Date: Fri, 23 Jul 2004 19:15:13 -0400
From: Carl Mason <carl5de@netscape.net>
Subject: OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 4
OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 4
Copyright 2004 by Carl Mason
All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the author. Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl5de@netscape.net.
This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between a young adult
male and young male teenagers. Nevertheless, "Out of the Rubble" is
neither a strictly "suck and fuck" exercise nor is it a story that focuses
on the "love of adults for the young"...often without sex or with the mere
suggestion of sex. If you are looking for these types of erotic fiction,
there are fine examples of each on Nifty. Something slightly different is
required here.
However based on real events and places, "Out of the Rubble" is strictly
fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Further, this is homoerotic
fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature,
adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in
power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would
create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally,
remember that maturity generally demands that anything other than safe sex
is sheer insanity!
PART 4
(Revisiting the End of Part 3)
"Sam, do you know what happens when a Slovak officer is found to be
homosexual?" He continued, "And both the Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS troops
did the same thing. I know because I watched more and more of them as the
Russians came closer. Sam, they shot them on the spot...on the spot! Are
you Americans different?"
Looking at the expression on Sam's face, a tear slowly trickled down his
cheek. "Oh, Sam, what are we going to do?"
(Continuing Our Story - Under Cover)
Sam got up, put his hands under the youngster's arm pits, and literally
yanked him to his feet. Tightly embracing the boy, Sam kissed him ardently
whereupon Andreas, a somewhat comical, dreamy, lost-in-Wonderland look on
his face, simply melted against his hero. "Ok, Lover, let's get you out of
here. Into the kitchen... March!" He watched appreciatively as his boy's
broad shoulders, muscled back, and flexing cheeks led the way. 'Oh, God,'
he thought, 'make this real.'
Realizing that Andreas has barely touched his supper, Sam stood at the
counter, manufacturing two of his famous "Dagwood" sandwiches. Putting
both of them in front of the still dazed youngster, he grabbed a couple of
cokes from the fridge, and sat down himself.
As the boy munched away as if there were no tomorrow, Sam began, "Andreas,
Americans aren't much different from anyone else. They're generous...and
they're stingy. They're kind...and they're cruel. They're smart...and
they're stupid. When it comes to homosexuality, they're just as stupid as
your people are. You're not a shit-head if you're gay, Big Guy! Some of
the greatest human beings have been. And I'm not in danger of being shot
as an American officer who is gay. True, some of the guys might beat up on
me if they got the chance. If an officer found out, he would probably
simply end my military career, end my work here in Tieferwald, and ship me
home on the next boat in disgrace. You wouldn't come along. In some ways,
you see, I'd rather be shot. So I have to tell you, you gorgeous hunk of
VolksKraut, that we have to hide our relationship. We'll just have to work
under cover!" [The 'Volksdeutsche' were ethnic Germans, such as the
Slovakian Germans, who had been settling in other lands, particularly in
Eastern Europe, for centuries; 'sauerkraut' is a German fermented cabbage
dish that you either love or hate; 'Kraut' became an American nickname -
often not too affectionate - for Germans, particularly German soldiers.]
"Hunk of VolksKraut?" interjected a confused teenager.
"Yep, but you're much too sweet to be sour!" chortled Sam. Andreas just
looked blank - once again proving the point that humor does not necessarily
cross linguistic borders - if, indeed, bad puns are humor. Sam continued,
"There's something else that I have to tell you. There's no way under a
beautiful, cloud-filled New England sky that I'm going to lose you. I want
you in my life for ever."
"Oh, yeah," yelled Andreas...and, to his deep embarrassment, belched
loudly.
Realizing that he was fast becoming slap-happy - and that Andreas wasn't
far behind - Sam bundled the two of them off to bed, insisting that further
discussion (and action) be deferred till morning. The intensity of the
last few hours ensured a good night's sleep.
