Date: Fri, 22 Oct 2004 10:33:04 -0400
From: carl5de@netscape.net
Subject: OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 32 - DAS ENDE

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!

Thank you, Ed C., for your devoted help on this section of the story!


PART 32

(Revisiting the End of Part 31)

Teetering between shock and hysteria, Sam told Rolf that he appreciated his
"dealing with the matter" [the matter of Sam's moral obligation to Manfred
and Stefan Goettingen through their grandmother who died immediately before
the survival exercise].  "I have only one question," he added.  "Why did it
take you nearly four days to accomplish it?"  Both men looked at each other
for a moment before breaking into hysterical laughter and reaching for the
(good) bottle of Scotch.

(Continuing Our Story: Franz Michael Eduard Peters)

At 2040 hours (8:40 pm) on the eighth of May 1948, Genevieve gave birth to
a healthy, 9 lb (4.08 kg) baby boy in a small, private German hospital in
Bad Mainburg.  For the last three hours, Sam and Andreas had paced the
hospital floors with Franz.  Andy was in reasonably decent shape, but to
put it bluntly, both Franz and Sam were a mess!  Andy was quite sure that
if the Sisters who staffed the hospital hadn't been experienced in dealing
with expectant fathers and "older sons," they would gladly have called
hellfire down upon both of them - or, perhaps better, wheeled them into a
spare operating room for Cesarians...or lobotomies!  In the Germany of 1948
they were also experienced in dealing with unwed parents.  While they
regretted Genevieve's decision to give up all claims to the baby - and
diligently prayed over her - they were thankful that the child's father was
willing to take responsibility for his actions.  Perhaps she would change
her mind once she held the child. Perhaps they knew more than they were
letting on, but at least they weren't dealing with an abortion or
desertion.  Under these conditions, they could afford to be "flexible" in
terms of records.  Further, Mother Superior did appreciate Sam's generous
gift to the hospital.  God knows, it was needed, for they had barely kept
the doors open since the latter days of the War.  The stress involved in
maintaining the highest standards of care and cleanliness, while keeping
two excellent, albeit older, doctors on their staff, had strained their
resources, physical and financial, beyond comprehension.

Once in the hospital room, following the birth, Andy didn't think that he
had ever seen Gretchen so radiant.  Her hair, her eyes, and even her skin
seemed to emit a surreal glow.  Yes, she was tired, but in her arms she
held a small "being" who Andreas was somewhat surprised to admit
immediately laid claim to a part of his heart.  True, it wasn't quite the
type of claim that he had felt years ago when he looked down at his newborn
brother, Jurgen, in his own mother's arms.  It was different...more
demanding...but as yet he couldn't define it.  In any case, with dark hair
(like that of Franz...or Sam), a cute nose, and eyes that already had
something of his mother's sparkle, he was a beautiful baby.  (Not that
Andreas was an expert on the subject!)  Sam was nearly out of his mind with
joy, but he simply didn't want to say too much in front of Franz and
Genevieve.  In large part, their decision had to have been largely
"intellectual."  At this moment, the emotional pressure on them had to be
greater than he even wanted to think about.

As Sam stood with his arms around the two boys, gazing down upon a scene
that has inspired artists throughout history, Sister came in with records.
"Herr Peters, you admit to being the father, yes?"  Sam said that he did,
gave her his full name (Samuel Winslow Peters) and both his Tieferwald and
his Boston addresses. He also signed a document accepting full
responsibility for the care and upbringing of the child.  "Dear Genevieve,
you are the mother, but you wish only your first name to be recorded.
Further, you wish to sign a statement that you are unwed and give up all
claims to the child dependent on Herr Peters' accepting full responsibility
for the child's care and upbringing.  Is that correct?"  Sister made the
notation on the birth record and gave three copies of each document to
Genevieve and Sam for their signatures.  She then witnessed them.  "Herr
Peters, will you kindly give me the name of the child for the birth
records?"  "Franz Michael Eduard Peters," Sam stated proudly.  Franz who
had been trembling, gasped when he heard his son's name.  A proud smile on
his face, he stood straight and smiled at Genevieve.  Sister excused
herself and said that copies would be provided as soon as the official
recording had been entered.  As soon as she left the room, Genevieve smiled
and thanked Sam.  "You know that 'Michael' and 'Eduard' are also family
names?"  "Yes, in my family, too," he replied.  "And 'Michael' was one of
my brothers!" Andreas exclaimed!  "I like the first name!" Franz whispered
as he leaned into Sam.  Sam just hugged him a little tighter.  "We are
agreed that little Franz will go home when Sister says that it is
completely safe?" Sam asked.  Nods confirmed everyone's agreement.  "I
think," Sam added, that you two need to be alone for awhile with Franzi.
Andreas and I will be in the lounge when you are ready to return to
Tieferwald, Franz.  There's no hurry.  After kissing and compassionately
hugging the two brave kids, Andreas and he left the room."

