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Authors: Andrew Mackay

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Herold stopped pacing for a moment. “And therein lies the problem, von Stein…”

Von Stein gulped nervously. His throat felt as dry as a dead man’s armpit.

“You are aware of the Queen Alexandra Road explosion?” Herold asked.

“Yes, sir,” von Stein nodded. “My company took the hostages into protective custody, sir.”

“And carried out the executions?”

“As per your orders, sir,” von Stein confirmed. “Two hundred hostages were executed as punishment for the Resistance attack which killed and wounded over twenty of our men,
sir.”

“Except that the Resistance didn’t kill our men, Hauptsturmführer.”

“The Resistance didn’t kill our men?” Von Stein asked with raised eyebrows. “I… I’m afraid that I don’t follow, sir. Then who killed our men,
sir?”

“Spaniards.” Herold answered grimly.

“The Spanish?” Von Stein appeared to be absolutely flabbergasted. “I thought that we and the Spanish were friends, sir! After all that we did for them in the Civil
War…”

Herold shook his head. “Not the Spanish, von Stein. Spaniards - there is a significant difference.”

“Republican diehards, sir?”

“Perhaps…” Herold stopped pacing and looked directly into von Stein’s eyes. “And you know nothing about it?”

Von Stein looked as surprised as if Herold had asked him if he had killed his own men personally. “No… no, sir. How could I, sir?”

Herold continued to look directly at von Stein. “Mendoza’s men were responsible for the King Alfred Hotel bombing, the Queen Alexandra Road attack and were probably also responsible
for the disappearance of your three scharführers. I’m afraid that your three scharführers probably never even made it out of Hereward and their bodies are probably lying in some
forgotten ditch somewhere.”

“What? How? Mendoza is here in Hereward?”

Herold nodded. “Major Mendoza is the Military Attaché at the Spanish Consulate in Hereward.” Herold watched von Stein’s reaction.

“Mein Gott, sir.” Von Stein’s eyes bulged with shock. “What a bloody mess…”

“I think that Kophamel told his three mates about what happened in Spain and when he was killed your Three Musketeers decided to carry out a revenge attack…”

“Kophamel!” Von Stein punched a fist into an open palm. “That bloody idiot.” Von Stein shook his head in despair. “I told him to forget about Mendoza or else it
would eat him up like a cancer. He always was a hothead.”

“Wise words, Hauptsturmführer.” Herold nodded. “Kophamel should have followed your advice.”

“So what now, sir?” Von Stein asked. “Is that the end of it? Will the Spaniards be satisfied that honour has been served?”

“I hope so, von Stein, for your sake and for the sake of the Triple S Brigade and German forces in Hereward in general,” Herold said grimly.

“What do you mean, sir?”

Herold handed him an envelope. It was addressed to: “Brigadeführer Fritz Herold, Commanding Officer of the Triple S Brigade.” Von Stein opened the envelope, extracted the note,
and read the typed writing: Any attack carried out against Lieutenant-Colonel Juan Mendoza or his daughter Aurora will be interpreted as a declaration of War against the XVIIth Bandera, the Spanish
Foreign Legión, and Spain. Hauptsturmführer Manfred von Stein will be held personally responsible for the safety of the Colonel and his daughter and should any harm befall
Lieutenant-Colonel Mendoza or his daughter Aurora, Hauptsturmführer von Stein will be punished accordingly.

Von Stein turned as white as a sheet. “Surely… surely this is a joke, sir?” Von Stein smiled weakly. “I would have thought that the Spanish Foreign Legión in
Britain consisted of Major Mendoza and no more than a platoon of embassy guards in London, sir.”

Herold shook his head sadly. “I wish that that was true, Hauptsturmführer. That was certainly the case until fairly recently, but by the end of next week the situation will have
completely changed.”

“I’m… I’m afraid that I don’t understand, sir.” Von Stein’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m going to tell you this now, von Stein, because this information directly concerns you. The rest of the Brigade will find out soon enough.” Herold took a deep breath before
continuing. “The 6
th
SS Infantry Regiment is being redeployed from Britain to Poland and will leave Hereward at the end of next week.”

“But… but that will leave us seriously under strength, sir,” von Stein protested. “And what of our invasion of Scotland? We will barely be able to keep a lid on Partisan
activities in Cambridgeshire with two regiments, never mind invade the Free North.”

