Officer x You (Fifty-Two)
Overhead background, overhead background, different world
Privately designed characters, privately designed names and places
A total of 8k～
There are many people coming in and out of Clay Castle these days, all wearing gray-black military uniforms. The thumping sound of their leather boots stepping on the ground is like a death warrant, and the sound of "Long live the king" salutes makes your scalp tingle.
Theresienstadt is different from other ordinary camps. It is a model camp intentionally built by the authorities. The prisoners here are either well-known dignitaries, business tycoons, artists, scholars, or decorated war heroes.
For example, the in-laws of composer Richard Strauss (also the composer of the soundtrack for the American film "Gone with the Wind" and the godfather of Max Steiner, known as the "Father of American Cinema"), the son of conductor Oscar Strauss, and even the daughter-in-law of Thomas Mann, who won the Nobel Prize in Literature for "Buddenbrooks", are no exception.
Emilia's entry into Theresienstadt undoubtedly proved her former prominent background, but Schleicher shot her in public. Although it was in accordance with the regulations, it also seriously affected the overall image of the camp.
The hidden consequences of this execution are like the flapping of a butterfly's wings, about to trigger a raging tsunami thousands of miles away.
Susie took Emma to sit lazily on a bench in the castle courtyard. The rainstorm ended, and the fallen leaves of the tall lime trees scattered all over the lawn, leaving a patch of green that had not yet been cleaned up.
You were delivering something and passing by the compound, you smiled faintly and waved to your daughter and Susie in the distance. When Emma saw her mother, she instantly showed you her white millet teeth, and Susie also nodded to you to reassure you.
When you returned to the commander's office, you happened to catch a new round of investigation by the Security Department. You quickly sat back in your office area and started recording your work.
"Sir, I'm sorry, this is just a routine matter. The Governor will not be informed of this matter. Please don't worry and cooperate with our investigation."
After the security personnel saluted, they carried out their work in a procedural manner.
You knew the latter part of that statement shouldn't have been recorded, but the word "Governor" still confused you. Which Governor? What did this incident have to do with this "Governor"?
I felt an inexplicable uneasiness in my heart.
On the other hand, Schleicher had no worries about being investigated. As you typed, you glanced at his expression, and he looked as relaxed as ever, even with his legs resting on the desk, looking relaxed and contented.
Schleicher unexpectedly threw the order on the table to the security officer, who quickly leaned forward and reached out to take it.
"The general made it clear: 'I demand that all future cases of attempted desertion, once verified, be hanged immediately upon order. The hangings shall be carried out in the presence of all prisoners in the camp in question, and the reasons for the executions shall be announced to serve as a warning to others.'"
"But, sir, your measures have indeed affected the Theresienstadt camp..."
"Wasn't the news blocked long ago? Besides, I spoke with the minister earlier, and the documentary about Theresienstadt has already been filed and reviewed. I'll let everyone know that the Führer gave those pigs a great city!"
Schleicher took his legs off the table, his impatience evident in his words. "Alright, that's enough. Just write a clear report and send it to the general. Kitty, don't remember this."
You nodded and stopped recording. After you handed the record file to the secretary, when you came back, the security people had already left.
Schleicher sat at the table in your office area, dismantling the typewriter with tools he had found from nowhere. When you were typing just now, you did feel that there was something wrong with a certain key and the speed of the paper.
You sat back down, sighing inwardly as you slumped over the table.
You received a notification sound indicating that the system task was completed, indicating that Alexi had successfully escaped, but Emilia didn't.
After investigation, it was found that the boy in the children's camp was not Emily's child, but there was no point in pursuing the matter at this point.
It's not that you can't understand Emily's escape. After all, who would want to stay in purgatory forever? As long as there is a glimmer of hope, there will definitely be people who take the risk.
Schleicher unscrewed the typewriter, removed the rollers and the platen, glanced at you casually, pulled out a long strip of paper, tore it into several pieces, and covered your face with them all like a lunatic.