Sam had his document copies before he left the hospital.  As the General
had suggested at the Christmas party, he took them and said he's see what
he could do.  Some days later, Sam heard from Mother Superior that little
Franz could travel.  He drove over to Bad Mainberg with an experienced (and
very pleasant) Tieferwald woman who had been a maternity nurse for many
years and came with the finest recommendations from the hospital.  She and
her family (daughter, grandchildren) would care for Franzi until it was
time for a longer trip.  Sam and Andreas were welcome to stop by at any
time.  Neither one missed many days.

Approximately two weeks later, Sam was called into General Clemens office
and given a thick envelope from the U.S. State Department.  It contained
information needed to assure his son's citizenship, as well as papers that
would be necessary for the infant's trip and entry into his new country.
After leafing hurriedly through the documents - and commenting that he had
never seen so many official stamps and signatures in his life - Sam looked
up at the General and asked, "How in hell did you manage that, sir?"
"Well," the General allowed," I had a lot of help.  You have a
distinguished service record, and after the trip you boys made to D.C., you
obviously have some friends in high places."  Grinning, he added,
"Congratulations, Sam!"  At that, he stepped out from behind his desk, came
over to the now standing young Major, and locked him into a bear hug.  Sam
struggled to speak, but the General put a finger across the young man's
lips and sternly commanded, "Not a word, son...not a word.  Since you
arrived here in the summer of 1945, all you've done is work...for people.
It's only right that a few of your needs are being taken care of.  Just
don't tell me what I...shouldn't...can't...hear."

"Oh, yes, there's one more thing," he continued (a bit too) quickly.  "Some
of your friends here in Germany - in cooperation with your parents, I beg
to add - have given you a little departure present.  Here is an envelope
that contains tickets for an early month sailing of the RMS Queen Elizabeth
from Southampton.  After refitting her from her troop-carrying days, the
Brits have got her back on the Transatlantic run.  People tell me that
she's spectacular.  You will fly to London where you have hotel
reservations.  We have arranged for nurses to take care of little Franz
throughout the trip.  The American Embassy will meet you at the airport and
take you down to Southampton the next day.  I've been ordered to tell you
that it's ok if you don't want the tickets.  Mrs. Clemens and I will enjoy
them immensely, though she's said I can't have the nurses!"  Sam looked at
the General, shook his head wearily, saluted smartly, and soon departed.

(The Thanks of a Grateful City)

For a couple of months, the word had been getting around that Sam Peters
would not be staying in Tieferwald.  You can't keep that sort of thing
secret for long in any community.  A few leaders had gone to extraordinary
lengths to retain his services.  For instance, the Camp Director,
Dr. Mahler, had spoken personally with both the URA and UNRRA heads in
Germany.  (There was considerable interest in these reports once they
filtered back to the States, especially since both organizations were
trying to convince Sam that he should join them.)  The Buergermeister had
spoken with several officials (in the so-called Bonn Circle) who were
becoming more identifiable as leaders in western Germany, but it was too
early for them to have a discernable effect.  For some reason, the process
accelerated after Frau Goettingen's funeral when she was emotionally
eulogized by Sam.  Indeed, it became a subject of conversation among a
growing number of Tieferwald and Camp families.  When Sam finally told Andy
that he no longer had to parry the question at school and publicly admitted
himself that he would be leaving by June at the latest, local concern
ignited.  Even when additional URA staff had been assigned to the city
during the past year, the simple fact was that Sam and his "official
assistant" had been out on the streets of the city almost every day for the
better part of three years.  Too many families remembered receiving a quiet
word of hope - and some emergency rations for a sick child.  Too many
remembered his efforts to bring more coal and more food to the city during
the first two horrible winters.  They might have only received a few chunks
and a few packages personally, but they remembered that he - and America -
cared.  Too many remembered the handsome youngster with the light brown
hair who had brought flowers to new mothers at the German hospital during
the "early days" of despair - and his "brothers" who had helped refurbish
the stadium right beside them before the Memorial Service.  When it was
learned that Andy has been admitted to one of the finest universities in
America TO BECOME A PHYSICIAN, they remembered his service during the
epidemic and even earlier when the Camp had been overrun with desperate
Silesian refugees.  Particularly at the Camp, many still wished that their
children could live at DAS HAUS or at the new home for pre- teens they had
begun to hear about.  Not surprisingly, Dr. Schmidt, the Buergermeister,
found that he was the lightning rod for much of the popular unrest.
Indeed, he soon felt as if he were being roasted alive.  As he complained
to a colleague, he stepped out on the street at his peril!  The
Buergermeister didn't go hat in hand to General Clemens too often, for it
only vitiated such authority as he had - but this time he did go.  And he
found a receptive ear - not for changing something that couldn't be
changed, but for appropriately thanking a man and a teen whom so many in
Tieferwald am Main now considered to be "two of their own."  They talked at
length - "conspired" might have been a more accurate word.  Two resolutions
came out of these discussions.  The Council passed the first immediately.
A special meeting was scheduled for the end of the week, a meeting to which
Sam and Andreas would be invited.  The second resolution was more
contentious, and heated discussion continued.