Herold nodded his head in agreement. “I know, Hauptsturmführer, but it’s ours not to reason why. The Führer in his wisdom has decided that the 6
th
SS is better
deployed on anti-Partisan duties in Poland. However, every cloud has a silver lining as they say, and the powers-that-be have decided that this redeployment provides a marvellous opportunity for
our fellow Fascist brothers in Arms to show their support in the common struggle against Churchill’s Jewish Bolshevik clique of war mongering terrorists.”

“Don’t tell me, sir,” von Stein said. “Franco has offered the services of the XVIIth Bandera?”

Herold nodded grimly. “Spain and Great Britain are not technically at war so the Caudillo can not officially offer the services of the Spanish Foreign Legión, so the XVIIth Bandera
has been disbanded and reformed as the 1
st
LVE Infantry Regiment, or the 1
st
Spanish Volunteer Legión Infantry Regiment…”

“You say tomato, I say tomato…” Von Stein shrugged his shoulders with weary resignation.

“Incidentally, Marshall Petain has also offered the services of a military unit - the 1
st
LVF Infantry Regiment or the 1
st
French Volunteer Legion Infantry Regiment -
to take part in the invasion of Scotland.”

Von Stein snorted contemptuously. “It didn’t take long for the French to change their spots. What is the price of French support, sir?”

“I don’t know.” Herold shrugged his shoulders. “At the very least, the transfer of sovereignty of the Channel Islands.”

“And I would imagine that the Spanish will want our help to recover Gibraltar, sir,” von Stein said.

“If I was a betting man then I’d put good money on it,” Herold agreed. “The 1
st
LVE will take up quarters in Hereward by the end of next week, and together
with the 4
th
and 5
th
SS Infantry Regiments will form a brigade under my command.”

“So… what happens to me, sir?” Von Stein asked nervously.

“Absolutely nothing, von Stein,” Herold answered. “As far as I am concerned and as far as you are concerned, this incident is dead and buried. I don’t want to hear
another word about a vendetta or a blood feud. This incident is finished. Finito. If I hear that Colonel Mendoza has tripped over a cobblestone and has fallen over and bruised his knee, you will
find yourself face down in a ditch beside your three scharführers with a bullet in the back of your head before you can say ‘please, sir, it wasn’t me,’ and I’ll be the
one with my finger on the trigger. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Von Stein stood at a ramrod straight position of attention.

“Hauptsturmführer von Stein, I’ve decided to give you the benefit of the doubt about the deaths of your three scharführers. I’m willing to publicly acknowledge that
the Resistance killed them and I am willing to privately accept that Kophamel led them astray and put the idea of vendetta into their heads, and not you. But - so help me God - if I find out that
you put thoughts of revenge into the minds of your men and that you were responsible for their deaths then I will hunt you down like a dog and kill you without a moment’s hesitation. Do you
understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I cannot afford to have a civil war going on in the streets of Hereward, von Stein,” Herold explained, “with Legiónaries and my stormtroopers fighting each other
instead of the British. Of course I would prefer to have the 6
th
SS instead of the Spaniards, but they’ve been sent to Poland and there’s absolutely no point crying over
spilt milk. I have to welcome the 1
st
LVE as brothers in arms and weld them together with the 4
th
and 5
th
SS to form a team. I cannot form a team based on trust and
mutual respect and support if my men are constantly looking over their shoulder worrying that they might be shot in the back because of a private blood feud between two allied officers. Do you
understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Herold stopped pacing around the room, straightened his tunic, and sat down behind his desk. “By the way, von Stein, did you notice how the XVIIth Bandera’s
warning notice referred to Mendoza?”

“No, sir.” Von Stein was too dazed and confused to notice very much.

“It referred to Lieutenant-Colonel Mendoza: he’s been promoted. Mendoza is the new commanding officer of the 1
st
LVE Infantry Regiment.”

Von Stein rocked back on his heels as if he had been slapped in the face.

“And a word of warning, Hauptsturmführer: four of Mendoza’s Legiónaries managed to kill and wound approximately fifty SS and Wehrmacht soldiers,” Herold said.
“Mendoza will now be in command of approximately five hundred Legiónaries based in Hereward. My advice would be to stay well clear of him. Dismissed!”

