Chapter 16- Der Fuhrer
Falke walked down the corridor of the dorms, making his night rounds. Ever since he was a young officer, he made a habit of checking up on things before going to sleep. Besides making it easier to sleep without worrying if anything had been left undone, he found it relaxing to walk through the base late at night. Except for the muted hum of the night fighters on the airfield and the occasional murmur of the night shift skeleton crew, the peace made a welcome change from the bustle of the day.
Which made the noise coming from the destroyer dorm all the more noticeable. Shrill shouts and thumps could be heard from inside as he cautiously edged forward. He distinctly heard battle cries and orders being issued, but no weapons fire. On the other hand, if there was a Siren infiltrator, the destroyers would hardly fire their guns indoors...
Drawing his pistol, he threw the door open.
Z23 saw him first, dropping the pillow she had raised, her mouth open in surprise. Z1 failed to notice, thumping her so hard with her pillow that it tossed the surprised girl onto her bed. Z1 raised her pillow again, then finally noticed the silence spreading across the room.
Falke holstered his pistol. He hesitated.
Pillow fights were not something he was used to dealing with.
At last, he shrugged. "Carry on."
As he closed the door, he saw Z23 raise her pillow again, vengeance in her eyes.
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His walk through the dorms of the heavy cruisers and battleships was much more peaceful. He heard the muted sounds of Bach lilting through the door of Bismarck's room. Eugen's light was on as well, which made him pause for a moment. The enigmatic heavy cruiser was always up to something, though he did not think she was at all disloyal to the Reich. Loyal to him on the other hand...he moved on. Whatever she was doing, there was little chance he could find out now.
He rounded the corner and nearly ran into Tirpitz. Her eyes widened as she saw him, clutching her robe a bit more tightly around her. "Kommandant?"
"Tirpitz. Lights out was an hour ago." Falke noticed the glass of water in her hand. "Couldn't sleep?"
"No," she admitted. "It is hard, sometimes. I feel-" she hesitated, looking down.
He cocked his head questioningly. "Yes?"
"Lonely," she finished, quietly.
He considered her for a moment. Tirpitz- as a ship- had spent most of the war hiding in a port in Norway, unable to sortie without support which never came. She was finally sunk by a Siren air raid not long before the secrets of the mental cubes had been discovered.
"Perhaps we could room you with Bismarck. She wouldn't mind, I'm sure-"
"No," interrupted Tirpitz. She blushed as he raised an eyebrow at her immediate refusal. "I just don't feel- we aren't as close as sisters would-"
"I understand. You may return to your room. I hope you rest well." He started to continue down the hall, but stopped when she spoke again from behind him.
"Kommandant, could you please- well, if I could just talk to you for a few moments."
He looked at her, surprised at the sudden vulnerability in her voice. Falke had always thought of the battleships in terms of their raw power, their majesty in the face of the enemy. It was hard for him to square that image with the girl he was seeing, one who suddenly seemed very small.
"Of course," he said. He followed her into her room.
Once inside, she gestured at the small table in the corner, a single wooden chair next to it. "Please, sit down."
"Thank you." He sat. For a second, she looked around before realizing the the chair was the only seat in the room. Looking a bit embarrassed, she sat down on the bed.
"I suppose it's not entirely seemly for a gentleman to be in my room this late."
"I'll try to restrain myself," he said dryly.
She blushed again. "I didn't mean-"
"It's all right. What did you want to talk about?"
Tirpitz sipped her water. "Where did you get that scar?" she asked suddenly.
Confused, he felt at the dueling scar on his cheek. "School, of course. You have heard of dueling?"
"I wasn't aware it was still practiced..."
"You surely must have had some officers with such scars aboard at some point."
"I never really- since I rarely had a chance to go anywhere, I didn't bond with my crew like most of the ships did."
"I see," he said thoughtfully. "It must have been very lonely."
"Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, even my sister all fought. Nothing brings a crew together like battle. I simply wasted away, until it was all over, never really fighting in a true battle," she said bitterly. "I was useless."
Falke watched her, noting the unshed tears in her eyes. "Not being used is not the same as being useless," he said gently. "It was not your fault."
She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "I promise I will be useful to you, Kommandant. I will fight, even unto death."
"You fight for the Reich," he pointed out. "Not for me."
"You are loyal to the Reich?"
"Always."
"Then what is the difference?"
