Undying Love Books 1 and 2 - Brian Hesse (books on motivation .TXT) 📗

from Auschwitz death camp. I believe that we are being targeted for retrieval.”

   Gustav looked at both with his large grin still plastered across his face and replied, “good, because we have a chance to fight back.”

    “But we are on our way to Targale, Latvia, we should be on our way, replied Aleksander.

     “No, my friends, you must stand and fight.”

 For the last several years, lovers were resigned to the idea of survival. Standing their ground became an alien concept, like a lamb forced to assume the role of the tiger.

   “My friends, you are way off your course. I can tell by looking at you, that you traveled many days through hell just to reach this farm. You are a good seventy miles from Auschwitz, but in a Westerly direction. You are outside the city of Kropkowice, the city of rubble and corpses”

    Anastazja and Aleksander sat down on the hard-splintered floor of the barn, and both wept.

    “Now, now, people. Stop that nonsense. You come inside my home and sit by the fire. We will discuss our next move.”

The Decision

 Three friends sat around a roaring fire eating the most satisfying meal both lovers had in a long time. Gustav prepared freshly baked lamb, whole potatoes, carrots, and real Russian coffee. Aleksander was afraid to ask, but could not contain his thoughts anymore.

As if reading his mind, Gustav began, “I am a partisan, or at least was. I belonged to a local group of partisans called the Werewolves. We were a group of ten, seven Poles, and three Russian NKVD advisors. You see, the Russians were not as surprise as you think when the Germans attacked. The NKVD (Russian secret police) began stockpiling and training local Poles to disrupt the inevitable German blitzkrieg. Stalin himself probably didn’t even know. Anyway, I am the last one left. The others killed in action or captured and hung”

  “Were so sorry,” replied Anastazja. “What of your family?” She turned her gaze to a faded photo of a young thin blonde-haired woman, and a young boy of, as she guessed, no older than ten.

 Gustav followed her gaze and with a tear just visible on the corner of his right eye stated, “my wife and eleven-year-old son were executed. Just a few meters from here there was a mass killing of Jews. My wife and son were part of a group forced to dig their own mass grave before being shot. I could only sit helplessly by and watch. You see, the pigs also need slaves. They need farmers to supply food for their diabolical operations. I was unfortunately spared death, but I will see my family one day.”

  “This war has taken so much already. I wonder if it will ever end,” said Anastazja, sadly looking at the old photograph of two vibrant people once full of such love, now ghosts in the mind of a broken man.

  Gustav brightened and slapped Aleksander on the shoulder and continued his pitch, “Listen my friends. Your journey is too long. If you are being pursued, like you believe you may be, then you will never reach such a far destination as Targale. Wait here for a few more days and see if the road is safe. You cannot have wolves at your back as you journey through the wilderness. You must stop, turn around, and face the beasts of the forests. It is the only way.”

  Aleksander considered these simple, but truthful words. He was not certain that they were specifically being followed. It was just a feeling that was stuck deep down in his gut. Anastazja revealed how she killed Hans Gruber in the ghetto, and how she sewed the Jewish star on her coat to escape. He did not think that such boldness could be ignored by the SS elite. Prisoners killing and escaping the jaws of the death camp machinery must be like a slap in the face to the SS. No, he reconsidered, more like a punch in the jaw. He would take the ex-partisans advice and wait a few days before venturing on to their destination.

  To start a new life, he thought, with a renewed feeling of determination.

   Good, it is settled then. Tomorrow we will prepare for the worst, but certainly, as always, hope for the best.

I know Where You Are

 Just across the two miles stretch of forest, and barren fields marking the lover’s escape, two SS guards walk the perimeter, with German Shepherds at hand.

   “I saw them dam you,” replied the young SS guard, Hermann Deitz, to his partner, Rudolf Heinzelmann.

    “I think you are drinking too much of that damn Russian vodka left behind during the Russian evacuation. That piss will make you hallucinate,” replied Rudolf, laughing and smoking his hand rolled cigarette.

    “Fuck You Heinzelmann. I saw them, and I am ready to search again.”

   “Go ahead fool, and the Commander will collect your balls in a glass jar,” replied Rudolf, laughing again between blowing large smoke rings into the cold morning air.

    “Who the hell is this asshole!” exclaimed Rudolf, pointing at the dark figure approaching their position. The figure was several hundred yards away, but both guards could see that whoever it was, stopped intermittently along the edge of the field.

     “Let’s go find out,” stated Hermann.

    “Ok, but if it’s a Pole, or a Jew, I get to kill the bastard. You killed the last one, remember.”

    Both soldiers continued to walk toward the dark figure, arguing over which one had the pleasure to kill their last Jewish victim. As they approached within just a few meters, both quickly snapped to attention, as they could see the rank of Major on the crisp black SS uniform.

