Chapter One Thousand Seven Hundred Sixty-Two
16th October 1966
Mitte, Berlin
“So, what do you think?” Louis asked as he entered the Parlor of the Berlin Penthouse.
He was wearing the dress uniform of a Protector of the Order of Saint John in which he was a Knight Commander. The double-breasted red tunic with a gold belt, white breeches, and black boots with a mirror polish. Over it was worn a black cloak that was tied with a long cord, with a white linen 8-pointed cross that was the badge of the Order on the left breast and black broad brimmed hat with a white plume. The Cross of Honor hung on its black ribbon around his neck. Louis was expected to play the role of the Sovern while his cousin Wilhelm-Karl was the present Grand Master of the Johanniter Order, the German Protestant branch of the Knights Hospitaller. Louis was happy it was someone else's headache.
“Three Musketeers costume?” Nan asked, “Like in the movie?”
Charlotte, who had been helping Nella and Nan as they had been trying to puzzle their way through a book by reading it aloud put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh. Nella found that hilarious while Nan didn’t really understand what was so funny. To her, what her Uncle Louis was wearing really did look like something from another era. There was also something else that Louis and Charlotte had noticed. For Nan, Momma and Papa had painful connotations, so she had started referring to them as her Aunt and Uncle. Charlotte had felt that it was a healthy change and had encouraged her to do that.
“I will have you know that this is the uniform of a Chivalrous Order that is known for its charitable works, funding the construction of hospitals and medical services” Louis said, as he strode into the room with a great deal of flourish. Later that afternoon, Louis was going to join the others in the Order to celebrate the feast day of its founder, Blessed Gerard, Rector of the Hospital of Saint John in Jerusalem in the Twelfth Century. The actual day had been a few days earlier on the 13th of October, but today was the first following Sunday and that made it less of a hassle to get the members of the Order together for the procession. Louis liked this particular Chivalrous Order because while he was the Sovern of the German branch, he was not expected to be the Grand Master. So, it was a club that he could be the member of without having to lead it. The problem that was growing increasingly apparent was that Karl-Wilhelm at the age forty-four was considered a youth by the vast majority of the Order, with the average age far older than Louis was at fifty-eight.
“Are they still on about getting new blood into the Order?” Charlotte asked echoing Louis’ thoughts as she closed the book that she had been reading with the girls, Nancy Drew. It was a reminder of Charlotte’s suggestion in that matter. When Nella and Nan discovered Nancy Drew, they had spotted some parallels with the fictional girl detective and Kristina. Both tended to be at the center of the action, were very brave and drove a convertible. Of all of Louis’ children Kristina was the most obvious choice to be extended an invitation to join the Johanniter Order, she was already a Stabsarzt in Emergency Medicine at the age of twenty-three and her stature as a Physician would grow in the coming years. There was just one substantial problem though, the German branch of the Order had never had a female member.
“They are” Louis replied, “I doubt that they will be too receptive to your idea, even if it comes from me.”
“They have the examples of your Great, Great Grandmother Victoria and your cousin Elizabeth” Charlotte said, “Both of whom were Soverns of the Order and the British branch has Dames who have received Knightly Ranks, so it is only an issue if those decrepit fuddy-duddies make it one.”
With that, Charlotte stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at Louis. The girls giggled at such a childish display by an adult. Still, Charlotte had clearly been prepared to make that argument.
Laupheim, Württemberg
As near as Ritchie had been able to piece together, Manny was like a Pathfinder from the Airborne, except he was squad leader in an Armored Cavalry Unit. It was a bit of a surprise that a nineteen-year-old would play such a role. However, as Ritchie got the full story, he hoped that someone in the Brass back home was paying attention. It had turned out that Manny was an Officer trainee and most of the German Officers came up that way having first had an Enlisted Rank before they earned their Commissions. “It is an Apprenticeship” Manny had said. Ritchie liked the kid even if he towered over him, standing a couple inches north of six feet, and by odd coincidence happened to be the son of General Johannes von Mischner, the same General who had hosted Ritchie’s team after they had bugged out of China.
At the same time, it was noticeable that Manny was spending a lot of time on the phone trying to get news about what was going on with his family. He had said that his Oma was ill and that his Opa had explained with about as much subtlety as a howitzer that she was suffering from a terminal illness. It had taken Ritchie a bit of time to figure out that he was talking about his grandparents. Manny had said that Manfred the Elder was like that, a retired Luftwaffe Field Marshal who was probably the toughest man that Manny had ever met. Huck had joked that he sounded a lot like the stereotypes surrounding the Red Barron only to have Manny, AKA Manfred the Younger, say that was exactly who he was and that Manfred the Elder had not been a Barron for a long time. He was a Prince-Elector, whatever that was, these days.
None of this was helped by the fact that the mission was in the wait for the bastard to stick his head up so that they could blow it off part.
To kill time and to focus on something other than personal problems, they had gone to the shooting range and had been comparing the G44 to the M-10 Stoner by shooting targets 400 meters away, considered the effective range of both rifles. Manfred had revealed himself to be an astonishingly good shot, beating all of them with his G44. Mullens, who was the best shot among the Green Berets, objected to that, saying the scope on Manny’s rifle was unfair. Manny just shrugged, traded rifles with Mullens and shot a shockingly tight group with the aperture sights of the Stoner rifle. Mullens had not tried to best that with Manny’s G44, just handing it back and muttering that the kid was scary.