OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 20
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 20
(Revisiting the End of Part 19)
Watching his love enthusiastically wreaking destruction on his markers, Sam's thoughts were not all that different from Andreas's. He loved Germany and, God knows, he loved his job. Maybe, however, it was a good time for the two young men to "get out of Dodge," at least for a few weeks.
(Continuing Our Story: Bon Voyage!)
"Not a bad party, is it, Andreas?" Heinrich panted in the blast furnace air of the living room. Like most of the boys, he was wearing shorts - and nothing else - on the atypically hot, sticky, early summer night.
"It's great!" agreed a similarly clad Andreas. Raising his voice to be heard over the pounding music, he added, "You guys are great to throw us a 'going away' party. Sam and I really appreciate it!" Pausing, he added in a lower voice, "I'm going to miss you, Heinrich."
The hunky dark-blond - sweat pouring down his face and chest - moved closer. Ignoring the heat and the sweat, he threw his arms around Andreas who returned the hug. "Don't forget your friends, man!" he mumbled and planted a quick kiss on the side of his friend's cheek. God, I'd give my right nut - maybe both of them - to be going to America! Watch out for the wild Indians, ok?"
Moving closer, Kurt grabbed the back of Heinrich's neck in an enormous paw before reaching around and slapping Andy on the back. "If you think I'm going to kiss you, you're mistaken," he snorted, "but I'm going to miss you, too!" Andy giggled as he affectionately slugged Kurt's shoulder. "You've got to keep the beasts in line, First Boy!" he shouted above the music.
And so a very pleasant evening passed as each and every member of Sargent Ehrhardt's Army gave Sam and Andreas a royal send-off. Remembering the many funny moments, Andy couldn't stop snickering in bed that night until, that is, Sam covered his mouth with a heavy hand and demanded that he shut up and let him get some sleep!
The next morning, the boys, aided by the Major's driver, packed the travelers' gear into the Jeep as they prepared to depart for the Rhein-Main military airfield near Frankfurt. ("I can't believe you rate your own driver!" Andy razzed Sam, as they finally strode to the Jeep. "Man, what will happen when you get your first star - maybe red stripes down the sides of your underwear shorts and a little pink Sherman? In your Army, do the stripes get wider and the tanks bigger - and, maybe, pinker - as you add stars?") Glaring at his tormentor, Sam climbed into the vehicle and they were soon off amidst the shouts - and wild barking - of everyone in DAS HAUS.
The uneventful trip seemed short, although Andreas was not unaware that several other Jeeps, all equipped with heavy, mounted weapons, were never far away. Finally, they reached the airfield and screeched to a halt in front of the Operations building. After checking in, the two were directed to drive over to one of several big, dark-khaki-colored B-24s that sat idling on the tarmac, a plane named "Saucy Sally." "My God, even your planes are straight," Andreas muttered. Their luggage loaded, they waited. Finally, an Army Air Corps captain approached, saluted Sam, and said, "Welcome, gentlemen. You'll be our only passengers today. I thought you'd like to have some information about our flight across the Pond. This baby is a B-24D, one of the heavy bombers that blasted Hitler's main oil refinery at Ploesti in Romania. She's powered by four big Pratt & Whitney engines. Unloaded, she can move at about 300 mph (482 km/h) at 25,000 feet (7620 meters). The maximum unloaded range is about 3500 miles (5632.7 km).
"How far is it to Boston, sir?" Andreas asked. "Three thousand six hundred sixty-one point six miles (5892.7 km), to be exact," the Captain answered promptly. "Then how are we going to make it all the way?" Andreas persisted. "Well, we'll have to land and refuel," the officer replied. "By the way, if we snag a sperm whale as we land, don't try to get out and lift her off! Even without a bomb load, this little girl weighs 32,605 lbs (13789.4 kg). Just be happy YOUR girl doesn't weigh that much!" he grinned at Andreas, who snickered. "One more thing, Andreas, if you'd like to see the cockpit - and maybe fly her for a bit - ask the Lieutenant. Just wait until we've been in the air for awhile and we're sure that she's going to hold together, ok?" Andreas's eyes widened and lit up as he turned towards Sam and grinned. "Ok, gentlemen, I'll get back to preparing us for take-off. It won't be long before we're in the air." He saluted Sam and returned towards the cockpit.
