Thread: Love After a Time of Hate Revamped (Closed for The_PG)

Standartenfhrer Emil Dietmar watched as the pack of Jews disembarked the train. He held a perfumed handkerchief to his left nostril, and then the right, breathing in deeply both times to rid himself of the stench for a few blissful minutes. The cloth went back into his chest pocket as his hawk-eyes watched the frightened Jewden move like a heard of lemmings, simply looking down and watching the feet of the person in front of them. It could be interesting to send a train into the alps, and stop it in a snowstorm, to see if they would all pile out to their deaths down the sheer cliff sides. Yes, I think they would. He thought to himself as he continued to monitor the progress. The guards were becoming quite efficient, he was pleased to see, they would beat their previous unloading times handily this go around. Granted, it was the first time that mother nature had cooperated with them in quite some time. Typically it was raining heavily, or snowing heavily, whereas now it was just a gentle flurry. Only one death this time, and because it came right during the hectic movement there had been little chance for Jews to make themselves more frightened then they already were. That helped as well. The final piece of the puzzle for an efficient movement would surprise the Fuhrer himself, but the fact of the matter was that Emil had diagnosed it nearly immediately upon his arrival at this dreadful camp. The Jews themselves were rather organized and efficient. Emil did not hate them because of this, the other reasons were more than enough, but instead of just rats he had come to think of them as efficient rats . They nearly organized themselves into the neat ranks and rows that Emil's minions demanded. As the Standartenfhrer, equivalent to the cursed American's Colonel, Emil had any roughly four hundred minions at his disposal for this death camp. It was not as large as the later most noticeable Aushchwitz, but it was certainly more efficient. As a former front line commander Emil had made his mark in the Blitzberg campaign's, striking with precision and killing with efficiency that every senior commander should strive for. As a Sturmbannfhrer Major he had led his men into many difficult and dangerous missions always to come away with an easy victory. His last had been perhaps the dirtiest and least tidy, but certainly the one that gave him the most notoriety. It was during the final phase to push the British and French into the sea, but the crafty bastards had set up a text book ambush that had killed most of the first wave from two other companies. Emil's had been in reserve, and called upon to finish the job. Instead of flanking, as the Allies had expected, Emil lead his men straight down the middle and between their sister companies dead and dying. They'd made it within twenty meters of the Allies before an unlucky man had stepped upon a mine. The battle had become more hectic then, with Emil's troops intermingled among the Allies. They had fought hand-to-hand, and at point blank range. There was no time for tactics or tricks, small bands of men had banded together to fight other small bands within the fortifications and defenses. Emil had collected his officers and sergeants into a small band of nine. They used a simple envelopment tactic to capture bunker after bunker. Surrounding the enemy, launching their grenades, and then throwing the deads, into the bunkers until nothing was left but red dirt. The last bunker for Emil had been the hardest as he was down to just five men, and only twice that number of grenades, half of which turned out to be duds and did not explode. He had been second into the doorway, the first had died quickly to a hail of bullets and Emil had used his dead comrades body to shield himself as he took out the machine gunner. The rest of the enemy had resorted to pistols and knives. Emil's own pistol emptied quickly, and his knife was ripped from his grasp after it had been buried in the young enemies skull. A grenade fell among the few left fighting, and Emil remembered little more. All that he knew was that the shrapnel had added a rather ghastly scar across his cheek and a limp to his step. There was no weakness in his leg, he had worked it all out, but the limp he simply could not get rid of. The scar had left his rather handsome face quite a bit more grim. With blue eyes and stock blonde hair he had been actually quite handsome, if a little hawkish. Now, his bird-of-prey features showed more strongly, from his sharp nose, to strong cheekbones, and crystal blue eyes they defined him quite strongly. The features were fitting of course, because of his impeccable intelligence in combat, and the suffering of such a mortal wound he had been doubly promoted to Standartenfhrer, given command of the camp and the regiment that came with it. Now his hawk eyes picked out the rather beautiful Jew who stumbled, fell, and was quickly wrenched into place by one of his minions. Taking his cap from his head, Emil brushed his bright blond hair twice. The locks were long and slightly out of regulations, but not even the officers he was older than would comment upon it. They all respected him far too much. Those that didn't, and they were few, were too frightened