Date: Fri, 01 Oct 2004 19:37:46 +0000
From: Jeffrey Fletcher <jeffyrks@hotmail.com>
Subject: Two Jubilees...Part 30


This is a story that involves sex between males.  If such a story is
offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue,
go and surf elsewhere.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific
person or persons.  If there is any similarity to any real persons or events
it is entirely coincidental.

The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned
to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it
may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written
permission of the author.

My thanks to John and Michael who have read this through and made a number
of corrections and suggestions.  Any remaining errors , grammatical,
spelling or historical or whatever are entirely my fault.

If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on
Jeffyrks@hotmail.com.  I  aim to reply to all messages.



Two Jubilees and One Spitfire.


Resume:- Trevor has now got his Ph.D. and is going to work for the Board of
Trade in London.

Part 30:- A trip to Germany.

Trevor thought there were two things that he ought to do before leaving
Nottingham.  He did both in the same way.  He took Professor Double O'Brien
and her husband out for a meal at Grange Farm.  The Professor's husband was
a Reader in Bio-Chemistry, and was an expert in his own field of study
doing a lot of work for the Medical Research Council.  The couple made an
interesting pair.  Whereas she was short, he was tall.  Whereas she was
rotund, he was emaciated.  She was dynamic and argumentative, and he was
quiet and tended to take the role of an observer.  Trevor and Double O
spent most of the meal arguing.  Her husband turned his head one way and
then the other like a tennis umpire keeping the score.  All three enjoyed
the evening.

At the end of the meal Double O sat with her arms and her ample bosom
resting on the table.  "Thank you, Trevor, for a most enjoyable evening.  I
shall miss you.  I have enjoyed working with you.  If I can ever be of any
help do not hesitate to ask.  In any case keep in touch."

"Thanks Prof.  I owe you a lot, not least all your extra help over the last
few months with the book."

Double O waved her hand dismissing the thanks.  "Where are you going to
live in London?"

"I'm going back to live in Leytonstone.  I half own the house there."

"With your guardian?"

"No.  Isaac now lives in Israel, in Tel Aviv.  We've got a couple of
tenants, living there.  They were undergrads here, and went down two
summers ago."

"Tell me, Trevor.  I am afraid this is a personal question.  Has there been
a girl friend?  Or is there a girl friend?"

Trevor blushed.  "My landlady's daughter tried to seduce me,
  but did not succeed."

"These tenants of yours, male or female?"

"Male."  Trevor was slightly embarrassed by this interrogation, and it
probably showed.

"You're not the marrying sort?"

"No," replied Trevor with a sheepish grin.

Double O reached across and patted Trevor's hand.  "We're liberal on these
things, aren't we, dear?"  she said turning to her husband, who nodded.
"Has there been anyone special while you've been up here."

Trevor nodded.  "Yes, an overseas student.  He's been back home for nearly
a year, and I still miss him greatly."

"I hope you find someone, Trevor, I really do."

A week later Trevor was back at Grange Farm, this time with a larger party.
Ron and Sue Bamford, their daughter Betty and her fiancee, they were to get
married in six weeks time.  Also Mrs Corder was there, she was
contemplating going into a home where she could be looked after full time,
as her arthritis was getting worse.  The meal went well, with a lot of
laughter, and leg pulling all round.  Several times they all expressed the
wish that Kundi was there with them.

Mid morning two days later Trevor was ready for off.  His Morris Minor was
packed.  "I don't think I could get another razor blade in," was his
comment.

He went through the house into the kitchen, where Sue had prepared a cup of
coffee for them both.

"I'm going to miss you, Trev."

"I'm going to miss you all too.  This has been a real home from home.  You
have really looked after me well.  It is back to Leytonstone, to seeing
about my own washing, and cleaning, and food."

"The other night at Grange Farm," said Sue.  "Kundi was mentioned several
times.  You miss him a lot don't you?"

"Yes.  He was a good friend.  It is strange to think of him married, with a
child on the way."

"Was he more than just a good friend, Trev?"

Trevor looked at her with a shocked expression on his face.  He felt his
face go a beetroot red.  He looked down, and nodded.  "Yes, more than just
a friend," he whispered.