He blinked. "I suppose that for practical purposes-" Unable to think of what else to say, he shook his head and stood up. "I should really get to bed."
As his hand closed on the doorknob, Tirpitz spoke again. "Wait."
He turned. "Yes?"
"Could you-" she hesitated. "Could you stay, just for a while? You make me feel safe."
He looked at her. It was clear she wasn't making a proposition. She was just- lonely.
Falke sat back down at the table. "Of course." He took a book from her shelf and began to read as she settled back in her bed.
After a few moments, the steadiness of her breathing told him she was asleep. He turned out the light and softly walked out of the room.
Prinz Eugen was walking down the hall, naturally. Her eyebrows raised when she saw him step out of Tirpitz's room.
"Well, well."
"Eugen."
"Kommandant."
They looked at each other for a moment.
"She was just lonely," said Falke.
The cruiser walked up to him, swinging her hips and batting her lashes. "Perhaps I get lonely too, Kommandant."
Frowning fiercely, he turned and stalked down the hall.
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Scherer saluted as he stepped outside the next day. "Kommodor, there is a surprise inspection today."
"I see," said Falke, adjusting his hat. "And if it is a surprise inspection, Scherer, how do you know about it?"
The sailor gave him a look.
"Of course. And who do we have to look forward to? Admiral Raeder?"
"No, it's the new Chancellor."
Falke raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Herr Hitler?"
"Ja, Kommodor."
"What do you know about him?" he asked, starting to walk toward the airfield. There was a new radar system that should be finished soon- he had been checking up on the progress nearly every day in the morning.
Scherer fell in beside him, adjusting the strap on his MP40 as he did. He had taken to carrying it everywhere since the Siren raid. "Probably the same things everyone else knows, sir. The National Socialists have risen greatly in popularity since he took over. Gives very impassioned speeches. Blames all of our problems on the Jews."
Falke snorted. "As if we don't have enough real enemies without inventing new ones."
"He says the Sirens have been helped by the Jews. Some sort of plot to take down the Reich."
There was a tone in Scherer's voice that made Falke look at him askance. "Don't tell me you believe that rubbish, Scherer."
The Feldwebel shrugged uneasily. "We lost so quickly, Kommodor. Isn't it possible that we could have been stabbed in the back? We would have won the Great War if the Sirens hadn't shown up-"
"Don't be so sure," said Falke. "With the Americans coming in, we would have been in real trouble, even if our new offensive was going well."
"As you say, Kommodor," said Scherer doubtfully.
They walked into the aerodrome which was buzzing with activity.
A fresh-faced man with messy brown hair looked up at them as they entered. Frantically wiping his greasy hands on his trousers, he approached. "Kommodor Falke! I didn't expect you today."
"Herr Doctor Siekert," said Falke. "I have been here almost every day, and yet you never expect my coming."
"You have? I mean, of course you have." Siekert ran his hands through his hair, not noticing the grease. "Sorry, Kommodor, I have been very busy-"
"Never mind that. It seems we have an illustrious visitor on his way today, and I wanted to check on our progress. Have you ironed out all the problems yet?"
"A visitor?"
"The chancellor," said Falke patiently. He had tried getting angry with the engineer before and found that it bounced like a rubber ball on pavement.
"Admiral Reuter? I like him. Good head on his shoulders."
"No, our current chancellor. Adolf Hitler."
There was a pause. "Who is he?"
"A very good question," said Falke. "What of the new radar system? Will it work?"
"A very good question," said Siekert. "The answer is, in a word, maybe."
"I was hoping for something less vague."
"So was I," admitted Siekert.
Falke sighed. "Will the plane at least fly?"
"Yes- at least, I think so." Siekert shrugged. "Only one way to find out."
"I had hoped for something a little more certain than that," said a new voice. Falke and the other two men turned to see a woman in a flying suit walking up to them.
"Who are you?" asked Falke, confused.
She smiled. "Hanna Reitsch, Kommodor. I have been sent by the Fuhrer to test the new aircraft."
"The fuhrer?"
"Adolf Hitler, of course. The Fuhrer of the National Socialist German Worker's Party." She grinned. "He is fairly well known."
"Of course," replied Falke. "The Fuhrer." He exchanged a dubious look with Scherer. "What happened to our other test pilot?"
"He agreed to let Fraulein Reitsch test the aircraft," said Siekert. "With indecent haste, I might add."
