question.
"The boy must be very important. Who is he?" I asked. I had to know the boy's identity.
I stood over von Graff, weaving my cigarette through my fingers. The tone of my voice was firm. I would not be put off this time.
Von Graff hesitated a moment before answering. "He is Miles Simmons, the son of British General Geoffrey Simmons.
I almost snorted in disdain. Now I understood why the boy had been kidnapped and not his father. While also a general, Simmons was not of the same caliber as Schilling. In fact, I would categorize Simmons as a minor general. The Allies would have never agreed to exchange Schilling for Simmons. But for the boy? Perhaps, but unlikely.
"I would like to visit the boy before I leave, Herr Oberst."
Von Graff looked at me with amusement. "There is no reason for you to visit Simmons, Dietrich. Your part of the mission is complete. You are to leave him be. I can assure you that he will be well taken care of."on
I said nothing, forcing myself to bite my tongue.
"As I thought, Dietrich. Enjoy your evening. You're dismissed."
I left without saying another word to von Graff, glad to be out of his presence.
I was leaving the building when a large sedan pulled up in front. Three stunning women exited the vehicle and I had no doubts as to why they were here. I tipped my cover as a politeness even given their profession.
"You're not leaving the party before it begins, are you, Hauptmann?" one called to me with a deep laugh.
I merely gave her a smile in response. A soldier soon arrived to escort them upstairs, the one woman looking back at me to give me a wink. Yes, the celebration was already beginning for von Graff.
My men were finishing a heavy meal when I arrived at their barracks. I congratulated them on a job well done, but did not tarry. They clearly wanted to enjoy the area before their 24:00 curfew and had little desire to spend their free evening with their commander.
I had little desire to see Rhodes myself, but even less desire to return to von Graff's monstrosity of a mansion. Instead, I slowly walked the grounds, enjoying the gardens which were extensive and well done. Vaguely, I felt like a prisoner behind the high walls surrounding the estate. Darkness finally forced me to reenter the house. I retired to my room in the mansion.
A fine cold meal had been laid for me on the table. Nearby was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it. There was a note tied to the bottle's neck. "Compliments of Oberst von Graff" I read with a smirk. I was surprised to discover the champagne to be of an excellent pre-war vintage. Probably chosen by a staff member or raided from the owner's wine cellar, I imagined.
I swiftly ate the meal and took the bottle out on the balcony. I smoked a cigarette and enjoyed the champagne, looking out over the Mediterranean. It didn't take long for me to become comfortable and relaxed.
I felt an arrogant pride rise within me. I had successfully carried out my orders. I had perfectly planned and completed the mission to the highest standard. I doubted anyone, including Mueller, could have accomplished it better. Yes, my orders had been to kidnap a boy to ensure the Nazi regime's survival, but it was not of my doing. I had delivered Miles without any harm coming to him and did so by killing only one man.
As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, my mission had been unethical. Frankly, I believed it could be classified as a war crime. The mission would never fit with the warfare I had desired and envisioned as a child and later as a cadet.
What had the Nazis become to condone such an act? Or had they always been this way, the slick propaganda covering up the dirty secrets? Even worse, what had I become to be so proud at accomplishing such a mission with ease? What fate had I delivered the boy into? Had I delivered my soul when I took my oath to Hitler and the Nazis? I shook my head. I already knew the answer to my final question.
I could hear loud music coming from the far side of the manor. A woman's laugh occasionally emerged above the noise. The gaiety abruptly ended when I heard her being harshly struck. It was followed by several more slaps and a painful scream which carried in the still night air. The music soon stopped and I heard nothing else. No doubt von Graff's party was just beginning to warm up.
I listened impassively. I could only imagine the impact on the boy if he had also heard the same as I. I wanted to see how he was handling his captivity, but I had been directly ordered to stay away from him.
I suddenly became overwhelmingly tired.
It had been a long week and much had happened. I looked forward to sleeping in late tomorrow morning and pushing all my doubts aside for some welcome sleep. I threw my cigarette butt away and downed the remainder of the champagne directly from the bottle. I left the French doors open, to enjoy the fresh salt air during the night as I slept.
I stripped down and slipped into the oversized bed. The fresh, clean sheets felt heavenly against my bare skin. It didn't take long for me to relax and clear my mind. I listened to the sound of the sea briefly before falling asleep.
With the champagne and little rest over the last week, my sleep was deep and dreamless.
It was blank until the early morning hours when Sergeant Troy and the Rat Patrol visited my dreams for the first time in months.
We had returned to the North African desert. I saw Troy standing solemnly in the distance as if he was waiting for me. The three other members of the Rat Patrol stood behind him with their arms crossed. They were just as serious, none of them saying a word.
I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop myself from walking towards Troy. He then began walking towards me, meeting me half-way.
Troy smartly saluted me and after I returned it, we stood there staring at each other for several seconds, the only sound being the wind.
"Why are you here, Sergeant? Haven't you killed enough of my men? Why don't you leave me in peace? Or have you returned to finally kill me?" I demanded in a cold voice, barely able to contain my anger.