"Kitten, what are you thinking about?"
"Scum."
You angrily slapped the notes off your face with your hand, then sat up straight. The more you thought about it, the more sorry you felt for Emilia. Finally, anger came from the bottom of your heart, and you crumpled all the notes into a ball and threw them into the trash can in anger.
Schleicher raised his eyebrows, tilted his head, and scratched his ears with his hands. "My dear madam, was I hallucinating just now?"
You were so angry that you couldn't hold back. "I say, Schleicher, you are a scum, a scum, a rotten man, a lunatic, a devil!"
Schleicher was listening to this, and instead of getting angry, he looked very pleased. With quick movements of his hands, he had already corrected the typewriter and pressed it back on.
"Well, that's right, Ina. You described it very well. Do you have any other more exaggerated words?"
You pursed your lips and said nothing.
He jumped down from the table, leaned forward to where you were sitting, and smiled maliciously, "Actually, there are other words that are more appropriate, such as - hooligan."
The safe distance between the two people is too close, and you are already at a complete disadvantage. Just when you are about to get completely furious, the instigator waves his hand lightly and returns to his position.
After the teasing, Schleicher warned: "Kitten, I don't care what your bloodline is, please behave like an honorary Aryan. Put away your cheap sympathy for those damn pigs and do your job well!"
You rub your hands tightly, feeling that "kitten" is no longer a code name. You seem to be a real pet cat that the owner teases when he likes you and kicks aside when he hates you.
Until the sharp nails dug deep into the flesh, the stinging sensation brought you back to your senses. You swallowed back your tears of grievance and replied stiffly, "Yes, sir."
The atmosphere was depressing for a while.
Schleicher scratched the blond hair on the back of his head, realizing belatedly that his words were a bit too harsh, but he felt he should remind you, so he didn't offer any further comfort.
Soon, the office returned to silence, with the occasional sound of pens scratching across paper.
Schleicher flipped the paper and without even looking closely, he wrote the words "rejection" in a casual manner on the "transfer application" document and signed his name.
You kept sitting there with your head down, your eyelashes covering your light blue eyes. You sat there in a daze for a long time. Schleicher called you several times but you didn't hear him.
He noticed something was wrong and walked over to hit the document on your head, his face full of helplessness, "Yina, my little cat, I was wrong, I was wrong, I shouldn't have spoken in such a... um, serious tone just now."
You were in a depressed mood, and your reaction was slow. It took you a long while before you slowly raised your head.
"What do you want me to do..."
"Send it to the secretary. Never mind. I'll go out by myself..."
The transfer application documents passed by your eyes, and your eyes caught that name, followed by a huge panic after a great shock.
You stopped Schleicher, stood up as if you had been electrocuted, and snatched the document away. The words "Reject to accept" were so glaring.
"What's wrong?"
Schleicher frowned in confusion.
The tone just now was too harsh and scared the kitten again.
“I…I…”
You swallowed hard, not knowing how to start. "I thought of a book."
Schleicher was even more confused. "What book?"
"The Diary of Anne Frank... Schleicher, can you please accept..."
Before you could finish the rest of the sentence, a burst of electricity suddenly passed through your head, giving you a splitting headache, your vision went black, and you almost fainted on the spot.
It was the first time Schleicher saw you have such a severe headache. He was so shocked that he quickly hugged your falling body and carried you to the sofa in the living area.
"Hurry up and prepare the car for me, I need it right away! Yes, I'm leaving for the medical camp now!"
He turned around and quickly answered the phone outside. While talking, he turned his head to look at you. You were struggling with the system painfully.
After he finished the call, you also calmed down, rejected Schleicher, took a deep breath, and leaned weakly in his arms. You hated the system that brought you to this era, and felt a deep sense of powerlessness as if you were being toyed with by fate.