Falke sighed. "Very well, fraulein. I have heard of you, actually. I trust you will live up to your reputation."
"I intend to surpass it, Kommodor."
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Adolf Hitler turned out to be a middle-aged man of middling height wearing a Charlie Chaplin moustache and wielding a piercing gaze like a sword. Prepared for the passionate, almost fanatical man he had expected from newsreels, the so-called Fuhrer proved to be urbane and even charming.
"Herr Chancellor," he said as they walked toward the parade ground. "What have you heard of our project?"
"A little that was good, and a little that was bad," said Hitler. "I am curious to see the results of our labors. The uranium ore we have been importing is very expensive, you know. In money and German lives." More than a few flights had been shot down as they traveled from Africa.
"They have proven themselves to be effective in combat," said Falke. "And I am certain we will see many great victories from them in the future."
The girls were standing at attention on the parade ground, Bismarck at their head. Hitler smiled indulgently as he saw her. "A perfect Aryan specimen, as expected. Note the blonde hair and blue eyes."
"Er, of course, Herr Chancellor," said Falke, nonplussed. "But of course her armament is more important-"
"Of course. Eight thirty eight centimeter guns, twelve fifteen. Sixteen each of ten point five and three point seven. Not counting her anti-aircraft armament."
Falke nodded, impressed at the shorter man's knowledge. "Indeed. All concentrated in that one girl."
Hitler approached her, nodding as she saluted. "Good day, Fraulein. Please, be at ease." He frowned as he inspected her. "Where is your weaponry?"
Falke nodded. "Bismarck, if you would be so good...?"
Her rigging flashed into existence, causing the chancellor to take a step back in surprise.
"Ah, I see," he said, recovering himself. "Most impressive."
"Thank you, Chancellor," said Bismarck. "I look forward to serving the Reich."
"As do we all, Bismarck. You have much to live up to- both as the namesake of my predecessor, and the heroic fighting spirit of the battleship you are named after."
"If I may, Chancellor, she is not simply named after the battleship," said Falke. "She is the battleship."
Hitler regarded him for a moment, his eyes glinting. Falke got the impression that he did not like to be contradicted, even in so small a point. He had to fight not to flinch under the man's gaze. Hitler broke the spell by suddenly smiling. "Of course, Kommodor. Your point is well taken."
He turned his attention back to the other ships, walking slowly down the line and inspecting them. Falke was pleasantly surprised to note that the man's attention was primarily on their rigging, rather than the attractive- and in some cases quite exposed- bodies before him.
The Chancellor stopped in front of Prinz Eugen and frowned. The cruiser gave him a lazy smile.
"Falke," said Hitler, annoyance evident in his voice. "Surely this-" he gestured at Eugen's clothes- "is a little indecent."
Falke couldn't deny that he'd had much the same thought. "It seems to be part of their nature, Chancellor. They can wear other clothes, but inevitably they end up dressed, er, like this."
"No disrespect is intended, mein Fuhrer," said Prinz Eugen, smiling at Hitler. "It is simply who we are."
The Chancellor harrumphed and moved on. Falke stopped next to Eugen. "Eugen?" He spoke in a tone too low for Hitler to hear.
"Yes, Kommandant?"
"Call that man fuhrer again in my Navy and I'll have you peeling potatoes for a month."
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"So what do you think of our new chancellor?" asked Raeder as he and Falke stood in the briefing room. He nodded towards Hitler, who had a number of the younger girls clustered around him, spellbound.
The word was apt, Falke thought. They nodded along with him, laughed at his jokes, and in every way seemed to be under the man's weird spell. Hitler chucked Leipzig under the chin playfully, causing the light cruiser to giggle.
"He gets along well with the ship-girls," said Falke.
Raeder gave him a look. "That's not what I meant. Frankly, I don't know what the Kaiser was thinking."
"He was thinking that the National Socialists are better than the Communists," said Admiral Doenitz as he joined them. "He was thinking that Hitler was at least a patriotic German."
Falke shrugged. "It's not for me to question the Kaiser. My focus is on the fight against the Sirens."
Raeder chuckled. "And it should be our focus as well, Falke? Your point is noted. Still, I think Herr Hitler should be watched closely. He seems loyal to Germany. I'm not so certain he's loyal to the Kaiser, though."
"Dangerous words," murmured Doenitz.
"We live in dangerous times."
There was a long pause, which Doenitz finally broke. "I understand we have finally gotten some submarines from the project?"