Troy did not immediately respond. When he finally spoke, his words were direct. It was the same direct dialog I had exchanged with him on countless occasions in the desert.
"Captain, I didn't come here to kill you or any more of your men. I killed the last one in the desert. This time, I will be killing another German officer's men. But you need to leave now or I will be forced to kill you and your men. There will be no survivors from your team. Leave now and I promise all of you will live to see the end of the war."
I laughed at the absurdity of his words. "You possess no power to make such a boastful promise." I suddenly became serious. "Answer me: Give me the reason for visiting me, Sergeant Troy," I ordered him. "It is as unwanted here on Rhodes as it was previously in the North African desert. You and everything regarding the desert are firmly in the past."
Troy began to speak again, his words cryptic. "Captain, I've already told you the reason why. But I'm also here to tell you that I will visit you a second time in the future, at a time when you will desperately need my help. In turn, I will ask you to visit me when I will desperately need your help after the war."
Troy's eyes were unwavering, boring into me. "When all that's finished, it'll be your choice to propose if we'll be linked together forever as brothers," he added.
I could barely contain my anger at his audacity. I took a step closer to him. I wanted to ensure Troy could hear my soft words. "I will never want any of your future visits any more than I would care to visit you. Any link I had with you was severed in the desert. I abhor and loathe all of you Americans and everything you represent. I have no desire to be a brother-in-arms with an Ami, let alone an Ami such as you."
He stood there for a moment, his head to the side examining, coolly analyzing me. He then turned his back on me, shaking his head in pity and began walking away, not wanting to have anything to do with me.
"Sergeant Troy! Goddamn you! Get back here!" I ordered him. He continued to walk away. It was one of the few times I had sworn at an enlisted man, but I was furious at Troy's insubordination even given that he was from a different army.
I tried to follow him, but my boots sunk deeply into the thick sand and I was unable to keep up with him. It suddenly began to rain heavily. The rain quickly turned the sand into deep, dark mud, the terrain changing from the desert to Europe.
I was suddenly surrounded by heavy firing, with artillery shells exploding around me. I lost my footing in the mud and staggered when I was hit twice by unseen fire. I fell to my knees and crumpled when an exploding munition almost cut me in two.
I had no strength to continue calling after Troy, but it didn't matter. He had already disappeared with his men.
I awoke with a start, sitting up in the bed, covered in a cold sweat with my heart pounding. I was confused for a moment as to where I was. It was only when I heard the breaking of the waves did I remember I was on Rhodes. I glanced over at the clock. It was still dark and a few hours before dawn.
I ran my hands through my hair. I then immediately reached for my cigarettes and lighter. I quickly lit a cigarette and took a deep drag on it. I settled back onto the pillows and exhaled a sharp plume of smoke at the ceiling. I tried to have the nicotine calm my thoughts, but I only had one thought exploding within me.
Leave.
The urge was overwhelming. I wanted, no make that desperately needed, to immediately leave Rhodes with my men. There was something off, about the island and everything else, making me extremely uneasy. I didn't experience these feelings often, but when I did, I took them seriously.
I stubbed out my cigarette. I quickly rose and dressed in my traditional gray uniform. I smartly folded the tropical uniform and left it neatly on the chair. I touched it briefly, feeling the soft cloth. I would never wear German tropical issue again.
I then gathered my few things and left the residence, briefly nodding to the guards. My curt actions almost dared them to stop me. I quickly made my way to the airfield, only a short walk away. I spoke with the communications desk and discovered a cargo plane would return to France in a little over an hour.
"Reserve space for men and myself on the plane. I will return with them shortly. In the meantime, you are to hold the plane," I ordered him.
"I will need to contact Oberst von Graff, Herr Hauptmann, for confirmation," he said with a frown. "You were scheduled to leave on this evening's transport plane."
"Feel free to contact him, Gefreiter," I bluffed. "But I would keep in mind that the Oberst was up rather late last night entertaining. In fact, he still has guests in the manor. I seriously doubt he would care to be disturbed. If you understand what I mean? I raised my eyebrows, and looked at him with a knowing look in my eyes.
The boy quickly blushed.
"I believe given the circumstances it won't be necessary for me to contact him," he suddenly said.
"I thought you would agree," I said with a slight smile. "Please send him my regards later in the morning, after my departure. Also, radio ahead to my unit notifying them. I will be returning to my sooner than anticipated."
I woke and spoke with my men briefly, telling them that there had been a change in our departure plans. I had pulled forward our departure and it was necessary for us to leave shortly. There was much grumbling and a few curses from them. Not only had I interrupted their well-earned sleep, I had cancelled their half-day furlough.
The plane was horribly cramped and we sat between the crates in the cargo hold. I frankly wouldn't have cared if we were riding on the wings. I believed it was that urgent for us to leave as soon as possible.
There was a general amusement among the Luftwaffe crew regarding us. They didn't understand the urgency as to why we would want to leave the peacefulness of Rhodes for the uncertainty of France.
I felt relief when the airplane finally lifted off the ground and banked away from Rhodes. I would rather us take our chances on it than remain on the island for what I suspected was coming.