You cried, tears blurred your eyes, sobbing: "I don't want to stay here..."
Schleicher knew you had headaches, but he didn't expect them to be this severe.
He said sympathetically, "Wait a minute, kitten. Sorry, wait a minute. I'm still trying to figure it out."
The documents that Fiennes prepared for you and Emma to go to Switzerland have been completely invalidated. Even though your Swiss citizenship is not subject to the law that deliberately restricts the influx of foreign population, Emma is not.
German citizenship is acquired based on jus sanguinis, meaning that nationality is not determined by place of birth but by the nationality of the parents.
Although Emma was born in France, Feinz is a naturalized German, so your child automatically obtains German citizenship at birth.
What is a neutral country? Neutrality means "strict neutrality, betting on both sides."
It is obvious that as the war progressed to its later stages, the outcome of the war was so clear that the neutral country Switzerland was afraid of post-war international public opinion and intended to pass a new bill to set up a military zone and require passers-by to produce documents with the official seal of the federal government in order to restrict the entry of Germans.
After you left, Schleicher picked up the "transfer application" document again, which he had not even looked at carefully.
It read: "The Westerbork transit camp is accepting four prisoners with blood family ties, one of whom is a male prisoner who has served in the German government and has received official decorations, thus meeting the eligibility requirements for admission to Theresienstadt camp.
We are now asking if Theresienstadt Camp is currently able and willing to accept them. The following is a list of the four prisoners.
Father, Otto Frank, 55 years old
Mother, Edith Frank, xx years old
Sister, Margot Frank, 18
Sister, Anne Frank, 15 years old"
Schleicher stared at the last name on the transfer document, frowning in thought, his lips pursed, before slowly uttering a few words: "The Diary of Anne Frank..."
No one in the office responded to his confusion.
On August 19, the Westerbork temporary transit camp in the Netherlands received a reply letter that Theresienstadt had refused to accept. Fifteen days later, Anne and her family were sent to the Polish hell city.
No one can change the course of history
…
The gates of Clay Castle were wide open, and Schleicher stood there to greet the incoming guests. Susie helped you hold Emma, and you stood together.
The Horch car with a red and black flag passed the bridge connecting to the Theresienstadt camp and arrived at the gate of Klee Castle on the other side of the river. The guards trotted forward and opened the car door.
"Auntie, Auntie——"
When Emma saw the beautiful aunt who had always been friendly and considerate to her, she immediately kicked her legs and tried to jump out of Susie's arms.
Dalia got out of the back door of Horch's car and saw the excited Emma at a glance. She went forward to take her over, and Emma was given intimate kisses on both cheeks.
There was actually a German Shepherd getting off the car with Dalia. It had a double coat, strong muscles, and was in good spirits. When it saw Schleicher, it kept barking and wagging its tail.
The ferocious German Shepherd you saw in the toy store on Charity Street left a deep impression on you. You were afraid that it would hurt Emma, so you protected Dalia who was holding Emma.
Schleicher noticed your panic, called out "Louis", and snapped his fingers. The German Shepherd then obediently followed the guard away, even looking back every three steps. He was very smart.
"Auntie's dear little baby, I haven't seen you for over two weeks. Do you miss Auntie Daisha?"
"Baby Emma misses her auntie——"
Dalia was moved by Emma's innocent words, "Ah! Our Emma knows that she is a baby!"
The German Shepherd left and you breathed a sigh of relief. Turning around, you saw Dalia and Emma being intimate, and your mood improved a lot. You smiled at the heartwarming scene in front of you, and tidied up the little strands of hair on your daughter's forehead.
At the same time, a well-maintained woman got out of the back seat of Horch's car.
Lida Baarova, the real protagonist today, the queen of Prague movies, is also rumored to be the favorite woman of the Minister of Propaganda of the Empire.
She looked elegant and melancholic in an organdy dress, black pointed stilettos, and a stylish wide-brimmed hat.