--- Stretching luxuriously in a
room shimmering in the morning sun, recalling the wondrous dreams that had
driven some his devils away (at least for the moment), the young American
Captain was quite a sight. A shock of thick black hair crowned a handsome
face, his eyes a penetrating shade of green, the nose and chin suggesting
determination. Broad thickly muscled shoulders topped powerful pecs and
(down under the covers) a beautifully tapered torso generously sprinkled
with black hair. When erect, his cock reached more than 8 hard inches (21
cm). The long, muscular legs of his 6'-1" (185 cm) frame and his tight,
muscular hips had scored for the Big Green so many times that he'd won
All-Ivy [his athletic conference's all-star recognition] during both his
junior and senior years. Slowly, so pleasantly, he was returning to full
consciousness.
WHY WAS HE LYING IN BED NAKED? He damned well knew that he'd been in his
underwear when he last lay down to attempt sleep! And what in hell was
that large tent at the bottom of the bed? Recoiling in horror, his mind
registered that whatever "it" was, "it" was alive - and nibbling on his
knees! AGHR-R-R-R-R! His body convulsed, the covers erupted, and a foot
propelled whatever was eating him off the bottom of the bed!
Slowly, a nose - Andreas's nose! - appeared above the mattress level. "Why
did you do that?" his voice complained. "Why were you nibbling on me" Sam
responded. "Didn't you like it," the teen with the blue eyes and the mop
of light brown hair asked peevishly. "Yeah, maybe I did. Try it again,"
his Captain snickered.
Crawling half-way back onto the bed, Andreas lay his upper body down
between Sam's legs and began licking the heavy muscles at the bottom of his
thighs. Raising his head, revealing a wacky grin, he breathed, "See, no
teeth." Slowly moving his body ever higher on the bed, he worked his way
up the footballer's thick thigh, licking a bit, nibbling a bit,
occasionally simply breathing on the trembling flesh. Beginning to have
problems breathing, Sam opened his legs a little further - and Andreas kept
right on going. Soon his tongue began to probe Sam's ballsack, pushing
against its hidden treasures. Gasping, Sam found it increasingly difficult
to stay still. His circumcised cock which had been swollen, but not erect,
suddenly vibrated like a steel spring and sprang straight up...hard, red,
dripping precum. The busy lad quickly moved from the scrotum to his next
target, his mouth engulfing the head.
"AGHR-R-R-R-R! Watch the teeth, animal! Do you really know what you're
doing down there?" came Sam's tortured shriek.
"Nein, Herr Hauptmann [No, Captain], but it sure is fun!" came the muffled
reply.
In fact, Andreas had practiced enough on two of his brothers and with
another village pal to have a pretty good idea of what was going on. Not
unskillfully, his tongue spread precum around the head, probed the urethra,
and circled the ridge that separated the head from the shaft. Then,
sucking and licking, he slowly worked his lips down the hefty shaft until
he could go no further. Relaxing, gulping repeatedly, he guided Sam's
penis up into his throat. With all of the staying power of a 13 year old
neophyte, Sam exploded. Cum dripping from his mouth, the lad worked his
body up onto his lover's and kissed him with all of the passion that he had
known was within him. When the two of them came up for air, he grinned and
asked facetiously, "Like that?"
"Kinda," Sam replied. "Nah, that's unfair. I LOVED it! In fact, I loved
it so much that I'm going to chain you to the bed and establish my own
'Thousand Year Reich!' And now, here's what I'm gonna do to you. His
Captain immediately began to kiss the German lad who was so deeply, so
obviously in love - not with deep passionate kisses, mind you, but with
light kisses...on every square millimeter of his body. Within 15 minutes,
the bottoms of his feet, his tongue, the tips of his fingers, his belly
button, his long scrotum, his nose, his right butt cheek [Well, you get the
idea!] were absolutely afire. His lips finally hovered over Andreas's
beautiful, rock-hard cock as a Stuka hovers over its target...and attacked!
The young lad lasted no longer than had Sam. Suddenly, his back arched off
the bed until Sam thought the great zeppelin "Hindenberg" might have
returned and achieved lift-off. Every muscle at maximum tension, the dark,
corded veins on his cock bulging until they must burst, Andreas SCREAMED as
streams of cum flew in every direction! Wow! What an exhibition!
Our two young men cuddled, whispering words to each other that should
probably remain private. After all, it was their first time, and it was
natural to be a little shy. Oh, yes, they did agree that their relative
inexperience wasn't likely to interfere with their achieving a mutually
satisfying sexual relationship - on the covers or under them!
