Chapter 2

The next morning I found my way to Captain Myer's section in the building and arrived at 0745. First Sergeant Franklin was already sitting at his desk in the office sipping coffee.

He looked at me and asked, "Would the Lieutenant like some coffee?"

"Yes, First Sergeant."

He pointed to a pot on a corner table, "Help yourself."

After pouring myself a cup of coffee I walked back to Franklin and asked, "Can you tell me where to find the form that I have to fill out when I have a foreign contact?"

Without speaking he opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. As he handed it to me he asked, "Does the Lieutenant mind if I ask what her name is?

I blushed. "Elke... she agreed to help me with my German and to teach me to speak and read Russian."

Franklin grunted, "I assume she's pretty."

"Very."

Captain Myer walked in, and I was saved from any further, embarrassing questions.

Myer took me into the main room that contained about 30 desks, of which maybe 5 of them were already occupied by enlisted personnel. He said, "Most of us are at work by 0830.

"Dave, here is the short, big picture. When the war ended, Germany was divided into four sectors—the British, French, American, and Russian areas of influence. At first we were a super police force to keep the peace and eliminate any remnants of the bad influences that started the war. We were accepted by the Germans quicker than we expected, and soon their states organized themselves under our guidance.

"The three western powers quickly became one bloc against the Russian sector. It became the West versus the East. Under our guidance the western sectors became known as the Federal Republic of Germany. The Russians immediately created a twin political organization called the German Democratic Republic. Both the Federal Republic and the GDR claim they want to unite all Germany, but each wants to be the controlling influence.

"Until now, it has been a political battle, but the Berlin Airlift shifted it a little into a military confrontation. Our battalion specializes in analyzing Russian military capability. The other battalion is more into the political aspects of the situation; in addition they analyze the military potential of the eastern countries bordering Germany.

"I'm going to give you the basic manuals of how an armored division is organized, and in particular, how our division is organized. Later I'll give you the equivalent manuals of a typical Russian armored division. Eventually, you'll be one of many here who studies how the specific Russian divisions in the Soviet sector are organized. However, first you have to learn about our own units.

"Once you get the feel of the job, I will give you specific assignments based upon signal intelligence that we intercept along with information that is received in other ways.

"For now, get comfortable with the job, meet your fellow officers and enlisted men, and stay out of trouble."

"Yes, Sir."

He pointed out my desk that was covered with thick manuals and walked away. It appeared I had some reading to do.

That night I met Elke at our agreed upon meeting place. We walked for an hour speaking nothing but German and then stopped at a small restaurant and we ate a sandwich. After dinner she started to teach me how to speak Russian.

Two hours later I walked her back to her apartment and watched her as she walked up the steps.

For the next three weeks we did the same thing. Finally Elke said, "It's not practical that you buy me dinner every night and we walk the streets. You must come to my apartment—I'm going to be embarrassed because the room is so poor—but I'll cook our meal and we can spend more time practicing Russian."

The next day we met at our spot and walked to her apartment. When she opened the door I had to force myself not to wince. The main room had an old couch, a small table with two cheap chairs, and against the wall, a two-burner cook top and small oven. The only window in the room looked at the wall of the next building. She showed me the second room—a painfully small room almost completely taken up with her bed, an inexpensive wardrobe cabinet, and a cheap end table holding a tiny lamp. A curtain separated the bedroom from a tiny bathroom with a shower, basin and toilet. What I did see was that everything was very clean.

We walked back into the main room and I noticed an old phone on a small table by the door. She saw my look and explained, "The telephone comes with the apartment, but I never use it since it costs so much money to make calls."

"Write down the number for me, Elke, so I can call you if plans that we make are disrupted because of my job."

"Yes, Dave."

Once I got over the initial impression of her tiny apartment, I realized that the aroma of something very good permeated the rooms. She had cooked dinner for us—sauerbraten, potatoes, and cabbage. She had prepared a typical German dinner.