"I thought so.  You were so happy together.  I realised one evening when
you came back from a walk in the Dukeries.  There was a sort of glow about
you both.  I hope you find someone else.  You can love more than one person
in the course of a lifetime.  I am glad you have experienced such love.  I
don't judge you because it was with another man.
  I think women are often more understanding of these things than men.
They have their own difficulties.  I don't think any of the others
guessed."

"Thanks Sue, for everything.  And thank you for what you've just said.
You've been like a mother to me."

"And you, Trev, have been like another son.  Remember there is always a bed
for you here.  Keep in touch."

They stood up, and gave each other a long hug.  Trevor kissed Sue.  "Thanks
Sue."  They went out onto the pavement.
 Trevor got into his car.  He waved as he pulled away.  Another chapter of
his life was now over.

***

As with his school days, and with his University studies, this account of
the life of Trevor Russell is not going to go into details of his working
life.  He began work at the Board of Trade on 1st June 1961.  His work was
varied.  It involved research, and travel.  Frequently his German and
French was called into play.  He was soon appreciated as a conscientious
worker.

He resumed living at 37 Chelmsford Rd, in Leytonstone.  He joined the
multitudes that travelled to work each day, usually strap hanging, on the
tube. Greg and Mark remained for a while as his tenants.  This worked well.
He had wondered if he would feel bad about knowing what they were probably
doing the other side of the bedroom wall, but he found he usually dropped
off to sleep quickly, so it was no problem.  He resumed going to the
theatre and to concerts.  He nearly always went alone as Greg and Mark had
different interests.  On the evenings when they were all in the house they
usually ate together, and had a good night drink together.  There were
televisions in both the front sitting room and in the living room.

One evening early on the three were enjoying their bedtime drinks and
discussing their days.

"Trev, Mark and I are concerned about you," said Greg.

"Oh!  In what way," replied Trevor.

"We've got each other, and you still seem to have no one."  said Greg.

"You're still missing Kundi, aren't you?"  added Mark.

"Yes, I'm still missing him - a lot."

"Life moves on, you know." said Mark.

"Yes.  I suppose all my other relationships, Harry, Isaac, Con, Fergus, and
Kundi, have all just happened to have fallen into my lap as it were.
Nothing has happened like that.  And what happened at Burton-on-Trent did
not help.  If someone came along, someone at work, or at a concert or
something, it would be different."

"Why don't you go to one of these pubs in London which are known to be
haunts of men who like men?" asked Greg.  "We've been to one or two of
them.  They are quite interesting!"

"I think Burton is the answer to that.  I don't want to repeat that
experience."

"I can understand that," said Greg.  "We've made quite a number of friends
who are friends of Dorothy.  What do you say, chaps, to a wine and cheese
party of men like ourselves."


"Okay by me.  Only no match making by you two," stipulated Trevor.

On a Friday evening three weeks later there was a party at 37 Chelmsford
Rd.  There were fifteen men present.  It went well.
  There was one group of four that often went to the theatre together, and
Trevor was invited to join them.  Another group went walking once a month
on a Sunday, and Trevor was invited to join them, as were Greg and Mark.

Two weeks later Trevor went off to join the walkers down in Surrey.  They
met at and did a seven mile walk involving Box Hill and the famous stepping
stones across the river.  There was a certain amount of fooling around on
the stepping stones.  Afterwards they went to the leader's house near
Bromley, where they had a meal and spent the evening together.  Trevor was
asked if he would like to lead a walk in the Epping Forest area, as that
was an area near to where he lived.

About twice a month he went to the theatre with that group.  Both groups
were friendly, some of those who went were couples, but the majority were
unattached like himself.  There was quite a bit of sharing of stories, and
information about safe meeting places were shared.  Trevor was slightly
disappointed that no one in either group either turned him on or was
interested in him.  But they all became part of a widening circle of
friends.

***

Trevor's first trip abroad on work was a forty-eight hour visit to Paris.
He found that his French more than passed muster, and he could both
understand and be understood.

At the beginning of July Trevor was summoned to his superior's office.

"How good is your German, Russell?"

"I am better at speaking it than writing it.  I learnt to speak it rather
than write it.  I can also read it, and have done a great deal of that."

"I have no German.  Would you mind if I called in someone to check out your
German, as there is a job that needs to be done, and to send a fluent
German speaker as a member of the delegation would be a big asset. If you
go, you will probably be away for a month."

The next day a German expert called in on Trevor.  Three minutes of German
conversation and Trevor was told he would be ideal.