The special Thursday night meeting packed the spectator seats in the City
administrative building's large Council chamber.  Men and women from all
walks of life, including those who lived at the Camp and in DAS HAUS,
attended.  The Buergermeister first lauded the work of Sam and Andy and
then announced that work would commence as soon as possible on rebuilding
the Stadtpark [City Park].  When completed, it would be renamed "Memorial
Park" in honor of all those "who had given their lives in service - in
whatever form their life paths had taken them - to God and Country."  Herr
Doktor Schmidt did say that the Council had wished to name the park after
Sam and Andy.  Council had finally accepted the two young men's arguments
for the "Memorial" designation.  Nevertheless, a large bronze plaque would
be erected close to the main entrance where the story of Sam and Andreas's
service to the people of Tieferwald during 1945-1948 would be memorialized.
Immediately to the rear of the plaque would stand simple statues of a young
adult male and a male teen.  The mayor held up a picture of Andy and Sam
taken in 1946.  Sam was in informal civilian dress.  Seated on his bike
next to Sam, Andy wore a tight T-shirt under a light, open jacket, shorts,
and his garrison cap (see Part 4/middle).  Given to him by the Major's
superior, General Clemens, it would provide the basis for completing the
statuary.  There was a second part to the resolution.  One feature within
the Park would not be restored, the ruined shell on the lower southeast
side, the shell that had originally housed a statue of Mozart.  Rather, it
would be immediately protected and would eventually serve - in its
unrestored form - as Tieferwald's World War II Memorial.  (See Parts 1 and
2.)  The Mayor asked for public endorsement of the Council's actions.
Spectators and Council members rose as one in a roaring tribute to the two
young men who sat humbly, eyes downcast, in their midst.  Knowing that it
would cause him to fall apart, Sam didn't dare to look at General Clemens.

For the first time since he had commanded American troops in the Tieferwald
area, General Clemens accepted the Mayor's invitation to attend a short
Council meeting that immediately followed the special meeting.  The
argument continued over the idea of holding a massive torchlight parade in
Sam and Andy's honor.  On one side, the majority argued that torchlight
parades were a traditional German honor.  In this case, such a parade was
both appropriate and would give the people opportunity to wish their
beloved heroes a fond farewell.  A knowledgeable minority, however, held
that in October of 1945 the U.S. Department of State had issued direct
orders to General Eisenhower with regard to the military rule of Germany.
Specifically, "No German parades, military or political, civilian or
sports, shall be permitted by you."  Further, it was argued that torchlight
parades were too associated in the public mind with Nazi demonstrations,
particularly during the 1930s.  The Mayor turned to General Clemens and
asked if he would like to comment.  The General nodded his head and rose.
"Gentlemen," he stated, "I personally feel that you should reclaim your
historical customs rather than let them be held captive by the ghosts of
Naziism, but that is clearly a matter for Germans to decide.  As regards
this particular question, I took the liberty of checking with Stuttgart
after discussing the matter with your Mayor.  My request was then referred
to the Department of Defense and the Department of State in my nation's
capital.  I understand that President Truman may have had his say.  Under
the circumstances, I was given cause to believe that permission would be
given for such a parade if you felt strongly that it was appropriate and
desired.  Thus, the decision is completely in your hands, and I, for one,
will respect it."  When the question was finally called, the vote was 14 in
favor with one abstention.  The leader of the minority said that he would
not stand in the way of the majority.  Nevertheless, torchlight parades,
especially the ones that had followed the deaths of his two sons on the
Eastern Front, had left too large a hole in his heart for him to vote
affirmatively.  Immediately after the vote, General Clemens went over to
the gentleman and placed his hand on his shoulder in commiseration.  In
1948 Germany, this was something that was simply not done, at least in
public and by anyone other than family and the most intimate of friends.
The older Council member swallowed, bowed stiffly, and extended his hand to
the General, whereupon they shook hands.  No one had ever seen that either!