(The Wolf Cubs)
About a week after the PX incident, Sam received a phone call from the
office of General Clemens, the Military District's commanding One-Star. On
arriving at Army Headquarters, Captain Peters was quickly received by a
Colonel on the General's staff. It seems that the first detachments of
released German soldiers and other military personnel were beginning to
arrive in the area. The group arriving last night had included two young
members of an HJ or Hitler Jugend [Hitler Youth] detachment that had fought
in the final battle for Berlin. In short, the General wanted some help.
Sam was a little uncomfortable, for he was essentially a junior officer on
special assignment, a charitable relief assignment! Young officers needed
to be wary of land mines if they wished their careers to prosper. The
Colonel was very smooth...and very persuasive. These boys had come from an
industrial district of Tieferwald that lay across the River Main, a
district that had essentially been totally destroyed by multiple heavy
bomber raids.. Thus, they needed support of a type that the Military
Command wasn't prepared to give soldiers. Further, every word that the
General had received from members of his Command and from the German
populace suggested that the Captain was among the most sensitive and the
most effective American officers in the area. Finally, the first estimated
reports of needs for housing, food, and fuel during the winter months ahead
were, to use the Colonel's word, grim. Given his help with these HJ whelps
- and others who would probably appear later - Sam might expect even more
active cooperation from the Military in meeting common needs. Their
folders in his briefcase, the Captain left the office having promised to
meet with the two wolf cubs at 1100 hours. He could not help feeling that
there was more to the story than he had been told. The Colonel had laid it
on just a little too thick! Wolf cubs... Oh, yeah! Though he did not
know it then, "juvenile lions" or the "spawn of spitting cobras" might have
been better descriptions for many of them!
On arriving back at his administrative building parking space, Sam was
overjoyed to greet his "Official Assistant" who had just returned from
making several business deliveries, including a delivery of flowers and a
few food gifts to a new mother at the German hospital. God, he was
beautiful! Bringing his bike to a screeching halt (strictly for the
benefit of his Captain), his flushed pink cheeks, the wide grin, the soft
light hair, and his ever-present cap set slightly askew presented a picture
that would have graced the paintings of the greatest of the Dutch or German
masters. The tight T-shirt under a light, open jacket and the shorts that
revealed some gorgeous boy-flesh weren't lost on Sam either!
Once in the office, Sam turned to Andreas and filled him in on the new
assignment. "A couple of Hitler Youths were returned with troops who have
completed their processing" he opened. "For a variety of reasons, the
General wants this office to handle them. I've got some bad feelings about
this job, but you might be able to give me a lot of help. If you want in,
just tell me. If, due to the fact you are likely to have future contact
with these people here in Tieferwald - or for any other reason - you would
like to pass on this one, tell me that, too. No problem either way,
Andreas."
The youth snapped to attention, saluted (the right way), and barked, "Zum
Befehl, Herr Hauptmann!" ["At your command, Captain!"].
'Gee, I wish he wouldn't do that,' Sam groaned. "Ok, sit down, and let me
tell you about the wolf cubs." In broad strokes, Sam sketched the
background of the Hitler Youth - their rise, their indoctrination in large
camps as German children were evacuated from bombed cities, the formation
of the 12th SS-Panzer Division Hitlerjugend in 1943 as Hitler experienced
major defeats and personnel losses, the extraordinary battle record of the
Division at Caen and at the Falaise Gap, and the part that the Hitler
Jugend played in the Battle for Berlin. He added that Ehrhardt, the 16
year-old had won an Iron Cross at the Falaise Gap, a battle in which he had
himself taken part. Later, he also took part in siege of Bastogne, another
battle in which he faced American troops, including Sam. Johann had been
personally commended by Hitler in Berlin not long before his suicide and
had been photographed with his comrades and the Fuehrer.
"Well, Andreas, are you ready to go meet some 'Wolfies'?" The normally
ebullient Andreas was somewhat subdued, but there was no questioning his
curiosity. In turn, Sam was curious that the boy asked him to stop by the
house before driving to the Base. When he returned to the Jeep, however,
all was clear. He was now dressed in a khaki shirt, long khaki pants, and
his beloved boots. He still wore his Garrison cap.