It was a small team of three that left for Germany.  Trevor was by far the
most junior member of the team, but he was the only fluent German speaker.
They travelled to Bonn, and then onto Cologne and Hamburg.  The main part
of their work was to be done in West Berlin.

West Berlin at that time was a tense city caught up in the cold war.  It
was divided between West Berlin, the zones of occupation of the British,
French and Americans; and East Berlin, the occupation zone of the Russians.
In the West part of the city, there was extensive rebuilding and growing
economic life and vitality.  In the East the heavy hand of Communist
orthodoxy weighed heavily upon the place.  Its main feature seemed to be
the blocks of plain grey worker's apartments.  The Communist authorities
had tried to get their hands on the West by a blockade, but this had failed
because the necessary supplies were flown in by the Western powers.  That
had been a very tense time.  But it more or less set the rules of the cold
war; both sides were prepared to do everything up to but excluding starting
a shooting war.

Berlin in the summer of 1961 was a problem for the governing authorities in
the East.  The open border between the zones of the city meant that many
were migrating from the East to the West, attracted by the freedom, and
prosperity that they could see and experience.

Trevor and his companions arrived in West Berlin by train on the evening of
Tuesday 25th July 1961.  They went straight to their hotel.

The next morning they began work, and Trevor found that his German put him
in an important position.  Not only was he able to talk directly to his
German counterparts, but as a result of his studies, he had a considerable
background knowledge to some of the discussions.  He soon found that the
other two Brits. were referring to him.  He found this very demanding and
tiring.

On the Thursday evening Trevor felt in desperate need of some fresh
air. "I'm in need of some exercise and fresh air, anybody coming?"  he
asked the other two after their meal.  They declined his invitation.  He
walked along the streets in the warm evening sunshine.  He was amazed at
the extent of the rebuilding that had been carried out after the ravages of
the allied bombing and the street fighting.

He began to feel thirsty, so decided to go into a bar, before returning to
his hotel.  It was a small bar, and as he entered he looked around and saw
that there were few people there.  There were a couple of men chatting at a
table, and a middle aged married couple talking and laughing together.
Trevor walked up to the bar and ordered a beer.  He sat on a stool, paid
for the beer, and promptly drank half of it.  A couple of minutes later a
man about Trevor's age entered.  He was just over six foot tall, strongly
built, with closely cropped blond hair, and piercing blue eyes.  `A typical
Prussian type,' thought Trevor.  The man came up to the bar and ordered a
beer.  He carefully counted out a low value note and some coins to pay for
his drink.  He too drank half the glass.

He looked across at Trevor.  "Good evening," he said in English

"Guten Abend," replied Trevor.

The man looked at Trevor.  "I apologise I thought you were English," said
the man in German.

"I am, I come from London," replied Trevor with a smile still speaking
German.

"You speak German well.  Most Englishmen do not speak so well.
 My name is Hans."  He held out an hand for Trevor to shake.

"My name is Trevor.  I was taught German as a boy by my guardian, he came
from Austria, from Vienna."

"That is why you sound a native speaker.  You do not have the accent of
German taught as a foreign language.  You've a slight regional accent.
Yes, it's Austrian."

"I was also taught it at school, but did not enjoy it so much.  I enjoy
speaking it, and have done a lot of reading, but I am not so good at
writing German," responded Trevor with a smile.

"You here, business or pleasure?"

"Business.  Not many Englishmen come to Berlin on pleasure at the moment."

It was Hans' turn to laugh.  "True.  We live in difficult times."

"Are you a true Berliner?"

"I was born here.  I live in the East Zone."

"Oh!  Do you come across often?"

"When I can.  When I can afford it.  There is not much money over there,
and everything seems very expensive over here."

"Why do you come then?"

Hans thought for a moment.  "Have you been to the East?"

"Not yet.  We're off to Leipzig and Chemnitz, or Karl Marz Stadt, as I
believe you are calling it now, for a couple of days next week."

"You will notice the difference.  I come over here, not just for the bright
lights."  Hans looked around to make sure nobody could here and added, "But
also for a taste of freedom."

"As bad as that, is it?" asked Trevor.

Hans grinned.  "When you see the apartment blocks for us to live in.
They're just like prison blocks.  I feel I can be myself when I come over
here.  But tell me about England."

The conversation turned to England and then back to Germany again.

"We must be about the same age," said Hans.  "Both child survivors of the
war."