Neither the Buergermeister nor the General was ever sure how a major parade
was put together in one week, but it was.  There were two large bands, the
General's full contingent (including units from several of his command
posts) and a massive German band made up of both city bands, the Camp band,
plus bands from several of the larger outlying villages.  A full brigade of
the General's sharpest troops marched...with torches.  All German adults
and teens who wished to march were allowed to do so - and several thousand,
including many of the Camp residents and every boy from DAS HAUS
did...again with torches.  Perhaps the most lasting impression, however,
may have been left by several hundred children who, guided by adults and
teens, marched with bunches of spring flowers.  Clad in traditional white
shirts, Lederhosen shorts, and kneesocks, the 17-man contingent from DAS
HAUS was particularly sharp.  (Baron Rolf marched with them.)  As they
passed the reviewing stand, they did an eyes left on Ehrhardt's barked
command and raised their blazing torches smartly in salute.  (Sam could
barely restrain a grin as he wondered how Ehrhardt had ever allowed himself
to go that far!  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Andy was
also struggling.)

The parade, wending its way through the cleared streets of downtown
Tieferwald, took nearly an hour and a half to pass the temporary reviewing
stand set up on the edge of the City Park.  Sam (in full uniform) and Andy
stood in the center, taking the salutes and cheers of all units.  The
Buergermeister, the Camp Director, and General Clemens stood two steps
behind and to the side.  Ranged in back of them were members of the City
and Camp Councils.  A good 35,000 Tieferwaldians lined the streets of the
parade route.  The united German band played marches most of which no one
had ever heard before, but they were DEFINITELY Teutonic!  (As the massive
column approached the reviewing stand, however, it broke into "As the Backs
Go Tearing By."  Sam and Andy did break into wide grins at that one!)  The
American band played its traditional blend of Sousa marches and patriotic
songs.  For the closing ceremonies, the two bands separately marched
smartly back into the main City Square...playing...cymbals flashing in the
flaring torchlight and smoke...and took positions on either side of the
reviewing stand.  After a few words by the Buergermeister and the Director
of the Camp, the German band broke into the Star Spangled Banner.  After
the briefest pause, the American band was supposed to follow with an
ancient German folk melody.  Silence...  The General glared at the Drum
Major.  Probably sweating profusely under his bearskin, he turned smartly,
raised his mace, and again signaled for the music to begin.  Silence...
Though it began in a somewhat ragged and faltering manner, the band finally
broke spontaneously into an emotional tribute to a people who had won their
respect...DAS DEUTSCHLANDLIED.  (You know: The German national anthem...
"Deutschland, Deutschland, ueber alles; ueber alles in der Welt . . . ")  A
full year BEFORE East and West Germany achieved official recognition, the
massive crowd broke into thunderous applause mixed with cheers and began
singing proudly as one.  Despite the tumult, Sam imagined he could still
hear two things happen behind him: the General's teeth falling upon the
floor of the wooden stage, and a toothless, mumbled, "There goes that
second star!"  (It never happened.  A few years later, he retired with his
second star...and a raft of commendations.  No medium-sized German city was
ever run with the combination of efficiency and heart that typified his
administration of Tieferwald - nor with such support from its citizens,
including both natives and expellees!)

(Ueber Traenen und Liebe) [Of Tears and Love]

Following the parade, the atmosphere at DAS HAUS fluctuated wildly between
forced cheerfulness, expressions of deep love, and incidents born of
depression mixed with senseless (if usually minor) aggression.  The simple
truth was that the boys of DAS HAUS were torn apart by Sam and Andy's
imminent departure.  Their slow, individual recoveries from the brink of
psychological (and, in many cases, physical) destruction had been far too
painful for the situation to be otherwise.  Yes, even though by its very
nature adolescence is - and will always remain - a time of Sturm und Drang
[storm and pressure], The House had become over time a very close and
generally happy community.  Rather than the exception, smiles were the
rule.  During the days before das Weggehen [the departure], however, they
were, at best, no more than "painted" on their faces.  Both boys and staff
seemed DETERMINED to remain cheerful even though they felt anything but.