"Dear Miss Barova, welcome to Clay."
Barova symbolically extended a hand to Schleicher, who took it and kissed it.
"Sir, you're exaggerating. It's my highest honor to have you invite me."
Schleicher grinned. "Ms. Barova, I'm not exaggerating. You don't know that not long ago, Richard Strauss stood right here, proudly announcing his name and demanding to see his family. The guard at the door waved his hand, and without even drawing his gun, he fled in disgrace."
"Sir, you are so interesting to talk about."
Barova covered her lips with her hand and gave a coquettish smirk.
The two people over there are obviously acting, and you, Susie, and Dalia are standing next to them, and the three of you have the same indescribable expression on their faces.
From this glimpse, we can imagine how comfortable Schleicher was in the social world of the German upper class.
Barova shifted her gaze to you and Susie, "Who are these two?"
"This is Mrs. Hodgkin, and this is Susie."
Without further introduction, Schleicher led everyone into the lunch that had been prepared long ago, leaving an intriguing expression on Barova's face.
Inside the restaurant, the dining table was covered with a thick damask tablecloth and decorated with exquisite and noble porcelain plates and silver cutlery.
The lunch food was all authentic Czech cuisine, steamed dough, roast chicken with peach, chive and cheese, potato soup, and round Czech donuts filled with strawberry jam.
The servants standing quietly by were several women selected from the Theresienstadt camp. They were very decent in appearance and manners and could speak German and Czech.
Perhaps they were once countesses and noble ladies who needed others to serve them.
But when you come to Theresienstadt, no matter how noble a person is, there is no difference, because here no one is treated as a human being, everyone is the same.
Schleicher raised his glass and suggested a drink. Barová raised her glass towards Schleicher, who was sitting across from her, and returned the toast.
"Commander Schleicher, you are the proposer of this film, and Mrs. Schleicher, you are the largest investor in this film. I am truly grateful to you and your spouse for giving me the opportunity to appear on the big screen again."
As the hostess, Dalia smiled slightly and took a sip of red wine.
"Ms. Barova, funding this film is a token of my appreciation for the Empire. You don't have to take it to heart."
Barova raised her glass again, her velvety eyes shone with melancholy. She stood in Dalia's shoes, wishing her well and sighing:
"I wish you two a happy and fulfilling marriage. Interfering with other people's marriages is something only low-class people would do."
Hearing this, Schleicher frowned, his eyes flicking over to where you were.
You were concentrating on feeding Emma who was sitting in the high chair, and you didn't care about the social event at all, let alone those suggestive words.
"Yes, I never believed the reason why you were banned by the Empire."
Schleicher withdrew his gaze and chuckled. Although he was obviously complimenting her, every word he said was actually hitting at Barova's sore spot.
Rumor has it that she and the Minister of Propaganda had a falling out for some unspeakable reason, and overnight, all film industries in the empire and occupied territories completely banned Barova.
But everyone in the party knew that the man who controlled the empire's propaganda mouthpiece was afraid that his ferocious wife would retaliate against the helpless Czech woman with even more terrible means.
The atmosphere suddenly became awkward.
"Ms. Barova, the past is like smoke and clouds. You don't have to take it to heart."
Dalia quickly made amends, "I loved the movie you made with Matthias Weimann, The Patriot, and I also really enjoyed your song 'Paris, You Are the Most Beautiful City in the World.'"
"The Patriot" tells the story of a German pilot who crashed in France, escaped from the rubble, and fainted on the road. He was rescued by a passing French theater troupe, and he fell in love with Theresa, played by Lida Barova, the granddaughter of the troupe's director.
In this movie, Germans and French people fall in love passionately across borders, but they both love their own countries. In the end, forced by the current situation, the two lovers are reluctant to separate with the beautiful wish of reuniting in peacetime.
"Mrs. Schleicher, thank you very much for your evaluation."