Perhaps a couple of hours into the flight, Sam (a somewhat nervous frown on his face) turned to Andreas and said, "I need to tell you a few things about my home, Andy. Your going to love America, but there are some differences between life there and life at The House. Life at DAS HAUS has finally become pretty relaxed. You know... Heinrich can plant a big kiss on you and a big jock like Kurt doesn't give a damn." Andreas blushed, but remained silent. "Life in the States is more like life in the rest of Tieferwald - maybe a bit worse. Some people say that it's the most homophobic country on earth. I do know that gays generally hide their feelings unless they're very, very sure about the person with whom they're dealing. Holy shit, men don't even kiss in public - and they drop their hand almost before they finish shaking yours! My parents will love you and respect you, but it's very unlikely that they will show you any affection. And I hate to think what would happen if you reminded them that we're gay - let alone, God forbid, pressured them to change or even modify their beliefs."
"They know?" Andreas asked.
"Yeah, they know, but...hey...they just don't allow it to enter their minds. Please don't get mad at them - or at me. They are what they are, just as is every human being."
"But, Sam," Andreas protested, "that sounds exactly like the 'Leben und Leben lassen' ['Live and let live.'] attitude that you've said 'isn't enough.' What about leaving things better than we found them?" "You're right, Andy," his lover said, "but in war we can't always fight every battle that comes our way. We have to choose the right fight, in the right place, and at the right time. I chose Tieferwald, but I have never been able to chance destroying my relationship with my parents in Boston. I'm not particularly proud of that - I admit that there's something a bit hypocritical about it - but that's the way it is." Andreas nodded, but he seemed to slip off into another of his "meditative" moods as the trip continued.
Finally, after a refueling stop in Reykjavik, Iceland, a glorious stint in the B-24's cockpit that restored Andreas's effervescent spirits, a few hours of napping, and over 18 hours from the time they had left Rhein-Main, the flight of B-24s approached the Massachusetts coast. Jumping from one side of the plane to the other, the youngster eagerly peered from the windows over at the lights of Boston as they passed by on their descent to Hanscom Field just 19 miles (30.6 km) to the northwest.
Given the fact that it was only 0400 hours (4:00 am), they gladly accepted an offer from the Captain and his crew to join them for breakfast after they had finished their paper work,. (Sam allowed that it was just "a mite early" for them to appear on his parents' doorstep!) Inasmuch as the Captain knew someone, who knew someone else, who knew someone who was going into Boston, Sam and Andreas were on the way into the city not long after the sun had risen.
(Home in Boston)
As the Army truck chugged its way up Beacon Hill past the gold-domed Massachusetts State House, the Corporal who was driving spat tobacco juice out the window and allowed that this was a "pretty ritzy" neighborhood. "Well, it was, Corporal, but it's changing. A lot of old families have moved out, but mine has been here for a long time...and they like it. You know...it's home," Sam said affably. Turning to Andreas, he grinned and asked if he were ready to use his English. "Don't worry, Big Guy your English has been getting better and better! You'll do fine," he added. Andreas grunted. "Up there on the right, Corporal, just beyond the next gas light!" When the truck stopped, Sam thanked the driver and the young men climbed out of the cab and retrieved their heavy backpacks from the rear of the vehicle. As it pulled away from the slate curb, Sam put his arm around Andy's shoulders and stood looking up at the beautiful Greek Revival brick structure. "Well, Andy, we're home...home in Boston. Come on." Walking up the steps, he pulled the ornate metal bell pull and waited only for a minute or two before the door opened and the scene disintegrated into happy familial chaos.
