Student and Teacher

[O'Donnel Aboo!]

Well, sports fans, since i am unable to run the game anymore for technical reasons, i really can't write anymore AARs. But this is a little bit of characterization i've been playing with, and i didn't know if there was a better place to post it, so i am posting it here. Most of this was written on the fly...the rest of it was written on the fly very very recently Enjoy!


Bremen, 1941

Wachter was placing ice in his glass as he heard the car approaching. He poured the vodka, not caring who was bothering him at this hour; Fritz would send the rude character away until morning. He sat by the fireplace and kicked off his slippers.

No little surprise overtook him when he heard the sharp clip-clop of boots coming down the hall towards him. The echo was accompanied by weakening protests from Fritz. When the study door opened, Wachter looked first at the tall, shiny boots. Fritz had a defeated look on his face as he presented the visitor, a beak-nosed, fair-faced man wearing the smart gray uniform of the Wehrmacht.

"It's alright, Fritzy." Wachter waved the boy away. "Sit down, Herr Martz. Can I fix you a drink?"

"I am on duty, Herr Professor." Martz's answer was terse, direct.

"On duty? I see. Reconnaisance? Scouting dangerous terrain? THis house IS a strongpoint. It used to be part of a 16th century castle, you know. But I've ordered the men-at-arms down from their posts; you'll find no armed resistance here, Captain, so you may as well sit and have a drink with your old teacher."

Martz sat stiffly in an armchair opposite Wachter as teh older man placed two cubes of ice in a fresh glass. Martz reached neither for the glass nor the vodka. They sat in silence for several minutes, the light of the fire dancing between them.

Wachter finally spoke into his glass before taking a sip: "Met any good Ubermensch lately?"

"Your sarcasm is the reason I am here, Herr Professor." Martz practically spat out the word 'sarcasm.' "I came to tell you that your outspokenness regarding the Fuhrer has made oyu a very unpopular man in Berlin."

Wachter made a sour expression. "I am an historian, what difference does it make what I say?"

"Your position at the University puts you face to face with the young minds of the Fatherland. The way you spout your views to them is against policy."

"There is little I could say to those black-clad little bastards that would undo the years of brainwashing they have already undergone. I come close to a fistfight every day because i teach history the way it happened, not the way the SS rewrote it. Propaganda must end somewhere; let it end with me."

Martz shook his head. "Your criticizm of the RUssian campaign was not well-received by the High Command"

"None of them take my class; they will not be tested on it."

"They say you are a communist."

Wachter swallowed his next comment and looked Martz square in the eye.

Martz continued. "They know all about you. That your mother was from Arkhangel. That your uncle was one of Trotsky's most trusted followers. They even know abouty our attempt to get a teaching job in Petrograd in 1918."

"They apparently know more about my uncle than I do."

"Do you deny it?"

"How can I deny that which I know nothing about? If I knew I even HAD an uncle! Did he run to Mexico with Trotsky to avoid the purges? What was his name?"

"Stop trying to make a comedy of this, Herr Professor."

"A comedy indeed. I am no less German than that miniature Hun you call 'Fuhrer.' Who cares where my mother was born? The last person I need to hear this from is YOU! You Austrian sell-sword, did you join the German army the MINUTE the panzers rolled into Vienna, or did you wait a whole day out of good manners?"

"I believed in the righteousness of a unified Germany long before the annexation of my home."

"Annexation: excellent choice of word, Captain. Obviously 'invade' would be innacurate, since Austria was but one more domino set up at Munich. How the British and the French allowed Germany's expansion at all amazes me."

"Perhaps they saw how unfair the Treaty of Versailles was to Germany."

"Then Austria's abiding by the Treaty was her undoing--how could she fend off a diplomatic assult backed by an army when they were not allowed to have one of their own?"

"Germany is only trying to rectify the injustices of Versaille."

Wachter poured himself more vodka. "The injustices of Versaille consist of too little policing of the activities of the defeated states. We were restricted to a fleet 35% the size of Great Britain's, yet Hitler builds ships anyway. We are restricted to a defensive army of 100,000 men; Hitler builds tanks and planes and guns, and outfits every man in the country! AUstria wanted peace after the Great War, so she abided by the Treaty. Hitler--NOT Germany--wanted war. He wanted bloodshed and carnage. THe maniac built hist army while Britain and France waved a finger saying "Oh, please cease this build up." Hitler and Stalin walked hand in hand like schoolchildren in a gymnasium. He pushed his army west until their feet got wet, but it was not enough blood, so he opens an Eastern Front. Operation Barbarrossa will fail because Hitler is not capable of succeeding. His failure in Russia will make Napolean's look tactically sound."