Barova looked nostalgic. This was also the movie she was most satisfied with. She regarded the heroine in the movie as herself, but she did not have enough courage like the heroine.
In the war years, whether to be loyal to love or to be loyal to the country, this movie released as early as 1937 has left people with an answer for reference -
Theresa was loyal to her country and she personally sent her lover to a military court, but she was also loyal to her love and she did everything she could to prove her lover's innocence in court.
Not long into the lunch, someone called Schleicher away, apparently for something urgent.
Dalia, who was always generous and decent and regarded etiquette as the highest priority, did not continue to host the banquet, but left with Schleicher.
For a moment, the only people left at the banquet were you, Emma, Barova, and the servants who stood by like Czech puppets without any unnecessary movements.
"Mrs. Hodgkin, have you ever seen a movie in which I acted?"
As soon as the host and hostess left, you could no longer remain silent. You wiped the corners of Emma's mouth with a napkin and let her hold the spoon and drink the thick soup herself.
Then he looked at her and replied, "Ms. Barova, I'm sorry, I don't watch movies very often. I usually watch more operas."
"Then you must be a typical Aryan woman on a daily basis," Barova smiled melancholy and touched her cheek strangely. "The Führer likes women like this the most."
You gave her a small smile, “Maybe.”
In the eyes of men, the most typical Aryan woman is a housewife. Their natural duties are to serve their husbands, reproduce offspring, and do housework. They are born to be mothers unswervingly.
So much so that when the order to conscript women was issued at the end of July this year, the man was still heartbroken and shouted: "This sacrificed our most cherished ideals, and we paid a huge price."
You don’t know whether Führer likes it or not, but you know that Feinz should like it. After all, this is the image of an Aryan man’s wife that he was taught since he was a child.
You didn't talk to Barova anymore, always feeling that she had an inexplicable hostility towards you. You prepared chicken for Emma and continued to take care of your daughter's meal. You were completely satisfied with your baby and didn't want to care about right or wrong.
…
In the evening, after you finished telling Emma a story, you supported your head with your left elbow, patted Emma gently with your right hand, and hummed a lullaby softly.
"Mom, I miss home, Dad, Grandpa, and Aunt Mandy..."
Emma's small body was completely hidden under her thin blanket. Her little feet shrank under the blanket, causing the blanket to wrinkle layer by layer.
You patted your daughter's head. "It's almost time, my sweet Emma. Let's go to bed first, okay? Tomorrow, there's a Czech puppet show, and there will be lots of other children there."
"Puppet! All the children must play with Emma—"
Emma closed her big blue eyes. Little children have no worries. Just a few words from her mother made her forget all the thoughts she had just had.
"Okay, then baby, you need to go to bed early so you can see the other kids tomorrow."
"Baby Emma is asleep..."
You continue to pat your daughter gently, your heart beginning to feel anxious. Today is August 23rd. August is almost over, and the liberation of Paris will probably be in the next few days.
Staying in Prague is definitely not a long-term solution, but where can you take Emma? I don’t know if there are any more hidden quest lines...
As you were thinking, Emma fell asleep, and you lay down too.
In the middle of the night, you woke up as usual, got up to check on Emma, bent down to kiss her forehead to check her temperature, and tucked in the thin blanket that belonged to her.
The dim light filtered in from the direction of the door, reflected on the wide-brimmed hat with a skull pattern, and flowed along the superior shoulders and neck, to the perfectly proportioned waistline.
The light shines downwards, outlining blurred light and shadow, revealing a body with a strong sense of sculpture.
Despite the dim light and blurry eyes, you still recognized him.
As soon as Feinz took off his wide-brimmed hat, he turned around and saw you wearing only maroon silk pajamas, with your blonde hair draped behind you. You looked soft and gentle, and you even ran towards me in a hurry without wearing slippers.
"Ina."
All you can think about is the time when he came to see you on his way back to Berlin from Paris for work, and he only stayed for a short while until you fell asleep.
