The Proud Lord Said — [O]

[Hilda ("Hildy")]

Country: France
Current Time: 12:09 (Military Time) - 1942
Weather Conditions: Clear skies, hovering around three degrees Celsius in temperature; very light breeze, almost not noticeable

One of these men would be sleeping on an officer's mattress before the day was out. Why, then, did they have to compensate for something by chasing her? By calling her things in German and mangled French, by cuffing her and taking her in? She was a runt, a hungry little thing, that had been beaten and bruised for a loaf of bread. If she was resorting to snatching from an officer's plate, then something was very wrong, now wasn't it? Of course, with all that time they spent on officer's mattresses, their brains were probably snuffed out with coils of perfect whore-hair. Served them right, the bleeding bastards.

They were proud lords and fat cats, sitting on thrones of stolen wood, eating their stolen pastries and parading around stolen cities. And what again did the proud lords say? «Who are you that I must bow so low?» Oh, you'll bow all right, cocksuckers. Just you wait until I get out of here ....

She tried to shift her arm, only to clamp her teeth together as hard as she could. She would not give them the benefit of a scream; what had these wichser done, broke her arm? Feels like it. She knew her shoulder had to be dislocated, from how heavily swollen and wrenched it was. I've been in worse shit. Just got to think. Just got to wait for them to drop the key.

Hilda wouldn't lie: she had been in shit before, but this had been the worst shit she'd been in, by far. The prisoner of a thousand raving lunatics, trigger-happy and with tight enough trousers they walked like geese? Certainly says something when they dress so fuckingly sharp. Again the upper crust has to make a statement — WITH TIGHT LOWERTHINGS NO LESS!

She almost chuckled, but coughed instead, spitting out a wad of reddish something.

[Franz Albrecht]

Franz glanced up at an old cheap looking clock that was mounted on the wall in his office. The SD Untersturmfuhrer was just finishing up his paper work for the day before heading back to the hotel. A large stack of papers sat neatly piled on the left side of Franz’s desk. The office was dimly lit and cigarette smoke lingered in the air. After a final scan of the document he had been working on, Albrecht placed it neatly on the pile and got to his feet. He had a long stretch, it felt rather good after several hours of office work. Franz turned off the light, on his way out he grabbed his coat and cap from a hanger near the door. The SD officer marched through the hallway of Headquarters toward the exit. On the way he was forced to return 3-4 Nazi salutes from other Officer and NCO’s.

He walked slowly outside, cigarette in hand to where a black car waited out front. The temperature was lower than it had been the day before. Franz pulled the collar up on his greatcoat as he waited for the driver to open his door. He placed his hand inside the coat and suddenly felt something between his fingers. Raising an eyebrow he muttered, “Wonder what this is..-“. He removed a small crumpled up note, it read…

ya drop yourwallet in the gutter I took some tfeed myself lef plenty enjoy yself now left it at the police place

- somebody

His eyes suddenly widened. After tucking the note back in his pocket he began to pat himself down in search of the wallet, “For fuck sakes..-“ he cursed. The driver now stood before him holding the back door open. With a concerned look on his face he asked, “Sir, is something wrong?”. Franz responded to him while climbing in the car, “Well, it appears as if I have lost my Wallet! It’s been replaced with a lovely note”. The driver unsure of what to say began to speak, “Uhh..- would you like to..-“, Franz interrupted him, “Apparently it’s been turned in at a police station. That is just great because there are more than one..let’s go”. The SS driver shut the door with a nod. He returned to his position in order to drive the car.

Franz couldn’t believe this happened. He had a fat stack of cash in that wallet, along with other personal items he didn’t feel like losing. After visiting two stations the third was a charm, Albrecht waited in the main lobby for an officer to return with his wallet. Once he had it in hand Franz asked, “Did you happen to notice who brought it in?”. The Police official shook his head, “Yes”, then responded, “A vagrant sir, some filthy foul mouthed stray”. The SD officer nodded slowly clearly deep in thought, “Right well thank you for your assistance" He turned to leave when the Police official continued, “We have her in the holding cells if you would like a moment”. Franz stopped in his tracks, he turned and spoke calmly, “Yes, I would like to see...HER? What is she being detained for? the officer replied, "Theft".