Occasionally, this "anything but" broke out in unhappy incidents.  For
instance, one day in the shower, Horst and Heinrich accidentally brushed
against each other as they were leaving.  All of us - surely, you and I -
know that no two boys in the residence more loved Andy or, in so many ways,
were just plain loving.  Horst, in particular, was an archetypal
Sagittarian, one of the true "puppy dogs of the Zodiac."  Flaming red hair
or no, he had to be one of the easiest-going young men one could ever find.
While not as effervescent in his personality, Heinrich had grown into one
of the most pleasant and forgiving youngsters of a very appealing company.
On this occasion, however, they flung their towels on the tiled floor and,
screaming at the top of their lungs, lit into each other with fists,
fingernails, and teeth.  Balls were kneed; eyes were in danger of being
gouged.  The explosion was as brutal as it was utterly inexplicable by
normal test.  Neither one of them was able to explain his actions to
Ehrhardt when they were finally separated by Kurt and Ulrich.  When it was
all over, both tearfully apologized and spontaneously hugged.
Unfortunately, this was not the only inexplicable incident that occurred
during that terrible week.

Fortunately, there were many other moments as well.  Some, if less
destructive, were a bit...strange.  On too many occasions to count, for
example, youngsters would simply stop Andy in the halls - or, stranger
still, out on the playing field - to hug and kiss him.  And if you want a
"still stranger" note, it was the STRAIGHT boys who were more often than
not the perpetrators!  You know...  If Heinrich and Andy suddenly fell into
a clinch, only so many of the residents would have even noticed.  But how
about Andy and Bruno...or Ernst...or Ulrich?  (All of them were involved,
and there were others.)  Another display was not uncommon.  Boys would
simply drop into Sam's lap and lean against him as if they needed to be
cuddled like some frightened 12 year-old who hadn't even begun to THINK
about puberty!  (Sam assumed that they DID need to be cuddled and reacted
accordingly - even though some long sets of legs stretched over the
armrests of his chair occasionally made it difficult to walk around in the
living room!)

Frau Luisa fixed a special dinner for Sam and Andy's last night in
Tieferwald.  Afterwards, the company gathered in the living room where they
exchanged stories and jokes, and enjoyed a little beer.  After about an
hour, the First Boy brought a box into the room and gave it to Sam and Andy
"with their love."  (He explained that they had wanted to place everything
in an album, but they knew that their friends had many miles to
travel...and albums were pretty bulky.)  Therein, Sam and Andy found
separate, sealed letters from each of the boys plus a collection of
photographs that covered their Tieferwald years.  God knows how many people
they had begged for pictures, for not all had been taken by anyone they
knew.  The original of the 1946 picture that General Clemens had shown the
Council was there, as was a 1938 picture of the Stadtpark shell, showing
the statue of Mozart. Not all of the photos had been taken in Tieferwald.
There were pictures, for instance, from several different places where the
boys had begun their journeys, including Breslau, Koenigsberg, and
Karlsbad.  Two showed bloodstains.  A couple had to have been taken in
Tieferwald before the War, for they recognized landmarks.  Smiling parents
with smiling children; a school group, most of the boys wearing red
armbands that would later turn to blood...  Young, blond, proud Kurts and
Ulrichs stared out at them - and broke their hearts.  Replenishing supplies
in the kitchen, Andy asked how they could possibly keep the pictures, some
of which he suspected were the only objects that a boy had been able to
bring with him from the Memelland, or Danzig, or Budapest...or wherever.
Sam held him close and whispered, "They've given us the richest gift in all
the world, Andy...themselves.  I know what you're saying - and I love you
for saying it - but it's impossible for us to say no."  Andy knew his lover
was right, but it HURT.

That night the company sang together.  And there was some wild wrestling on
the living room floor...until Frau Luisa stuck her head out of the kitchen
archway and scowled.  "Quiet it down, or there'll be no more food and
beer," she growled.  Frau Luisa always had her way!  They joshed Bruno
unmercifully, threatening to use some of Baron Rolf's lotion on him.  He
just grinned and reminded Andy of some places where men normally have hair!
As he stated proudly, he just had a little more of it!  "Hair power!" he
chortled.  Before they went off to bed around midnight, Sam told them once
again how much he loved them and that Andy and he fully intended to return
for visits.  Before they trudged up the stairs, they all hugged and kissed
unashamedly.