Trevor nodded.  "My Dad was killed in the blitz in 1941."

"I'm sorry.  My mother and sister were raped by the Russians when they
first came."

"How terrible.  When did you know?"

"I saw it all happen," murmured Hans.

"Did they survive?"

"They are alive.  My sister eventually married.  My mother used to be such
a happy person.  She now rarely smiles."

"Your father?"

"Killed on the Eastern Front."

"War is a terrible thing.  It must not happen again.

"Mankind does not seem able to learn the lesson.  We are close to war again
now.  The East and the West are like a couple of dogs circling each other,
snapping and snarling."

"Let's change the subject.  Do you have your own apartment?"

Hans gave a rather bitter laugh.  "No.  I live with my mother,
 and my sister and her husband and two children, in a two bedroom
apartment."

"How do you manage sleeping?" asked Trevor.

"My mother sleeps with the two children, and my sister and her husband have
the smallest room."

"And you?"

"I sleep on a made up bed in the living room."

"Not much privacy?"

"None.  That is a part of the freedom coming over here and sitting in a bar
over a beer."

"Not much privacy talking about yourself to an Englishman," said Trevor.

"No.  But strangely it helps to talk to somebody whose circumstances are
different," added Hans.

"What would happen if you were to get married?" asked Trevor.

"I think that the authorities would have to do something then.
  They disapprove of overcrowding."

Trevor blinked, as to him the situation Hans had described was a case of
overcrowding.

"How many live in your home?"

"I live in a three bedroomed house.  My guardian lives in Israel now."

"A Jew?"

Trevor nodded in reply.

"There is much guilt around," whispered Hans.  They were silent for a
while.  "Surely you don't live in your three-bedroomed house alone?"

"No.  There are a couple other men.  We were all students together at
Nottingham."

"So you each have your own bedroom?" asked Hans with a note of incredulity
creeping into his voice at the thought of such luxury and freedom.

"Greg and Mark sleep together," said Trevor without thinking.
 He immediately realised what he had said, blushed and put a hand to his
mouth.

Hans looked into Trevor's eyes.  "They are lucky."

"You think so?"

Hans nodded.  "Do you mind?"

"No.  Would you?"

Hans shook his head.  "No."

There was a further silence between them.

"That is one of the reasons I come over here.  Freedom to be myself,"
whispered Hans softly.

"I can understand.  Do you have someone special over here?"

Hans shook his head.

"Do you ever meet someone?"

"I have two or three times.  But nothing lasting," said Hans.
  "Do you think I am evil?"

"No - far from it."  There was silence.  "Would you like another beer?"

"Yes, please.  But I cannot afford to buy you one in return."

"Don't worry.  Let the rich, decadent, immoral west pay for it," said
Trevor with a laugh.

Trevor bought two more beers.

"Are there many like my friends Greg and Mark around?"  asked Trevor.

"It is totally illegal, and dangerous if you are caught in the East.  Over
here it is tolerated as long as it is not too openly displayed.  You need
to know where to go."

"This bar?" asked Trevor.

"Sometimes, but not often.  I met a man in here once, about twelve months
ago."

"Where did you go?"

"His place.  He had one room.  Accommodation is fairly tight in the West.
The after-effects of the war.  But not as tight as in the East.  But what
is the situation in England?"

"Difficult still.  I was nearly arrested a few months ago.  The police were
using an agent provocateur.  I kept my head, and said my lawyer would be
interested in that.  They warned me and sent me on my way.  It was a nasty
couple of hours.
   A few years ago there was a high powered report that recommended making
it legal when done by two consenting adults in private.
 There is some talk of changing the law; but no political party is willing
to take up the issue and court unpopularity."

"I did not realise that things were still difficult in England."

"We're a persecuted minority," said Trevor.

They looked into each others eyes, both wondering whether to take the risk
of making a suggestion.

"Would you like to come back to my hotel, and have another drink there?"
asked Trevor, with one of his cheeky grins.

Hans grinned back, and nodded.  They finished their drinks and made their
way back to the hotel.  Trevor's room was small.  It contained a single
bed, one chair, and a small wardrobe.  They entered the room, and Trevor
immediately locked the door.  He turned to face Hans.  At once they were in
each others arms.

"I've never made love to an Englishman," said Hans.

"I've made love to a German, a man from Frankfurt, who stayed with us for a
couple of Christmases."

