Out of the Frying Pan ...

Source

"What can you see?" Lang was impatient, the sun was up and it looked like it was going to be a lovely spring day. Which meant that the sky was clear and the Jabos would be out in force.

"There are people moving around near the boat, which appears to be intact, civilians. I don't see any Amis or Ivans."

"A good thing, ja?" Liesl offered.

"Indeed, schatzi, provided they're not busy doing something else."

"I have an idea." Krafft looked at Lang.

"Give me the rag, I'm going to step out and wave it. See if they respond." Lang's idea seemed reasonable, but ...

"Seems risky." Krafft pointed out.

"So is remaining here for much longer."

Friedrich Driessler looked up from his work and saw something on the far bank of the Elbe. What in the world?

"Hey Horst, guck mal da¹!"

There was a man, in a uniform from the look of it, waving a white cloth tied to the end of what looked like a rifle. Driessler's eyesight wasn't as good as it once was.

Horst Niemeyer came out of the shed next to the dock. He looked first at Driessler who was repairing a line, then across the river. Fortunately the sun went behind a cloud, lessening the glare off the water of the river.

Niemeyer walked down to Driessler, "Looks like one of our boys, probably running from the Russians. What do you think, run the boat over and pick him up?"

"It's your ferry, Horst, you do what you will, but what will the Amis say?"

Rogätz had a small American army garrison, roughly a platoon of service troops. Their commander, Captain William Backus, was an easy-going sort. He spoke German, which he had learned from his grandmother, and got along well with the people in the area.

"We could ask the Hauptmann," Niemeyer suggested, "or we could just go over and get him. Hauptmann Backus shouldn't mind too much."

"I think you've already made up your mind, Horst."

"Cast off for me, won't you?"

Lang watched with great interest as the ferry began to move. Without looking towards them, he told Krafft and Frau Schmitz, "Ferry is on its way. Shall we wait until it gets here before you pop out? Let me talk to them first. No need to startle anyone."

It didn't take long for the boat to get to the bank, Lang grinned as the older man aboard the boat came out and tossed him a line. Which he tied haphazardly to a nearby bollard.

The man came ashore and stuck his hand out, "Niemeyer, 33rd Fusilier Regiment, of course, that was a long time ago."

Lang grinned and took the man's hand, "Lang, Füsilier Regiment 78, II. Bataillon, small world, ja?"

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" Niemeyer gestured with his chin towards the thick brush farther down the bank.

Lang waited a moment, this was somewhat unexpected.

"We can't stand here all day swapping yarns, there's an American garrison in Rogätz and if any of them see the ferry over here, they might ask questions." Niemeyer was anxious to get back to the other side of the river.

"Russians make you nervous, Opa²?" Lang scoffed.

"Having fought the bastards, yes. Seen any recently?"

"They're not up to the river in force yet, from our understanding they are focused on Berlin. Is the capital still holding out?"

"I've no idea and what's more, I don't care. Now are you lot coming or not?"

When the remainder of the men filed onboard, Lang cast off the line and hurried to jump aboard.

Niemeyer saw this and called out, "Russians make you nervous, Junge?"

Lang laughed and made a rude gesture at the older man.

Once upon the western bank of the Elbe, Niemeyer told Krafft and his people that they should take shelter in a small warehouse near the ferry landing. Then he asked, "Do any of you speak English?"

The young radioman raised his hand, "I speak a little."

Another man stood up and walked up to Niemeyer and Krafft. Krafft introduced him as Gefreiter Peter Müller.

"Why didn't I know you spoke English, Peter?" Krafft asked.

"We were fighting Russians, I didn't think it a useful skill."

"I remember the memo that went around in the fall of 1944, some SS fellow named Skorzeny was looking for men who spoke English for a special mission. Did you answer that call?" Krafft was wondering if the man really spoke English.

"I don't know Staber, we're losing the war, the SS want men who can speak English, then we hear of a lost offensive in the snows of the Ardennes, probably a bad move. Besides which, I like the Americans, I lived in Milwaukee for a couple of years before the war."

"You lived in America?" Krafft was amazed.

"Teaching the Amis how to make beer was a good job." Müller had a wistful smile on his face when he said that.

"All right," turning to Niemeyer he said, "I guess Müller is your man. How are we going to do this?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure how to explain to Hauptmann Backus how thirty German soldiers are suddenly in his sitting room."

"Our goal is to surrender, not fight the Amis. Surely this Backus fellow will understand."

"I'm sure he will, it's his commanding officer I'm worried about. He's an Oberstleutnant with his headquarters in Magdeburg. He's not a very friendly sort. On the plus side, Hauptmann Backus is Volksdeutsch³ and speaks our language. He might be sympathetic to your situation. His commander might toss you back over the river if ... Mein Gott!"

He had just noticed Liesl Schmitz at the back of the group.

"You have a Wehrmachthelferin with you?" Niemeyer looked worried.

"Yes, why?"

"When you surrender, they will separate her from you, is that a problem?"

Krafft felt his heart sink, "Yes, it is."

Niemeyer nodded, then he gestured at Liesl, "Fräulein, come with me please."

"Where are you taking her?" Krafft bristled.

"To my wife, we'll get her a change of clothes, she can stay with us."

It was Liesl's turn to look concerned, "What if I don't want to do that?"

Niemeyer shook his head, "Alright, one problem at a time. Arranging your surrender, then we'll worry about the young lady."

"It's Frau, not Fräulein." Liesl spoke up.

Niemeyer looked from Krafft to Liesl, "She is your wife?"

Krafft waited for a heartbeat, then said, "Not exactly."

¹ Look there!

² Grandpa

³ A term for ethnic Germans.