That night, Andreas lay sleepless in his husband's arms and sobbed.  Sam
hugged him and sighed.  Sleep would have to come later.  "Andy, do you
remember that photo of Ulrich when he was in grammar school?"  "Yeah..."
"All of the other people in the photo are now dead, aren't they?"
"Yeah..."  "But Ulrich isn't, is he?"  "No..."  "He's alive, and strong,
and well," Sam continued.  "Chances are he'll marry Friede and have a
parcel of kids.  Hopefully, he'll live in a free and peaceful
Germany...maybe right here in the Main Valley.  How did that happen, my
beloved?"  Andreas, who was no idiot, quickly saw what Sam was driving at.
"I'm proud we helped, Sam - and now we've got little Franzi to help grow
up.  Do you think someday that he would like to see his native land?"  "Bet
on it," Sam growled and kissed his young lover on the tip of his nose.

In the morning, they departed DAS HAUS.  The three German Shepherds that
howled mournfully on the steps only echoed the sentiments of all those who
waved goodbye.  Andy thought to himself that the love still outweighed the
sadness...and he knew there was hope for a better tomorrow.

As a side note, Ehrhardt and Rolf obviously faced a monumental task in
bringing DAS HAUS and the lives of its boys back together.  The fact
remains that they were both young men of considerable skill and - though
their approach sometimes differed somewhat from Sam's - possessed a deep
love for their work and their people.  They also enjoyed several years of
close support from General Clemens.  In any case, time heals many things
and, of necessity, life must move on.

This is neither the time nor the place to provide a dry, encyclopaedic
account of what happened to x, y, and z over the next few years.  In any
case, it's simply not your author's style.  Then, too, he rather doubts
that he could get Sam and Andy out of his heart all that easily...or
quickly.  Perhaps, in time, their story - and the story of the boys of DAS
HAUS - will be supplemented.  Suffice it at this point, however, to tell
you that following das Weggehen [the departure], Ehrhardt and Rolf took
over and enhanced that which is today one of the finest homes for needy
kids in all Germany, a home still known as DAS HAUS. The tales of Sam and
Andreas remain legion...and legend.  For many years, Ehrhardt, Gretchen,
and their three children (Rose, Johann, and Samuel) lived on the grounds of
a beautiful new campus near Frankfurt, in part the legacy of the old Baron,
Otto von Hofsberg.  The present director who proudly assumed his robes and
insignia of office on Ehrhardt's retirement in the late 1980s is himself an
"Old Boy."  To no one's surprise, Baron Rolf has become his most ardent
supporter and friend.

(Southhampton)

The little caravan that included an Army nurse - a pleasant young
Lieutenant (Mary Conners) - stopped by the home of the Tieferwald maternity
nurse who had been caring for young Franzi.  There were tears, but her
daughter, and grandchildren clustered 'round to wish them all a happy
journey.  She shared a few bottles of formula with the Army nurse and
kissed Franzi one more time.  "Have a happy life, little one," she
whispered.

The trip to Rhein-Main seemed very short this time, perhaps because each of
them was caught up in his or her own thoughts.  Unlike their earlier flight
to Boston, this time they went to the private terminal where Rolf met them.
He had insisted that they use his new corporate plane to fly directly to
London.  Quickly disposing of the paperwork, they found themselves airborne
almost before the knew it.  At London, they were met by a representative of
the American Embassy.  With his help, transit paperwork was a mere
formality.  Informing them of the time of their pick-up the next day for
the drive to Southampton, the long Embassy limousine quickly whisked them
to their hotel.  As soon as "Master Franz" was "presentable," Lieutenant
Conners brought him down to Sam and Andy's suite where they all played with
him for a while.  Looking around at their lodgings, she shook her head with
an utterly feminine gesture and said, "It's absolutely lovely!"  "Isn't
your room ok," Sam asked with a worried frown.  "Oh, yes, Major, it's
beautiful.  Why wouldn't it be in the finest hotel in the Western World?"
As she left, she noticed the basket of fruit with the card of the American
Ambassador to the Court of St. James.  Mischievously, she said, "One day,
Major, I've GOT to meet some of your friends in Washington!  Good night,
sir.  You, too, Andreas!"  After the door had closed, Andy just looked at
his husband and grinned...chessy-cat-style!