"Your guardian know?"

Trevor laughed.  "Oh yes, he knew.  That's why he brought him over."

"For you?"

"For himself, but he did not keep him to himself."

"So your guardian....?"

"Yes, my guardian too." said Trevor.

"It sounds an interesting and complicated story."

"It is, but I am not going to tell you now.  There are more important
things to do."  Trevor began to remove Hans clothes.  But Hans had other
priorities, he reached down and
 undid Trevor's flies, and reaching in extracted the half limp cock.
Trevor's cock hardened immediately.  Hans knelt down and placed Trevor's
cock in his mouth began to use his lips and tongue.

Trevor groan with instant pleasure.  But it was too much, too soon.  He
pushed Hans head away.  "I shall climax now if you carry on like that.
It's been a long time."

Hans stood up and began to undo Trevor's shirt, rubbing his hand all over
the hairy chest.  Trevor removed Hans' shirt, and in turn ran his hand over
the smooth almost hairless chest.

"It's been a long time then?" asked Hans.

"Yes, a very long time.  Nearly a year!"

"A year!  How have you managed?  It's been about six weeks for me, and
that's been hell.  Why so long?"

By this time they were naked, and their cocks were thrusting at each other,
their hands were running up and down each others back and cupping buttocks.

"I had a very special friend."  continued Trevor, "who I loved a great
deal.  But he was an overseas student and had to return home.  Since then
no one.  There was the incident when I was very nearly arrested for
approaching a man in a public convenience.  That has made me very reticent
about doing anything."

"You poor man.  I hope I can give you a good time."  Hans pulled away and
lay down on the bed.  Trevor joined him.  For a while they lay side by
side, as close as they could get, crotches grinding strongly together.
Rampant cocks pressing into each other.  Hands on each others backs and
feeling deep between each others buttocks.  Legs entwined.  Lips and
tongues exploring each other's mouth.

They made groans of appreciation.  They whispered words of endearment.
They enjoyed each other.

"And now, my Englishman, how exactly do you want to end your year of
enforced chastity?"

Trevor thought for a moment.  "I want you to fuck me, and take a long while
over it."

"And how do you want me?"

"At least to begin with, you on your back, and me sitting on your prick.  I
want to be able to look at you in the face," answered Trevor.

Trevor still had his old skills.  The techniques he had acquired over the
years were brought into play.  He took a long while.  By slight movements
he kept bringing both of them to the verge of climax.

"Trevor, you don't climax quickly and then go away. I think you are going
to make me shoot, and just as we reach the point of no return you stop, and
we both calm down."

Trevor gave Hans one of his cheeky grins.  "I've done this more than once
or twice."

Hans laughed.  "I'm glad.  This is the best for me.  How long are you in
Berlin?  Can we do it again?"

"I'd like that."

A few minutes later Trevor brought them both to the climax.  He felt Hans'
spunk gush out deep inside, and that triggered it for him.  His spunk shot
out strong and copious onto Hans chest and stomach.  It may not have been
as much or so strong as Kundi's, but very few men would have been ashamed
of the result.

Trevor remained sitting on Hans, watching the smile of total bliss on his
face.  He felt the German's cock begin to soften and decrease.  After five
minutes it slipped out.

"Thanks Trevor.  Are all Englishmen as good as it as you?"

"I don't know.  I was well taught, and have had quite a lot of experience."
He got off Hans, and they cleaned themselves up on a hotel towel.  Trevor
looked at his watch.  "Do we have time for a quick drink in the bar before
you have to get back."

"If we're quick. But I'm afraid I cannot pay!" said Hans.

"The filthy capitalist west will willingly pay," said Trevor with a laugh.

Over the drink they arranged to meet again on Saturday 12th August..

Trevor was in East Germany going to Leipzig and Karl Marz Stadt [Chemnitz]
over the next few days.

***

On Friday 11th August the British trade delegation had been invited to a
formal dinner.  This was to be an important occasion for Trevor.  He found
himself sitting next to a University professor.  In the course of
conversation Trevor divulged that he was getting a book published in the
autumn.  When the professor learnt that Trevor had done research into the
economic consequences of the German customs union, he bombarded Trevor with
a lot of penetrating questions that soon evolved into a deep discussion.

"Do you give lectures, Herr Russell?"

"Sometimes," answered Trevor.