By mid morning, Sam and Andreas had eaten a second breakfast (accompanied by two cups of that which even Andreas had to admit was truly magnificent coffee!), small gifts brought from Germany had been given...and appropriately praised, Mrs. Peters had obviously fallen in love with Andreas (behaving, Sam assured him later, with completely atypical emotion), and Mr. Peters (a Boston lawyer) had insisted that before they went back to Germany they HAD to enjoy the family "cottage" down on the Cape. Finally, Mrs. Peters urged them to take their backpacks up to their bedrooms and then return for another cup of coffee.
Closing the door to "his" bedroom and leaning back against the wall, Andreas stood and furiously GLARED at Sam. "SAM...SAM! NEIN! NEIN! NEIN!" "In English, Andy," Sam remonstrated. "I said, 'NO!'" Andreas spat out. Then close to tears, he softened his tone of voice and wailed, "Sam, I love you. How in hell am I supposed to sleep if I'm not in your arms? Verdammtes englisch! Wie sagt man, 'Ich wuerde eher nach Hause gehen'?" ["Damned English! How does one say, 'I'd rather go home?'"]
Sam gathered the young man into his arms and stood, kissing his neck and murmuring soft endearments into his ear. "Andy, please. It's only for a few nights. She means nothing bad by it. As a matter of fact, I think she has accepted you as a second son. It's just her way. Please...for me?" Andreas sputtered and moaned, but he knew that there was very little in this world that he could deny Sam. Finally, he grunted, "Ok...but only under protest!" and stiffly marched into the adjoining bathroom to soak his face in cold water. Sam exhaled for the first time in three or four minutes!
When his love returned, he said, "You must be exhausted, babe. It was a long, tiring flight. We've been up for over a day with only a few winks of sleep on the plane. Would you rather take a nap or would you prefer to see a little of Boston. I have to warn you: In this town one does best to walk. Every year, a few people who don't live here try to drive their cars in town - and are never seen again! The streets are laid out on 17th century cow paths, and there's absolutely no rhyme or reason to them," he explained, hoping that a small joke (even if true!) would cheer Andy up. It worked. A little smile crossed Andy's lips and he said he'd rather see a bit of Sam's hometown. There'd be time later for him to sleep "in his cage." Sam shook his head and grinned at the lad.
Returning to the breakfast nook, they accepted a third cup of coffee. Mr. Peters asked about their plans. "Well, to start with, Father," he began, "I think I'd like to show Andreas just a bit of the town. Does that conflict with any of your plans?" "No, not at all, Samuel. We'll see you come early evening. Well, Andreas, welcome to Boston. We're happy to see you and hope that you enjoy your visit." Only Sam knew how hard his father was trying - FOR HE DID KNOW - and gave him full credit.
As they walked and down Beacon Hill on paths in the Boston Common, Andreas turned to Sam, saying, "I think I've figured out why you love the City Park in Tieferwald so. It reminds you of the Common!" "Not so, Big Guy," Sam responded. "It's where I first met you!" Grinning, for he HAD scored a point, Sam began filling Andy in on some of the biggest historical sights in his town. The (new) State House and, then on Tremont Street, the Park Street Church, King's Chapel, and the Old Granary Burying Ground all came under his scrutiny. They stopped at Faneuil Hall before wandering into the Italian district in the North End. As they sat on a bench at the Old North Church, munching on a wonderful loaf of Italian bread, Sam asked Andreas if he had any "first impressions" of Boston.
