Post by Qualerei on Feb 28, 2007 23:24:32 GMT -5
France, Normandy - May 12th 1944 - General staff headquarters, château de Caen
At almost four in the morning, the sky was still dark, although already it lightened in the west. The castle was silent - well, as silent as any place can get in war-time. There were no bombs, no gunfire, no shouts. Just the peace and quiet, occasionally disrupted by the whirr of staff cars passing by, and the quiet chattering of the guards on duty, too soft and faraway to reach the ears of a sound asleep Hans Speidel. The general stirred slightly, and rolled over, but without awakening. He had been able to go to bed at only two in the morning, after taking care of a few more details, and he was utterly exhausted. The thing was, it was always the same problem ; he took care of a few minor details, and a few others, and before he realized it, it was almost time of waking up for another day. And it had been going on like that for the last week. Why were so many of his subordinate so completely unable to take any initiative ? After fighting for almost five years...
The alarm clock, set on the bedside table, showed 3:49 a.m. Slowly, the longest hand moved a millimeter to the right, and it was 3:50. At this point, the alarm clock emitted a shrill. There was a meeting in less than ten minutes, and had he been thinking straight, Hans would have rubbed his sleepy, red eyes, yawned, and gotten up to dress and go to said meeting. But, the state he was in, he unconsciously moved his hand towards the offending alarm clock and slammed his fingers on the device. It hurt a little, but he got the desired result - the sound stopped. Satisfied, Hans buried his face in the soft, warm pillow, and stopped moving.
However, the longest hand of the clock kept moving, slowly but steadily. It passed the number twelve, then the one, then the two. It was aiming at the three when someone obviously decided Hans was really going too far, being nearly fifteen minutes late. This mysterious someone gave a sharp order, much to the amusement of the other men witnessing the scene. Three soldiers clicked their boot enthusiastically and left the room in strides to carry on aforementioned orders.
"Anyone taking bets on how long it will take them to bring him back ?" a whisker amiably suggested.
Laughter echoed in the room. Hans was still fast asleep, but not for much longer.
_____________________________________________________________________
The castle was pretty old - it had been built in the eleventh century, after all. That's probably why it went collapsing on Hans' head, bringing him down on the cold tiled floor. Although, judging from the sound of excited voices, it seemed more likely that he was being attacked by an Allied commando or something. Had he been in full possession of his mental abilities, Hans would probably have realized that commandos were quite unlikely to be shouting, in flawless German, no less. But since he wasn't, he acted purely by reflex, and did what any man would have done in this situation.
"What the... !" Not entirely awaken yet, the general blindly reached for his Lüger, that he kept at all time on his bedside table. Fumbling in the dark, he felt something cool under his fingers - probably the glass of water he had half-drunk before going to bed - and then, the familiar shape of the gun's handle. He grabbed it and pointed it at his assailant, with understandably questionable aim.
"I surrender !" someone shouted in German, and the general blinked, trying to make out the face of the man... no, the men, who had interrupted his sleep, but he could only see dark figures, so he reached for the switch and put on the light.
In front of him, three German soldiers, who looked somewhat crestfallen. And so they should ; at three on a sleeping man, and they had let him grab his gun. All right, so he was their superior officer, but that was no excuse. Hans stared at them sternly, and realized they were all pretty young. No more than twenty, maybe even less... slightly mollified, he however still resented this interruption of an already too short night's sleep, and he glared at the three youth.
"Well ?" he enquired scoldingly. "What is going on ? Is that any way to wake up a staff officer ?" Do you realize that I might very well have shot you before I even discovered that you were Germans ? that last thought, he kept to himself, although it made him gaze even more harshly at the soldiers.
The oldest of the three clicked his heels. "We were acting on orders, sir", he barked in a voice that would have pleased any drill instructor. Hans was not, however, a drill instructor, and by a long shot. He was a tired, testy general, and that showed in his curt retort.
"Not so loud !" he hissed. "No need to wake the whole castle up like you woke me." Not to mention my headache, thank you very much. What a nice way to start a new day. If Eisenhower or Montgomery could see me now, they'd have a good laugh.
"Sorry, sir", the soldier said. He didn't look so very sorry, but he did speak more quietly.
"So", Hans resumed, "you're telling me someone ordered you to sneak in my room, make me fall from my bed, and shout loud enough for the British to hear you in England ?"