to mention it. The brushing of his hair signaled that he had picked the one he wanted for himself. For all his intelligence Emil was uncertain of the reason he picked the ones that he picked many displeased and failed him, and those that pleased him often failed, and those that wouldn't fail him had displeased him. Even he did not know exactly what he was looking for among these efficient rodents. In the end it really did not matter that he could not find the right one, as they all were destined to die one way or the other, but it still rankled him that he could not find the right one. Or the reason that he was looking for the right one in the first place. Once the rest of the efficient rodents were sorted, again a timely and impressive display of organization by his minions and the rats, it left the curly black haired Jew by herself. Emil approached with another double sniff of his handkerchief, and was immensely thankful that his accommodations were up a very steep cliff from this shit-hole. A place he would return to in mere moments if all went right. As he came to rest directly in front of the Jewden, he realized how foreboding his six-two height made him to these short, efficient, rats. The girl was trembling as he leaned over and touched the tips of his leather covered finger to her chin, lifting her eyes to his. The vivid green of her eyes was crystallized by tears, and Emil nearly licked his lips. Not yet... I must at least make it home first... He thought to himself as he met that vivid green with piercing blue, What is your name little one? He asked in not an unfriendly voice, but neither did it show any empathy what so ever. Nearly all of Emil had died upon the battlefield, and what remained was only a shell that kept the finely tuned machinery of the Third Reich together. E-e-steer. Replied the little one. Ehsteer? He asked with the faintest hint of a smirk. Ester, She repeated. Emil could see that it had taken Ester considerable courage to muster enough force to speak her name coherently, he hoped that he would not kill her asking a few more questions. Can you cook, and clean? Y-y-y-yes... Sir! The last word was spit out rapidly, as if she had just realized that she had not used it before. Very well... One last question little Ester, is your family here? That stumped her, it seemed she was debating whether to lie or not, and with that Emil knew they were here. I know they are Ester. Point them out... Or I will kill everyone here, one-by-one, until you do. Emil straightened when she did not respond right away, he twisted her head by the jaw which he was still touching, to watch the far end of the line. A single shot went off, and an elderly woman crumpled over with red liquid pouring from between her eyes. The commander could feel the fear even through his gloves as it coursed through Ester's young body. Unfortunately he was sure that he had gone too far, and fear had frozen her. Thankfully one of her brothers was close enough to overhear. I am Ester's brother, Peter. The rest of the family got the picture quickly enough, and all revealed themselves. Emil simply nodded, and his minions noted them for future use, then they were returned into line. With that settled the commander turned from his new slave and allowed his minions to take over. Ester was thrown roughly in the back seat of his Leutnant's jeep, while the commander stepped into the backseat of his much nicer town car, driven by a sergeant while the Leutnant had to drive himself. They left the camp, and it's new inmates, to their own devices while racing towards the Standartenfhrer's quarters. Emil had seen enough, his men were efficient this day, and things would be handled orderly. The elderly and infirm first to die, the young and strange to be picked through by the camp's doctor for experimental purposes, while the rest of the able-bodied set to work aiding the Nazi war machine. Upon arriving at Emil's house, he entered and went directly to his office to make a report on the new arrivals while the Leutnant took Ester into the basement to a white tiled washroom where she was stripped, rubbed raw and spotlessly cleaned, Then she was dressed in a white slip that barely dropped below her buttocks along with a pair of white satin panties, and a pair of white ankle socks that the commander was known to like. Not to mention, the house was tiled everywhere and even the massive iron fireplaces were no match for the cold. The moment Ester was done being dressed coincided with the time Emil had finished his report. She was brought into his office, and left to stand in the middle of the spacious room. Ester... You were chosen to carry out a particular duty that few are chosen for. You are to serve me, and my staff. Your duties will be cooking my meals, the meals of my aides, cleaning the kitchen, pantry, bathrooms, hallways, and my office among a few other things... Elsewhere in the house is forbidden to you. Should you stray, forget, or fail in your duties you will be punished... Along with your family, and friends that are down in the camps. Should you exceed my expectations, you and your family may be rewarded. The details will be given to you by the butler, who will be your direct supervisor, he is just outside awaiting you. Do you understand all of this?