"Well, Sam," Andy responded, "I'd have to mention the foreign influence. The German people are so...similar - and they become more so every day with the arrival of 'expellees.' Your country is such a patchwork of immigrants. English-Americans (like your family), Italian-Americans, Irish- Americans... Wow! Secondly, I'd have to mention the age of the city - especially since I'm seeing places built in the 1600s - even if the Common was used as the town's cow pasture then! - and the 1700s. And, Sam the buildings aren't lying on the ground in pieces that tanks and bombers have smashed into rubble! They're still living parts of your history! Finally, I guess I am already impressed by the health and energy of Americans. At home, most people are still pretty well beaten up. It's hard to rebuild when the people are so tired and discouraged." Grinning, he asked, "Am I on the right track...after less than one day in America?"
Sam had, of course, fallen in love with the young lad on the very first day that he had discovered him, near death, in the Tieferwald's City Park. (See the end of Part 1 plus Part 2.) Nevertheless, he had never ceased to be amazed by the kid's raw intelligence! So many accurate perceptions for less than a day in America! "Yeah, Andy, you're right on track," he answered. "And how about things that you don't like so much?"
"Not much there," Andreas grinned. "I am having one hell of a time having to speak so much English. Sure, Uncle Erich taught me a little in Pressburg, you've helped me a lot over the last couple of years, and the teacher at school is great! Still, it's so much easier to speak German, he sighed. Also, Sam, I'm not at all sure about your language!" "How so?" Sam murmured. "Well, there are times when I can barely understand people in Boston. Are they speaking a dialect like the people around Frankfurt?"
"We call it an 'accent,'" Sam allowed. For example, New Englanders have real problems with 'Rs.' If the word has an "R," we take it out; if it doesn't, we often ADD one! Hence, 'park your car' becomes 'pak yuh cah' and 'yacht' becomes 'yart!'" Making a rude noise, Andy rolled back on the bench in near hysterics. "No dialect! Ha! Big joke!" On the way back into the downtown area, the young men stopped in the market area for a bowl of...chowduh (chowder). Beginning to giggle, Andy tired to concentrate on simply shoveling the delicious stuff into his mouth - but he wasn't completely successful. In fact, Sam had quite a few white specks on his upper clothing that he'd have to clean off later!
When they returned home after several hours of urban hiking, both young men were tired enough for a short nap. As Andy passed Sam to continue next door to his bedroom, he actually turned around, bared his teeth, and GROWLED! 'God, I hope he's kidding!' Sam thought.
Following a light supper (i.e., "suppuh"), the family simply sat in comfortable chairs in the living room and caught up on each other's adventures. At one point, Mrs. Peters turned to Andreas and asked about his early years, the years before he had met Sam. Sam stirred uncomfortably, for he knew how difficult a story it was. Nevertheless, Andy went on to relate how long his family had lived in the Slovakian part of Czechoslovakia, how ethnic and religious tensions had risen in the late '30s and early '40s, and how he had witnessed all of his family, save one brother, slaughtered by a mob of Slovaks, Russians, and just plain thugs. Although he was becoming increasingly distraught, he also told them how he had seen his last brother, nine year-old Jurgen, murdered by bandits as their small band of refugees tried to cross the forest into Bavaria. In tears, he finished his summary by stating that he would now be dead had it not been for Sam's finding him and taking care of him. The boy's story brought complete silence to the room. Finally, Sam's mother rose, walked unsteadily over to Andreas, ran her fingers through his soft light hair, placed her hands at the sides of his head, and kissed him on the forehead. "You have another family now, Andreas," she whispered. She then turned and walked up the central staircase, dabbing at her eyes with a small handkerchief. Losing all fear of offending, Sam walked over to the boy, pulled him up out of his chair, and stood with his arms around him. Andreas finally broke away crying and ran up the stairs.
