Post by Simon Gruber on Dec 14, 2011 19:36:52 GMT
The sun was starting to sink, the orange rays floating through the Western facing windows in Gruber’s officer. The Northern side windows were starting to show a darkened sky, with clouds racing across the fill the void. Looking out of his windows, Gruber could not help but appreciate the certain spookiness the conditions gave the camp of the Third Waffen-SS Panzer Division. He moved towards the Western windows, fiddling slightly with a string dangling from the top of the blinds to drop them down, tilting them so the room was more bearable to look at.
A large ornate clock hung by the doorway, oak body with bronze furnishings. The hands were slowly turning, cranking towards the end of the day, but Gruber still had one job left for the day. Walking to a corner of the officer, a grey filing cabinet sat still, seemingly unfitting in the room filled with wood furniture. Drawing a key from his belt, he opened it, sliding open the drawer and extracting to cream folders. He turned and walked to the desk, drawing back the chair and sitting down, plush brown leather comforting him. A gentle breeze floated through his window, keeping him cool on this unusually warm day. He could see his uniform jacket and headdress on a coatstand tuck away beside the door.
The first file came to the top of the pile, and he carefully read the front. A type-written name was on it, Steiner, Rudolf. On the inside cover, a photograph was paper-clipped, the man’s formal SS picture in uniform, and on the other side a series of reports were tucked in. He began to quickly skim through them; he had already read them thoroughly but felt it to refresh his mine before the meeting.
A notepad sat by Gruber’s hand, and he drew a fountain pen, carefully placing the lid on the desk before scratching a few notes on to the paper. Bullet points mainly, with one or two words to make sure he knew how he was going to proceed. His thought process was interrupted by a knock on the door. He didn’t acknowledge immediately, finishing his note and replacing the lid on his pen before glancing at the clock. Twenty five minutes past five, five minutes earlier than the five thirty meeting that had been arranged. Of course, being five minutes early meant that one could not be late. Straightening the tie of his uniform, he sat up in his chair, calling out in a strong level voice, ”enter."
A large ornate clock hung by the doorway, oak body with bronze furnishings. The hands were slowly turning, cranking towards the end of the day, but Gruber still had one job left for the day. Walking to a corner of the officer, a grey filing cabinet sat still, seemingly unfitting in the room filled with wood furniture. Drawing a key from his belt, he opened it, sliding open the drawer and extracting to cream folders. He turned and walked to the desk, drawing back the chair and sitting down, plush brown leather comforting him. A gentle breeze floated through his window, keeping him cool on this unusually warm day. He could see his uniform jacket and headdress on a coatstand tuck away beside the door.
The first file came to the top of the pile, and he carefully read the front. A type-written name was on it, Steiner, Rudolf. On the inside cover, a photograph was paper-clipped, the man’s formal SS picture in uniform, and on the other side a series of reports were tucked in. He began to quickly skim through them; he had already read them thoroughly but felt it to refresh his mine before the meeting.
A notepad sat by Gruber’s hand, and he drew a fountain pen, carefully placing the lid on the desk before scratching a few notes on to the paper. Bullet points mainly, with one or two words to make sure he knew how he was going to proceed. His thought process was interrupted by a knock on the door. He didn’t acknowledge immediately, finishing his note and replacing the lid on his pen before glancing at the clock. Twenty five minutes past five, five minutes earlier than the five thirty meeting that had been arranged. Of course, being five minutes early meant that one could not be late. Straightening the tie of his uniform, he sat up in his chair, calling out in a strong level voice, ”enter."