"Err - not exactly in those terms, sir", the youth said uneasily, and the general had to refrain an exasperated sigh. Enlisted men.
"Then what were the terms, exactly ?" he snapped, running out of patience.
The three young men shared a look and spoke together. "Go in general Speidel's room and bring him back here, drag him from his bed if need be !"
Feeling suddenly very, very tired, Hans sat on his bed and cast his spread and rumpled blankets a mournful glance. Obviously, he wouldn't be getting any more rest tonight. This morning. Whatever. And now, he was threatening three kids with a gun, only dressed in his undergarments. Absolutely wonderful. He would never hear the end of it. The ridiculous of the situation finally got to him, and he allowed himself a short, high-pitched laugh, close to hysteria. It took him a few seconds to calm down, then eventually he steadied himself.
"I don't think whoever gave you your orders meant for you to take his orders so... literally", he sighed. Then his gaze fell on the broken alarm clock, and his eyes widened in horror and shock. It was past 4:20 in the morning. Only then did he remember the meeting he was currently missing. He was late, and it was getting worse with each passing second.
"Well, I guess there is no need to ask just who gave you this order", he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Not to mention very few people would even have the authority to do so. At least, the three youth had the good idea to look sheepish. "Fine, get out of my room and tell the Field Marshall I'll be there three minutes after you."
They nodded hastily, only too happy to escape his scathing glare, and they disappeared quickly behind the door. Without wasting a second, Hans swiftly grabbed the first clothes he could find - fortunately, they happened to be clean and ironed, probably left there by his aide at some point during the previous day. Then he put some cold water on his face, and although it didn't really wake him up any more than he already was, he did feel better afterward. He needed to shave, too, but he didn't have the time. No, what he needed was a nice, boiling hot cup of black coffee. Maybe he'd get some during the conference. Maybe he could even get an extra-hour sleep while everybody was talking - after all, he had to be there, but who said he had to be listening ?
Discarding those rebellious thoughts, he stormed out of the room and strode to the conference room. He might have run, but he was a general, so that probably wasn't a good idea. Apparently, whenever the soldiers saw a general in a hurry, they thought it had to be caused at least by an invasion, and Hans didn't wish to make more of a racket than he already had.
When he entered the room, someone dropped his watch.
"Thirty minutes and three seconds - you owe me ten marks, Carl."
At almost four in the morning, the sky was still dark, although already it lightened in the west. The castle was silent - well, as silent as any place can get in war-time. There were no bombs, no gunfire, no shouts. Just the peace and quiet, occasionally disrupted by the whirr of staff cars passing by, and the quiet chattering of the guards on duty, too soft and faraway to reach the ears of a sound asleep Hans Speidel. The general stirred slightly, and rolled over, but without awakening. He had been able to go to bed at only two in the morning, after taking care of a few more details, and he was utterly exhausted. The thing was, it was always the same problem ; he took care of a few minor details, and a few others, and before he realized it, it was almost time of waking up for another day. And it had been going on like that for the last week. Why were so many of his subordinate so completely unable to take any initiative ? After fighting for almost five years...
The alarm clock, set on the bedside table, showed 3:49 a.m. Slowly, the longest hand moved a millimeter to the right, and it was 3:50. At this point, the alarm clock emitted a shrill. There was a meeting in less than ten minutes, and had he been thinking straight, Hans would have rubbed his sleepy, red eyes, yawned, and gotten up to dress and go to said meeting. But, the state he was in, he unconsciously moved his hand towards the offending alarm clock and slammed his fingers on the device. It hurt a little, but he got the desired result - the sound stopped. Satisfied, Hans buried his face in the soft, warm pillow, and stopped moving.
However, the longest hand of the clock kept moving, slowly but steadily. It passed the number twelve, then the one, then the two. It was aiming at the three when someone obviously decided Hans was really going too far, being nearly fifteen minutes late. This mysterious someone gave a sharp order, much to the amusement of the other men witnessing the scene. Three soldiers clicked their boot enthusiastically and left the room in strides to carry on aforementioned orders.
"Anyone taking bets on how long it will take them to bring him back ?" a whisker amiably suggested.
Laughter echoed in the room. Hans was still fast asleep, but not for much longer.
