Date: Wed, 4 Aug 2004 09:58:55 -0400
From: carl5de@netscape.net
Subject: OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 7

OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 7

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 7

(Revisiting the End of Part 6)

Later that evening, Sam and Andreas lay side by side, whispering about the
day's developments.  Giggling, his Official Assistant asked Sam if he could
really stand 15 teens cavorting about the house.

Sam merely grunted, whispered, "We done right, pahdnuh," and intensified
his toying with Andreas's nether parts.

(Continuing Our Story - Sargent Ehrhardt's Army)

Sitting primly, Frau Luisa (Loo-EES-uh) allowed that she found it somewhat
"strange," but if they really wanted her to comment on the files of
potential newcomers, she would.

Frau Luisa was the warm - but proper...and definitely "Teutonic" - matron
hired by Sam & Company to provide indispensable service functions for their
teen refuge.  Awed by the immensity of selecting a dozen young teens for
the first "class" of newcomers, Sam had checked with the staff of the
Children's Relief office at the City administrative building.  Somewhat to
his surprise - for the recovery of Tieferwald am Main was in its infancy
during the first months of 1946 - the staff had efficiently provided
multiple files of deserving candidates.  Sam, Andreas, Horst, Ehrhardt, and
Frau Luisa had assembled in Sam's living room to examine each of the files.
Andreas and Horst were used to Sam's ways, Ehrhardt wanted input (given his
imminent responsibilities), but Frau Luisa had more than a few problems
with this "democratic clap-trap."  Still, if they insisted...  After all,
it was a good job: her Colonel husband had died at Kursk (the greatest tank
battle of all time, and the battle that marked the watershed of Hitler's
adventure in the East); her children were gone (either naturally or having
fallen in the War); a little extra food and money would help; and, in any
case, her days were far too empty.  Given human nature, it wasn't too
surprising that she was the first to raise a strong objection.

"That Rolf boy...  Even though he served in the SS, his Tieferwald record
is good.  But he's almost seventeen!  He would only be here for a couple of
years at most.  We should select children who could profit from our
guidance over a longer period of time!"

Ehrhardt, who was himself 17 and had won his Iron Cross fighting with the
renown 12th SS- Panzer Division Hitlerjugend, stifled his irritation and
spoke calmly, if authoritatively.  Rolf had fought beside him in the West;
he sat beside him - with a pack of mere children - in a grammar
school. Ehrhardt was convinced that the young man had the ability, desire,
and requisite attitudes to contribute to the building of a new Germany.
Nevertheless, he was at a turning point in his life, and sorely needed to
be recognized and supported.

The debate continued, but Rolf was finally accepted - along with two 13
year-olds (Dieter#2 and Wolfgang), five 14 year-olds (Bruno, Ernst, Jaeger,
Otto, and Ulrich), and four 15 year-olds (Dieter#1, Franz, Heinrich, and
Kurt ).  All would have liked to see more 13 year-olds in the first class,
but there was unanimous agreement that the four 15 year-olds were
inestimably stronger candidates and, further, the other 13s in their files
were far less likely to "fit in."  Seven of the young Germans were from the
Camp; five, from Tieferwald and environs.  Thanks to staff at the
Children's Relief office, all had been interviewed - and eagerly declared
their desire to live in the new facility; all had received medical (and, in
two cases, parental) clearance.

Knowing that there was no way that he could personally fund the purchase of
needed bunk beds and equipment for the kitchen, Sam turned to the Army.
Within days, six double bunk beds and an impressive collection of pots,
pans, and other culinary equipment had arrived, having been signed over to
Sam ON LOAN from the military.  First checking that which was already
available in the house, Frau Goettingen and her friends supplied plates,
cups, glasses, cutlery, bedding, towels, and similar household gear.  Sam
himself purchased a wild collection of toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, and
other small personal objects.  URA funds ensured that the boys would not go
hungry - as long as the PX didn't run out of food feeding them - nor would
they be forced to dress in rags.

The day finally arrived.  The boys moved in - and were promptly deloused
and fed supper.  The evening was truly gemuetlich.  Frankly, Sam & Company
were amazed that the process had gone so smoothly and that "Sgt. Ehrhardt's
Army" appeared to contain so many pleasant and promising recruits.
Surrounded by a host of attractive, needy teens, Sam was firmly convinced
that he had "died and gone to Heaven."  Frau Luisa glowed, for she again
had children and purpose.  Ehrhardt rejoiced in his immediate and warm
acceptance as "Sargent and Big Brother. "  Horst delighted in having
quickly made friends with the two 13 year-olds, plus Jaeger, a youngster
who had passed his fourteenth birthday only weeks before.  Andreas was
jubilant, for Rolf had quickly indicated that he wanted to be friends.
(Their first act was to claim part of the attic for an exercise room!)
Besides, Andreas had suspicions about Rolf...but more of that anon.

