Date: Wed, 23 Mar 2005 00:13:31 -0000
From: Ted Gay <tedgay@btinternet.com>
Subject: MAKE LOVE NOT WAR: Episode 1 - On The Battlefield

(This is a fictional, erotic and romantic set of short wartime stories
with a strong political message, for which I make no apologies.)

Episode 1 -- On the Battlefield

It was during the Second World War, and like millions of others all over
the world I'd been conscripted to fight for the old men who had started
the whole thing. Old men like Churchill, Roosevelt, Stalin, Hitler,
Mussolini and Emperor Hirohito, relatively safe in their underground
bunkers, etc. whilst we youngsters, barely out of school, were sent out
to kill each other.

I found myself on a battlefield in Southern Germany near the Swiss
border. I'd been in several battles, and like some of my fellow soldiers
I'd always deliberately fired my gun to miss the enemy, because I was
basically a pacifist. I didn't care if I died, but I didn't want to be
responsible for killing someone else's young son. I'd tried to avoid
being called up, but they didn't believe me when I said I was a
conscientious objector because I was an atheist with no religious
beliefs.

Although I was a pacifist, I couldn't help thinking of  the advice
someone had given to young men made to fight old men's wars. I think it
was Lenin who said they should turn their guns on their own officers. If
all the young men on all sides fighting this war did that, or simply
refused to fight or deserted to a neutral country, the war would be over
tomorrow.

We had been ordered to `mop up' after our battalion had attacked a
village occupied by the Germans. Our orders were to take no prisoners,
every German soldier we found was to be killed. I wasn't told the reason
for this order, which was illegal, but knew it was not uncommon in
wartime where all sorts of atrocities occur because the normal rules of
decent human behavior have broken down. I'd seen men and children killed
and the women raped, and my fellow soldiers laughed at me because I
refused to take part in any of it.

`Look, here's a gorgeous young fraulein,' said my buddy after we
entered one house and he had shot dead the woman's father and mother.
`Rape her, go on -- she's begging for it.' I was horrified, but he had
been brutalized by the army and the hatred, anarchy and inhumanity of
war. As far as I was concerned, he was no better than the Nazis. Just a
steely-eyed killing machine, as a British officer had proudly described
every one of his men.

I thought of turning and walking away, but that wouldn't save the girl,
who I feared would be killed after my buddy had finished with her. So I
took her in the bedroom. My buddy wanted to come in and watch, and then
rape her himself, but I locked the door behind me. The poor girl looked
very scared, and was heartbroken because her parents had just been shot.

`Quick, climb out of the window!' I said. She didn't understand
English, so I went over to the window and opened it. There were no
soldiers around, and there was a forest a few yards away. She might stand
a chance if she could make it to the trees. I pointed to the open window
and said some of the few German words I knew: `Ausgehen, schnell,
schnell!'

She rushed to the window and made her escape. I watched her flee towards
the trees, then I turned to the door, but heard something move beneath
the bed. I stooped down and saw a young lad, about 16. He looked very
frightened, and he had tears in his big blue eyes. I pulled him out from
under the bed. `Rape him!' The words came into my head, for I was gay,
and whilst I had no desire to have sex with women, this beautiful young
lad with flaxen blond hair was giving me a rock-hard erection inside my
uniform trousers. He was entirely within my power, and whatever I did to
him there would be no come-back. As the victor in war, I could do what I
liked with him. He looked down and saw my trousers sticking out
obscenely, and looked even more scared.

`Bitte, nein, nein!' he pleaded.

Of course I wouldn't do it. Not unless he gave me some encouragement and
wanted me to. I pointed to the window, and said the same thing to him:
`Ausgehen, schnell!' He made for the window, but before he climbed out
he turned and kissed me full on the lips.

`Danke schen!' he said, then he climbed out and was gone. I watched him
follow his sister safely into the forest.

I had some explaining to do when I unlocked the door and faced my buddy.
I just said the window was open and the girl escaped. His reaction was
that I should have shot her so there were no witnesses to the atrocity he
had committed, but I told him my gun had jammed.

Now here I was in a similar situation, ordered to go into a German
village and kill any enemy soldiers we found. Once in the village we came
under sniper fire. In the confusion I was able to slip away from my
fellow soldiers, and enter a house on my own. Inside, cowering behind the
window, was a young German soldier, no older than me -- about 18. Like so
many German youths he was the Aryan ideal -- blond hair, blue eyes --
just my type. They really shouldn't conscript gays into the army, let
alone pacifist gays. Did they really expect me to kill a beautiful guy
like this? I'd rather he shot me instead.

When he saw me enter with my gun, he dropped his, put his hands up,
cowered down  and pleaded with me: `Bitte, please -- do not shoot!'
Obviously he thought other Allied soldiers were behind me and he was
outnumbered.

My orders rang thru my head: `Take no prisoners. Kill the Kraut
bastards! Kill every one of them!'

I went over to the German soldier -- he was trembling with fear. I put my
gun down and reached out to him, but he pulled away, thinking I was going
to kill him with my bare hands. He evidently knew some English, so I
spoke to him:

`It's OK, I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name?'

`M.. meine Namen? My name it is Karl, p.. please don't kill me' he
stammered.

I reached out and took hold of his hands. They were clammy with sweat. I
pulled him up and towards me.

`It's all right, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Jack. I'm your
friend.' I said. What was I saying? How could I be his friend? I had
been ordered to kill him, and the village was swarming with Allied
soldiers. But I knew I had to try to save him.