Sam's stunned father put his pipe down, wiped his glasses, and swallowed convulsively. Finally, he pulled himself together and spoke to his son. "You did the right thing, Sam," he said. "I'm proud of you." (Sam could scarcely believe what his father had said - or that he had called him "Sam." It was the first time in his memory that he had ever done so.) Almost as if regretting his show of emotion, Mr. Peters asked in a more conversational tone of voice, "What's on for tomorrow? Sam said that he expected they would sleep late and explained that they had an afternoon meeting at the office of the United Relief Agencies. "And tomorrow night?" Sam's father asked. When Sam told him that they had no plans, Mr. Peters noted that one of the last Boston Pops concerts of the Season was to be held in Symphony Hall - a concert of light European music. Did Sam think Andreas would enjoy it? Sam looked at his father with sheer amazement. They always had Season's tickets for the Boston Symphony. The tickets of both organizations were always completely sold out. His father had to have bought tickets for tomorrow night's event weeks ago - and yet he had ASKED if he were interested! "I'm sure Andy would love that, Dad," he said, "and so would I." "Good," Mr. Peters said in a husky voice. "Breakfast will be ready whenever you get up. No one will disturb you." Almost as if he couldn't believe what he was saying, he added, "Now, go up to your young man - and take care of him."
Sam stood at Andreas's bedroom door, muttered "Shit!" and entered. Throwing his clothes onto a chair, he slid into bed and held the softly sobbing boy. "It's ok, Andy, I'm here." "Gott sei Dank" ["Thank God"], Andy sniffled.
Promptly at 1400 hours (2:00 pm) the next afternoon, the uniformed Major and Andreas appeared at the downtown headquarters of the United Relief Agencies. They were promptly shown to the office of Mr. William Cantor, the International CEO of the organization. Mr. Cantor's secretary greeted the young men warmly and buzzed her boss. Even she was a little flustered when the headman came out of his office to welcome them. "Mrs. Grady would you please have some refreshments brought to my office?" he asked pleasantly. He then ushered them into a beautiful office that overlooked Central Boston and Massachusetts Bay beyond. "We finally meet," he exclaimed. "You do know that if we had ten more men such as yourselves that many of the relief problems that are plaguing us would just get up and go away? Even UNRRA (the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration) is envious of our having you!" The three-sided conversation that followed was far-ranging and probing. What could be done to reduce the bottlenecks that plagued the distribution of relief supplies after they had reached the target country? How in the world had Sam managed to involve Tieferwald's adolescents in helping rather than hindering relief work? (Sam turned to Andreas, grinned widely, and allowed him to field that one!) When civil governments didn't exist, what might persuade the Military to cooperate just a bit more willingly with civilian agencies? Grinning conspiratorially, he asked how Sam had managed to have BOTH the Tieferwald military AND the American Zone Commandant's office eating out of his hand...simultaneously! And so it went...on and on. Finally, as the clock read nearly 3:45 p.m. (1545 hours), Mr. Cantor sat back. "Gentlemen," he said, "I wonder if you would kindly accompany me to our small auditorium."
Guided by the CEO, Sam and Andreas quickly found themselves on the stage of the URA auditorium. Asking them to sit down for a few minutes, Mr. Cantor strode to the podium and called the packed hall to order. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he proceeded," Thank you leaving your busy desks to join me this afternoon. We have as our guests two of our most successful representatives in Occupied Germany - indeed in all of Europe - our representative in Tieferwald am Main and his Special Assistant for German Youth. We come here today to thank them and to honor them for their devoted service to the URA and to humanity. Major Samuel Peters, I call upon you to step forward and receive a small token of our esteem. After Sam had accepted a small statue from the CEO, Andreas was called forward and honored by the presentation of a second statue. Warm applause, a few short conversations with key figures of the Agency - among them a short conversation accidentally overheard by Andreas between Cantor and Sam in which Sam asked about the possibility of a post-military career in relief work - and the repeated thanks of the URA Executive completed the afternoon's activities.