(Winter's Retreat)

As is often the case, the first sign that winter might be passing was
noticed on a cold day in late February or early March.  Someone noticed
that the quality of the light was subtly changing.  Unfortunately, it would
take a few more spins of the Earth before blossoming trees would dot the
landscape and a few hearty flowers bloom in the city parks, before the snow
was restricted to patches on the hillsides and perpetually shady areas...or
before the cold and depression that gripped the hearts of the people would
begin to lift.

In the background, things were not going that badly.  Relief supplies were
arriving from the States in ever-increasing volume.  Farmers were beginning
to think planting and were already recruiting in the Relocation Camp.  The
P.O.W. Discharge Camps had begun telling the very youngest soldiers, as
well as the oldest, simply to "go home."  However contentious, the
Denatzification of the city was going reasonably well.  (On the other hand,
it was commonly claimed that the American Zone saw more nit-picking than
any other - and, did it continue, there wouldn't be a practicing German
professional left.  There were statistics that supported that claim.)
Unfortunately, the supply of coal and other fuels had not markedly
improved, and deaths from the cold seemed to be increasing exponentially.
Yes, Winter was retreating, but, as had the Wehrmacht, it was putting up a
stiff rearguard action!

All this mattered little to the boys at Sam's house.  They were young, they
were fed and clothed considerably better than their contemporaries, they
were comfortably housed.  Their mornings were spent at school; their
afternoons, in supervised study, reading, an occasional outing, exercise
and, naturally, in goofing off.  Andreas and Rolf had followed-up on their
thoughts about creating an attic exercise area.  As they explained to Sam,
the Army Base had a super gym.  Andreas was especially graphic in showing
how he was putting on some fat after months away from his Slovakian forest.
Was this a desired result of his serving as Sam's Official Assistant?
Wasn't it possible that the soldiers had equipment that wasn't being used?
After the Army's wonderful support of their furniture and culinary needs,
Sam was a bit hesitant to suggest another handout.  Needless to say, the
boys worked their magic and it wasn't long before he did.  As a result, an
extensive array of spare pieces of exercise equipment was soon trucked to
the house.  Every single teenager in Sgt. Ehrhardt's Army signed up for the
new "Exercise Club."  Inasmuch as Frau Luisa would not be allowed to climb
up to the attic - a prohibition which delighted her no end - they would
themselves clean it - and they did.  One engaging side effect of this turn
of events was that Sam was never asked to provide exercise clothing.
Rather, the attic became the land of young Greek athletes!  True, there was
an occasional objection from one of the younger boys - or from one of the
older lads who was fighting a battle that day with a body part that just
wouldn't deflate.  No boy was ever seriously pressured.  Now and again, one
would spot a pair of underwear shorts in the attic.  By and large, however,
common teenage inhibitions were tossed into the trash can.  Sam even worked
out himself now and then.  One may guess that he enjoyed the spectacular
scenery at least as much as did Andreas, Horst, and unknown others!

Andreas took special pains to involve Rolf in an exercise program.  Indeed,
they were often spotted in the attic during both afternoons and evenings.
It gave them opportunity to assume the "Big Kids" role, as well as to
deepen their friendship.  Andreas also kept insisting that something
"great" was going to happen after their common 17th birthday during the
summer - if they really got in shape.  Rolf gobbled all of this up...to the
point where several of his grammar school teachers noted that he was not
only learning to read, write, and reckon, but he was gradually opening up
to those around him.

Horst, on the other hand, was a little confused...and increasingly horny.
He really liked Jaeger - who seemed to be interested in him - but the 14th
year-old had thoroughly internalized the HJ command, "Thou shalt not fool
around."  Horst had complained to Sam that his new roommate even tensed up
when given a little back rub - and if Horst even touched his butt
accidentally...  Woof!  Still, he was thoroughly convinced that Jaeger
didn't really want him to stop!  In frustration, he would occasionally take
advantage of Sam and Andreas's invitation to join them - not they did all
that much when he did!

One Saturday night in March, a very cute naked red head suddenly appeared
at Sam and Andreas's door and, unbidden, leapt between them up on the bed.
He looked good!  The food, the exercise, and the lack of stress were
together having a markedly positive effect.  While his skin was freckled
and, like most red heads, a bit on the pallid side, it looked remarkably
healthy.  Actually, he looked as if he had put on several pounds of muscle
while simultaneously growing like a weed.  (Later, cuddling with Sam,
Andreas observed that at least one part of Horst's body was REALLY
growing!)