Still he didn't quite trust me, his lips were trembling with fear. So I
pulled him close to me, embraced him and kissed him on the lips saying:
`It's all right, I won't hurt you. We must escape.'

His reaction was instantaneous. The German soldier hugged me tight, and
kissed me back. As we hugged, I could feel his cock getting hard thru his
uniform, and he must have felt mine in the same condition. There, in the
middle of the war-zone, this German soldier and myself started to make
love. We kissed, we cuddled, we grinded our hips together. Then we undid
out fly-buttons and jerked each other. I went down on him, and pretty
soon a big German soldier's cock was shooting its cream into my mouth. I
stood up, with my mouth full of this young lad's cum, and he returned
the favor. He went down on me, and soon I was feeding him my load. We
stood up again, and stared at each other, our lips covered with each
other's sperm. We kissed again, exchanging the spunk in our mouths.

Suddenly there was a noise outside. I motioned him to be quiet, then I
ran out to the front door. A British soldier stood there pointing a gun
at me.

`It's OK, I've checked this building -- nobody here!' I said, and the
soldier turned and went. I then noticed a British army jeep outside, with
a dead British soldier at the wheel. I motioned to Karl to stay where he
was, and after I made sure the coast was clear, I ran to the jeep, pushed
the driver's body to one side, and started the engine. I drove the jeep
over to the door of  the house where Karl was hiding. I then man-handled
the body of the dead British soldier out of the jeep and into the house.
With Karl's help we managed to strip him of his uniform. Then Karl got
out of his uniform -- God, he had a beautiful body! But I had little time
for such carnal thoughts, and told him to put on the dead British
soldier's uniform quickly.

He put on the clothes, but then turned to his discarded uniform and
retrieved something from the pocket.

`Quick! We must go, hurry up. Schnell, Schnell!' I said to him.

Now dressed as a British soldier, he climbed in the jeep beside me, and I
started the motor. I drove out of the village, and headed for the Swiss
border a few miles away. We saw few soldiers, either Allied or Axis
troops, on the way. I just put my foot down and ignored everything and
everyone, till we spotted the border post. We drove thru at full speed,
some border guards shooting at our jeep as we passed. Once safely across
and several miles into Switzerland, we abandoned the jeep, and walked to
the nearest village. We were going to make for the police station and
claim asylum in this neutral country.

As we were walking thru the woods on our way from the jeep into the
village, we stopped for another love-making session. It was beautiful. We
achieved full penetration this time -- I fucked Karl, and then he fucked
me. After we had both climaxed inside each other, we just lay there
cuddling and kissing for about an hour.

`Ich liebe dich, I love you' said Karl, and I told him how much I loved
him too.

`What was it you took out of your uniform pocket back in the house?' I
asked him.

Karl smiled, and took out of his pocket a little wallet. Inside were some
photos. His mother, father, sister, brother and their little pet dog. I
then showed him the photos of my own family which I carried in my pocket.
I thought how crazy this war was -- here we were, two young lads who were
ordered to kill each other, yet we were so similar. We had no reason to
hate each other, we had just been conscripted into our respective
countries' armies, we had no say in the matter. It was old men who led
us into this war, and old men who gave the orders to the troops in their
command to kill, rape and destroy.

When I saw the photos of Karl's family it brought home to me that all
the German soldiers fighting this war were some mother's son. Many of
them were not real Nazis, they were just conscripts. We didn't then know
the full horror of the Nazi concentration camps, but I did know the Nazis
were brutal thugs. But my Karl was no Nazi, I knew that.

`Don't worry, you'll see your family soon, when the war is over,' I
said.

 Then Karl said something which broke my heart:

`No, I'll never see them again. They are all dead. They died in a
British air-raid,' he said, as tears rolled down his cheeks. I held him
close to me and kissed away his tears.

`Oh, I'm so sorry!' I said, `The murdering barbarians! The RAF --
bloody war criminals. Why do they have to bomb innocent civilians?'

After the war we learnt of the firestorm, started by British incendiary
bombs, which destroyed the beautiful city of Dresden, and similar
controversial air-raids on Hamburg and Berlin which killed thousands of
civilians - men, women and children. The British airmen who carried out
these raids, and the Americans who dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and
Nagasaki, never faced a tribunal and were never punished for their
heinous war crimes. Instead they are still feted as heroes. Bomber
Harris, who along with Churchill ordered the British air-raids, even has
a statue erected to him in London.

It still makes me feel sick that nobody on the Allied side was tried for
killing indiscriminately thousands upon thousands of innocent civilians.
These war crimes went unpunished, and this is what is known as
`Victors' Justice'.

Karl then apologized to me for what the Luftwaffe, unmanned flying bombs
and V2 rockets had done to cities like London and Coventry, committing
war crimes against the British people. We hugged again, and then made our
way to the village and asylum from this crazy war. Whatever happened,
whoever won the war, we were all human beings with families of our own.
If only we could remember that, and reach out to each other, ignoring the
old men who told us to fight for our country, or for this cause or that
cause. If only we could remember our humanity and forget the rest, as the
philosopher Bertrand Russell said.

If only, like Karl and myself, we could learn to make love, not war!

It is now 60 years since the war ended. Karl and I are still lovers. We
are in our late 70s, and living in an old people's home in Munich. We
still share a bed. I am so glad I never followed orders over 60 years ago
-- Karl was the best thing that ever happened to me, and he says the same
thing about me.

... To be continued. Episode  2 - Under Occupation