"Not capable of succeeding? Where has Hitler failed? We stand astride the continent after a campaign that left the world with their jaw hanging open. In a matter of months, we did what four years of the Great War could not accomplish. The British have been chased away. The French have capitulated. The Poles have been reassimilated. And the Russians are not ready for us."

"Those are Guderian's and Manstein's successes, Not Hitler's...do not confuse them. Hitler's undoing will come, on this I assure you."

Martz redirected the conversation. "The communists are dangerous. Hitler wanted to honor the non-aggression pact while Stalin was still alive. But our ideologies are too different. That, and Stalin was mobilizing as well; it was better to be prepared; better still to strike first."

Wachter did not hide his disgust. "The SS has done their job well if you believe that! Your insecure Fuhrer picks his friends and his enemies from the same hat. First it is die Juden, but who does Hitler name as his most dangerous enemies? Communists and Catholics. Not many Bavarians in the SS, are there?"

"Nor Austrians." Martz finally poured himself some vodka, enought o almost equal the melted ice already in his glass.

Wachter raised his glass to his old student, then emptied it. "Hitler will be disappointed to find out that Catholicism will be more difficult to defeat than Poland was. Will he march on the Vatican, or did his lapdog in Italy draw the short straw on that conquest?"

"Musolini does not even comb his hair without Hitler's approval."

"No matter; the italians would hang him for even thinking it. Kesselring will have to play the villain if that is Hitler's real objective. However, smashing the Church will prove more difficult than garrisoning a few blocks in Rome." He paused to fill his glass, then said: "are you prepared to renounce your Faith and swear fealty to no power greater than Adolf Hitler?"

Martz emptied his glass and poured himself some more, taking another sip before he spoke. He appeared to be deep in though about something, but this is what came out: "I have been told you are to be shot."

"And who told you this?" Wachter's face was an amused grimmace; this was not the first time he had heard such a thing.

"Himmler." Martz poured vodka into both their glasses and watched as Wacther's aura of smugness dropped a few degrees.

"Do you talk often with Himmler?"

"I do not."

Sarcasm returned. "No one has a sense of humor."

"Herr Professor, you are Quoted in October of '39 calling the invasion of Poland 'a coward's prank'."

"You disagree?"

"It doesn't MATTER who agrees with you! You said it to a room full of unversity students, most if which were indoctrinated Hitler Youth. Did you think it would just go unnoticed?"

"I don't say things hoping they go unnoticed. Wiemar made this country desperate, so desperate that the illusion of prosperity keeps this dictatorship frome ver being questioned. It is my duty as an educator to provide alternative viewpoints."

"You teach history!" Martz slammed his hand on the arm of the chair. "Your duty is to the past, not the present."

Wachter chuckled. "And you always received good marks in my class? The event of this morning are already history."

"Then at least tell it right. Poland was obstinate; they would not budge on Danzig."

"The Poles were in a bad position. THey hated the Russians who breathed down their backs, and feared the Germans who had been building an army and threatening them for five years. The only thing Poland is guilty of is believing in the Treaty of Versailles--and why wouldn't they, since id did, after all, make them a country. Their folly was believing in France and England." He took a big drink. "Perhaps Poland was tired of being bullied. THey stood up for themselves; unfortunately, their allies hid behind diplomacy."

"I do not think you understand history as well as you think."

"And I fear you do not understand war as well as YOU think. The leson is over; you can leave."

Martz laughed. "A lesson? Is that what this was?"

"A free lesson, too. Tell the Reichsfuhrer there is no reason to send a manhunt to look for me. I am in the middle of Festung Deutchland; where would I run to? The English Channel, only to swim to safety? Of course if Hitler's "Sealion" had worked, I'd have to swim all the way to America."

Martz stood. "Herr Himmler already knows you will not run."

It was then that Wachter noticed the pistol aimed at him. He sighed defeatedly. "So this is how it is to end? Can we at least go someplace? I would hate for my family to find my corpse."