Falke pulled his thoughts away from Hitler with an effort. "Yes, Admiral. U-101 and U-47 are both adjusting to the base. I look forward to seeing them in battle."
"As do I," said Doenitz, relish in his voice. "Intelligence suggests the Sirens have a more limited anti-submarine armament than their surface weaponry, at least in comparison."
"This new radar system," said Raeder thoughtfully. "I understand it will significantly increase our coverage?"
"Yes, Admiral. With radar-equipped planes in the air, we can identify and track targets at a far greater distance," said Falke. "Which will give us the chance to strike the Sirens before they attack us."
Raeder nodded thoughtfully. "So will it- ah, wait a moment. It seems you are being summoned by our illustrious Fuhrer."
Falke looked up to see Hitler, now alone, waving him over. He excused himself to the admirals and walked over to Hitler.
"Yes, Chancellor?"
"Walk with me, Falke."
They walked outside, the sky already darkening. They had spent the entire day touring the base, Falke realized. "Charming girls," said Hitler.
"Indeed," said Falke cautiously.
"I enjoy the company of women," said Hitler. "One can forget the worries that men must shoulder when around them. But they are not just women, are they?"
"No."
"They are weapons. They respect you, Falke." Hitler turned to him, looking Falke in the eye. "Are they loyal to the Fatherland, Falke?"
Falke stiffened. "Absolutely, Herr Chancellor."
"The time may come when their loyalties could be tested," said Hitler. "The Kaiser is ill, you know. And while you and I may stand by him, other poisonous elements may not. I speak, of course, of the Jews."
"The Jews," said Falke flatly.
Hitler didn't notice- or at least gave no sign of noticing- his tone. "The Jews, Falke. Isn't it convenient that just at the time we were about to win the Great War, this enemy appeared? They control global capitalism, after all- is it so impossible that they control the Sirens as well?"
Of course that's impossible, Falke wanted to say. He managed to keep his voice mild. "One point of view, Herr Chancellor."
"The only point of view that makes sense, Falke. My point is, are you certain that these ship-girls are free from foreign influence? Free from Jewish influence, more to the point?"
"I have instilled in them nothing but love and loyalty to the Fatherland, Herr Chancellor."
"Indeed." Hitler resumed walking, Falke carefully slowing his stride to match that of the shorter man. "Your wife was Jewish, was she not?"
"My wife." Falke's voice was flat. He fought down a surge of anger- how dare this man question- "Half-Jewish, actually. And she was killed in the first year of the war against the Sirens."
"No children?"
"No surviving children, Herr Chancellor."
Hitler shrugged. "My sympathies. You are of good Prussian stock, with a proud family history. I have no doubt they would have overcome the impurity of their ancestry."
It was all he could do not to strike the man. "Herr Chancellor," said Falke through gritted teeth. "I am a loyal officer, and I take my discipline seriously." He grabbed Hitler by the shoulder, turning him to face him. The chancellor's eyes widened in shock. "But if you speak of my wife or children again, I will give you a scar to match mine." He leaned close. "But on your throat, not your cheek."
Hitler's eyes blazed as he stepped away, shaking off Falke's hand. "You will not want me as an enemy, Falke. Many who have done so have lived to regret it."
"I will always be loyal to the Fatherland, Herr Hitler. If I find myself arrayed against you, then I know on which side you stand."
Falke turned and walked away.
A/N: I am so sorry for the long hiatus. I injured my shoulder pretty badly at work and typing was well-nigh impossible for me. The good news is that I'm feeling much better now and have had plenty of time to consider the plot.
Hitler was, as many of you likely know, quite charming in person for the most part. The half-crazed Hitler of later years was always there, but until the war was going quite badly he managed to mostly keep it under control (mostly; under great stress such as when war seemed inevitable over the Sudetenland his true colors could sometimes come out). He also always got along well with women. On the other hand, I hope the malice in his personality comes out as well in this depiction of him. He's a hard man to write, because most people tend to think of him as a cartoonish villain, when in reality he hid his evil under a veneer of urbanity and solicitousness.
Dueling scars from schools in Germany were a common thing, as they fenced with real weapons in ritualistic duels.
Hanna Reitsch was a real person, for those of you unfamiliar with her. She was Hitler's favorite pilot and set a number of altitude records in her time.
Again, sorry for the delay. I hope to be back on schedule from now on.