“How are you, Aurora? How do you feel?” Alan asked as he kissed his girlfriend on her forehead and sat on a chair beside Aurora’s bed. He picked up
Aurora’s hand and held it tenderly.

“I’m drugged up to my eye balls, Alan,” Aurora replied with a croaky voice as she carefully moved the morphine drip that was attached to the back of her hand. “I’m
attached to a catheter which is not very comfortable and the painkillers make me feel nauseous. I feel like I’m going to be sick all of the time.” Aurora pointed to the tin bowl that
sat on her bedside table. “I haven’t eaten for twenty-four hours and I haven’t had anything to drink either. My throat feels very dry.”

Alan gently kissed Aurora’s hand. “I’m sure that you’ll be able to eat and drink very soon. How are your scars?”

“The doctors say that the tears are healing and that the stitches are doing a good job. However, I’m confined to my bed for a week and I’m not allowed to walk in case it rips
the stitches.”

“Good.” Alan nodded as he patted Aurora’s hand. “That’s a good idea. It sounds as if you’re in safe hands.”

“Yes, I am,” Aurora agreed. “I am in very safe hands. The doctors and nurses have been very kind to me, despite the fact that I’m an enemy alien,” Aurora said
bitterly.

Alan smiled. “Now that’s not true, my love and you know it. You are the victim of a terrible crime. Nationality has got nothing to do with your treatment and the doctors and nurses
would treat you the same if you were German. You are a human being and that’s the end of it. A person’s nationality is nothing more than an accident of birth. You no more chose to be
Spanish than I chose to be English. And anyway, Spain and Britain are not at war…”

“Yet,” Aurora interrupted sadly.

“Oh, Aurora, that’s a very pessimistic thing to say,” Alan teased playfully.

Aurora shook her head. “I’m afraid that I’m not just being pessimistic, Alan. Papa told me that his regiment, the XVIIth Bandera of the Foreign Legión, has been
disbanded and has been reformed as the 1
st
Spanish Volunteer Legión Infantry Regiment, and will arrive in Hereward by the end of next week.”

Alan’s eyes were widened in shock. “Bloody hell! But why are they here?”

“To take part in the invasion of Scotland, of course! And papa has been promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel to lead them.”

“Remind me to congratulate your father on his promotion, Aurora,” Alan said sarcastically.

“It’s not his fault, Alan!” Aurora protested passionately. “He does not want to fight against the British!”

“It looks as if he won’t have any choice, Aurora,” Alan said bitterly.

Aurora did not persist in defending her father, because she knew that what Alan had said was true.

Alan decided to change the subject; he had not come to the hospital to argue with his girlfriend. “At least the damage is not permanent, my love, and you will recover.”

Aurora nodded. “You are right, Alan: the doctors have said that I will still be able to have children.” Aurora paused. “The physical scars will heal, but the emotional scars
will never heal,” Aurora said sadly.

“What… what do you mean, Aurora?” Alan asked.

“That animal raped me, Alan!” Aurora shouted angrily. “That Nazi bastard raped me and destroyed my virginity. A woman’s virginity is a gift that she should only give to a
man that she loves, and that rapist destroyed that gift.” A large tear slowly trickled down Aurora’s cheek. “I wanted to give my virginity to the man that I love, Alan. I wanted
to give my virginity to you and now I will never be able to.”

“I… I’m sorry, Aurora,” Alan said with tear filled eyes. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Alan. Just hold me.”

Chapter Eleven

“How is Mendoza’s daughter, Hauptwachtmeister Bratge? Her name’s Aurora, isn’t it?” General-Major von Schnakenberg asked with concern.

“Yes, sir. Aurora’s recovering in hospital, sir,” Bratge replied as he stood at a position of attention in front of von Schnakenberg’s desk. “But she’s lucky
to be alive, sir. Those animals really tried to hurt her. Fortunately the damage isn’t permanent and she will be able to have children in the future.”

Von Schnakenberg shook his head in disgust. “Bloody animals, raping a child. Some people have absolutely no morals. How old is Aurora?”

Bratge consulted his notes. “She’s fourteen, sir.”

“Bastards. Well, I hope the Police catch the swine. Has Mendoza identified the rapists?”

Bratge shook his head. “No, sir. Both she and Major - sorry, Lieutenant-Colonel Mendoza - told the Police that they were unable to identify the rapists. They said that they had never seen
them before.”

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