"Follow me to the car, then, Herr Professor."

 

[O'Donnel Aboo!]

Act 2

Wachter and Martz rose together. wachter tried to ignore the weapon aimed at him. he screwed the cap onto the bottle of fvodka then placed it in the pocket of his robe.

Martz scoffed. "It is no wonder you are labeled a communist."

Wachter shook his head. "I suppose it wouldn't help if I showed you my pantry full of brawurst? I apologize, but schnapps does not appease my pallette like this." He patted the bottle in his pocket."

"Both get you drunk."

Wachter slid his coat on. "Ja, but it takes FAR more schnapps."

Martz follwed the professor into the hall, not lowering the pistol. They halted near the front door where a very nervous-looking Fritz met them. The young man saw the gun and the steeled expression on the soldier's face. He looked at his employer: "Herr Professor...?"

Wachter made an almost unnoticable shake of his head, dismissing any thoughts Fritz might have ahd about a rescue attempt. "Fritz, Captain Martz and I are stepping out. I'll need my shoes and possibly an umbrella." he looked out the window at the car waiting for him. "A black umbrella....to match the car."

Fritz only hesitated a little before leaving. Wachter turned to face his captor. "My household will be safe? I am coming along peacfully, after all."

Martz stood a little straigter. "So long as they conduct themselves like proper Germans. Pray that they learn from your mistakes and keep their opinions to themselves."

Wachter wasn't sure he liked that answer, but what sort of guarantee could he really expect from this man? He stood in slence, centimeters from the barrell of the pistol. Fritz returned and the professor put on his shoes. He handed his slippers to the young man and placed a hand on Fritz's arm. Tears were welling in their eyes. Wachter stepped back and snapped his heels together, raising his arm in the air. "Heil hitler."

Fritz was shocked but repeated the gesture. "Heil Hitler." He turned to Martz and repeated the pledge.

Martz sense the venom in the boy's voice. He considered shooting him on the spot. Instead he snapped his heels and raised the hand not holding the pistol. He then escorted Wachter out to the car.

Wachter got in the back seat, then slid across behind the driver to make room for Martz. Wachter could not see the driver in the darkness, but he assumed he was Wehrmacht.

"Sergeant--" Martz started.

Wachter interrupted: "We are late, Herr Driver, for our dinner party. I trust you know all the fastest ways to Berlin? Reichsfuhrer Himmler is not a man to be kept waiting."

The driver made no acknowledgement. martz addressed him: "Sergeant, did I forget to tell you? Herr Professor is germany's greatest commedian. His wit has been requested in Tunis to entertain Afrika Korps." His tone changed. "Unfortunately, his entertainment tour has been cut short because he does not know how to keep his mouth shut. You may proceed to the designated area."

THe engine started, Wachter nodded. "Yes, proceed, sergeant. Can't have any blood on the car. It's on loan from the SS, after all."

They pulled away slowly. wachter sat quietly for a while, not bothering to look back at his house. Martz had put his pistol away and was lighting a cigarette. He offered the case to Wachter.

The Professor looked at the cigarettes. He didn't smoke often. Part of him was compelled to take one. "No blindfold?"

Martz snapped the case shut abruptly and placed it back in his jacket pocket. He smoked casually while looking out the window. He looked far too relaxed, as far as Wachter was concerned.

He reached into his pocket and grabbed the bottle. Using the cap as a glass, he took a shot. Martz exhaled a puff of smoke audibly. Wachter poured some more into the cap, then held it out toward the front seat.

The pistol was out immediately. "Sit back, Professor."

"I thought your driver would like a drink."

"He would not."

"No? He must have a flask under the seat. He had to do SOMETHING while he waited for us." wachter sat back. "Be sure you have schnapps in your flask, Sergeant, or you could be shot."

The Sergeant said nothing, just kept on driving.

"Quiet boy you have, Captain."

Martz exhaled smoke as he answered. "Perhaps he does not find you as amusing as you find yourself."

"I think he is mute."

Martz laughed. "Is your pride wounded, Professor?"

"That is the only explanation I will accept." He offered the bottle to Martz, who took it grudgingly, taking a drink.

"Tell me, Captain, what has been your role in this War so far?"

"It is a little late to begin research, Herr Professor."

"I am just curious."

"Perhaps it is time you put aside your curiosity."