After moving to the bedroom, stripping, and donning a dressing gown, Sam
opened the floor-to- ceiling sheers that covered most of the longest wall
in their suite's living room.  Arms around each other in the dark, they
stood looking down on one of the world's great cities - the capital of the
land that had kept freedom afloat while the Allies prepared to stop Herr
Hitler. They could even see the lighted clock on the tower that sent out
messages of defiance to occupied Europe.  "Brave people," Sam
sighed. Suddenly interrupting Sam's train of thought, Andy exclaimed,
"Love, I feel absolutely grubby.  I'm so sweaty, I'm miserable.  Would you
forgive me if I went and took a really quick shower before I try to kiss
the socks off you?"  "How could I possibly refuse an offer like that," Sam
grinned, as Andy raced for the bathroom.

Within minutes, the door to the bathroom opened.  Looking into the window
directly in front of him, Sam could see the dim reflection of a figure
emerging from a cloud of steam.  "Exhaust fan doesn't work," Andy
complained as he continued wiping himself down with his bath towel.  "Told
you I'd be right back!"  Andy suddenly realized that Sam was watching his
reflection in the window.  Slowly, Sam turned and faced him.  Andy felt a
sudden shudder of anticipation sweep through every cell within his body.
Slowly, almost painfully, the heavy white towel slipped from his fingers
and almost flowed onto the floor.  "Husband?" Andy murmured.  After
gesturing for the lad to extinguish the bathroom light, Sam simply raised
his hand and beckoned with two fingers for his beloved to come closer.
Andy swallowed convulsively, his muscular legs beginning to shake.  "Oh,
Sam," he breathed as he stumbled and almost fell.  His thick chest rising
and falling convulsively, he tried to steady himself on the back of a heavy
couch that faced the large expanse of windows.  Quickly removing his
dressing gown, Sam strode around in back of the lad, and gently pushed his
body forward over the couch back.  There he lay, the front of his body
resting on the front and seat of the couch, his buttocks immobilized on the
very top of the back; the backs of his heavy thighs facing Sam.

Kneeling on the thick carpet, Sam signaled for Andy to widen his stance
until his target was exposed, gently pulled his long scrotum and cock back
through his legs, grasped the top of the boy's thighs, and began licking
and nibbling at his anus.  Occasionally, he would reach down and stroke
and/or lick the lad's cock, balls, or perineum.  Tremor after tremor ran
through Andy's body.  It was as if successive waves of ripples were running
across his flesh. "Oh, Sam, I love you so," he gasped.  Abruptly, the boy's
anus opened to the invader.  Thrusting as deeply as possible into his
beloved's canal, Sam used his tongue as one might use a corkscrew, swirling
it in circles, letting the tip go just a bit deeper, tasting the uniqueness
that was his husband.  Suddenly, as Andy gasped audibly, he pulled out.
Reaching down, he locked his hands under the youth's chest and heaved him
to his feet.  His chin resting on his chest, his body nearly limp, Andy was
clearly entering that semi-hypnotic state that occasionally came over him
when he was in deepest passion.  Placing one arm around his lover's back
and under his arms, the other under his thighs, Sam carried him around the
couch to a large, heavy, low- standing oval coffee table that stood between
it and the windows.  Gently, he lay the boy down on his back on the coffee
table.  Placing a small pillow under his head (that extended to the very
top edge of the table), he noted that Andy's legs were able to bend at the
knee, allowing his feet to rest on the floor.  The boy continued to moan
softly.  Occasionally, Sam was able to make out the words, "Sam, oh Sam."

Illuminated only by the glow in the sky caused by the massed lights of the
great city, Sam rose and surveyed the beauty that lay before him.  The
golden body that radiated life and youth in the faint light of many colors,
the heavy muscled torso, the thick shoulders and upper arms, the pronounced
rim of cartilage that separated torso from his magnificent lower body, the
imposing genitals all excited him as nothing else did on this earth.
Slowly, deliberately, sensually, he began to lick Andy's skin.  When he
inserted his tongue between Andy's toes, sucking them one after another,
the boy slowly began to writhe on the table.  When he began to moan
musically, Sam knew that it was time.  Inching forward on his knees, he
pulled the lad's body towards him slightly and hefted his legs to his
shoulders.  Gently he entered him, moving cautiously, for their bodily
fluids were all the lubrication that was available this night.  Almost
immediately, Andy began to raise his head and shoulders slightly from the
table; his head moved from side to side, his heavy chest began to rise and
fall more sharply.  Sweat pooled between his abs.  As more natural
lubrication was released, Sam's thrusts became more pronounced.  "Ah-h-h!
Yes, Sam!  Oh-h-h-h-h-h...  P-l-e-a-s-e...  AH-H-H-H-H-H-H-H!  YES!  OH, MY
LOVE!  Yes-s-s-s-s...  yes--s--s--s--s...