In the taxi that returned the young men to the Peters' Beacon Street home, Andreas and Sam examined the statues that had been packed in beautiful wooden presentation cases. Both stood about 10 inches (25.4 cm) in height; both were hand-carved in Boston from white Carrara marble, both stood on small pedestals circled by small brass plaques. Sam's statue was an exquisite copy of the "Winged Victory of Samothrace;" Andreas's, of a naked young athlete crossing the finish line, his arms raised in victory. (Andreas, a wicked smirk on his face, told Sam that he shouldn't even THINK of trading!) Sam's plague read, "To Major Samuel Peters, USA, for Service on Behalf of the German People, United Relief Agencies, July 10, 1947." Andreas's was identical other than it carried his name and read, ". . . for Service on Behalf of German Youth . . . ." On their arrival home, Mr. and Mrs. Peters were obviously as pleased as the boys.
In the taxi on the way home, when Sam had asked Andreas if there were anything else in Boston that he would like to see, Andy had (rather shyly) mentioned that he would like to visit the Harvard Medical School. Soon after arriving home, Sam went to the phone and, calling a number given him by Chris Kendrick, arranged an appointment on the morrow with Kendrick's old mentor, Dr. Seth Parker. When he mentioned this to Andy, the young man simply smiled and gave him a warm hug.
As their taxi approached the beautiful entrance to Boston's Symphony Hall that had been opened in 1900 as one of the finest musical performance sites in the world, Sam continued to fill Andreas in on the Symphony, the Pops, and the Hall. Reaching the entrance, they soon were ushered to a superbly located five-person table, one of many that dotted the Hall's front-center for Pops concerts. (Sam quickly leaned over towards his father and again warmly thanked him.) For his part, Andreas proudly accepted Mr. Peters offer of a pre-concert glass of Champagne, not long before the Maestro approached the podium to enthusiastic applause. He then sat absolutely enthralled by a selection of lighter pieces by European masters. On the way home, the young man was absolutely ecstatic. It had been, he said - in a continuing flow of breathless comments - the most beautiful night of his life. Mrs. Peters finally had to reach back and play-slap at Sam who was vainly trying to turn off Andreas's wide-open verbal spigot!
After a leisurely Friday-morning breakfast during which they gloated over a short article and a photo taken at the URA awards ceremony that appeared in the morning's "Boston Globe," the duo boarded the good old MBTA (the Boston-area subway system) and traveled across the Charles River to Cambridge. Easily locating the main building of the Medical School, they were received with extreme warmth by Dr. Parker. The older man informed them that Dr. Kendrick had already mentioned Andreas and that if and when the young man were ever interested in attending Harvard College and/or the Medical School, he would be "honored" to give him whatever help he could. Further, he said that a letter from Dr. Kendrick was on file, a letter that would be "opened and considered" should Andreas ever apply for admission to the Medical School. During an hour's chit-chat - during which time the physician cagily sized up Andreas...and obviously liked what he heard and saw - and an obligatory cup of tea, they departed and made their way back to the subway. Andreas was clearly pleased by the meeting, but still seemed somewhat withdrawn...maybe, "thoughtful" is a better word.
On the return trip, Andreas shyly (and rather hesitantly) reminded Sam that he was a "forest boy" and wondered if Sam would be "disappointed" if they left the city "soon" to enjoy some country. "Disappointed? Hell no, Andy! As a matter of fact, we leave for some of the most beautiful country in the world tomorrow morning!" Having accepted the use of a family car for the trip, Sam sat in the driver's seat the next morning as Andreas talked with his father in the open doorway. His hands on the boy's shoulders, Sam watched his father reach down into a pocket and give him a small, paper envelope. So surprised was he by what happened next, he actually forgot to ask Andy about the packet. Not quite believing his eyes, he saw them spontaneously embrace before his love trotted down the steps towards the car. Waving, they left for another grand adventure. (What wondrous things had happened to his life from the very first day that Andreas entered it!)
(To Be Continued)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- AUTHOR'S NOTE: Rather obviously, the story of Sam and Andreas's adventure in America has not yet been completed. Part 21 that continues the adventure will be along in just a few days. Enjoy! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------