"I just find it amazing that there is a major in the Wehrmacht of your tender age."

Martz took another drink, then handed the bottle back to Wachter. He rolled down the window and pitched his shrunken cigarette out. "You should screw the cap back on that bottle, Professor; I am only a captain."

"Yes NOW. But your friend, Himmler, is quite well connected, I hear. Once you do this unpleasant little job for him, you will be a Major."

Martz said nothing.

Wachter searched the rearview mirror for the driver's eyes. He thought he had found them. "Did you know, Herr Sergeant, how to advance in the Wehrmacht? You have to know someone to become a lietennant, you have to prove yourself to be a captain. To become a major, though, you have to kill one of your friends." He turned back to Martz. "Makes you wonder what Goering could be guilty of, doesn't it?"

Martz opened his cigarette case with a smirk. He lit up, knowing his old teacher was anxious to hear what he was about to say. "You've helped me win a bet tonight, Herr Professor. Your friend the sergeant said you would have to be brought out in shackles, that you would never come along peacfully. I, however, knew you would come quietly."

"I can try to escape now, if the sergeant would split the winnings of this wager with me."

The sergeant said nothing.

Martz continued. "How did I know you would come quietly?"

"Because you had a pistol and I had a bottle of vodka."

"You would have capitulated without that token show of force. You wanted to be captured. You wanted this sorry existance of yours to come to a close." Wachter just scoffed, so he continued. "Your lectures over the past two years have gotten progressively dreary. You are such a cynic that you cannot even take joy in your precious vodka. You think you stand above the rest of the nation because you are 'brave' enough to challenge its leadership. In fact, you have only surrendered to the reality that your opinions are wrong and a proud man like yourself cannot live with that. So you dare the SS to exceute you."

"You are quite a comic yourself, Major. Did you hear these dreary lectures of mine in disguise? I haven't seen you since your graduation. But of course there must have been at least one Nazi stenographer in my class. My only question is why it took so long for someone like you to point a gun at me."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Professor, but your antics were never enough to put you at the top of anyone's danger list." He exhaled smoke through his nostrils and fixed Wachter with a trimphant grin. He looked liked some manifestation of Loki, all smiles and mischeif.

"what did you do during the Great War while your contrymen died?"

"I was a student. What were you doing besides messing diapers?"

Martz dismissed the insult with a wave and a heavy puff of smoke. "So you were hiding in a university someplace."

"And hundreds of students over the years have been glad I was. My supporters have shrunk considerably since '32, not surprisingly."

"What about the teaching position in St. Petersburg?"

"The Russians were very generous in their offer, and I was only a young man at the time. I revoked my acceptance early in '19 when i saw where things were going. Contrary to your Nazi friends, the Bolsheviks are no friends of mine."

"You seem to have an amazing gift of foresight, my dear Professor. You saw the Communist Revolution Coming. You see the fall of Hitler coming, and the failure of the Russian campaign, as well. A shame you won't live long enough to do so, but you may be the first person capable of teaching a class on the future!"

Wachter smiled, mostly to himself. "Whichever SS brain surgeon it was that worked on you did a complete job. How often did we sit after class and talk about how history had repeated itself, how the mistakes of the past constantly arise again? You KNOW I teach the future as readily as I teach the past. It is my understanding of the past that allows me to comprehend the events of the present. And to recognize a future trend when I see it."

"Very impressive, Professor Wachter, but I think there is more to your intelligence than just your knowledge of the past."

"Why thank you, Captain."

"For instance, how do you know that the Russian Campaign is codenamed 'Barbarossa'?"

Wachter side-stepped the trap. "One must only keep one's ears open in the right places to pick up such knowledge."

"Or one must have a friend in the Wehrmacht."

"I used to think I had at least one."

"Who is your informant?"

"Captain, be serious. If I even HAD an informant, what would I do with him? What use is this so-called classified codename to me, except as a curiosity? AND why would I turn over any names to you, just so your SS friends can begin a new witch-hunt after I'm dead?"

"You put enough lives in danger, Herr Professor. Your wife. Your son. The university, who could not find a way to silence you despite your disregard for teaching policy."

"Captain, you have what you want. You will silence me as easily as squashing a bug. My colleagues at the University will have their example to live by. My wife and son will be left to assume the worst. Why molest them any further? Just have the driver pull over already and end this debate!"