The meal was excellent and Elke beamed when I complimented her. German was coming back easily to me, and Elke and I spoke only German unless it was our Russian time.

After dinner we spent the next three hours on my Russian.

We quickly decided it would be easier if I just came to her apartment after work instead of forcing her to meet me on the street. I increased the money I gave Elke so she could buy food for our dinners. It actually was better for me; the restaurants were costing me most of my monthly pay.

Another three weeks went by. We went to inexpensive restaurants two nights a week, but the rest of the time Elke made dinner for us and we ate at her apartment. She was an excellent cook.

She also was starting to relax with me. The first time she giggled and then laughed I was shocked—she was so beautiful when she laughed I couldn't believe it was the same desperate woman I had met on the street.

One night we had finished dinner and she was washing the dishes. I brought over a dish just as she turned and our bodies met. I could feel her breasts and she knew it. She blushed.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Elke, it was my fault... and I enjoyed our encounter," I teased.

She blushed again and nothing more was said.

The next night we had another great dinner and then spent three hours in an intense Russian lesson. Their language is very difficult to speak, read, or write. Elke wanted me to be perfect in all three!

At the end of the lesson I said, "I have to go."

She walked me to the apartment door and looked at me. It wasn't her normal look—it was a look of expectation. And then I realized that every night I went home and dreamed about how beautiful she was. I had never tried to make a move on her since I didn't want to take a chance that it would spoil our relationship. Her look said I was wrong to be so careful.

I put my arms around her waist waiting for any resistance. There was none.

I pulled her to me, and she quickly came into my arms.

She looked up at me and I kissed her. Her lips were soft and moist and my erection was immediate. I knew she felt me. We broke our kiss and she leaned her head against my chest. I could feel her soft hair and smell her fragrance. My hands moved from her waist to her back; I could feel the straps of her bra as I lightly caressed her. We stood that way for several minutes.

Finally I backed away and said, "Thank you, Elke, for a wonderful night."

She smiled shyly at me, as if she were embarrassed by her emotion.

I walked back to the base that night in confusion. I thought, "In college I met girls, bought them three beers and fucked them. If I knew a girl had broken up with her boyfriend, I was there for the rebound, which usually meant sex.

"Yet here I have a woman absolutely defenseless—at my complete mercy—and I do nothing for weeks and then hesitate to even kiss her. What is causing me to act like this?

"Love," I answered myself.

During the next month I saw Elke at least five times a week. I always spent the weekend days with her so that we could spend more time on my language training and, I have to admit, because I was becoming more and more attracted to her.

I was lucky to have met Elke for another reason. The military had a huge reduction immediately after the war and terminated over eighty percent of its officer base. The lifers clung to their jobs if they could, but most of the younger officers were released—both voluntarily and involuntary. Consequently, the other officers who had made the cut were much older than me.

The program that paid my way through college was now suspended and my class was the last one that had to perform their military obligation. Others were not permitted to enter active duty, but rather were ordered to serve in the reserves. The end result was that I was the youngest officer in the company, and had few friends.

My job was better than boring, but not something that made one meet each new day, anxious to get back to work. My section's job was to profile the typical Russian armored division, including number of men, types of fighting equipment and weapons used, and the tactics and strategy when engaged in battle.

Each scrap of information came to the section. It might be from a newspaper article, intercepted signal communications, defectors who had served in their military, and in some cases, spies who worked for us. Each piece of the puzzle was added to prepare a picture of what was assumed to be our next enemy. However, I was under no delusion that my unit was anything but a very tiny cog in the military intelligence community.

The German military in the Russian sector, which was sometimes described as an independent force, mimicked the Russians; so to know one was to know the other.

Captain Myer had learned about my Russian lessons. One day he stopped by my desk and gave me three books written in Russian. One was written just after World War I and the other two more recently. All three of them focused on the role of Russian armor in the military. "Dave, take a swing at these books and see if there is any useful tactical information."