Albrecht had his suspicions he had been pick-pocketed. He was also under the impression that he would never see the offender in person. This was music to his ears, the filthy vagrant would pay for robbing him. Franz knew that times were hard but it wasn’t an excuse to steal, especially from him. The policeman led the sicherheitsdienst officer down a long corridor of thick wooden doors. The two men met up with a third who was a jailer. The jailer kicked a latch at the bottom of the door causing it to release. He inserted a key into the lock giving it a twist, when it clicked he stood back. Franz glanced at the two men and gave them a nod of approval. The door opened to reveal a ragged child, a little girl. She reminded Franz of the many Orphans he had witnessed during his tour East. He pitied those who were left alone because of the war. The upset expression on his face seemed to fade away.

[Hilda ("Hildy")]

She nodded off once, only to snap awake out of reflex. She couldn't fall asleep, especially if she was concussed. You'll never wake up...gotta stay up. Then she nodded off twice, only waking up when she coughed minutes later. She was about to nod off a third time, and the door opened; bruised eyes went up. A trickle of blood dribbled down her chin.

„Well hello there.“

With another cough, she tried to swallow the coppery mass in her mouth. Spitting on the pig would make her feel better, but she wanted to leave. Getting out of the jail meant playing along, waiting for the key to drop or a door to be left open. One of two had already happened.

Just you wait. Just you wait. I've got claws too, you fat pigs.

She stared back, waiting for a response, a kick in the guts, to be dragged out by her hair. She had a feeling a sore beating was in store, if not worse. They might even shoot her; pigs ate anything, and these men shot anything. It was their job. Fuckers.

[Franz Albrecht]

Franz stood tall in the open doorway. He waved a gloved hand over his shoulder, “Give me a moment”. The two policemen immediately stepped back giving the SD officer some space. Franz forced a smile, “Err..do you understand me?” After a brief pause he continued, “ I would like to thank you for returning my wallet”. He noticed her battered and bruised condition causing him to sigh, “There is a photo of my family in there. Do you have any family? Might they be looking for you?”. Even though he knew the answer Franz decided to ask anyway. Up the hallway a inmate was getting loud, suddenly the guards were shouting back. The sound of a door could be heard opening, screams followed along with the sound of a severe beating. Albrecht glanced at the doorway then refocused on the girl inside the cell. He waited quietly for any response from her.

The commotion up the hall had died down, there was now complete silence. Franz figured they had beat the prisoner to or near death. The police station was brutal but didn't come close to matching Gestapo headquarters. He wondered what would become of this child. This wasn't a place for children, it looked as if she had already been through a lot.

[Hilda ("Hildy")]

„Of course I understand you, sir,“ said Hilda, in that garbled, messy accent of French, Russian and German shoved together. „I speak German fluently. Always was a bit of a polyglot.“

He was thanking her for returning his wallet. So, you're the bastard with the smiling bunch. He was trying to get down on her level, thinking her a mere child. She was scrawny, but she was also...fifteen, right? Hilda had begun to lose track. The passage of time was but a quick blur to her those days. To his second question, she replied, „Nope,“ and to his third, „Nuh-uh.“

Hilda seemed completely oblivious, or perhaps just used to, the commotion down the hall. In fact, she was waiting for the wailing to stop, as she wanted the pig in front of her to hear her. I've got to find some more creative terms to call these twits. Then again, I probably know 'em, just can't remember them right now. Damn concussion. Once all was quiet, Hilda said, „I didn't steal your wallet, if that's what you're wondering. I tried to steal some bread that a man already paid for, and I got whacked across the head for it. I'm just waiting to hear when my trial will be, since Herr Hitler is such a fair and just deliverer of justice.“

Somehow, she managed to contain the sarcastic edge to her quip.

[Franz Albrecht]

Franz listened carefully as she replied to his questions. The ragged scrawny girl appeared to be roughly 14 or 15 years old. To Franz’s surprise she came right out and said she didn’t steal his wallet, this took him off guard causing the SD officer to smirk. This girl was intelligent despite her grimy exterior, Albrecht even detected a hint of sarcasm as she spoke. He was slightly impressed but there was one thing that stood in the way of what he would do here. Locking his eyes with hers he asked with a serious facial expression, “Are you Jewish..? And..did one of those guards hit you?” The SD Untersturmfuhrer wasn't fond of grown men who hit kids.

This would determine the action he would take. If she was Jewish and openly admitted it then Franz couldn't help her. He knew very well what happened to those who were sympathetic to the Jewish race. He personally had shot a lot of them, his men shot many, many more. Franz did not have hatred for the so called “Enemies of the state”, he was just following orders. It sounded like an excuse when he thought about the terrible things he had done. There was no way to justify it, just deal with it and move on. The war would not go on forever, the Nazi’s were on the retreat in the East. Franz often wondered how all of this would look on him after the war, when the curtain closed. He knew what they had done and continued to do was wrong but there was no way out now.