_____________________________________________________________________
The castle was pretty old - it had been built in the eleventh century, after all. That's probably why it went collapsing on Hans' head, bringing him down on the cold tiled floor. Although, judging from the sound of excited voices, it seemed more likely that he was being attacked by an Allied commando or something. Had he been in full possession of his mental abilities, Hans would probably have realized that commandos were quite unlikely to be shouting, in flawless German, no less. But since he wasn't, he acted purely by reflex, and did what any man would have done in this situation.
"What the... !" Not entirely awaken yet, the general blindly reached for his Lüger, that he kept at all time on his bedside table. Fumbling in the dark, he felt something cool under his fingers - probably the glass of water he had half-drunk before going to bed - and then, the familiar shape of the gun's handle. He grabbed it and pointed it at his assailant, with understandably questionable aim.
"I surrender !" someone shouted in German, and the general blinked, trying to make out the face of the man... no, the men, who had interrupted his sleep, but he could only see dark figures, so he reached for the switch and put on the light.
In front of him, three German soldiers, who looked somewhat crestfallen. And so they should ; at three on a sleeping man, and they had let him grab his gun. All right, so he was their superior officer, but that was no excuse. Hans stared at them sternly, and realized they were all pretty young. No more than twenty, maybe even less... slightly mollified, he however still resented this interruption of an already too short night's sleep, and he glared at the three youth.
"Well ?" he enquired scoldingly. "What is going on ? Is that any way to wake up a staff officer ?" Do you realize that I might very well have shot you before I even discovered that you were Germans ? that last thought, he kept to himself, although it made him gaze even more harshly at the soldiers.
The oldest of the three clicked his heels. "We were acting on orders, sir", he barked in a voice that would have pleased any drill instructor. Hans was not, however, a drill instructor, and by a long shot. He was a tired, testy general, and that showed in his curt retort.
"Not so loud !" he hissed. "No need to wake the whole castle up like you woke me." Not to mention my headache, thank you very much. What a nice way to start a new day. If Eisenhower or Montgomery could see me now, they'd have a good laugh.
"Sorry, sir", the soldier said. He didn't look so very sorry, but he did speak more quietly.
"So", Hans resumed, "you're telling me someone ordered you to sneak in my room, make me fall from my bed, and shout loud enough for the British to hear you in England ?"
"Err - not exactly in those terms, sir", the youth said uneasily, and the general had to refrain an exasperated sigh. Enlisted men.
"Then what were the terms, exactly ?" he snapped, running out of patience.
The three young men shared a look and spoke together. "Go in general Speidel's room and bring him back here, drag him from his bed if need be !"
Feeling suddenly very, very tired, Hans sat on his bed and cast his spread and rumpled blankets a mournful glance. Obviously, he wouldn't be getting any more rest tonight. This morning. Whatever. And now, he was threatening three kids with a gun, only dressed in his undergarments. Absolutely wonderful. He would never hear the end of it. The ridiculous of the situation finally got to him, and he allowed himself a short, high-pitched laugh, close to hysteria. It took him a few seconds to calm down, then eventually he steadied himself.
"I don't think whoever gave you your orders meant for you to take his orders so... literally", he sighed. Then his gaze fell on the broken alarm clock, and his eyes widened in horror and shock. It was past 4:20 in the morning. Only then did he remember the meeting he was currently missing. He was late, and it was getting worse with each passing second.
"Well, I guess there is no need to ask just who gave you this order", he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Not to mention very few people would even have the authority to do so. At least, the three youth had the good idea to look sheepish. "Fine, get out of my room and tell the Field Marshall I'll be there three minutes after you."
They nodded hastily, only too happy to escape his scathing glare, and they disappeared quickly behind the door. Without wasting a second, Hans swiftly grabbed the first clothes he could find - fortunately, they happened to be clean and ironed, probably left there by his aide at some point during the previous day. Then he put some cold water on his face, and although it didn't really wake him up any more than he already was, he did feel better afterward. He needed to shave, too, but he didn't have the time. No, what he needed was a nice, boiling hot cup of black coffee. Maybe he'd get some during the conference. Maybe he could even get an extra-hour sleep while everybody was talking - after all, he had to be there, but who said he had to be listening ?
Discarding those rebellious thoughts, he stormed out of the room and strode to the conference room. He might have run, but he was a general, so that probably wasn't a good idea. Apparently, whenever the soldiers saw a general in a hurry, they thought it had to be caused at least by an invasion, and Hans didn't wish to make more of a racket than he already had.
When he entered the room, someone dropped his watch.
"Thirty minutes and three seconds - you owe me ten marks, Carl."