"Are we leaving soon? I'll go wake up Emma. Brother, you, you wait a minute..."
"Yina, don't worry, brother will stay for three days."
The man placed his hands under your armpits, lifted you up with a little force, then supported your hips and lifted you up upright. The coldness on the soles of your feet finally left.
You were up there, hugging his neck. Only for three days? Well, compared to last time, three days was a lot...
After Fiennes finished washing up, the two of them lay back on the bed. Emma was still sleeping soundly in her dreams. Almost half of the large bed was given to his daughter. In order to avoid affecting her, there was a gap in the middle of the bed, and you and Fiennes were covered with another quilt.
You lay on your side, clutching the quilt with your hands. In the darkness, tears rolled out silently and non-stop from the corners of your eyes. Big tears fell like beads with broken strings. After a while, your face was covered with tears.
"Ina?"
Feinz turned over and found that something was wrong with you. He touched you and felt his hands were cold. He quickly took the tissue from the bedside and wiped your tears.
He held you up in his arms, sitting you up and turning on the night light beside the bed.
You struggled free, facing him, kneeling on the bed, glancing sideways at your daughter, and then turning back again, your face full of grievance, "Brother, I know you're still very disappointed in me..."
After a hasty farewell in Paris, when you met again, you couldn't feel your brother's intimacy as before. Your heart ached and tears came to your eyes.
But in reality, he was too tired.
The general only gave Feynz five days. He flew from Warsaw to Berlin, then to Weimar, landed at Prague Airport, and then drove to Theresienstadt.
He kept compressing his time and had no rest at all just to come back to see you and your daughter.
"Ina, go to sleep," Feinz hugged you again, holding you with one arm and wiping your tears with his free hand.
You shook your head, a little incoherent: "Brother, I, I have no choice, I really don't want to stay here, I can only go home after completing the mission, I have to go home, I must take Emma home..."
Feynz didn't reply, but the arm around you tightened and tightened, and he took a deep breath. The veins on his hand bulged from the effort of restraint.
To him, every word you said seemed to carry a sharp thorn, piercing his beating heart through his fragile skin.
He can only go home after completing the task. It turns out that the home his sister has been shouting about returning to is in London, England.
After you calmed down, you buried your head in his arms, not noticing his abnormality at all. You sniffled and continued to ask with sobs.
"Brother, why did you come back suddenly?"
"There's a mission."
The man's palm strokes your smooth and delicate back.
The touch feels real, and the sound is a little mute.
"What mission is it?"
"Assassinate Charles de Gaulle."
His tone was too calm, as if he was talking about the weather.
But for you, it is like throwing a huge rock into deep water, which immediately causes a huge stir in the lake of your heart.
Wha…what?
You raised your head in panic, and suddenly met a pair of dark, deep blue eyes with a hint of scrutiny in them. Then, your lips were bitten by Fiennes.
He hugged you completely to his body, held the back of your head, and without any pause, began to desperately plunder your breath, deliberately taking advantage of your fear of waking up your daughter and forcing you to swallow all the soft and moist moans, as if only this could relieve the dying thirst of both of you.
Until the child's unconscious murmur in his sleep breaks this kiss that is so strong that it almost suffocates you.
You felt as if all your bones were taken away, you lay limply on him, gasping for breath, tears inevitably falling, your thoughts were in a mess, and the lingering mist filled your light blue eyes.
The light from the night light shines brightly on your slender neck. The bruises have not completely faded, and there is a little blood scab on the broken skin under your right ear, like a tooth mark.
Feinz lifted your blonde hair, his brow furrowed, “What’s wrong with your neck?”
I searched a lot of information but couldn't find Edith Frank's age, so I used xx years old to express it. It was mentioned in Chapter 25 of "The Diary of Anne Frank".
The Easter egg is a preview of the next chapter
Red heart is the driving force of renewalbr>
No gift record
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