   “Hello, soldiers, I am Eldric Richter. No need to be formal, you can dispense with the Heil Hitler salutes. Stand at ease and tell me what I want to know.”

Prepared for Battle

  “Now listen my friends,” began Gustav. “You were right, both of you. There is a Major in the SS asking questions about the other night when I hid you in my barn. There is no logical reason why this should be so, unless the swine was looking for something. I learned that his name is Eldric Richter, Jew hunter for the SS. A very sick individual.”

    “How did you find this out, Gustav.”

    “Not important, but what is, is that we stand our ground. If you can eliminate this monster, you will be free. I would imagine that his death would be too much of an embarrassment for the SS to handle. You would be free to find that one little patch of land untouched by the horrors of this war. If it even exists.”

     Gyustav walked over to the fireplace and released a loose stone from the mantle above. He produced two 9MM German Lugers, and placed them on the kitchen table.

    “They are loaded. Just point and pull the trigger. You both have Army experience, which is good. These killer instincts never leave us. Our training always surfaces when the nerves are standing on their very ends.”

   Both lovers grabbed the pistols with a professionalism that only an experienced soldier knows. Gustav looked at them with an expression of respect, and relief. At least I believe they do have a chance of survival, he surmised.

    “I have a Mosin-Nagant 1891 Russian sniper rifle with just three rounds left. I will be upstairs providing you with cover.” Gustav walked to the front door, and gestured for both to come closer. He opened the door and pointed out the wood line, just thirty yards away.

     “One of you must hide in the wood line and let any guard’s past. One of you will hide in the barn, and wait for my signal. Once I fire, you both emerge and quickly do your work. They will be attacked from the front, rear, and flanked by, at least three rounds, of sniper fire. If this fails, we will surely die, but we will die fighting.”

    Life in the ghetto, the death camp, and on the run, changed Anastazja and Aleksander. There love has kept them strong, but their hatred has kept them warm. Dying was no longer such a significant fear. Fighting back was more important than life. The lamb has become the tiger.

Ambush

 Eldric watched with his high-powered binoculars as Anastazja took her place along the wood line. He laughed softly, almost losing his balance, sitting thirty yards off the ground in the embrace of a large maple tree. He watched with, as close to the emotion of happiness, a man like him could achieve, as she covered herself with branches, leaves, and dirt for concealment. With a deliberate movement he repositioned his glasses and watched Aleksander enter the barn with pistol in hand. Well that’s two, he thought, one more to go. He was already aware that Gustav was a lone bachelor, having lost his wife and son to the death squads. The Nazi’s were known throughout the world, even this early on, as efficient bureaucrats with meticulous, almost an unhealthy obsession, with accurate record taking. Eldric was aware that Gustav’s family was liquidated and as he deduced, that it was very unlikely that he could muster reinforcements in such a short span of time.

  Eldric climbed down from his perch and addressed Hermann and Rudolf, both crouched low at the base of the tree.

   “Listen troopers, there are only three. I want Rudolf to circle wide and come up to the back of the house. If I were Gustav, I would be perched in my sniper’s nest on the top floor.”

   “Hermann, I want you to flank left, causing as much disturbance as possible. Use grenades, gunfire, anything to draw the sniper’s attention. So, stay hidden, and use the trees as cover.” He looked at both boys, wide eyed with fear. They have never seen real combat. There reality of the war has been killing unarmed old men, women, and children in the pits around the area.

    “Listen boys, just do your jobs, and Himmler himself will decorate your uniforms. Once I have the woman, all fighting will cease. This I promise you.

    Both guards left to take their positions, no doubt, with dreamy thoughts of Himmler personally pinning medals on their chests. Eldric knew that the chances of that were slim. The idea was to erase the history of the escape. In fact, he thought, the purpose of any dictatorship is to erase history, because remembering history incites the imagination, and incitement of the imagination is dangerous to all totalitarian regimes.

   Eldric slowly crawled on his stomach toward Anastazja. He was driven almost mad by the feeling of the dirt and leaves under his crisp uniform. The thought of staining himself with dirt made his skin crawl with the sensation of a thousand ants, and he just wanted to bathe for weeks. Fortunately, for him, before being overcome with insanity, the explosions to his left began. Hermann began throwing stick grenades and firing his MP 40 toward the house. Eldric did not hear any return fire. He now deduced, with the satisfaction of an inflated ego, a feeling he knew so well, that the sniper was limited on ammunition.

   He quickened his pace, not as concerned now with rustling leaves, or kicking loose rocks. Hermann was making enough noise to cause the house windows on the first floor to implode with bits and pieces of shattered glass. Finally, he was right next to Anastazja’s position. He could see the leaves she used for cover shaking, as if a gentle breeze were blowing from all directions. He grabbed her by the back of the neck with his left hand and squeezed hard enough to make her forget wanting to use any other part of her body in self-defense. With his right hand, he grabbed