Gently, Sam carried his beloved into the bedroom, tucked him into bed, and
climbed in after him.  Frankly, it is doubtful that either of the young men
moved a muscle before the telephone rang in the morning with their wake-up
call.  Yea or nay, the bedside lamp was still lit.

Fresh and chipper, invigorated by the shower (and a bit more!), and a
shave, they moved down to one of the hotel's smaller restaurants and
ordered breakfast.  (Whatever it was that appeared was pretty grim - and
the coffee...!  "Help, Frau Luisa," Andy moaned.)  Sam had switched to tea
- which he claimed wasn't much better - when Lieutenant Conners appeared
with Franzi's basket.  He was in fine fettle, gurgling and blowing bubbles
in anticipation of food.  Clearly, however, his nurse had had a bad night.
She seemed exhausted.  Her bloodshot eyes looked heavy; her hair was rather
limp; her makeup...not quite right.  "Sorry, gentlemen," she mumbled.
(Fresh and chipper she was not!)  "I can never sleep after an airplane
trip.  How did you two do?"  Oh, how Andy would have loved to tell her the
whole truth - and nothing but the truth - but he already recognized that
all realities have their limits.  Glancing at Sam, he lied...with
commendable skill.  "Oh well," the Lieutenant continued, "at least it's a
fine restaurant.  Maybe a good breakfast will wake me up!"

Shortly after 1300 hours (1:00 pm), the Embassy limousine appeared as
promised.  The drive to Southampton seemed very short.  (Andy kept
wondering, however, how the British were able to survive, having to drive
as they did on the wrong side of the road!  Courteously, he said nothing.)
Arriving at the Cunard docks, they were greeted graciously by a Company
representative, as were all First Class passengers.  Through a mammoth
window, they were able to see their next transportation, the glorious RMS
(Royal Mail Ship) Queen Elizabeth.  Without question, she was the finest
liner now plying the Atlantic.  Built in 1938, the last of the great
pre-war Transatlantic liners, she had been quickly pressed into service as
a troop transport.  She was so fast that she could outrun the U-boats and,
hence, was freed from the slow convoys that crept across the dangerous
Atlantic.  In October of last year (1947), she had finally entered
commercial service after an extensive refit.

"My God, she's huge!" Andy gasped.  "She is indeed, young sir," the Cunard
representative said with just a glimmer of humor in his eye.  She's the
best - and you may look forward to a wonderful voyage.

Cunard was as efficient as it was gracious, but it still took some time for
all of the paperwork to be checked line-by-line and, in some cases,
sentence-by-sentence.  (In large part, of course, this was caused by
Andreas and Franzi's "non-standard documentation," as the representative
politely put it.  It was also true that Cunard simply didn't like to make
mistakes.)  Nevertheless, it was finally over, and both Lieutenant Conners
and the Embassy driver were thanked profusely.  Handing over Franzi, the
Lieutenant left with the driver for the return drive to London.  Before
being escorted to the entry passage for the Queen, Sam was assured that his
infant son's British nurse would be waiting as they boarded the vessel.

At the gangplank, several documents had to be displayed, but Andy (with
Franzi) was able to begin moving forward.  Blocked by other passengers, Sam
was delayed slightly.  Andy had actually moved some distance before Sam
realized that they had become separated.  When Sam shouted for him to hold
up, he quickly switched Franzi from the crook of his right arm to his left,
looked mournfully at the damp spot left behind, turned, and smartly
saluted.

"Zum Befehl, Herr Major!" ["At your command, Major!"], he barked in perfect
military style.

'Gee, I wish he wouldn't do that,' Sam groaned.


				 DAS ENDE
				 [THE END]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for joining me over these past few months.  I have
appreciated conversing with many of you and thank you for your expressions
of good will.  It was wonderful to learn that the joy I found in writing
"Out of the Rubble" was being matched by the pleasure you found in reading
it.  Hopefully, our life paths will cross again.

Please let me add a special word of thanks to Ed C. who has contributed so
diligently to many parts of our story.  His efforts have indeed been a
"labor of love."

/Carl
------------------------------------------------------------------------------