It was at this moment that the question on everyone’s lips was finally broached.
“Dr. Groedl, your immensely talented protégé has been silent on his most significant victory. It is spoken of everywhere, high and low. Perhaps now, so late, among those of us who remain and are discreet by nature, he could be encouraged to tell.”
“Yes, tell us.”
“We must know. It is so fabulous.”
“I presume, gentlemen,” said Dr. Groedl, “you are not referring to his victory in the mountains, when he brought off the most successful anti-bandit operation in the history of the Kommissariat.”
“No, no, that is mere soldiers’ duty. The other one.”
“All right. Yusef, I officially unlock your lips. Tell us how you defeated Battlegroup Von Drehle and its Green Devil assassins in the campaign of the Andrewski Palace.”
The laughter was intense. All loathed and hated the parachutists for their élan, their disdainful attitude, their contempt, quite openly expressed, for the goals of the Kommissariat, and for their very cool boots and helmets, which no one but they were authorized to wear.
“I fear I disappoint you,” said Salid modestly. “Like many legendary actions, its reality was far more prosaic. As Dr. Groedl authorized, we of Police Battalion had taken over the Andrewski Palace as our quarters and base of operations. Dr. Groedl understood that we needed security, comfort, and containment to foster unit cohesiveness. We needed privacy for our prayer rituals, which sometimes create enmity among the unenlightened.
“Laborers had already removed all personal gear and storage, as well as communications equipment and ammunition, left by the Green Devils. I supervised the removal, and I was diligent. It was not done harshly or punitively, and nothing was lost or damaged. There was no cause for complaint. I could not be responsible for Army Group North Ukraine’s baffling refusal to inform Battlegroup Von Drehle of the move to new quarters, or rather, to a set of tents adjacent to shop platoon of Fourteenth Panzer’s maintenance section. That was not my responsibility! I owe no apologies for that. I cannot interfere in army business any more than I would accept the army interfering in mine.
“So there I am at 0100, going over intelligence reports, when I hear screaming and yelling at the gate. I immediately go out to investigate, and there is a phenomenal scene. These men—soldiers I could not call them, they were more like Indians or, I don’t know, scouts, cowboys, Natty Bumppos, I don’t know what, certainly not military—were demanding admittance. They all had beards and unkempt hair, and their faces were smeared with black dirt like war paint, and they were dressed in these tattered ragamuffin camouflage smocks, and they had these comical conelike helmets. Eventually I located their commanding officer, this Von Drehle—”
“That one! The race car driver! Oh, possibly he slept with an American movie actress five years ago and thinks he’s a god or something!” somebody said bitterly.
“I explained that we were fresh in from the field, and a very successful foray it had been, and Dr. Groedl himself had approved our occupation of the Andrewski Palace. It was a military necessity. Well, it came down to rank, and it turned out the fellow wasn’t even sure if he was a captain or a major! Imagine. That’s how indifferent he is to military protocol. I managed to hide my shock and keep things at an even keel and explain that while I hated to flaunt connections, so unnecessary between officers, I did have the ear of Dr. Groedl and I would not hesitate to use my connections and it would be in his interests to relent on this one. I told him I had no choice. I was obeying the will of the party, the Kommissariat, Dr. Groedl, and I could not be held responsible for quartering decisions. Then the feldgendarmerie arrived, and after a bit more yelling, the fifteen parachutists were finally led off to their new bivouac area.”
At that point, a young officer in the uniform of a Wehrmacht Hauptmann entered the room stiffly, his eyes locked unerringly straight ahead. He came to the senior group leader–SS and bent to present a message.
“Hmm, what’s this?” said Dr. Groedl as he took it. He opened it. In a few seconds, his eyes lit up, and then a smile blossomed on his blubbery little face. “Well, well, good news from the front for the first time in quite a while. It seems some of our fellows blew up a bridge somewhere, and all the Ivan tanks will be stuck on the wrong side of the river for a few days as they lash together some pontoons. Our little outpost here in Ukraine lasts just that much longer!”
The gentlemen raised their glasses.
“Long live our leader, our brave boys, and our crusade of purification,” said Dr. Groedl.