Sam decided that it was time to put one 13 year-old in his place and,
therefore, ATTACKED...a preemptive strike, if you will.  The tickling was
merciless!  It was Sam's fingers into his pits, Andreas's into his ribs,
Sam's into his belly-button, Andreas's onto his inner thighs, Sam's on the
soles of his feet, and on and on and on.  By this time, Horst was laughing
so hard that he just about lost it.  (In fact, he DID lose a few drops, but
what are a few Golden Driblets among friends?)  No sooner had he calmed
down a bit than Andreas attacked him with his tongue, Sam following suit.
Merciless...cruel...sadistic...inhuman...heartless - BUT SO DAMNED FUNNY!
You will guess that as Horst lay there having to take it, he began to
experience feelings that were somewhat different from laughter.  In fact as
the attack began to lose its momentum, the red head's cock suddenly swelled
and snapped to rigid attention.  The poor little tyke began to sweat
heavily and feel the furious beating of his heart.  (That "poor little
tyke" business is pure sarcasm, for Horst was now b-i-g!  Further, he now
sported an increasing amount of red hair in all the appropriate spots!) At
that very moment, Andreas head was located immediately above Horst's
throbbing member.  "Hey, Big Red, do you want me to continue?  I don't have
to, you know," Andreas responded.

"Go for it," Horst murmured breathlessly.

Andreas slowly allowed his mouth to press down around Horst's rock-hard
cock, a cock that now looked as if it extended for a generous 5 inches (13
cm).  As his lips first came in contact with Red's head, the boy gasped and
went rigid, causing his body to display every bit of its newly-won
definition.  ("Wow!" Andreas said later.  "That little guy is really
getting there.  What a body he's going to have!") His genitals - and his
face - turned nearly as red as his hair!  As Andreas continued to inhale
Horst's impressive member, alternately sucking and licking, Horst's
excitement grew.  Unfortunately, he was but 13, and the end came as
suddenly as it came quickly.

After the young teen had descended from his high, he looked at Sam and
Andreas with new- found hope.  Bending forward at the waist, his long, thin
arms curled around the necks of his gods, he begged, "Can you help me get
through to Jaeger?  I've tried everything, but that old HJ crap still has
him by the balls.  How about giving me some ideas...maybe some lessons?"

Sam was quick to say, "Hey, stud, there's no way that we're going to teach
you how to make Jaeger do anything that he doesn't want to do."

"But I know he WANTS to do it!" Red whined.  "He's just scared.  If he just
lets it happen, I think he believes the Fuehrer will appear out of a cloud
of smoke and turn him into a frog!  He's such a great guy - and he's really
built!  Maybe you can lend me some dynamite," he half-joked.

"Well, maybe we'll see how we can help," Andreas volunteered. " Want to
join us again one night soon?"

"Yes, Sir, I sure do!  And I won't jump on your bed or attack you unless
you ask me to," he continued, the look of the Devil in his mischievous
eyes.

"Ok, Big Red..." Sam said.  "Get out of here!  We need our beauty rest.)

Needless to say, Horst left the room with a mew and a squeak, and grinning
like a chessy-cat.  After the door had closed, the Official Assistant -
obviously exceedingly pleased with himself - beamed at his lover.  "Sam, I
could be wrong, but I think we done good again."

"Could be, pahdnuh," a laughing Sam responded.

("Ich Hatt' einen Kameraden")

Atypically, as if in answer to the prayers of the people, Spring came early
to South Central Germany.  April, for instance, dawned bright and
delightfully warm.  The chill, gray, wet skies that were the rule were
nowhere to be seen.  Slowly, tentatively, the people of Tieferwald emerged
from their blanketed bunkers.  For the first time in months, the death rate
at the Relocation Camp dipped.  (True, the most vulnerable cases had been
moved to sturdier shelters through the Assignment.)  Almost in shock,
Tieferwald found that it was still alive.