Sam and Andreas were seated at a table when a Sargent delivered the pair of
wolf cubs and remained in the room. Both were dressed in worn uniforms;
both were clean, but obviously tired. They stood at attention until Sam
told them to relax. He looked at them with frank curiosity. The 16
year-old was somewhat taller than Andreas, but very thin. It was his eyes
that got to the Captain - the eyes of a forty year-old man who had seen too
much. Also, his skin was very weatherbeaten...so heavy and worn that it
nearly concealed the few teenage zits. The 13 year-old was a cute
puppy...until you looked into his eyes. Neither Sam nor Andreas had any
desire to meet him alone on a dark night. Sam told the Sargent to go, but
he hesitated. "Sargent..." Sam began..."
"Sorry, Sir," the Sargent nterjected, "but these guys are wild animals.
Shoot them if they give you any trouble." Departing, his demeanor
suggested that he was delighted to wash his hands of the entire matter.
"So, gentlemen, you are wild animals who may need to be shot?" Sam
ventured.
"No, Sir, we are former soldiers of the Third Reich," Ehrhardt said
sharply.
"The is no more 'Third Reich,' Sam said just as sharply. "Can we agree,
however, that you are former members of the German Armed Forces?" Ehrhardt
cooly agreed to that language.
"Please sit," Sam continued, "there are cigarettes on the table. I can get
some beer - or Cokes, if you prefer." The boys sat (at attention), but
didn't reach for the cigarettes. Ehrhardt declined the refreshments for
both of them.
"Men, are you familiar with what happened to your homes...and your
families?'
"Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann!" Ehrhardt answered as if Sam has asked him if the
sun still shone.
"Would you like to see your home district?" Sam asked, not unkindly. "My
office has been ordered to assist your return in any way possible."
"You need not 'assist' us, Herr Hauptmann. We would, however, appreciate
seeing what remains of our homes."
"Fine. Go with the Sargent, retrieve your packs from the barracks, and
join us in the parking lot."
A very few minutes later, they joined us at our Jeep. Ehrhardt was
directed to sit in front with Sam; Johann, in the rear with Andreas. Their
faces impassive, they obeyed the directives without question.
The journey across the river was long and slow. As they reached the Main,
their papers were checked and an M.P. [Military Policeman] directed them
onto a pontoon bridge. On the other side, they were checked again and
entered another world. Here there were no true streets and roads, for
there were no places to go...and no one to use them. A terrain of rubble
piled on top of rubble and twisted steel and wood mixed with twisted steel
and wood stretched as far as the eye could see. An unpleasant breeze that
seemed to moan and, occasionally, shriek picked up dust that stung their
eyes. Sam examined a map provided him by the Colonel's adjutant, located
an area marked with an "X," and took off slowly on one of the rutted tracks
that had been cleared through the debris field. After about 25 minutes, he
pulled to a halt and looked around questioningly.
"Herr Hauptmann, if you will," Ehrhardt interjected, "I think I could get
us a little closer. My home is not far and Johann, the best friend of my
little brother, lived just across the street. May I drive? I promise
you...my full cooperation."
Sam looked directly into the eyes the young man and said simply, "Ok, let's
change seats." Johann's face seemed momentarily to register surprise, but
he said nothing.
After another 5 or 6 minutes driving on the narrow, rutted track, the Jeep
halted. Ehrhardt's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Struggling
to keep his voice under rigid control, he asked Sam if Johann and he could
walk over beside a large piece of burned roofing that lay crazily on great
mounds of crushed cinder block and other debris. "You need not fear the
slightest problem, Herr Hauptmann, he said. As a soldier, as one who
fought honorably against you at the Falaise Gap and near Bastogne, you have
my bond." While Sam's faced remained expressionless, his stiff nod gave
them permission.
The boys scrambled over the ruins until they reached the slab. There they
stood, side by side, at rigid attention. As the 13 year-old began to break
down, Ehrhardt looked back over his shoulder at the Captain. Somehow he
received permission from Sam to comfort his buddy. Again facing the
rubble, their arms raised stiffly in the Hitler salute. Sam immediately
shouted, "NO!" and walked over to them.