"Would you come back to Berlin and give a lecture at the University?"

"I would have to get permission from the Board of Trade, and possibly the
Foreign Office as well; but I'd like to."

***

Early on the Saturday evening Trevor made his way to the bar.
  He only had to wait for about five minutes, before Hans arrived.  Trevor
bought him a beer.

"I'm sorry I can't buy you a beer," said Hans.

"That's okay.  You will more than pay me in what we do later," whispered
Trevor with a broad grin.

"Good.  I've found it hard these last few days waiting for today.  When are
you going back to England?"

"Next Wednesday."

"So we could meet again before you go back?"

"Certainly.  I'd like to," said Trevor.  "Have you thought of coming over
to the West.  A lot of people are."

"I've thought a lot about it.  We've even talked about it.  But my mother
doesn't want to leave Berlin.  `These things will pass,' she says of the
present regime.  `The Kaiser passed, Weimar passed, the Nazis passed, God
curse them!  And the present lot will pass.  But I stay.'"

"But what about you?  Can't you leave her, and come over to the West.  You
could almost certainly come to England.  I could keep you until you got a
job, and you should have no difficulty over that."

"I'd have to be in the West for a while, before coming over to England.
I'll talk it over with my mother, and sister."

"Drink up," said Trevor, "I want to get back to the hotel."

They finished their beers, and quickly made their way back to Trevor's
hotel room.  Immediately they were in each other's arms, cocks were
aroused, and lips and tongues went into action.

"Let's get stripped off," said Trevor.

Soon they were naked and on the bed.

"I just don't know how I have borne it for so long without a lovely sexy
man in my arms," said Trevor.  He lay on top of Hans, his groin thrusting
at Hans hard cock.  He got hold of Hans' hands and putting them either side
of his head, entwined his own fingers and held Hans down.  "I've got you
now."

Hans was almost powerless, but he did not object.  "Do what you want.  You
can have me any way you wish."

"Let's do it the opposite way to last time."

"I was hoping we'd do that.  I want to see if I can make it last out and be
as good as you made it the other night."

Trevor lay on his back with his greased cock rising hard and strong almost
vertically.  Hans manoeuvred into position, and holding Trevor's cock, he
slowly lowered himself.  The penetration was slightly more difficult than
it had been the earlier night, as Hans was less experienced, having had
fewer cocks go that way.

"What's the secret, Trevor?"

"Much is just watching me, and avoiding your own climax.  If you see that I
am nearly there you must stop.  It is easier to stop for yourself, harder
to stop for the other man.  I'll let you know when I'm getting close."

Hans observed Trevor closely, and was soon able to tell by the expression
on Trevor's face when a climax was approaching."  He also watched the
frequent clear drops of pre-seminal fluid emerge from the tip of his own
penis and drool onto Trevor's stomach.

Eventually Hans made one movement too many.  "Damn I've lost it," he cried.
His own penis throbbed and his spunk shot out all over Trevor.  But that
also triggered it for Trevor.  He pushed his groin up, and his cock entered
as deep into Hans as it would go, and he felt the flood of spunk flow out.

They looked at each.  Both had a glow all over them, and a broad smile on
their faces.

"That was great, Hans.  You certainly made that last.  Come over to the
West.  Come and live with me in London, and we'll be able to make love
whenever we want."

"That'd be nice."  Hans lent forward and kissed Trevor, and Trevor's
softening cock slipped out.  They both laughed, and lay side by side.

Again they went back to the bar for a quick beer, before Hans went back to
the East.  They started discussing when they could meet again.  "Monday or
Tuesday?"  asked Trevor.

"Tuesday.  I wish it could be both evenings"

"Why not?" asked Trevor.

"The authorities get suspicious if you cross too often.  Though they know
until now I have always come back."

"Why not stay over here, and get to England?"

"Maybe.  I'll think about it, and talk it over with my family.  It would be
great."  Hans eyes were bright, it was obvious to Trevor that he was
getting quite excited at the possibility.

"Tuesday, same time, same place?" said Hans.

"Same time, same place," repeated Trevor.

***

During the night of Sunday 13th August 1961, the East German authorities,
with Russian assistance, erected a fence round the whole of West Berlin.
No one was allowed to cross from East to West.  Those who tried to make a
break for the West were liable to be shot.  Soon the fence was replaced by
a wall.

Jeff at jeffyorks@hotmail.com