On reaching the City administrative building, Sam's new URA secretary
informed him that the Buergermeister had requested Sam stop by his
office...at his convenience, of course.  Strange...  Within the hour, he
appeared - and was immediately ushered into the inner sanctum.  That was
also strange, for the Buergermeister was a master of protocol designed to
show others how unimportant they were.  Sam had dark memories of hours he
had spent waiting in the mayor's outer office.  When (real) coffee and a
few delicious pastries were brought in, Sam KNEW that something was up!  It
seems that a committee of prominent Tieferwald citizens had approached the
mayor and asked that he present a proposal to the City Council for holding
a Memorial Service.  Interestingly, it would not be a service for Germans
alone, but for Germans and all others in the Tieferwald area who had lost
their lives through the War and its aftermath.  Nor would it be a service
memorializing only the dead of the Wehrmacht [the German Armed Forces as
contrasted with the Army alone], but a service that would honor all those
who had given their lives in service to God and Country.

For a good hour and a half, the Buergermeister delicately questioned Sam
about his personal reaction to such a proposal and whether General Clemens
and URA officials might be interested in jointly sponsoring the event.
Within days, Sam was able to report back to him that General Clemens could
not provide joint sponsorship, but would gladly provide logistical support,
as well as publicize the event throughout his Command.  Although URA
authorities based in Frankfurt would send representatives, they were
legally bound to use their resources to help the German people recover from
the conflict.  However fumbling and, at times, taken with himself, the
Buergermeister was a sufficiently experienced politician to know when to
gracefully - and appreciatively - accept a quarter-loaf!

Within days, American Engineers were using heavy equipment to repair the
relatively minor damage to the City's 50,000 seat main stadium that had
stood unused for at least two years.  The grassed field was cleared and
repaired as best they could; a simple stage was constructed at the East end
of the field; and sanitary facilities were provided outside the main
structure itself.  Nothing could be done with the completely wrecked
lights; a reviewing stand on the north side of the East-West oriented
stadium did not need structural repair.  As soon as the Engineers had
essentially completed their work, crews of German civilians swarmed over
the structure, cleaning, sweeping, and raking.  With Sam, Andreas, and
Ehrhardt at their side, the boys of Sgt. Ehrhardt's Army themselves spent
two afternoons at the facility, white washing every bit of unfinished wood
that could be found.  After the dark, cold days of the Winter, it was
almost a "coming out" party.  Germans of all ages and small detachments of
GI volunteers worked side by side.  Naturally, there were "moments."  For
instance, as a crew worked to refurbish the reviewing stand - from which a
large swastika had been removed when American tanks first rolled into
Tieferwald on their way south - the Germans began making apparently bawdy
jokes in their local dialect.  Not understanding a word of what was being
said, the GIs were still intrigued by their raunchy laughter.  Fearing a
possible disturbance, their Lieutenant quickly quelled the buzzing by
gruffly barking, "Knock it off, men!"  In any case, when the temporary
renovation was completed, the Stadium stood proudly, superficially looking
much as it had in 1937 when it had been dedicated by the Fuehrer.

While German work crews labored at the stadium, other committees were at
work on program and arrangements.  Sam was often invited to join them and
make "informal suggestions."  He often ended up making some valuable
contributions.  For one, his office often conveyed invitations over
military communication facilities.  Another was made at a meeting when a
young, discharged German Lieutenant - horribly scarred in the defense of
Breslau [today's Wroclaw, the capital of Polish Lower Silesia], but having
decided to life positively - offered an interesting proposal.  Inasmuch as
most German funerary/memorial music had been declared "streng Verboten"
[absolutely forbidden or banned], why not ask the Americans to send a
bugler who would play "Taps" at the end of the Service?  Transmitted by
Sam, General Clemens not only gave the proposal his enthusiastic
endorsement, but promised one of the finest musicians in his Command to
implement it!

Two days before the Service, most of the work completed, the Army hosted a
late afternoon barbecue at the stadium for all those who had contributed to
the project.  True, the grilled slices of Spam were nowhere near as tasty
as ribs, but the Germans were unfamiliar with this American wartime
"delicacy" (that stretched the meat ration on many an American table and
sustained many a GI) and found it delicious. [sigh...] They even liked the
Army beans!  The point is that there was plenty of simple food, and Germans
and Americans had a good time...together.  German teens, including our Rolf
and Heinrich, even took part in a football match against a pick-up GI team.
As the rout mounted (to no one's surprise), Rolf headed a ball into the
net, bringing jubilant shouts from the members of Sgt. Ehrhardt's Army who
stood on the sidelines.  Horst the Irrepressible shouted boldly that the
match should have been played in the nude.  Fortunately, Andreas and Jaeger
were nearby and were able to throw their hands over his mouth and subdue
him.  It was a happy scene, a scene that boded well for the recovery of a
people.