"Men, as you were told at your Processing Station, the Hitler salute may no
longer be used in Occupied Germany. You may, however, use the older Army
salute. The Hitler salute - and the Third Reich - are things of the past.
Live in the present!" he advised firmly. ." Ehrhardt nodded and received
permission to walk further into the rubble. Johann sat dejectedly on a
large chunk of masonry, weeping softly. Andreas went over to him and spoke
quietly until Ehrhardt returned. Sam watched his boy give the two young
soldiers a few flowers to place where they would. (Where they came from he
never asked...nor did he ever learn.)
On their return to the Jeep, Sam told the young boys that they might return
to the (empty) barracks or join him and his assistant for dinner. The
irrepressible Andreas volunteered that they should choose the food! After
looking at Johann, Ehrhardt saluted Sam smartly and said, "Thank you, Herr
Hauptmann. We accept your kind invitation...and that of Andreas."
The evening wasn't a particularly comfortable affair. The three boys ate
ravenously, and appreciatively. Nevertheless, afterwards in the living
room, Ehrhardt couldn't stop pacing the floor like a young lion and Johann
was quietly despondent. Andreas tried to show Johann some of his "stuff,"
but the time was not ripe. Sam's attempts to get Ehrhardt to say more
about the Falaise Gap and Bastogne met with a polite stone wall.
It was getting late when Sam turned to the lads and said, "Boys, you may
use one of our bedrooms tonight. I think you will find it more comfortable
than the barracks. Tomorrow, after breakfast, we shall return to the Base.
If, and only if, you choose, I have found a family in Tieferwald who would
very much like you to live with them. I've spoken with them personally.
They truly respect your courage. They also deeply regret your terrible
loss, as do Andreas and I. Remember: The choice is completely yours."
Ehrhardt actually smiled...slightly...and said, "Thank you, Captain"...in
perfect American English.
(Afterword - Part 4)
In the months following their meeting, the wolf cubs had their problems,
but they did considerably better than many of the other Hitler Youth who
returned to Tieferwald. Sam and Andreas didn't hear much of them, but
later events would prove that they hadn't forgotten their hosts' acts of
simple human kindness .
After returning the boys to the Base - and accompanying them to meet their
new family - Sam and his young Official Assistant threw themselves into a
particularly wild day at the URA office. We rejoin them at home that
evening.
Sitting in his favorite chair while Andreas sprawled on the floor, Sam
asked, "Well, what did you think of the wolf cubs?"
"I don't know, Sam, at first I thought they were just a pair of real
Scheissekoepfe [shit-heads], but I've been thinking. They're not little
boys trying to be tough. If they fought you, they had to be tough! How
can I criticize Ehrhardt for refusing to cry in public when I wouldn't
either? Johann doesn't count. I think he could be dangerous, but he's
still a little kid," Andreas offered meditatively. "I do know this: Your
actions made be proud to be your friend. Uncle Erich taught me that one
can be tough and still not become a Scheisskopf. You were tough with them
where you had to be, but you were a human being when it counted."
"There's something else I didn't tell you, Andreas," Sam continued. "Early
in the battle for the Falaise Gap, I had Ehrhardt square in my gun sights.
I caught him by surprise. Even though my Canadian buddies had told me that
these Krauts were poison, I couldn't fire when I saw that he was just a
kid. I just couldn't... His buddies came up quickly, and I had to duck
back or be shot myself. Did I do the wrong thing?"
Without warning, Andreas grabbed his mentor's leg and tumbled him down onto
the floor. Tickling - and a little plain groping - quickly broke the
tension.
"Do you feel bad about not having killed him?" Sam's Official Assistant
finally retorted. "Come on, Sam! You're no Scheisskopf. We're going to
need every tough man...and woman...and kid we can find before we're
through. I was down at the temporary train station this afternoon.
Soldiers - many of them in terrible shape - are coming back. There was
quite a line of Army ambulances. I heard stories about the kind of a
winter we are going to have. No coal, no food, no warm clothes...
Apartments all shot to hell... I think your army is going to need every
bit of help it can get if we are going to make it through some hard times."
The light from a small fire flickered on Andreas's hair as it tumbled down
over his young face. Gold...pure gold... Who was the mentor and who the
student?
(to Be Continued)