By 1600 hours (4:00 pm) on the day of the Memorial Service, the stadium was
packed.  Every seat appeared to be taken; the field was crowded by those
who sat so close together that they often touched those sitting next to
them.  (Not that all the young objected to that challenge!)  Countless
others milled about outside the structure to listen to the Service on
loudspeakers.  Young Germans performed their tasks magnificently, finding
spots for latecomers, often carrying the infirm and invalids to a protected
area.  Sam watched as a particularly crusty old Oberstgeneral [a
high-ranking "Colonel General"], a paraplegic, was carried to a seat in the
reviewing stand.  He joined a crowd of dignitaries, including General
Clemens with his wife and two children, the URA Director for Bavaria,
several religious leaders from as far away as Frankfurt and Munich, and
City officials, their families, and invited guests.  Waving to Frau
Goettingen as she and her two grandsons were escorted to their seats by a
proud young man in a carefully mended and cleaned Kriegsmarine uniform, he
estimated that there were probably two thousand discharged German veterans
in the audience.  They were joined by several hundred GIs who had decided -
on their own, without being ordered - to remember the dead, including their
buddies who had perished on the long march from the beaches of Normandy and
North Africa.  They did not sit apart, for this was not a day for
segregation.  Indeed, uniforms of several different colors were scattered
throughout every part of the stadium. Relations between the servicemen
appeared to be entirely "correct."  Indeed, in some instances, there
clearly were amicable meetings of young men who had fought against each
other so fiercely and, yet, (generally) with such honor.

As the dark pastel colors of late Spring began to color the early evening
sky, the simple Memorial Service began.  A large German choir mounted the
stage, filed onto risers, and sang two old German hymns that promised peace
on Earth and life eternal.  The Cardinal Archbishop of Munich offered
prayer.  Four young men - one a heavily scarred Lieutenant, one a highly
decorated American Corporal, one a civilian from the Camp who had been
expelled from his ancestral home in Ostpreussen [East Prussia], and one a
teacher in a local Gymnasium - briefly memorialized their buddies and their
families who had perished in the War and its aftermath.  No face in the
stadium was unmarked by tears.  As the colors of the late evening sky
flared, the choir offered another glorious hymn.  The stage cleared, a
single American serviceman strode as close as he could to those whose
upraised faces seemed to stretch into eternity.  Briefly, he explained the
significance of "Taps," at which time everyone in the stadium rose.  He
then raised his bugle and offered his exquisite gift to the dead...and to
the living.  For a moment following its close, not a sound was to be heard
throughout the stadium or from outside.

In that moment, an unplanned gift was added to the Service program.  >From
the darkening stadium, a glorious young male voice began to sing the
opening words of the great German funerary song, "Ich Hatt' einen
Kameraden" ["I Had a Comrade"].  Sam gasped, for he knew well that this
song had always been clearly associated with the military - and, as far as
he knew, no request had been made to include it in the program.  (Had it
been requested, his guess was that it would have been quickly rejected.)
Inhaling, he looked over at General Clemens who had sat down at the close
of "Taps."  Slowly, the General rose, stood at attention, and saluted.
Following his lead, the GIs in the audience also rose to join their German
brothers and sisters.  Sam exhaled.

The magnificent song rose over the stadium as spectator after spectator
joined in its singing.

     Ich hatt' einen Kameraden                    I had a comrade
     Einen bessern findst du nit                  A better one you'll not find
     Die Trommel schlug zum Streite               The battle drums were beating
     Er ging on meiner Seite                      He was by my side
     |:Im gleichen Scritt und Tritt:|             |:In every step and stride:|

     Eine Kugel kam geflogen                      A bullet came a-flying
     Gilt's mir oder gilt es dir?                 Was it meant for me or you?
     Ihn hat es weggerissen                       It struck down my comrade
     Er legt vor meinen Fuessen                   He lay at my feet
     |:Als waer's ein Stueck von mir:|            |:As if a part of me:|

     Will mir die Hand noch reichen               His hand still reaches out to me
     Derweil ich eben lad'                        While I reload my rifle
     'Kann dir die Hand nicht geben               I cannot give you my hand
     Bleib du im ew'gen Leben                     Rest on in life eternal
     |:Mein guter Kamerad':|                      |:My good comrade:|



                             Yes,   Bleib du im ew'gen Leben
                                    |:Mein guter Kamerad':|


(To Be Continued)

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Author's Note: The song "Ich Hatt' einen Kameraden" is especially important
to this part of "Out of the Rubble."  You may wish to listen to it.
Several "mp3" files are readily accessible through a 'Net search on the
song title.  Most are of poor quality, but one - a recording originally
made at Field Marshal Rommel's State funeral - is quite good.  I strongly
commend it to you.
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